I was at my studio, I had just spanked Samantha and taken pihotos of her.
Half an hour before we had finished the shoot, Charlotte and Stephanie had come to do some spanking videos for their own sites. I was in the Headmasters Office and they were down my studio corridor in the classroom. I left Samantha rubbing cream on her sore bottom and getting out of school uniform and back into her day clothes.
As I walked by the school room I could hear Charlotte being a teacher and Stephanie counting out some whacks on her bare bottom! God…it felt so real, like I was in a school listening at the Headmistress’s door! I was tempted to masturbate! But of course I didn’t. I waited until they had done, knocked and went in to put my plimsol back in the shoe rack.
Charlotte asked me to take some photos of them, so now you and me can visualise what had happened five minutes before, behind the door, because they were still dressed in their outfits and in the same setting…
Just letting you know that the true story of my friend ‘naughty school girls Karen’ was updated from what it was this morning when I started it. Click here…
NOTE : unusually for me in a story, the photos are not mine (in the first sections anyway, I have copied them from my vintage sections)
IF ANY PHOTOS ARE YOURS, PLEASE LET ME KNOW, I AGREE, YOU SHOULD BE MENTIONED… TRUTH IS, I JUST DON’T KNOW WHO TOOK THEM.
If you have been directed here for ‘The Spanking Adventures of Upskirt Evans’……quickly scroll down to the bottom of this page.
Let’s begin…
For those of you who have followed me a while, you will know that as well as being a spanking addict, I have a great love of walking, spiritual places, art, antiques, and steam trains.
In the steam trains avenue of my mind, they call the early to mid-sixties the ‘Glory Days’, steam was King, and all the little railway lines were still open. England looked well kept and tidy, jobs for all….And best of all, naughty girls got spanked. So, the title to this is as you see, the Glory Days of Spanking.
I have told you already of my informative years growing up in the fifties and early sixties, with families of girls living each side of me, I heard and saw spankings, and about my first proper girlfriend ever, sat in school uniform asking me ‘what would you do if I was naughty?’
My comics were full of naughty girls bottoms being slippered, black and white films on t.v. showed men putting beautiful women over their knee, and Saturday tea time had Billy Bunter being caned at Greyfriars and Jimmy Edwards starring in Whacko!
With a head full of naughty bottoms, I matured into me.
Like the ‘Charge of the Light Brigade’ I rode on into valley of spanking! Bottoms to left of me, bottoms to the right of me, onward I strode to the delicate valley of Rowena’s plump little bottom to deliver my first spanking, a bare bottom one, to a real life school girl in her grammar school uniform, complete with straw hat. I never looked back….or did I?
I look back all the time, and often wonder what the girls thought of it all.
… I remember l was in bed one night, probably aged about fourteen, it was summer. My window was open, the house the other side of my wall belonged to a stout lady, her name was very similar to Mrs.Trumble….(just in case her daughter’s read this!) a girl two to three years older than me slept in the bedroom the other side of my wall. Some nights through the open sash windows we would chat. I had a crush on her. She seemed so mature, with real pert breasts, and a pretty smile.
On the night in question there was an almighty bang as her door flew open, very raised voices. I heard a spanking, a full blown hairbrush one, the smacks and screams so loud. I wanked furiously. I remember thinking ‘shall I climb onto the coal house to peek in?’ I was too close to orgasm, mid spanking I shot a glorious load of young sperm all over the bed sheets and my pyjamas!
A couple of days later, my mother took me to one side. She was a staunch member of the Mothers Union and the Womens Institute. Our house was always full of old plump women in their home made frocks and stout shoes baking and chatting. Including Mrs Trumble.
She told me that the girl in the bedroom next to me was a very naughty girl, and that she had problems with her temper and behaviour. She said that although boys were naughty, it was mischief with catapults directed at greenhouse glass and throwing frogs at girls…my crimes! My sore bottom! But girls can be very naughty, peevish and spiteful if not spanked often. They need to be guided into becoming good young women, ready to be a wife, with a firm hand, or slipper, or even a stout, solid wooden hairbrush.
Women like my mum, and all the others were ruled by pride and presenting a good image to the world. The good behaviour of their daughters was like a badge of honour. They talked…no, they gloated at the women who could not keep them in control. It was SHAME in capital letters if the other women laughed or frowned at a daughters behaviour. Us boys? Oh he is such a cheeky rascal that one! We got smacks and clouts round the ear a plenty. Even spankings.
But if a girls mum, was, like most in the W.I. Or Mothers Union, then then they had to behave. Or else!
The W.I. (Womens Institute) was the equivalent of a man going to the pub to see his mates, soon women would join them for dancing, darts, dominoes and a social life, but at this time, before the Swinging Sixties really got under way, the old fashioned ways clung on, both at school and at home. I remember my Dad and his mates mocking the seriousness of the W.I….”bloody hell Roy, if my missus doesn’t win that bloody cake contest this year, my life will be hell for another one!”
It was a wonderful thing, classes on jam making, home skills etc…for those who wanted it. But I imagine some young mums hated it…hence the swinging sixties and freedom!
But we are staying in the ‘Glory Days’, let’s look at some typical W.I.Mothers…
Like the poster says, it gave the women who wanted it a social life, as well as classes they did things like bulb planting to make their area look pretty and cared for.
And, like I said, instruction on how to keep your naughty daughter in line. Let’s get a picture in our minds of the naughty daughters plight…
Some of my early masturbations were imagining I was a girl getting a bare bottom spanking at a church fete, or some similar event.
The reason being that on a day out with my Mum and Dad when I was about 13, I saw a girl pulled out of the W.I. Tent by the ear, and pulled to the exit with shouts of ‘You just wait until I get you home!’ ….I never knew what she had done, but I remember my mum and dad laughing and everyone thinking it was normal.
I still wonder what it was like for them, by them, I mean ‘a naughty girl in the 1960’s. And, the reason I am writing this is because I have been handed a spanking gem. A woman from the south of England, a similar age to me, who reads my blog avidly. She loves spanking, was a grammar school girl with a Mummy who was in the W.I.
She too masturbates to the thoughts of spankings…. her own.
Prepare to meet Karen. I am going to share her memories with you.
THE MEMORIES OF KAREN…
PHOTOS FROM HERE ON WILL BE BACK TO MY OWN, MAYBE TURNED INTO BLACK AND WHITE.
To begin, up to now Karen is an enigma to you all. I can tell you that she is exactly what I tell you, a woman spanked as a child, and through her teenage years. After that? Who knows, this is not a race, nor an interview. What we are doing is satisfying a need. If I was a vampire, then Karen’s memories of her spankings are her blood. Allow me to sink my teeth into her glorious bottom and drink, then I will share what I find with you.
Before the sound of a stiff palm of her Mummy’s hand smacking the soft, rounded, delicate cheeks of naughty schoolgirl Karen, (what a perfect name from the era) let me tell you what I know.
We will always call Mummy…Mummy. No need for a name.
Mummy very rarely used the word spanking. In a strict voice, either upstairs or pointing upstairs, which was the most common place for discipline, she would use phrases like this…
“You naughty girl Karen, you are going across my knee for that! Get upstairs…NOW!”
Once upstairs it would be, ” Get over my knee.”
“You! Young lady! Are going to get a good hiding!”
“You are going to end up with a sore bottom for this my girl!”
And very good disciplinary language it was. Well done Mummy, you are just what we want.
Up until going to the all girls Grammer School in the area, Mummy smacked Karen’s bare bottom with the flat of her hand. But as Karen moved up to ‘big school’ so did her punishments graduate. To the slipper on the bare!
Ohhh, how lovely! The thought of us talking to a real naughty girl from our favourite years sends a vibration right up our manhoods doesn’t it. I also know that many of my readers (over 1000 a day now) are women. So it is also nice to know that some delicate varnished fingertips have been delving into squishy wet pussies whilst finding out all about you Karen. Actually, on reading the first part of this story, Karen let her knickers slide down and fingered her wet pussy to orgasm. She told me so today.
This gets better by the minute, don’t you agree? I suspect that some hands are wrapped around throbbing cocks right at this point of my writing, and fingers are busily slipping and sliding away in moist damp slippery holes too. How does that make you feel Karen? What? They are sliding down again? Your legs are in the air? And you are rubbing frantically….hmmm, we do have a naughty girl on our hands. Maybe you ought to go over my knee right now young lady!
The slipper.
Karen has been shopping, and purchased the nearest thing to her Mummy’s spanking slipper she could. Here it is…
Imagine the strong right hand, and a big arm of a a typical mummy of the day, gripping the heel firmly and whacking down repeatedly on a wiggling sore, red bottom!
Thwack! Thwack! Thsack!
“Owwww, ooooh oh-ohhhhhowwww!” Would squeal a bare bottomed upturned Karen.
THESE ARE TRUE STORIES, DISCIPLINE REMEMBERED FROM A BYGONE AGE BY THE LADY WHO EXPERIENCED THEM, THESE ARE NOT STORIES…
To continue..
There is an amusing story about the slippers, and one which allows us a glimpse into the psyche of dear Mummy. On a shopping trip with our naughty schoolgirl Karen, she took her into Marks and Spencers, where she bought them. Karen thought nothing of it at the time, thinking they must be a present. But what a wonderful thought….Mummy taking a naughty girl, in school uniform, into town, to buy her spanking slippers. I suspect that the ladies of the W.I. had discussed this, and found the most effective.
Talking of uniforms, the girls Grammer school had a lovely uniform. Karen fell in love with it and was proud to wear it. Mummy was as proud as the cat that got the cream, to see her daughter’s wiggling bottom parade the local streets in it. Red haired Karen must have cut a fine figure in her dark grey blazer, pleated skirt, white blouse with a dark tie with an ivory coloured stripe. The stripe had another beside it, depicting the house she was in, Karen’s was green, to match her naughty eyes. White socks, black shoes and….
Bottle green regulation school knickers!
So imagine our dear wiggling naughty schoolgirl walking through the village she lived in to catch the bus. And of course, picture her on the bus coming home. A striped bottom under her bottle green knickers, a note for Mummy in her bag, and the lovely slipper waiting for her.
Karen was and still is blessed with a high IQ, which allowed her to cope with her Girls Grammer School well, from 11 up to 17, having the same Headmistress all the way through.
As regards to her own psyche, Karen tells me, that Mummy described her as wilful and headstrong.
Karen’s Daddy left their home when Karen was young, so there will be no account of him
A MESSAGE FROM KAREN
Dear Mr Jones
I’ll send you my account of my memory of the 1st detention slip home & the consequences by email over the weekend 😉
One of the things that has been whirling around in my mind (due to all my thinking about my schoolgirl & teenage times 😉) was how matter-of-fact and nonchalantly my mother & her friends/neighbours and my aunt would openly discuss their naughty offspring’s (ie mine) misdemeanours & consequent punishment.
(I have to say though, as I got a little older into my teens, it was this nonchalance, off-handedness and matter-of-fact manner of not only talking about it, but also dealing with the embarrassment of exposure that had probably the most effect on me & my journey into my obsession with being spanked 🤭)
I can recall being the topic of conversations at the kitchen table (and being present or within earshot) where not only my “crime” was discussed, but also the details of my punishment (or pending punishment) were openly debated between my mother & another mother (WI friend) a Female neighbour or maybe my aunt if she were there.
Every now & then I’d hear the conversation punctuated with words or phrases that I knew were sealing my fate … “naughty girl” …. “across my knee” …. “knickers down” …. etc etc etc …… it’s really strange how your ears used to get tuned to such phrases !
Lol … well I’ll tell you some of those times as we go along.
I am going to enjoy this 😋😋
Karen xx
*****
AGE …. TO BE ON THE SAFE SIDE EVERY SPANKING DESCRIBED BY KAREN WILL HAPPEN WHEN SHE WAS SIXTEEN AND A HALF YEARS OLD, AND REMEMBER, BACK IN THE EARLY SIXTIES, SPANKING A NAUGHTY GIRL WAS THE NORM, BOTH AT HOME AND SCHOOL.
Before we go on, like I said, I hope to make the stories come to life with photographs. You already know Claudia my friend. She is to be Mummy…
*****
‘My first detention slip, and meeting the slipper’
SPANKING NUMBER ONE
Hi Asa,
As promised my memory of my first detention slip home and mum’s first application of “the slipper” 😳
As I mentioned earlier; at the junior school I attended, I/we had no idea of what a “detention” was. Not that I was such an exemplary pupil … far from it! … it was just that detention was not a method of discipline used there – in fact discipline was quite a low key there (even though the headmistress did smack a young bottom or two “in loco parentis” in the time I attended there ….. I know because I was one of them 🤭)
So you can imagine, when I went (all neatly dressed in my new school uniform for the first time “for real”; my mother brimming with pride) to the pre-start open night how like a “rabbit in the headlights” I was when I listened to the headmistress giving her address to the assembly of girls & parents that would form that years new intake.
Especially when she got to the subject of how she & the school viewed & administered discipline and how she expected her “new girls” to have accountability, honesty, integrity & discipline.
(Again all I seemed to hear from her speech – as a timid prospective 1st year girl – was the “D” word …. DISCIPLINE, DISCIPLINE, DISCIPLINE) 😳😳😳😳
She outlined how it was her way that the expected her girls to take responsibility and be answerable for their actions and pointed out that she was; (supported by the school governors) in favour of the detention process, the writing of lines & other punishment tasks; and, when she (as headmistress) deemed necessary ….. corporal punishment, to achieve the best for “her girls”.
She added … “So be warned young ladies – you WILL behave as such in my school” 😵
On a more lighter mood, I loved walking around the school and seeing all the wonderful science labs & gymnasium plus swimming pool … but as we did, all I could seem to think about was the headmistress’s accent on DISCIPLINE 😳😳
My mother was brimming with pride as we made our way home on the bus, however I vividly remember her warning to me (not word for word obviously as it was a loooong time ago – but now in my own words)
“Karen, I expect you to be a good girl at school – you heard what Mrs Charlton (the headmistress) said about responsibility? AND … you heard what she said about discipline? Now remember what I’ve told you before young lady … if you misbehave and get a punishment at school … you WILL be punished at home as well … NO exceptions” …. understood? “Oh and another thing young lady … I’ve already signed & returned the form permitting the use of corporal punishment … so beware young lady” !
So the die was set …. no escape 😳😳
My new school regime took a lot of getting used to but gradually, (with the patience of our new teachers) all we new girls settled into the general flow of the ways of the school, and what at first seemed like an impossible mountain of rules, corridors, names and different classrooms from each lesson, gradually became 2nd nature & smooth running.
Until that fateful day, (which of course was just waiting to happen) when, I was given my 1st detention slip 😳😩
So….stupidly I was still talking with my friend and hadn’t noticed when the English mistress had entered the classroom (because it was protocol for all talking to stop on entry of a teacher) and after a telling off we were both told to collect a detention slip for the following day at the end of the lesson.
I was devastated, and after the lesson felt so ashamed as I collected the slip which had to be taken home & returned signed by a parent acknowledging that you would be late away from school on the day the detention had been set for.
All day long I worried about what my mum would say when I handed her the slip – and of course what was going through my mind was my mother’s warning.
I realised the most likely of outcomes would be that I’d be going across my mum’s knee for a smacked bottom ! – I wasn’t sure if it would be immediately I handed her the slip or (most probably) at bedtime. But what I was almost certain of was, that I would be going over mums knee 🤭
When I got home that afternoon after school mum was in the kitchen preparing the evening meal as she usually was. After her usual greeting and asking “how was school today”? … I remember sheepishly saying “I got this today” handing her the slip of paper.
I recall mums expression changing & her saying something like “oh? … what’s this? … have you been a naughty girl?” As she read the slip I explained what had happened and remember thinking how calm she seemed to be about it & maybe that she’d just tell me off & not to do it again – however – she just got a pen from the kitchen drawer & signed the slip of paper and handing it back to me saying (something like)…
“It would seem you HAVE been a naughty girl, haven’t you? … put this back in your bag young lady as you’ll need to hand it in tomorrow miss – you don’t want to be in further trouble do you? ……. “
And then came the off hand & matter of fact statement I had been worrying about ….
“Oh .. and you’ll be getting a smacked bottom as well miss, as I’ve already warned you, so I’ll be putting you over my knee at bedtime young lady .. understand ? – now get upstairs & changed out of your uniform”
Eating my evening meal was like “the condemned man” lol 😂
As I finished eating, my mum asked me if I had any homework that evening (which I didn’t) so she told me that as I’d been a naughty girl, after we had washed & dried the dishes, I was going to bed early.
So immediately we had finished the dishes (in an awkward silence !) mum told me I was to go upstairs and get washed & changed into my pyjamas for bed & that she would be up shortly after she put the things away.
I did as told and was sitting up in bed as mum came into my bedroom. (What I hadn’t realised – because I had no need to – was that she was holding the slipper behind her back out of sight)
I recall her saying (something like) …. “what are you doing in bed miss? … I told you that you’re going over my knee young lady …. out you get!”
I got out of bed as mum sat down on my bed; and, unbeknown to me slid the slipper under my pillow out of sight.
I stood (as was expected on these occasions) in front of her for the inevitable pulling down of my pyjama bottoms & the scolding (fully exposed) that preceded the command “over you go”.
But on this occasion it was slightly different.
Mum undid and pulled down my pyjama bottoms and sat there looking at me (exposed) with my pj’s puddled at my feet and after a while said (something like) …
“You’re a grammar school girl now & I expect you to behave like one, however if I have to smack your bottom like a little girl, then believe me young lady I will continue to do so … don’t think I won’t …… but you KNOW what this smacked bottom is for don’t you? … if you misbehave at school then you KNOW you get a smacked bottom at home … grammar school or not!”
“Right … it’s no good you snivelling now miss … over you go young lady and you can have something to cry for”
Sniffling, I went over her lap as told and, as my mum was a practiced spanker, was soon wriggling and crying (as promised) across her lap as she set my bare bottom on fire with her hand.
When she stopped (at least I thought she had) I lay across her lap bawling she said (again something like)… “Right miss, as you are now a senior school girl, from now on you’ll be getting your bottom smacked like a senior school girl … as this is your first time, all you are getting is one for each year … but in future that will not be the case”
With that mum took the slipper from under the pillow & smacked my already spanked bottom a further 16 times until I was kicking and virtually screaming !
I had never felt anything like it
I don’t remember much of how it ended and me getting up off her lap – but I do recall going to bed crying with my bottom on fire & laying on my tummy as my mother warned me … “and unless you want to go back over my knee again, I don’t want to hear another peep out of you tonight young lady” !
With that she left my bedroom closing the door behind her.
God … I’ve just read this through again and really apologise if it is too long ? 😳
I do hope you liked my memory & that it might be of some use for your blog/story.
Please forgive my interpretation of conversations …. this was so long ago I have had to put words together that I THINK were said (or words I remember my mother using at times) … I hope that’s ok ?
Asa’s note..
That was a wonderfully written account of a young woman going over her Mummy’s kee for the slipper. On account of myself, and I am sure, my readers, thank you. Excellent work!
I received a note from Karen today…
Just something I wanted to highlight is my mum’s nonchalant attitude about the fact I was to get a smacked bottom! Almost as if … it was ME she was doing it for … as if she was doing it as a favour ! 😳😳😳
Almost … “shall we go and smack your bottom?” … LOL 😂
Asa’s note…. A lovely little add on, thank you xxhugxx
*********
I am going to write story versions of each spanking.
Click here to read of Karen’s visits to the Headmistress’s Study, and how the School Secretery had the job of lifting a naughty schoolgirls skirt, prior to a spanking!
Click here to read the full ‘novel’ version, a black and white illustrated fantasy version…like some of my other epic spanking sagas, (The Inveigle, and Saint Helena High School for Wayward Girls for example) you will have to be patient and watch it grow.
It’s Saturday morning, Samantha, a shapely young teenager meets her friends in town for coffee and a smooch around some shops looking for trinkets. Whilst at the same time eyeing the boys, practising their walk, their smile, their flicker of eyes….etc etc whilst checking her wiggle in every shop window.
She walks, from the counter and stands drinking her coffee by the table with three friends, Kate, Charlotte and Stephanie. “What’s up? Are we not good enough today? Sit down! You are making the place look untidy!” Chuckles Stephanie.
Samantha blushes. “I can’t, I’ve got a sore bottom.”
It is 1968 and in those years, it was common that a naughty girl got a spanking. So the question was not why? But…”Oh dear, what did you do to get spanked?”
“I got two yesterday! One from Mr.Jones, in class before everyone. And he sent me home wth a letter, and Mummy gave me a right good walloping with her hairbrush.”
“Ooooh you must show us your bottom later, is it bruised?” Asks the ever curious and eager bottom viewer, Charlotte.
“Put it this way, I slept on my tummy and had breakfast stood by the mantelpiece, much to my snotty sister’s amusement!” Replies Sam.
“Tell us everything, in detail!” Begged Kate.
So Samantha told her tale…
“I suppose I had pulled my pleated skirt up a bit high, but it was double history and I sit in front of Bruce….phwarrrrr!”
The girls giggle.
“He didn’t think it was too short!”
“I bet he soon had his hand on his cock when he saw you!” Giggled Kate.
“I’d like it in mine! Ooooh I’d give him a right good wank.” Added Charlotte.
Stephanie made them laugh out loud when she said…”if he poked it through the ink well I’d fucking jump on it!”
People looked in their direction, so they calmed down, a little. “Carry on, tell us about your spanking.” Demanded Kate, eager to know all the details.
“Well…” Said Samantha, taking a deep breath. “Mr Jones to me to stand in the gangway between the desks. It appears I slouched so it was, stand up straight, the floor won’t speak for you, hands by your side, stop fidgeting. He reprimanded me, about my skirt being far too short, and that I should know the regulation length and stuff.”
“A funny thing is, I noticed the sun light coming through the Venetian blinds, and the radiators ticking away. It felt just like me and him, the class sort of disappeared. He told me to bend over and touch my toes. Thank God I do yoga I thought!”
The other girls giggled at her descriptive ways and the details. They loved her accounts of her spankings.
The audience of three had slightly different but essential the same image of Samantha’s bottom up high in her tightly stretched white school knickers.
“Then he just yanked my knickers right down! I …..well…I was moist, you know how the build up to a spanking gets you…”
They all nodded together, transfixed and dreamy.
“…and the cool air from somewhere blew up my tuppy, it made me feel so exposed!”
In a whisper, the others leaning in close, she continued. “I couldn’t help but think, as I waited for it to start. What was he feeling? I mean, I know I have a nice enough bottom, he’s a man, getting on a bit, but a man and they do say that an older man feels the same inside!”
Kate laughed, ” Oh yes….inside what?”
“You know what I mean. Anyway, I looked to my left, and a bit behind me, the bulge in his trousers said it all as he lifted his plimsol….”
Like you have now I suspect!
Thanks for reading, come back again soon. I have so much to share with you….bye for now.
Your girlfriend at school loves spanking, you love spanking, she loves to be spanked before you. She whispered last night as you fingered her pussy at the bus stop..”I’ll get spanked for you tomorrow” and hopped on the bus with a friendly grin.
And so ensues the next day, a school day unfolds…
The register has been taken, assembly in the school hall is over, you all come back to Mr.Jones classroom to start the day.
“Who wrote this ridiculous nonsense about Miss Kenworthy on the black board?” Asks the strict teacher.
Cherry stands up, “Sorry Sir, I was just larking about that’s all. It’s a joke Sir.”
“Stand up, arms by your side, chin up. A joke to you maybe, but this sort of thing undermines authority. Teachers must be treated with the upmost respect at all times. Is this what you call respect?” He asks.
“No Sir.”
“And do you show respect to rules Cherry?”
“I try to Sir, yes.”
“Move to your side in the gangway, let everyone see your pink shoes and ankle length frilly socks. The rules say that black shoes and white knee length socks should be part of the uniform..have you exemption?”
“No Sir.” she says quietly as she steps into the gangway between the desks.
All heads turn, and some stand to look. “QUIET! Sit down, and face the front.”
The boys sit on the right hand side of the room, the girls on the left. You sit, facing the front, not daring to turn to look at your sweetheart.
“Out to the front Cherry.” Instructs Mr Jones as he picks up a plimsol and places a stool for her to bend over.
Cherry walks out to the front, your manhood is fit to burst through your grey trousers.
“Bend over!”
As she does her skirt rises. You know how excited she will be, you also know that with your shared secret, she is sacrificing her bottom willingly, and spankingly, for you.
Her gym slip is lifted. “Knickers down Cherry.”
Bare, before the class. You know she will be wet and her pussy will be twitching. This is exactly what she wants, and needs. Knowing that you are sat at the front of your row of desks, watching, is such a turn on for her.
“Legs apart, push your bottom out to meet the plimsol, grip the stool and do not change position during your punishment. If you do, we will start all over again young lady. Understood?”
“Yes Sir.” She replies as she shuffles into position.
You stare at her nervously shaking bottom and pussy.
The spanking is by no means brutal. Six good whacks of the thick rubber sole, delivered quickly, three to each cheek. She hops and squeals but does well, and keeps a grip on the stool rail.
“Now get to the naughty corner, stand there for fifteen minutes in silence.” Instructs Sir.
She trots off, knickers still lowered and bottom on show, to stand in ‘corner time’.
As you stare at her bottom, it seems to fill your mind, all the rest of the room seems to fade, until Mr Jones signifies that fifteen minutes is up. “Back to your seat Cherry, and tomorrow come in your correct shoes. Keep your knickers down until the end of lesson.”
She looks to you cheekily, and returns to her seat.
I just want to add…
Out of all the bottoms I have spanked, hers is the softest. Almost unnaturally so. I think if you put a feather on it it would indent the cheek!
There was a subtle change in the relationship between Charlotte and Tamara after the caning. Their conversations became more in depth and their trips to the darker side became fascinating for them both. Charlotte, having tasted the cane across her bare supple cheeks, wanted more.
It was a Friday afternoon, after school had finished for the week, that Miss Kenworthy met Charlotte in her ‘Punishment Room’. After a long talk about dominance and submission, she then took her to my office.
Charlotte looked around wide-eyed at the traditional Headmaster’s desk. It was a heavy oak Captain’s Desk with a blue-colour inlaid leather top, upon which lay a variety of intimidating implements…canes, straps and wooden rulers. Hanging from the wall panelling was a traditional crook-handles school cane. Charlotte felt excited by the sight, wondering how many naughty young ladies had been bent across this desk to have their bottoms bared and soundly thrashed.
“Right then, young lady,” said Miss Kenworthy, “Let’s get your bottom ready.” She proceeded to lift Charlotte’s tiny pleated skirt and roll her knickers down to just below her bottom cheeks, which had the effect of pushing her flesh into an even rounder shape.
Miss Kenworthy then picked up a very whippy and threatening looking cane from the desk and flexed it between her hands, saying, “I am going to give you a taste of a senior cane Charlotte. They are often called ‘dragon canes because of the firey stripes that they create! I am going to give you six very hard strokes. They’ll hurt like blazes. Each stinging stroke will make your bottom burn and will create a beautiful red stripe across your lovely young bottom. I hope that you’ll enjoy this as much as I will. You have a bottom that just begs for a sound caning, my girl.”
“This is going to hurt a lot,” thought Charlotte, feeling a contradictory mixture of fear and rising excitement.
Miss Kenworthy tapped the desk. “Assume the position over this desk.”
Charlotte complied, bending forward over the desk with her legs slightly parted, stretched elegantly out behind her. Miss Kenworthy rolled up Charlotte’ skirt and placed her hand on the girl’s back, tapping the cane across her now naked buttocks to check her aim.
“Are you ready Charlotte?” asked Miss Kenworthy.
After a short pause, Charlotte replied “Yes Miss, I’m ready,” and then added, eager to please her Mistress, “Please cane me very hard. Please Mistress, make me feel every stroke and cry out.”
With a broad smile on her face, Miss Kenworthy started to cane Charlotte, and didn’t hold back. She raised the cane high and brought it swooshing down, landing across Charlotte’s bottom with a loud and very satisfying THWACK!
Charlotte let out an agonised squeal of pain, but held her position. Her buttocks twitched involuntarily as they tried to absorb the burning sting.
And so Charlotte’s caning slowly continued, the cane slashing down across her exposed bottom to leave another and another red line to mark its arrival…
Swish! Thwack!
Swish! Thwack!
Swish! Thwack!
Each time she gasped and cried out, her bottom writhing and then settling to await the next stroke. Miss Kenworthy noted with pleasure that Charlotte seemed to raise her bottom ever so slightly towards her after she had settled, almost as an invitation to her to deliver the next cane stroke. ‘Here is a true submissive,’ she thought.
The final stroke was delivered, the Swish! Thwack! amplified by the room’s acoustics.
After the giggles and laughter looking at each other in their array of hats, the girls decided to see what was upstairs.
It took them ages to reach the top….why? Mirrors! That’s why. Asking three beautiful shapely girls to walk by so many mirrors was futile, as you can see…
What can a man do? …this :-
“I’ll make you a bargain girls, you look in the mirrors as long as you want, but before we move on I give you all a little spanking.”
