Jean Marie is my American friend, joined together by the love of spanking and the written word. How lovely that all the water and land between us, can evaporate, courtesy of the Internet.
But if she does not choose to, it matters not. That is how it is for the chosen ones, the people who make it to ‘My Contributors’ page. Freedom! And no pressure….let them fly!
Let’s see how she does, watch this space.
To see other collaborators, just look up to the menu above, and click on the button.
Mr. Jones and I have been corresponding. He has been entirely circumspect and proper, a complete gentleman. I’ve fluctuated, however, trying to be lady-like, but sometimes, after a long day of teaching, then grading student papers, when it’s finally “me” time in the wee hours, and I’ve had a glass of wine to take the edge off, I may have said some provocative things. In my defense, he led me on with his mind-blowing (for me) and simply-stated (for him) suggestions… For example, he invited me to visit across the pond in England. He matter-of-factly said that he could do a photo shoot with his models and me (after I’d mentioned that I used to be a professional model long ago). He stated the fact that if we were photographed in the nude, he wouldn’t have to show my face in the shots, if I preferred anonymity. He also stated that my spanking of a model or two could be accomplished by the mere request to do the deed. Normally, I have a strict internal gyroscope that keeps my life spinning smoothly, in balance, and on-track. But his suggestions sent my mind reeling off its axis. I became inebriated by the intoxicating ideas he was casually offering. I started to fantasize about taking the trip to central England, doing some of the things he suggested, then elaborating on this riff. I flew from America not to London. The capital and its tourist attractions would have to wait until the end of my visit. I had more important priorities. I flew first to Liverpool, to see all the haunts of the Beatles. Even though I’m in my early thirties and missed living through their heyday, I LOVE the fab four! Then, to fit into the Victorian mindset of my next destination, I would dress in period costume and take the train. I’d wear a dress that flowed to my ankles, with old fashioned bloomers underneath, the kind of knickers that went from my waist to my knees with lace trimming the white cotton, thin fabric, and a seam that opened in the back, parallel to my ass crack to my crotch, so that I could more easily sit on the loo. Or so that an authority-figure could have access to my naughty girl bits, to finger my pussy or bare me for a session of corporal punishment. I’d wear a whale-bone corset, not laced too tight, but that nipped my waist, making my full, womanly hips and bum blossom out underneath, and make my cupcake titties overflow the garment, so that I felt well-endowed for the first time in my life. To top it off, I’d wear a magnificent chapeau, a wide-brimmed hat. I felt like the Kate Winslet character, when she got out of her limousine to board the Titanic, if you saw that movie. My train route would take me east to Manchester, then south and east to a place called Derbyshire, where Mr. Jones’ emporium was located. He calls it an emporium. The dictionary defines this old world term as a place where a wide variety of merchandise is available. It is truth in advertising. The emporium has a large bevy of female beauties, each seemingly sexier than the last, each unique in her own way. I expected to be met at the train station by Mr. Jones. (I refuse to call him by his given name of Asa. I feel toward him as I would a Top, a man in control of me and my every situation, a man fixated on corporal matters, especially the disciplining of all his models, myself humbly among their number for this enchanted weekend.) But a distinguished man of seventy years is nowhere in evidence. I recognize the gorgeous model, Charlotte, who waves at me as if we were long-lost friends. She too is wearing a wide-brimmed hat and period dress. I feel immediately at home in her company, particularly because of her warm smile, easy manner, and sharp sense of humor. She has been enlisted to transport me to Mr. Jones’ studio. We hop into a vintage MG roadster and are off. We take our hats off just before they blow away in the open convertible. I find myself staring at the natural beauty of the blond driving the sportscar too fast. I can’t help myself, my thoughts pour out unfiltered. “I hope you know that you are absolutely beautiful, not austere and perfect, but accessibly gorgeous, a lived-in, comfortable beauty, facially and in every way,” I gush, the words tumbling out of my soul. Charlotte smiles casually at me, “Well, thanks…” “I mean it! I had a boyfriend, we broke up about a year ago, anyway, he was infatuated with you. Keith was the one who showed me your photos on Mr. Jones blog.” “Let me guess, he wasn’t attracted to my ‘lived-in beauty’ facially, he wanted ‘access’ to my bared bum,” and she laughed in a way that reminded me of music. I guffaw at how she saw right to the heart of the matter, and to Keith’s superficiality, and the ice is broken between us. “I could say the same to you, Jeanie,” she smiles. “Asa said you did some professional modeling.” “Long ago, yes, but strictly print-work and runway stuff. I’m envious of your honesty to do nude work, especially spanking scenarios…” I realize that I’m as attracted to Charlotte as Keith was, I try to justify it in my mind because we’re sharing like tastes, that it isn’t just physical. But I’m aroused, my bloomers are wet. “To thine own self be true,” Charlotte smiles in reply. “All the models that work for Asa have a taste for corporal discipline, to one degree or another, some of us more so than others.” “It must be thrilling to do shoot after shoot with your backside bared, positioned provocatively, buttocks redden by a paddle or cane or…” I squirm on the leather car seat, my excitement uncontainable. “I’ll tell you a secret,” she whispers conspiratorially. “Sometimes, especially if I have another, straight photo shoot the next day, we’ll use rouge on our bottoms to simulate the cane stripes.” “But that’s dishonest!” I respond, surprised to hear this background dirt. “You’re right. Maybe you should spank me for it! But we have to, you see, we cannot keep waiting for bottoms to cool, and then spank again, a story would take all day! We do lots of them real, it depends on the shoot.” Charlotte breathed, her eyes on mine. “Asa’s setting up the studio and the camera angles. We can do one in a schoolroom, or a bedroom, or a dungeon, or out in nature, or all of the above. But, whatever you decide, I hope we get the chance to shoot together. I think it’d be hot,” and we have arrived, so she puts the car in park, and leans over to softly kiss me on my lips. We put our hats back on, I grab my suitcase, and we get out of the small car on wobbly legs with wet crotches. Charlotte introduces me to the assembled models. In my mind, I’m thinking about all my background knowledge to put together with each of the beautiful women before me in-the-flesh. All of them got the memo, and are dressed in Victorian period garb. They look like ice cream cones, mouthwateringly sweet and so lick-able. Big hats and boobies pushed up above the cleavage of each tight-fitting, pastel-colored gown. “This is Samantha,” Charlotte says, and I recognize the other blond used in Mr. Jones’ stable of regular models often, but this one is cool, somewhat icy in her patrician stare, with just as hot a slender body as Charlotte’s undulating beneath her gown. Whether in actuality or just in the photographed scenarios, Sam is often a switch, both taking a caning and administering one. Therefore, I’m a little afraid of her. “This is Kate,” Charlotte says, and a stunning, natural redhead smiles demurely at me. Her long hair is piled haphazardly on her head, giving her an air of casual ease that I warm to immediately. She has the most zaftig of figures of any of the models, with full, large breasts matched by a round, bouncy bottom. She is in the habit of posing across the spanking bench most openly, meaning high up, unafraid of exposing her nether regions. I have seen photos of lovely Kate that reveal her tight, brown arsehole, photos that impressed me so much, they took my breath away. I feel that I know her intimately in my lascivious mind, want to know her in fact in the Biblical sense of the word. “And this is Cherry,” Charlotte says. Cherry seems younger than any of the models. She has an attitude that seems to say that she knows she’s fresh and firm and completely unspoiled. She has a pretty face with a cleft chin and startlingly hypnotic eyes, and long, straight auburn brown hair. She has a similarly cherubic set of buttocks, high and tight, but round and well-upholstered. My teeth ache when I look upon her beguiling beauty; I want to spank her for everything she embodies. “I’m pleased to meet each and every one of you,” I say in complete honesty. “You are each overwhelmingly lovely, sexy, enchanting!” Cutting right to the chase with the impetuosity of youth, Cherry asks, “Have you thought about which models you want to participate and what scenarios you’d like to depict in this shoot?” “How rude!” Samantha admonishes the pretty girl. “Let’s sit inside, have tea, let Jeanie catch her breath, and then talk specifics,” and she escorts us into the large, homey cottage. We sit on overstuffed, comfy furniture with pretty, floral prints that don’t match, but rather complement one another. The chairs and sofas are arranged in a circle, so we can look one another in the eye to talk freely. Tea is served on impeccable porcelain. As I lift my teacup, I’m reminded of Charlotte’s derriere, so fair and well-made. The only difference is that the tea service seems delicate, and easily shattered whereas sweet Charlotte’s bum seems substantial and unbreakable. I’d like to spend a whole night long trying to wear her out. My mind takes flight with this fantasy, when I refocus on reality, Charlotte is smiling demurely at me, and I blush at the juxtaposition of the two. “Would you like a biscuit?” Kate offers. I don’t see any biscuits on the tray, but a selection of other delicacies. The scone reminds me of Samantha, with a hardness about her, the shortbread as substantial and satisfying as Kate, the jelly-filled cookie as saccharine as Cherry, and the fruitcake as varied and nutritious as Charlotte. I took the latter. We make small talk, mostly centering around me, my career as a teacher, my love-life, my interest in spanking. I don’t like talking about myself, so was uncomfortable. But my clothing made me more so. I’d already taken off my hat when we came indoors. But, having worn the corset for hours, it was proving too much. “I’m sorry, this is unbearable!” I blurted out, and all around me, pretty faces looked horror-struck that I was displeased. “It’s just this corset, is anyone else wearing one? Mine isn’t even laced-up tight, but I can’t stand it any longer.” If I’d been wearing a blouse, I would have had access, but instead, I stood and pulled my gown over my head and off, then unclipped the front of the corset and removed it, too. This meant I was reduced to wearing only those bloomers. Finally I could breath, but I blushed because I was now exposed, nearly nude. Seeing this, understanding Kate stood up and said, “Ladies, our guest shouldn’t be made to feel conspicuous,” and she joined me in pulling her gown off and removing her corset. Her breasts were heavy and drooped a bit, they were the breasts of a motherly-type, an earth-mother, a flower-child decades too late. I wanted to nuzzle my face into them, kiss their bounty, suckle their warmth. Instead, I simply sit on my chair and feel the moisture seep into my cotton knickers. Cherry decides to join us in solidarity, and in a trice is just as nearly-nude. Her tits, by contrast, are firm and pert and barely bouncing, topped with pink, perfect nipples. Like blond twins, Charlotte and Samantha then stood and disrobed. The only difference between them was their facial features and the set of their boobies, with Sam’s widely perched on her chest. I smile in incredulity at the unlikely portrait of all these beauties sitting in just their old fashioned undies. I put my hat back on my head, which seemed all the sexier, and everyone followed suit. And we all started to giggle, all tension now gone, boobs bobbling and bouncing with our laughter. Now it seemed appropriate, so I said, “To answer your question, Cherry, I think I’d like to utilize all your talents. I’d like to shoot a scene in the schoolroom where Sam is spanking Kate, and I’m tasked with punishing Charlotte. Then, I’d like for both Charlotte and I to punish Cherry with a dual caning in-class over a desk. After that, I think I’d like to film Charlotte and me outside in the sunshine playing together.” Looks are exchanged all around, everyone seems excited and happy with this plan, all except Cherry. “Why must I get caned, by two people at once?!” she asks. “Because your arse is so ripe,” I answer, “and because your attitude on display right now cries out for it.” All the other girls burst out in spontaneous applause, and Cherry sits in rebuffed silence. I add, “And no rogue is to be used at all. Every red bottom will have to be earned.” Knowing looks are exchanged, and Cherry is sitting even more uncomfortably. She won’t be sitting at all soon. We adjourn to the schoolroom set, where I meet Mr. Jones for the first time. He is distinguished as anticipated, white-haired, craggily handsome, powerfully built. I’m secretly glad that he won’t be spanking me because I’m in the mood for something playful, not harsh. We exchange our wide-brimmed hats for straw boaters suitable for schoolgirls, and we’re ready to shoot. Because it’s a still shoot and not video, I can sit out of the shot and watch as Samantha spanks Kate. True to form, Kate leans over a desk deeply; we can all see all of Kate’s considerable charms. Samantha spanks her thoroughly. Kate squirms and squeals as her buttocks are belabored, and suddenly I’m sitting in a puddle of my arousal. I lean over to Charlotte and whisper, “How do you stand it? I’m about to jump out of my skin I’m so turned-on!” Charlotte takes me by the hand and leads me away from the set, back into the cottage. “In all the modeling shoots you did, you never did porn, did you, Jeanie?” I shake my head. “On a porn set,” she continues, “there’s a ‘fluff girl’, whose job it is to keep the male actors aroused, and keep the females able to contain their excitement…” Charlotte pushes me back onto the sofa and applies her pretty mouth to my aroused pussy. She’s my fluff girl, and a skilled one. I climax hard in a series of wracking orgasms. Just as suddenly as she started, Charlotte wipes her glazed mouth with the back of her hand, and takes me by the hand back to the set, her job done. Sitting back down on the director’s folding chair I’d just occupied, I beat myself up mentally for not seizing the opportunity to kiss my juices off her face, or at least to say ‘thank you’. “Great!” Mr. Jones exclaims. “Thank you, ladies! Are you ready Jeanie and Charlotte?” We both nod and get up, take our positions on the realistic schoolroom set. I decide not to pull Charlotte’s white bloomers down. I want to break into this by small steps. I just open the back of the garment as Charlotte bends over a desk. Her perfect, pale posterior peaks out at me. I start to spank her. I’m so glad that she ate me out and let the pressure off or I would’ve exploded. It was SO sexy spanking this beautiful woman, feeling her buttocks warm beneath my punishing palm, seeing her cheeks turn to pink, to rosy red, to tomato, then to magenta. I didn’t let her off easily, I spanked Charlotte for all she was worth. “Great job, Jeanie! You, too, Char!” Mr. Jones yells enthusiastically. Charlotte pops up off the desk and into my arms, we hug and kiss, and as our hungry mouths part, she whispers, “Return the favor? I need a fluff girl!” I fairly run with Charlotte back to our perch on the sofa in the cottage. I apply my tongue to her humid and headily fragrant pussy, and Charlotte clamps her thighs around my head and doesn’t let me go. It is some of the most meaningful and satisfying sex I’ve ever shared, with man or woman, stranger or lover of long-standing. Charlotte gets off her back smiling broadly. “Let’s go cane the snot out of that deserving Cherry!” she exclaims. By the condition of her rock hard raisins for nipples, Cherry is excited about what’s to come, but she’s also apprehensive. The pretty girl is pacing like a nervous leopard. Charlotte takes command. “Kneel on the desk, stick your ass up high in the air,” she instructs, handing me a thin rattan cane as she grips her own. “Can I keep these on?” Cherry pleads as she holds the waistband of her bloomers. “No,” Charlotte says definitively, and yanks them down. Her ample bottom jiggles as it’s bared. I just smile, I couldn’t have given directions any better. Clearly Charlotte has an ax to grind against the sharpening stone of Cherry’s callipygous bottom. “Whenever you’re ready, ladies,” Mr. Jones calls out. Regardless of whether Cherry was ready, Charlotte and I alternate giving the round target stripes with our canes. The bum bounces provocatively as each lick lands, her toned musculature flexes, the flesh relaxes as the girl absorbs the sting, and the cycle is repeated. The lovely song of “swish, thwack, yeow” is sung for twenty refrains. Then silence except for sniffling and soft sobs as the lovely lass dismounts and rubs her flaming backside. I envelop the girl in my arms and kiss her tear-steaked face. “You took that very well! It made for a sizzling hot shoot!” I praise. “You needed that, and deserved everything you got,” Charlotte added. I shot Charlotte a reproachful look, then blocked with my hand the spank that Charlotte tried to land on Cherry’s welted cheeks. “Well, it’s true!” she said in her defense. “The other girls all hate me!” she sobbed in my arms. “Part of it is just because you’re young and vivacious,” I consoled. “Part of it is because you can be a brat, so work on that…” and I gave her bottom a sharp spank for emphasis. I disengaged from Cherry’s embrace and filled my arms with Charlotte. We strolled out to the meadow, with Mr. Jones clicking off photos of our bloomers-half-covered-backsides as we went. We laid down among the wild flowers. He kissed for a long moment, then I smooched my way down her lithe form, from her collarbone to her nipples to her innie belly button, and into her muff via the slit in her drawers. Then I turned her over and pulled her knickers down and off. I was confronted with a delicate tattoo of a bow just above her ass crack. It looked to me as though her perfect body had been giftwrapped just for me and tied up with a ribbon. I kissed the blue tattoo then trailed my tongue down into her crevice. I parted her buttocks with both hands and pushed my tongue into the orifice I found there. “Oh God, oh God, oh God!” Charlotte sighed as an orgasm approached. I removed my tongue from her tooter long enough to joke, “No, I’m just a girl, but I know it feels heavenly, so I understand your confusion,” then licked her there all the harder. A climax rocked her world. Charlotte flexed her cheeks and nearly broke my nose. When she was through, she pushed me down into the garden and reciprocated the tongue bath. All the while, Mr. Jones shutter clicked in rapid-fire succession. All too soon, my time was up, our photo session was over. I got dressed while every other female just stood there naked and watched. I kissed each of them goodbye, finishing the circle with Charlotte. “I’ll remember you forever,” I confided with all sincerity. “And if you don’t, you’ll have some sexy photos to remind you,” she said to brighten the mood. Mr. Jones drove me to the train station. I thanked him profusely, then boarded the train to London. He said through the open window, “You can trust me, no one will see your photos except you and me.” “No, publish them on your blog. Just don’t publish my name for some anonymity. I want the world to see the beauty of your work and of all your models.” A radiant smile broke out across his handsome face. “And you! Did anyone ever tell you that you have a spectacular ass?” Passersby looked over at us. “Yes, about ten years ago. It’s nice to hear that again!” The train started to move. Mr. Jones walked along side. “Retire from teaching and come work with us,” he offered. “It’ll keep Charlotte young, and keep Cherry in her place…” I just laughed, closed the window as the train picked up speed, and was alone with my thoughts.
As you can see, I have been busy, but have managed to move the naughty girl, who had the bad appraisal, from the stairs to Mr.Fitzpatrick’s Secretary’s room, where she has to stay a while…
I suggest you read that first, and then come back…
…continued
Tuesday dawned brightly, a healthy breakfast and a cheerful drive to work was a lovely start to the day. However…Stephanie happened!
It is after school, the three friends have yet again ended up in the detention room, and this time their essay concerns ‘the slave trade, its abolishment, and how it’s memory affects the lives we lead today.’
Half an hour has passed, Samantha has done a whole page, Charlotte has done a whole paragraph, and Stephanie has drawn a huge penis with sperm shooting out, with a hand flying up and down it. An arrow points to the hand…..and written by it is ‘what that old fart is thinking of whilst we do this!’
Sha has just held it up behind her back, Samantha and Charlotte laughed loudly, Mrs Pollard has confiscated it.
“How dare you Stephanie? How very dare you!?!? Get out here, now!”
“Get yourself over the stool young lady!” Shouts Mrs.Pollard.
Stephanie smiles and winks at her friends, and then complies.
Six hard fast blows from the heavy rubber soled plimsol soon land on the seat of her skirt, which is even sooner raised by Mrs.Pollard.
And knickers lowered in temper, with little finesse!
To reveal her beautiful curvy bottom, wriggling and already a bright red!
Then she got what can only be described in the typically English old fashioned way…’A jolly good bare bottom spanking!!’
“Now let that be a lesson to you Stephanie, and and example to you two! Get back to your seat, you naughty girl…and WORK!”
Winter evenings are looming, my time in my study increases. What could be nicer than the rain on the window, me toasty warm, in gentle yellow lighting, at one of my desks. Music playing, and a cup of tea at my side steaming away. With a chocolate digestive! Of course….lol
Working on my Spanking Train Set! With my miniature Charlotte, Samantha, Stephanie, Kate, Amber, Deborah, and Liz….with lots of naughty miniature friends.
This winter I am working in my little school and a small pub. The barmaid will be naughty, so too the schoolgirls out for lunch!
Fancy a peek into the school? It is by no means done, but base coats are applied, walls up, little figure cut up and glued back together with red bottoms in spanking positions! Four girls are getting caned on the bare!
It will look better with its own lights inside, glued in position near the church and pub, by a little river.
Hmmmm….time for another cup of tea, thirsty work this spanking model working!
Asa
P.S……I already know I am obsessed with spanking, and probably a little perverted in some people’s eyes. So don’t bother leaving a comment to say so!
This is just one section of my ever growing site, and most sections have sub sections.
So here we go…
Struggling only leads to further embarrassment!You will stay where you are young lady until I am satisfied!It makes me annoyed, and leads to harder smacks! SO IT IS ANOTHER TWENTY FIRST CLASS SMACKS ON YOUR BARE BOTTOM SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I don’t have a tribute page, but if you want to support me, why not buy a product from my shop? At least you have something to show for it!
Click on ‘my web site’ above, then click on ‘art’ in the menu.
Loads of products, such as…
Note BooksBags
Mugs
Jigsaws
And loads more of ideas! Click on my collections to see the pictures etc or JUST CLICK ON ”SHOP’ when you get there, for a full list of product ideas.. Put my name Asa’s Jones in search.
I was extremely pleased with Jean Marie’s writing for my competition. We have been writing since, and she told me that she hopes to start her own blog and would love to use my photos.
I have said yes, so long as she credits me for them, which she has agreed to, you will see why I said yes so freely, when you read more of her work, see here for No-2
Asa’s Writing Part Two
By Jean Marie
I did exactly what I said, I went straight back to my dorm room, stripped off my clothes, and admired my still-slightly-red bottom in the mirror as I masturbated. The spanking and especially the strapping were extremely sexy. That middle-aged Headmaster, someone I’d always thought of as dodgy, now seemed simply mature and so masterful. And his cock felt so sinfully delicious between my butt cheeks, at least for the half-minute until it popped-off. So much cum, all over my bum! I bet the Headmaster hadn’t climaxed since he spanked Charlotte years ago. Charlotte… ummm, I dwelled on her image in my mind as I frigged my erect little clitoris; I wish she were still here at St. Martin’s Academy. I’d LOVE to spank and be spanked by her!
And that’s pretty much how I spent my whole weekend, rubbing out orgasm after orgasm. The Headmaster’s discipline did leave my bottom bruised, which was a turn-on. And I added to it with a lot of self-spanking, dreaming about the Headmaster, his large hand, his stiff cock, Charlotte, her creamy white ass and the cream that comes from our excited pussies… I certainly didn’t get around to studying.
On Monday, I didn’t have to attend that dreadful old Professor William’s class at the end of the day. Instead, I went to the Headmaster’s office and got trained by Miss Evans. Mostly, I did clerical stuff like typing letters and filing papers. Once, I had the file drawer pulled out and the Headmaster needed to pass by behind me. He brushed up against my backside, and I swear, it seemed like he had another erection tenting his trousers!
At dinner that evening in the dorm cafeteria, I could tell that I was the major topic of conversation, especially by that gossip Cherry. Why wasn’t I in class? Was it true I was allowed to do something special for the Headmaster? But no one approached me, so I just sat there like the cat that ate the canary.
So, Tuesday afternoon, just after I arrived smiling and cheery in the Headmaster’s office, Cherry made her appearance. By contrast, she looked mad and scared simultaneously. She had a demerit slip in her hand stating that she’d been talking in class (again), and was, in Professor William’s opinion, in need of further discipline. The Headmaster escorted Cherry into his office. I tried to hang by his closed door, but needn’t have bothered. The Headmaster raised his voice to announce that Cherry was to go stand on the stool and bare her backside while he prepared to give her another spanking.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she whispered furiously as she stood there and folded up her pleated skirt and pulled the green knickers down beneath her curvaceous bum.
“Working!” I smiled. “I don’t need to ask what you’re doing here…” and I patted her bared cheek. I knocked on the Headmaster’s office door. He answered by opening it. “Could I speak to you, please, Sir?”
“I’m very busy, Jean.”
“I know, but it’s important.” He let me in and closed the door. I spoke to him as if he was a peer, a fellow co-ed, not the boss. “I know Cherry. She’s a vile gossip. She’s already been spreading stuff about me, probably about you and me. You need to stop her in her tracks!” The Headmaster looked puzzled, so I connected the dots for him. “Don’t just spank Cherry Smith… Spank her and strap her and cane her deserving plump ass! Send her back to class with the news that any young lady who darkens your door repeatedly for discipline will receive the same strict treatment. Do a good job of punishing this trouble-maker, and you’ll put an end to it. If you don’t nip it in the bud, Cherry will cause more trouble than you can imagine…”
“I think you might be right, Jean. Thank you!”
“I have one more thing to say, a favor to ask…”
“Yes?”
I stepped forward into his space. I smiled lasciviously. I reached out and rubbed the turgid protrusion in the Headmaster’s trousers, and asked, “Let me hide behind your desk and watch. I hate Cherry. I want to see her punished hard. I think I can make it worth your while afterward…”
The Headmaster caught my drift. Whipping Cherry’s callipygous bottom would excite us both. I’d be able to “relieve the pressure” when the errant student was dismissed. He put his hand over my hand on his throbbing manhood, and answered, “Hide yourself well and don’t make a sound.”
“Yes, Sir!”
He opened the office door. “Cherry, come in here.”
The dejected girl stepped down off the stool and into his inner sanctum. She looked around for me.
“I dismissed Jean through that door,” he said, nodding his head toward the door at the back of his office. Cherry didn’t know that this was just a closet. He pulled the spanking horse out into the middle of the room. “Over you go, girl,” he ordered.
Cherry assumed the position. From my squatting vantage, I could see a profile of her proffered backside and the Headmaster’s clothed erection. I pulled my knickers out of the way, applied the fingers of my right hand to the familiar duty of playing in my pussy, while the fingers of my left tickled my anus. This was how I usually masturbated. I realized that I was already panting noisily, and tried to quiet my breathing, but my handiwork made this impossible.
“You’ve been sent here two times in two days, young lady. You’re going to receive a sound spanking. But your discipline won’t end there…”
And he began belaboring dear Cherry’s bum. He spanked her very hard, for a very long time. Cherry began crying almost immediately, which was a good thing, because I began climaxing just as rapidly. It was all so fucking delicious! Only when her twin orbs glowed hotly did he stop to step back and survey his achievement.
“Do you think you’ve learned your lesson, Cherry?”
“Yes, Sir! I never been punished so hard!”
“Well, I don’t. We’re just getting started. Boost yourself higher over the horse…”
As Cherry wriggled her jiggling curves over the summit of the horse so that her buttocks were split and displayed obscenely, the Headmaster walked to the desk (where I squatted), opened the bottom drawer, and extracted a thick razor strap. Seeing her fate in his hands, Cherry began to whimper.
“Please, Sir…” she implored.
“I appreciate your good manners, but you can save the ‘please and thank you’s’ until I’ve finished punishing you.” He cracked the leather across the palm of his left hand, stepped into position, and began cracking it across her tush. Cherry yelped with the administration of each hard stroke. The heavy leather made such a loud, lovely sound when it impacted her soft, round rump. I diddled all the more furiously. He set a steady beat with the strap across her bum, like a metronome. Ten minutes later, Cherry sprawled across the horse limply, bathed in sweat, her voice was hoarse from crying out, her backside incandescent. As Cherry became all the more exhausted, the Headmaster seemed to grow all the more invigorated. He, too, was sweating and panting, but he didn’t show any other signs of tiring. And his erection seemed to have a life of its own, throbbing and lurching beneath his now tight-fitting trousers.
He stopped strapping to give them both a breather. “You know, when you first came to me, last Friday, I remember thinking that you had the prettiest pair of buttocks. So round and firm and proud. But I have to say that they are even prettier when bright red and hot to the touch.” He reached out and caressed her flesh. I was suddenly jealous; was he just saying that, or did he really find her phat butt infatuating? Did he like her ass more than mine? The Headmaster interrupted my worries. “If I sent you back to class now, your bottom would cool in the autumn air, and look nearly normal by the time you showed it to your professor. You need a more long-lasting reminder of your time over the horse this afternoon. Something that will proclaim that you got a good lesson…” He strode over to the hat-rack and lifted a curl-handled thin rattan cane off it. He swished it through the air. It made a fearful sound, matched by Cherry’s audible gasp. “You’re going to get six of the best with this,” he announced. “And for this, I think you ought to be nude and bent over in the center of the room.”
Accepting her fate, Cherry dismounted, silently removed her sweat-soaked clothes, and bent her nude form over at the waist. By this time, I was squatting over a puddle of jism, as I’d climaxed too many times to count. And the best was yet to come, six of them! I was mesmerized by what transpired before me. That deliciously dangerous sound of the cane cutting through the air. The incredible THWACK sound as it landed across the poor girl’s well-padded posterior. The way her flesh rippled, contorted as her muscles flexed, then relaxed, as a bright red welt blossomed where the cane had landed.
“Count them,” he demanded.
“One! May I have another?”
It was like a litany, repeated over and over.
THWACK! “Ugh! Two, thank you, may I have another?”
I was near-kneeling in a prayer-like state, instead of fingering a rosary, I diddled my love-button. Cherry’s screams rent the air, along with her careful counting, covering my stifled moans. The Headmaster grunted as he served up every lash, like a tennis champion serving up ace after ace across her big bum.
THWACK! “Six, Sir. Will that be sufficient?”
“Yes, Cherry. You took that very well. You may gather your clothing and get dressed in the hallway. You need not spend any more time on the stool. Go back to class and show Professor William’s and his class your bottom. I hope that’ll be a good lesson for everyone.”
“Yes, Sir, thank you, Sir,” she sniffled.
As soon as she closed the door behind her, I rushed to the Headmaster and he to me. We embraced, kissing passionately. We whispered, knowing that Cherry was still just outside the door, struggling into her clothing.
“That was so fantastic!” I breathed.
“I know,” he enthused under his breath.
“You were so masterful, so sexy!” I continued sotto voce.
“Thank you!” he returned. We heard the heels of Cherry’s shoes make a staccato beat down the hallway.
“I think I came about two thousand times!” I fairly yelled, bending across the horse that was still warm.
“I wanted to!” my lover replied. He released the raging stead from his pants. It leapt forth like a thoroughbred out of a starting gate.
“Fuck me!” I implored. I parted my buttocks for him.
He aligned his horse-sized cock up my crack, pressed the flesh of my buttocks around it and began rogering. I sighed. I wanted to ask who had the prettier set of cheeks, skanky Cherry or me, but decided to wait until later.
Instead I asked, “Do you like hot-dogging me?”
“Passionately!” he panted. “What? Don’t you?”
“I do! I was just thinking how it could be better… We’ve got to keep your big thing away from my pussy; I can’t afford to get pregnant! But…”
“What?” he grunted.
“I just wonder how delicious penetration could be… Do you?”
“Of course!”
“Do you wanna… maybe put that… up my butt-hole…?”
No sooner were the words out of my mouth than the Headmaster was pressing his cock head against my backdoor.
“Whoa, there, cowboy! Do you happen to have any lubricant?”
The Headmaster spit on my rosebud and into his hand, which he rubbed on his cock head. I took him by that hand and led him across the room to behind his desk. My puddle of jism had cooled, but it was still as slick as snot. I fingered some up my tooter while he coated his cock with some more.
“That’s better,” I sighed. “Take it slow; that’s a big peg you’re trying to fit into my small hole. That’s it…! God, that’s fucking sweet! Yes! Push it up there… all the way…”
I diddled my abused clit. I climaxed. Apparently, that made me grip his cock in spasms, because he orgasmed right after me. It felt like he was giving me an enema of cum, he filled my bowels with so much ejaculate.
“That was… amazing!” he finally uttered.
I was silent.
“Are you okay?” he solicited. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“No. The butt sex was amazing, just like you said. I just… I think I feel guilty for enjoying something so dirty so much…” As if adding punctuation to what I said, his shrinking cock popped out of my butt-hole, followed by a raspberry of a loud fart. He’d pumped a lot of air up there and it had to come out. I reached back and clasped a hand across my crack. In actuality, I didn’t feel guilty, I just wanted him to think I did, to get what I wanted. That fart just helped me blush like I was actually feeling blue.
“What… what can I do…?” he asked. I tried to keep from smiling at how easy it was to manipulate a man.
“I think… maybe I need a little of the medicine you gave Cherry. I need… a taste of the cane, to punish my nastiness… I just feel so sinful for enjoying the butt fucking so much…”
“Oh… okay…” he said, sounding bewildered but fine with my reasoning.
I pushed him backward until he sat on the edge of the desk and threw myself across his lap.
“Spank me first, warm me up for the cane,” hunger evident in my voice.
He complied. He spanked me just like I like it, with enough umpf behind each swat for me to know I’m getting spanked, just this side of too painful, each blow intense, but not so intense that I couldn’t take it, even as the swats added up and started to really burn, covering the expanse of my expansive buttocks. I rubbed my pudendum against him, feeling my sap start to flow anew, feeling his cock grow hard against my hip. I leapt up when I didn’t think I could take any more without regretting it.
“Thank you, Sir! Do you think two good stripes will answer my needs?” I said as I bent over deeply. Another fart escaped my well-trafficked anus. “Make it three, Sir, for that rude outburst. Please.”
I was scared. I was excited. I feared what was to come. I desperately wanted my backside to be marked. I felt the dreaded rod tap my tush. My buttocks clenched. I reminded myself to relax. The taps were gone. I heard that sound…
Swish, THWACK!
“Yeow!” I stood bolt upright, clutched my wounded cheeks, rubbed furiously, which only intensified the burn. I danced in place, tears coursing down my face. Then I remembered how stoically Cherry had accepted her caning. Maybe she was worn-out and couldn’t fuss any more. Maybe he gave me a harder stripe than Cherry, I thought. But it motivated me to take my medicine. “Thank you, Sir. One. I’m a lascivious butt fuck whore, I enjoyed being nasty. Please, may I have another?” I expected to feel those aim-taking taps, but instead just heard that atrocious whistle.
Swish, THWACK!
The image of Cherry’s big bum rippling beneath the harsh tutelage of this same cane made me take the lash with more grace. With a clenched jaw (and buttocks to match) I enunciated, “Thank you, Sir. Two. I need this whipping. Please give it to me without mercy…” I stuck my ass out for it and tried not to fart.
Swish, THWACK!
The hardest of the lashes cut across that tender crease where butt meets thigh. I stood up and let it propel me into my lover’s arms. I pressed my naked length against him hard. His hands caressed my stripes. I sobbed uncontrollably, then demanded, “Do you like Cherry’s body more than mine?”
Surprised, the Headmaster recovered to answer, “She’s a girl with a baby-fat butt. You’re a woman, with a woman’s appetites.” He kissed me hard.
I felt an erection pressing against me, even though I thought I’d drained his balls with intercourse up my tight tush. “Then fuck me,” I offered nakedly. “Again, not up my ass this time. You wore my poor pooper out for a while. But hot dog my butt. I need you…!”
He did, roughly manhandling my sensitive ass flesh around his cock as he rogered me hard. He came in strong jets of spunk that splattered across my back and dribbled across my bum.
We cuddled as if we were in a satin-sheet-covered bed instead of leaning against his desk. “Did you like fucking me up the butt?” I coyly inquired.
“Yes!”
“I hope we’ll do it again, regularly. Did you like caning me?”
“Honestly, yes, very much!”
“We’ll have to do that again regularly, too. I need it.” He smiled. I took his spent cock in my hand. “And I want to practice sucking you off. Will you teach me?”
“Oh, yes,” he stated with sincerity.
“Right now, I think I need to go back to my dorm and take a nap.”
“Sleep tight, beautiful,” he smiled. I kissed him.
But I didn’t take a nap. I took a shower, wrapped my damp nudity in a thick terry-cloth robe, and went down the hall to knock on Cherry’s door.
“Just a minute,” I heard her say. She answered the door still pulling on her robe. She seemed sweaty, as well as slightly out of breath.
“Can I come in?” She closed the door behind me when I was inside. I smelled the distinctive scent of aroused vagina. “Word along the corridor is that you were sent to the Headmaster’s office for gossiping about me in William’s class.” Cherry just stood impassively before me. “They’re also saying that you got a memorable thrashing…”
“What if I did, what’s it to you?” she countered.
I turned around and let my swirling robe hem flash Cherry with a glimpse of my welted bottom. It was fast enough so that she could see vivid red stripes, but brief enough so that I don’t think she could count them. “He called me into his office right after you, saying that he wanted to put an end to our bickering. He spanked and strapped and caned me, too!”
Cherry melt, hugged me like I was suddenly her long-lost sister. “Wasn’t it terrible?”
“It hurt like hell,” I said honestly and hugged her closer. “…At the same time, it made me feel kinda funny inside, kinda sexy…”
“I know!” she returned conspiratorially. I tried to rub some cold cream into the welts and ended up masturbating.
“Me, too!” I confided. We giggled, still hugging. She looked up at me. I had the suspicion that Cherry was a lezzie, so returned her unquestioning gaze, the type of look that only bad stage actors and gays falling in lust give each other. “Would you like me to… continue rubbing cold cream into your bum?”
“That’d be… nice…” she said, shrugging off the robe and lying face down on her bed. I didn’t take off my robe, wanting to keep the severity of my welts secret, but straddled her waist facing backwards, and made sure that Cherry could tell that my naked vagina was rubbing against her spine, and that it was wet. I painted each of her stripes with cold cream, then rubbed it into her large, well-toned cheeks. Cherry moaned. I leaned down and kissed those cheeks softly but repeatedly. She moaned louder. I kissed her into the crevice, frenching her rosebud. I trailed my tongue down the length of her crack, across the pink perineum, and lapped at her labia.
“I’ve never been with a woman… though I fantasize about it constantly… teach me how to lick you…”
“Just do what you think would feel good,” she answered. I did. Apparently, it was correct because Cherry climaxed. I spun around and laid my length against hers. She kissed my glazed mouth, then leaned up to kiss her way down my length, spending a lot of time sucking my nipples, then tonguing my innie navel, and finally really getting into my pussy. Cherry knew what she was doing; I came hard. I pulled my knees up so that my ass was lifted off the mattress. I reached down and tickled my rosebud.
“You don’t mind if I touch myself back here while you do that?” I asked.
“You’re anal-erotic?”
“Very!”
So, Cherry concentrated on my anus with her talented mouth. I wondered if she could taste the Headmaster’s cum, or my jism that we used as lube there. I tried not to think about what else she might taste, just focus on the sublime sensations.
“You’re licking my bum-hole and I’m about to cum from it!” I exclaimed. “God, that feels good!”
“We are naughty, aren’t we?” Cherry asked rhetorically before diving back into my anus. “We ought to be spanked for it…”
“If you’ll spank me, I’ll spank you,” I suggested. “Not like that mean Headmaster does it, but lovingly…”
Cherry smiled conspiratorially, then tongued me energetically.
Now knowing how I was going to spend the evening, I came again in a series of really good orgasms. At least I didn’t fart.
Charlotte had graduated. I wish I’d known her. But I now had a new Charlotte in Cherry, someone I planned to play spanking games with, someone for soft, cuddly sex. I had the Headmaster just where I wanted him, someone who would punish me hard and fuck me harder. St. Martin’s Academy suddenly seemed a whole lot more fun!
Note….this photograph is not mine. Is it real vintage? I am not sure. Is it yours? If so, take it as the best compliment I can give, that it is here. Of course, I will credit you… (for the rest of the set to go with it though!…..::chuckle::)
Let us retreat from the hustle and bustle of the Inveigle’s auditorium as the audience departs after one of the Saturday night shows and head for the Inveigle’s bar. The two young ladies we met earlier at the start of the Inveigle story are sitting in a quiet corner, animatedly talking to each other and sipping large glasses of Madeira. However, before we eavesdrop on their conversation, let’s learn a little more about this pretty pair.
They are called Emma and Melanie. They rarely miss a Saturday night show at the Inveigle and can usually be seen sitting in the front row close to the front of the stage, determined to see things up close. Both ladies are very attractive. Emma is 23 years of age, with blonde hair, matched by a fresh creamy complexion. In contrast, Melanie has light brown hair. She is slightly older than Emma at 25 years of age. They are ‘closet lesbians’ with a shared love of spanking.
Both had left home as soon as they could at age of 21 wanting to be free from parental constraints. They met each other at work, both working as secretaries for a large bank based in the City. To save on renting costs, they had agreed to share a small apartment. Forced to share the only bed in their one-bedroom apartment, they soon developed a mutual attraction for each other and became lovers.
Of the two, Melanie possessed the more dominant personality and frequently chided her younger companion over her perceived failings. Emma, however, didn’t seem to mind about her bossy partner. In fact, she secretly rather liked being controlled by this slightly older woman, abdicating most of the responsibility for her life to Melanie. She felt cared for and loved. That’s what mattered.
The two ladies were happy in their life together, but the weekly grind of working long hours, five days a week often left them feeling in need of some excitement that could occasionally take them away from their humdrum existence. There was very little for two young, unaccompanied ladies to do for entertainment at this time in history. However, all was about to change.
One Saturday afternoon, Melanie had been down to the local corner shop for some food and had been handed a flier by a strangely dressed young girl in a very short dress which showed off her long frilly drawers and black and white striped stockings. As Melanie entered the apartment, Emma saw that she was holding a colourful-looking flier.
“What’s that Melanie? Anything of interest?” Emma enquired.
“Well, Emma, it might be! Have a look, it looks and sounds deliciously naughty!” Melanie said, in an excited voice.
She handed the flier to Emma…
“Gosh!” exclaimed Emma, staring at the image of three naked female bottoms bending over with their split drawers in varying states of opening. “I’ve never heard of the Inveigle Theatre. What do you think it’s all about?” “Oh, I’m only guessing, but that little statement in the bottom left-hand corner of the flier might provide a clue!”
Emma read out the statement, looking rather puzzled, “‘Watch our bottoms glow red … we dare to bare!’ ….What’s that meant to mean?!… Oh, and it says, ‘ladies only’! I don’t understand.”
Melanie, the more Worldly-wise of the pair, chuckled, “Well, my love, I think I can have a good guess. The Inveigle is a one of those theatres that caters for rather ‘specialised tastes’.”
Emma still looked puzzled. “What ‘specialised tastes’? I still don’t understand.”
Melanie looked directly into Emma’s eyes and then said one word, “Spanking!”
There was a shocked silence, before Emma blushed bright red and spluttered,“Spanking? Really?! You mean they put on shows showing ladies spanking each other in front of an audience and, from the look of it, they are spanked on their b…bare bottoms?!”
“Don’t look so horrified and such a prude, Emma,” replied Melanie. “It sounds rather fun and exciting! I hear that female spanking shows have become all the rage amongst the likes of us! Let’s give it a try! We never go to anything exciting together. It’ll do us good to get out and do something different for a change on a Saturday night. It’ll be better than sitting here in front of the fire dosing or darning our stockings! Besides which the show is only 6 pence and it’s for ladies only. We’ll be perfectly safe!”
Emma sighed and replied, “All right, Melanie. I suppose we could give it a try. We have nothing to lose. If it’s not any good, we could always just get up and leave. When does it start?”
“Brilliant!“ replied Melanie, with a big smile. ‘It starts at 8.00, so we’d better have something to eat and then get changed into our finery!’
And so Melanie and Emma attended their first ever show at the Inveigle and, at least to Emma’s surprise, thoroughly enjoyed it. In fact, they were enthralled by the razzmatazz, the music, the costumes and all those lovely naked female bottoms getting spanked and even caned in front of their very eyes. Thereafter they became regular attenders at the shows, and always came away feeling very happy and distinctly aroused. Such were the ‘aphrodisiacal powers’ of attending an Inveigle show, they barely slept a wink on Saturday nights as they relieved each other’s tensions in ways that might shock many well-brought up young ladies!
It didn’t take long for Melanie to initiate Emma in the delights of spanking. After one particularly arousing show in which two new Inveigle girls, Samantha and Charlotte, first performed their special act, Melanie decided it was time to try something different with Emma.
As the two girls arrived back in their apartment after the show, they cast off their hats and cloaks. Melanie stoked up the fire and poured two glasses of wine before collapsing on the sofa next to Emma, giving her a long lingering kiss.
“Wasn’t the show this evening just brilliant, Emma?”
“Oh yes! It was even better than ever. I just loved the new act with that lovely pair of girls, Samantha and Charlotte. They both have such beautiful bottoms and Samantha certainly knows how to spank!”
“Mmmh! I agree. They were rather wonderful!” said Melanie, and then, after a long pause continued, “Have you ever been spanked, Emma?” “No, never! Why do you ask?” replied Emma. “Have you?”
“Maybe!” said Melanie, in a rather evasive tone.
Emma turned to look into Melanie’s face, “What do you mean by ‘maybe’?! Either you have or haven’t!”
“Oh, all right. Yes, I have!” replied Melanie, with a little laugh. “What was it like? Who spanked you? What did they spank you with? Was it on your bare bottom?” Emma rattled off a whole list of questions, suddenly eager to hear more.
“Gosh, so many questions, Emma! Well, if you must know, I was spanked on a number of occasions at my boarding school by one of the senior prefects. Most of the discipline was left to the senior girls, rather than the teachers. This particular prefect was very strict and feared by most of the juniors, but I rather liked her. In fact, I rather had a crush on her and sometimes would deliberately misbehave so that I could be sent to see her. I think she realised this, but didn’t let on. Every time I misbehaved, she dealt with me just like everyone else.”
Emma looked at Melanie, hanging on her every word. “Go on, Melanie, don’t stop there. Do tell me how she ‘dealt with you’ and don’t miss out any details!”
“You’re so impatient, Emma!” Melanie said, with a little chuckle. “When I reported to her study, she would always give me a good telling off before ordering me to raise my skirts and bend over her knee. She would then proceed to open my drawers so that my bottom was to all intents bared. She’d usually spank me with her hand, although she did sometimes use her hairbrush if she thought I had been especially naughty.”
“Did it hurt?” enquired Emma.
“Oh yes, especially the hairbrush. It stung like anything and soon had me in tears, howling my head off! But….afterwards, once the stinging subsided, a lovely warmth engulfed my bottom and spread to you know where! Invariably, it left me feeling very aroused and I had to rush to the privacy of the water closet to relieve myself as soon as she had finished with me!”
“Gosh! Well I never! Who’d have thought it?” said Emma, looking somewhat horrified and excited at the same time.
“Well after that revelation, I have another confession to make, Emma. As I reached the age of 18, I was appointed a senior prefect and, as you may guess, I got to spank a few of the junior girls in my charge.”
“Really? You actually spanked other girls? Crikey! …..I just have to ask…..did you…did you enjoy it?” enquired Emma, looking somewhat amazed by this second revelation.
“Oh yes! It was great fun, even more so than having my own bottom spanked! There’s nothing quite so exciting as having a nice plump young lady’s rump to redden wriggling across your knees!”
“I’m shocked! How can you possibly sound so pleased to cause someone else so much pain?” Emma said, trying to sound genuinely shocked, but failing miserably. Her eyes sparkled with excitement and lust, giving away her true feelings!
“Would you like to try it?” asked Melanie.
“Try what?” returned Emma, now the one being evasive.
“You know exactly what I mean, young lady, so don’t play the innocent with me! I’ve got a good mind to put you across my knee right away!”
Emma laughed, and then said, “Yes please! I thought you’d never ask!”
Melanie quickly seized the moment, “Oh, I see! So you’re asking me to spank you. Well, in that case, you’d better remove your skirt and petticoats, and then come across my knee.”
“Yes, Mistress, of course!”
Emma stood up and quickly removed her outer clothing and stood there in just her chemise, drawers and stockings. Melanie did likewise. It would be so much easier to spank her friend without the constraints of a corset, bulky dress and petticoats. She then sat down on the edge of their bed and patted her lap.
“Over you go, you naughty little minx!”
Emma slid over Melanie’s proffered knees, giggling nervously. She felt Melanie’s hand reach down to her drawers, pulling the sides apart as far as they would go. She could feel a gentle breeze of cool air wafting over her exposed cheeks as they ‘popped’ into view.
“Have I ever told you, Emma, what a lovely bottom you have?” Melanie said, stroking it gently with her hand.
Emma smiled to herself and giggled again, “No you haven’t… Mistress!”
Melanie continued to admire and caress her lover’s bottom for some time, but finally decided it was high time to introduce this virgin bottom in the delights of spanking.
She had decided not to spank Emma too hard this first time. It wouldn’t do to put her off at this stage of the proceedings. Emma needed to appreciate that a spanking could be an erotic act rather than just pure pain! After all, this was not meant to be a punishment.
Melanie started to slap Emma’s bottom just hard enough to make it sting a little and produce a little colour. She alternated her smacks between the two lovely mounds protruding through the split in Emma’s drawers, making them wobble like two pink jellies on a plate. It was a delightful sight. Emma seemed to absorb the smacks with ease and Melanie could feel her friend’s body relaxing across her knees.
“How are you finding it so far, Emma?” she asked.
“It’s actually rather nice. I’m beginning to see why you enjoyed your trips to that senior prefect’s study! My bottom is beginning to tingle delightfully. Even my pussy is tingling!” came Emma’s giggled response.
“Would you like me to start smacking your bottom a little harder now, Emma?”
“I suppose you could try,” Emma responded, “but please don’t get too carried away. I’m still getting used to the sensations!”
Melanie stepped up the intensity ever so slowly, each smack only slightly harder than the previous one. She kept a careful note of her friend’s reactions. As the smacks became harder, she noticed that Emma no longer lay passively across her lap. Her bottom started to squirm a little and she started to let out little gasps as each smack landed. Melanie also noted that Emma’s bottom was becoming steadily redder, no longer a soft pink colour. Just as Melanie reached the point where thought she had better stop, rather surprisingly Emma suddenly turned her head towards Melanie and said, “Please Melanie, will you spank me really hard now. You can stop holding back.”
“Are you sure, Emma?”
“Yes, I’m sure. Go on, spank my bottom as hard as you can and keep going until YOU think I’ve had enough! Ignore my begging and pleading to stop. I need to know what a real spanking feels like! I need to know what all those Inveigle girls seem to get out of it!”
“You are a brave girl, Emma. Alright! If that’s what you really want me to do, then I shall. In that case, I had better lower your drawers right out of the way. I need to access the whole of your bottom and thighs if I’m really going to spank it properly!” Melanie responded excitedly, having been given ‘carte blanche’ to give her friend a real walloping….although, by the time she had finished spanking Emma, the term ‘carte rouge’ might have been more appropriate!
With that, Melanie undid the pink ribbon holding up Emma’s drawers and slid them right down. Then, abandoning all constraint, she really started to lay the smacks on with a will. Emma’s bottom leapt into motion, bucking and wriggling under the onslaught. She started to yelp loudly and tears started to run down her face as her bottom grew redder and redder. ‘This is more like it!’ thought Melanie, as memories of spanking junior girls at school came flooding back.
She continued to spank Emma long and hard, but Emma made no attempt to beg her to stop, despite her now loud howls and shrieks. Finally Melanie stopped feeling exhausted.
“There you are, Emma. That’s enough spanking for me. Even if your bottom can take more, my hand certainly can’t!” Melanie said, gently stroking her friend’s now well-reddened posterior. “Was your spanking as you imagined it, my love?”
Once Emma’s sobbing subsided, she rolled off Melanie’s lap and sat on her knee, giving her a big kiss and hug. “Oh Mel, that was perfect! It’s difficult to describe. It was such a confusing mix of pain and pure pleasure to begin with, but the pleasure eclipsed the pain in the end. Thank you so much! I really, really enjoyed it. Thank you, my love!”
“I’m so pleased. I enjoyed spanking you as well. I’ve wanted to spank you before, but until now I’ve never had the courage to ask,” Melanie said, kissing Emma repeatedly.
They sat quietly on the bed in each other’s embrace for some time before Melanie suddenly whispered in Emma’s ear, “Would you like to try the experience from the other side? Would you like to have a go at spanking me, Emma?”
“Oh, yes please. I thought you’d never ask. I think I might enjoy that as well and it’ll give me the chance of getting my own back!” Emma replied. Emma jumped off Melanie’s lap and sat down on the bed. “Right, stand up then. Your turn to have your bottom warmed!”
Melanie stood up and Emma’s hands quickly reached out, unceremoniously pulling down Melanie’s drawers. Melanie just stood there now half-naked not moving.
“Get over my knee then, young lady. Don’t just stand there gawping at me!” Emma said, with a stern expression on her face.
Melanie complied, nestling herself comfortably across Emma’s knees. Emma wasted no time and began to spank Melanie’s bottom hard and fast. Melanie wriggled around a bit, letting out a few little gasps, but otherwise showed little response. Emma slapped away, but soon discovered that her hand was beginning to smart dreadfully and suddenly stopped.
Melanie turned her head and giggled, “Oh dear, Emma! Would your hand be hurting already by any chance?”
“Errr…well, if you must know, yes, it is hurting!” Emma replied disconsolately.
“There is a saying sometimes used by spankers, ‘this will hurt me more than you’!” Melanie said, laughing. “You might prefer to use my wooden hairbrush. Shall I get it for you?”
Emma, “Yes please! But won’t it hurt you too much?”
Melanie chuckled, “Oh yes, it will certainly hurt, but I think I can still take it. It won’t be the first time my bottom has been closely acquainted with a hairbrush!”
Melanie jumped off Emma’s lap and retrieved the hairbrush from the dressing table and handed it to Emma before repositioning herself across Emma’s lap. “Right, Emma…spank away!”
Emma did just that, walloping her friend’s bottom as hard as she could manage. This time Melanie responded just as Emma had hoped, bucking and wriggling, yipping and yelping loudly just like she had herself earlier. Emma was entranced by the sight of Melanie’s reddening buttocks writhing frantically across her lap and the sounds she was emitting. Clearly Emma was thoroughly enjoying spanking from the ‘other end’!
By the time Emma finally decided to put the hairbrush down, both girls were thoroughly aroused and couldn’t delay any longer. They stripped totally naked and leapt into bed, and then proceeded to give each other some of the best orgasms they had ever experienced in their lives. It was a long night!
Needless to say, spanking became an essential ingredient of their love-making thereafter. The sounds of loud smacks and cries emanating from Melanie’s and Emma’s room on a Saturday night after a visit to the Inveigle became a regular occurrence. It was just as well that their immediate neighbours were elderly and partially deaf!
Anyway, we have left Emma and Melanie for far too long sitting in the Inveigle bar. Let’s return to their quiet corner and listen-in to their animated conversation!
“What did you think of the two new performances tonight, Emma?” asked Melanie, taking another sip of Madeira from her glass.
“Oh, I loved ‘Gentleman Jack’. Despite the absence of any real spanking, I thought that Kate portrayed the character very well. She looked very fetching in her outfit, particularly with that top hat. I must admit, I wouldn’t object to having a session with her and her riding crop if I could afford it!”
“Really?” said Melanie, with a quizzical look on her face. “In that case, perhaps I had better drop into the saddlery shop and purchase a riding crop to use on you! What do you think, Emma?”
Emma laughed, “Put it this way, I wouldn’t stand in your way! Anyway, coming back to the performance, I really found her vivid descriptions of how she spanks her clients utterly enthralling and distinctly arousing. She has a way with words and knows how to play on people’s perverted imaginations!”
Melanie responded, “Oh yes, she certainly has a way with words, and I’m sure she also has a way with that riding crop of hers! I’d love to watch her using it on you. Now that would be very arousing! Unfortunately, as you say, we can’t afford to have a private session with her, although I suppose we could try to save up some money to do so later in the year?”
“Maybe, but it’ll take some time, especially if you squander money buying riding crops!” Emma replied. “Anyway, what did you think of the Tableaux Vivants act?”
“Oh, now that was rather good, in much the same way as Kate’s portrayal of Gentleman Jack, but with the added bonus of seeing those three naked ladies posing for the tableaux. I loved Kate’s descriptions of Herric’s drawings. They really made me look again at those wonderful images with fresh eyes and brought them to life. They’re incredibly erotic.”
“Yes, I would agree with you, Mel. I particularly enjoyed the final part of the act. You know, the bit after the final tableau when the audience groaned in frustration at not witnessing the girl actually being caned. Just as I thought there would be a riot, we were treated to the thrilling sounds of a cane swishing and thwacking away, followed by loud yelps from behind the curtain. Then, to crown it all, the girl’s red striped buttocks stuck out through the curtains, clearly displaying what we had heard was for real! I thought this was beautifully choreographed, a master touch!”
“Yes, that was a rather clever touch,” Melanie confirmed. “Anyway, I suppose we had better finish our drinks and leave soon, although I’d first like to have a look inside the souvenir shop in the foyer. Do you realise that we have almost been together as a couple for almost a year. I want to purchase something I’ve had a look at before to commemorate our relationship and all the happy times we have spent together here and at home.”
“Gosh! I didn’t realise we had been together for so long. Yes, let’s get something to celebrate our wonderful relationship, Mel! I wonder what you’ve been eyeing up?”
“Come on then. Drink up and let me show you.”
The girls left the bar and went to Mr. Trentham’s Emporium, the Inveigle’s souvenir shop, which by now was devoid of other customers. The shop was largely filled with colourful posters and photographic images of the various stars of the show, mainly in black and white or sepia. A few had clearly been hand-coloured. Melanie ignored all these and picked up a photographic album. Apart from the front cover, it contained blank pages on which customers could paste photographs from those on sale taken by Mr.Trentham, the Inveigle’s resident photographer. His work was much admired by all the Inveigle’s many fans.
“This is what I thought we could buy,” said Melanie, showing Emma the album. “We can purchase our favourite images, a few at a time when we come to the show each week. What do you think?”
“Oh yes, Mel. What a lovely idea. It’ll contain such lovely memories for us both, if you think we can afford it?” Emma said, in an enthusiastic voice. Just at that moment, Abigail strolled into the shop. “Good evening ladies. It’s so nice to see you at the Inveigle again. You two must be our most regular customers.” Abigail had noticed this young couple from her box on numerous occasions sitting near the front of the auditorium. The Inveigle’s success depended on such ladies and she felt she needed to show her appreciation.
The girls turned round and curtsied. Melanie spoke up for them both, “Oh, good evening Miss Hayes. It’s so lovely to meet you. Your establishment is so wonderful, we really have a job to stay away! We just loved the two new acts tonight.”
“I’m so pleased you enjoyed them. We had such fun devising them, although it was mainly Kate’s idea.”
“Oh, Kate is such an incredible performer,” Emma gushed. “We’d love to meet her at some point.”
“That might be possible to arrange at some stage… I see that you are thinking of buying one of Mr. Trentham’s new albums. Perhaps, you might like him to take a few pictures of yourselves to put in it?” suggested Abigail. “Oh, we couldn’t possibly afford that, Miss Hayes, but thank you for the suggestion,” replied Melanie.
“Oh, no ladies, I was thinking of letting you have a photographic session with him for free, ‘on the house’. You’re both such good customers, it’s the least I can do as a way of thanks. Besides which, Mr, Trentham is always on the lookout for what he naughtily likes to call ‘fresh flesh’, particularly if you’d be prepared to remove a few items of clothing and expose your bottoms! He is what you might call a ‘bottom connoisseur’!”
The girls looked somewhat taken aback by this last suggestion. To expose their bottoms in front of a man? They weren’t at all sure!
Abigail sensed their reluctance. “Oh don’t worry ladies. He’s a perfectly safe and honourable young man. Besides which, you’ll be chaperoned by one of my girls. You can even spank her or get her to spank you if you want a few ’action photos’ in your album!”
“Really? Oh thank you, Miss Hayes, thank you. It’s so kind of you to offer. We’d really enjoy that if it’s no bother?” Melanie responded enthusiastically for the two of them.
“No problem, Ladies. My pleasure,” said Abigail, smiling at the pair. She could see that both ladies had attractive figures and bottoms. They might just provide wonderful new subjects for Mr. Trentham photographic skills. “If you’d let me have your names and address, I’ll contact you with some suggested dates and times. Let me know which is convenient for you.” Melanie quickly pulled out her little notepad from her handbag, wrote down their contact details and handed it to Abigail. “Thank you so much, Miss Hayes, we’ll look forward to the session.”
The two ladies were over the moon with excitement. Who would have thought that they were worthy subjects to pose for ‘the’ Mr. Trentham? It would be a really memorable experience to put into their album.
After Abigail left the shop, the two ladies chose several photographs to start their album before finally leaving for home. It had been a memorable evening in more ways than one.
Here are the photographs Melanie & Emma purchased for their new album, the first two of Kate as ‘Gentleman Jack’, and the third of Kate dressed as a maid about to be birched:
True to her word, Abigail did indeed arrange a photographic session for the two girls, assigning one of the Inveigle girls to chaperone them in Mr. Trentham’s studio. Determined to have some realistic shots, the two girls asked the girl to give them both a real spanking. It was so stimulating to be spanked by another girl and to be able to watch each other being spanked. They even went as far as accepting a proper caning from the girl. They couldn’t wait to see the results, all those lovely tramlines across their bare bottoms! Here are just a few of the photographs Mr. Trentham took of their marked bottoms, during their photoshoot:
A few days later, the girls received a note from Mr.Trentham to say their photographs were ready if they wished to collect them from his shop. When they arrived, they were met by Mr. Trentham in person. He showed them the photographs and they were delighted. He then went on to say, “You two girls make delightful models. I don’t suppose you would consider doing some more modelling for me? I’d pay you to do so.”
“Before I give you an answer, would you mind if we just had a private discussion with each other outside, Mr. Trentham?” asked Melanie.
“Of course not, my dear. Go ahead. Take your time.”
Once outside, the pair had a long discussion and finally came to the conclusion that they would model. They could do with the extra money and it might prove fun.
They returned to the shop and told Mr. Trentham they would agree to modelling for him. He was delighted. He then went on to sketch out an idea that they might like to try out. He burrowed around in a cupboard drawer and produced a small woodcut picture, clearly taken from an old book. It showed two entwined young ladies spanking each other simultaneously. One was using a mirror on the floor to watch herself spanking her partner’s bottom.
“What about a pose along these lines? I know that you both love spanking each other, but I bet you’ve never tried this before?” Mr. Trentham said, with a little chuckle.
Emma took the picture and looked at it carefully. “Gosh, Mel, that looks rather fun, don’t you think? I’ve never thought of doing that!”
Melanie took the picture and her eyes lit up, said “Oh yes, Emma, that looks like a really exciting idea to try out.” Then she turned to Mr. Trentham. “Yes, we’re very happy to try this.”
“Excellent,” replied Mr. Trentham. “I thought it would be rather fun if you dressed up as two young housemaids for the shoot. I’ve got an extensive wardrobe of clothes in my studio. I’m sure we’ve got something that will fit you both.”
“Oh yes, that sounds good to us,” replied Melanie again. “We like dressing up!”
Emma then turned to Melanie and whispered something in her ear. Melanie nodded her ascent. Turning back to Mr. Trentham, Emma then said in a slightly nervous voice, blushing like mad, “Neither of us has ever been spanked by a m..man. We were w…wondering whether we could be two naughty young housemaids and get some pictures of you s…spanking us together? Does that sound too outrageous?”
“Oh no, young lady, not at all! The only slight problem is that I can’t take photographs at the same time as spanking you!”
Emma looked disappointed, “Oh well, it was just a silly idea I had. Never mind.”
“Wait a moment,” said Mr. Trentham, “I’ve just had a bright idea. I’ve got a young lady apprentice who could take the photos for me under my instructions. She could also act as your chaperone, not that you need to worry about me. I’m a gentleman through and through!”
Emma’s face broadened into a big smile, “Oh Mr. Trentham, that will be most exciting! We’ll look forward to the shoot. When would you like us to come to your studio?”
“Would Saturday afternoon suit you both?”
“Yes, that would be ideal for us. Thank you.”
And so the photoshoot took place the following Saturday. Here are a few of the photographs that were taken, all of which they proudly added to their their album, adding a few comments to their captions:
US SPANKING EACH OTHER ON OUR PHOTOSHOOT AT MR. TRENTHAM’ STUDIO AT THE INVEIGLE
Melanie spanking Emma
‘’Emma has such a delightful sexy bottom… I could spank it all day!’’ Mel xxx
Emma spanking Melanie
”I got my own back and eventually managed to wipe that smile off her face!” Emma xxx
OUR FIRST EVER SPANKING FROM A MAN!
Mr. Trentham spanking Melanie
“‘Mmmmh! He was such a gentleman!’’ Mel xxx
Mr. Trentham spanking Emma
‘‘He had a rather heavy hand, but it was most ‘stimulating’ . He made me cum!” Emma xxx
MR. TRENTHAM’S LEATHER SLIPPER!
Mr. Trentham slippering us together with a leather slipper
“Gosh! Didn’t that slipper sting! He got rather carried away and our bottoms were very red and sore for several days, but what a memory!”
Asa’s Note :-
These photos are of me, from one of my videos, spanking Charlotte and Amber. I am a private man, please respect them, by not copying and using them.
