The Governess of Spanking Dreams, looked again, in disgust, to the dangling sperm in the bush, and the sticky patch on her hand from handling the latch on the gate where it had dripped.
She looked at Princess Spanky, wildly bouncing up and down on the suction dildo.
It did not need Sherlock to work out that her little spanking pet had been masturbating, on show, whilst men….Good Lord?! How many??… had been stood, lustily wanking, shooting their loads everywhere. What about the neighbours??? “Right young lady! Here I am with a treat in my bag, because I thought you were being a good girl. Whilst in reality, you have been taking very naughty liberties!!” She said to herself as she watched.
“Oooooh you naughty, naughty, NAUGHTY!!! Girl. Its a spanking for you!” her Mistress said.
Charlotte had no idea, she could not hear, she did not know here Mistress had worked everything out and was stood watching, waiting.
Here we see my Head Girl Samantha. She is a very good girl, never nasty with other girls, and never spiteful with other girls, she is always pleasant and kind. An excellent pupil and very bright.
I have asked her to attend spankings and other punishments of older girls. I may need them held by her if they struggle, and even if not, the humiliation of being spanked with her looking on, is a good addition to any punishment.
I have just given Charlotte, 20 with the plimsol and a few with my hand. I have left my Study to attend to another matter, and asked Samantha to stand by Charlotte and ensure she stays in position, if not, she must tell me and I will deliver a further spanking. She looks down at Charlotte’s bottom, it is the first spanked bottom she has seen so close.
Charlotte squirms in embarrassment, a girl her age, seeing her get spanked and now left in charge of her, stood staring at her red sore bare bottom. And if she moves, it’s quite likely that she will tell Mr.Jones and he will spank her again. She is humiliated.
She can hear Samantha moving from foot to foot and adjusting her position.
Samantha is enjoying the view and is very aroused by what she has seen.
The tips of her fingers are gently rubbing her warm moist pussy. She removes them quickly though, as Charlotte squirms, thinking that she might turn and see her. She is fascinated by the sight of a spanked naughty girl and her red bare bottom. A beautiful bottom too.
Charlotte can almost feel her gaze, “Oh, how bloody humiliating is this!” She thinks to herself.
Samantha is loving the sense of power, one word from her and it is another spanking for Charlotte. She studies the spanked bottom.
Charlotte knew she must not move, but could not resist a little peek to see what Samantha was doing.
“Ohhh!” Said Samantha, you have moved. “Mr.Jones said that if you move, then I have to tell him, and you will get spanked again, right hard! I might enjoy that!”
“No, no…please don’t tell him! It really really hurts!”
“It looks like it hurts Charlotte.” Commented Samantha. “I won’t tell him if you let me touch it.”
“Well? Can I? or shall I tell him you called me nasty names and threatened to hit me after school? He would cane you ever so hard if I did!!”
“Hmmm? I am waiting…push it out for me and do whatever I say. I can get you spanked whenever I want, Mr.Jones thinks the sun shines out of my arse. Now push it out!” She hissed nasitly.
Charlotte pushed her bottom out immediately, wiggling it for her, trying to please her, submissively. She obeyed the Head Girl’s command, and the Head Girl loved it. She began to fondle her bottom.
“Mmmmm lovely!” Said the head Girl. “Now I want you to be naughty again next week. And if you don’t I’ll tell such lies about you that you might even end up getting caned before the whole school!! I would have to hold you, I’d be right up close to your face as you squealed. So do as I say, or else!” She said spitefully.
I opened the door to find Charlotte perfectly in place. “Has she moved Samantha?”
“No Sir. She has remained just so.” Smiled my wonderful Head Girl.
“Good Girl Charlotte, it seems being in the company of an upright good natured girl like Samantha has had an effect on you. You would do well to try and emulate her, she is kind, and helpful. Not an ounce of nastiness in her. Now off you go.”
That was the moment that Charlotte began to think of how she could get revenge, and one day, if she got things right, she might be stood where Samantha is.
…After having carefully sat my well taught seat of learning on the cold flannels prepared by Linda, I wrote the letter for Pop, as ordered by Steve.
Dear Pop, I am very sorry to have been a naughty girl.
I didn’t mention how much I had enjoyed the shagging in a storeroom a
few yards away from the uni’s library. What a thrill it was!
I was well punished, and my bottom is still throbbing from a
good caning. I promise to be a good girl! Your Brenda and hugs for Mum.
Next, Linda applied after-spanking treatment to my well decorated
bum. She was very gentle, but I did wince a few times. Then she gave me a
pair of her silky knickers to replace mine, as I had wet them before my
punishment like a little girl. I was also finally allowed to pull my
skirt back on.
They invited me for dinner, and Steve kindly placed a pillow on my
chair. He also offered to help me with several aspects of business laws.
Next morning, I examined my derriere in the full length-mirror in my
bathroom. The neatly parallel cane lines were quite visible. They were
crimson or purple. I was relieved that none of them were blue. I got
what I deserved, no less and no more than a classic schoolgirl caning. I
giggled as I thought that it was administered with artistic precision!
Returning to the uni was going to be challenging. First was choosing
the right color of knickers. I selected an old pair of maroon cotton
knickers, to avoid too much contrast with my stripes. Next was the
skirt. I had little choice; I was told by Steve to always wear a short,
pleated schoolgirl-like skirt. They remind me of my O and A-levels back
in Edinburgh, when Pop had me wear similar skirts and kept me on the
straight and narrow with help from a tawse. I couldn’t do better than an
old school kilt, which was over an inch above my knees, as I had grown
up.
The bike ride wasn’t too comfy. I had to choose between riding high above the saddle and take a chance with a teasing wind exposing my chastised bottom, or keep my sore bum firmly on the saddle. I chose the latter option, but a few times when going down deserted alleys. I rode above the saddle. Phew! What a relief that was!
Harry was waiting for me at the bike-shed. He helped me lock my
bike, then he hugged me for a good morning kiss. It was fine, and I
responded enthusiastically, till he grabbed my bum with both hands. I
stoically refrained from jumping out of my knickers or whimpering, but
he soon clawed my bottom, as boys always do when they want to fill their
hands with girly curves.
I couldn’t help wriggling my derriere, and he immediately said, “You were spanked! Weren’t you?”
I blushed crimson, and that was enough for him to triumphantly say,
“I was right from the first day, when I saw you with that schoolgirl
skirt!”
I blushed the more when he asked to have a look. I first refused.
“Not in the bike-shed. Someone might see!”
He gave me another kiss without clawing my bum, and I surrendered. I
discreetly raised my skirt, praying that he would be the only one
seeing my streaked derriere.
“Whoa! That wasn’t a spanking! That was a caning, and a severe one. Let me count the strokes.”
I thought that he was too loud and shushed him before pulling down
the curtain on the show. I nonetheless satisfied his curiosity.
“It was eight strokes, and they were very stingy!”
“What for?”
“You remember the library?”
“Yes. Don’t tell me! You were identified and reported!”
“Yes! A letter was sent home.”
“Sigh. I am sorry!”
“No need! It takes two to tango.”
I didn’t mention the details of Steve having acted as loco parentis nor having wet my knickers.
“We have got to have a room. I don’t want to receive another caning!”
“Not to worry, Dolly. I have a place!”
After classes, I discovered his small apartment. It was a mess.
“This place hasn’t seen a girl for ages!”
He sadly nodded and hurriedly tidied up as he looked for Arnica gel.
“It’s recommended by my football club!”
He eventually found it and gallantly carried me to his bed. I was
soon skirt up and de-knickered. He gave my derriere a gentle massage,
and his hands strayed, and I didn’t protest.
One thing led to another, and we had great horizontal gymnastics with plenty of Ohs and Yes! and vigorous Hahan!
He also made sure that I was back home in time.
Brenda
To be continued…
Click here to read more stories and look at B’s blog…
…so there we were, deep in the heart of the Derbyshire countryside on a beautiful English Summers Day, music playing its strains through the air. All the ballet classics like Swan lake were there…playing on a loop.
It was quite simply…magical.
She began…
The Angel of the Rails started to dance…
She moved with elegant grace and poise, as one, with the music.
My muse changed like a butterfly from a caterpillar. From my dear friend and spanking model…to a ballerina. This was the first time I saw her thus, I was spellbound. How lucky I am to have shared this moment with her.
Then began the build up to my most successful ever photograph.
I placed a couple of planks on the the ballast, resting against a sleeper.
Charlotte knew my plans, we were prepared to make a little sequence, called ‘The Angel of the Rails’. The idea was that I would pick the best one and enter it into a rather prestigeous competition, ran by ‘The Arts Academy’. A World Wide Competition! Why not….lol….think BIG!!
She composed herself.
The day was still relaxed and fun, but this is why, photographically, we were here really. She turned…”Okay, I’m in the zone, lets do the sequence.” She said.
I waved to the signal box and the music from the nearby station’s tanoy system began to play our chosen music.
A selection of tunes drifted through the air, it was beautiful.
It was only a week s before naughty Charlotte was back in my Study.
She had been rude to one of my favourite members of staff, and upset her.
I gave her a severe reprimand and told her she was getting the cane on the bare. She went over to the flogging horse.
She made quite a sight, I have to admit that I am an admirer of the female form, and in my job I see plenty, in all shapes and sizes. But her bottom was a thing of outstanding beauty.
“Push yourself up Charlotte…”
She did so.
“And now hoist yourself right up. I want your bottom high.”
She complied to my instructions quietly and without fuss. Once again a sort of ‘mist of submission’, had descended over her. It was as if she was settling down to exactly where she wanted to be.
Up she got, her feet left the floor, her bottom was presented and ready.
I walked to my desk to pick up the cane. “I am giving you six of the best you naughty girl.”
At this news, she flinched, and kicked her legs.
Then I began to flog her bare buttocks…hard.
She squealed of course, but once again it was her look, the way she looked at me…it was as if she was trying to tell me something. I also noticed that she was bobbing up and down quite fast, almost grinding her midrift into the soft padding of the flogging horse.
“Ooooooooooooh!” She said after her scream, followed by…”Yes.”
She pumped her bottom up and down faster, and her groin pushed into the padding of the flogging bench deeper and deeper.
She squealed again…
“Yeeeeeeoooooooowwwwwww!….Ooooooh Mr Jones, thank you! Please Sir cane me harder, and faster….please Sir!”
I did, I picked up her rhythm and flogged her bottom mercilessly, her legs kicked, she squealed and squealed…..and her bottom bobbed like some mechanical part of an express train!
“Ohhh yes, yesss YESSSSSS! Thank you Sir….YESSSSS! YESSSSSS!!!!!”
I could hardly keep up, my arm was going up and down like a bee’s wing! The proverbial fiddler’s elbow!!! I could see what she was doing she pumped away until she came….her multiple orgasms and screams filled my Study, echoing from the walls, she spurted, it must have traveled a yard behind her, I had never seen anything like it!
At this stage, most girls beg me to stop, screaming and crying, shouting ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry!!”
But not Charlotte, she jumped off the vaulting horse and ran to me, then hugged me tightly! “Ohhhhhhh thank you Mr.Jones! That was the best orgasm ever!”
I am afraid I have tricked you, you see, she is not a school girl, she is my wife, she comes to my office after school every Friday! For her special treatment.
He did exactly what I wished for, he told her that he did not want her in the middle of the room, and that he was not going to put her in the corner. He told her that he had visitors coming in and she had to stay over the flogging horse, with her head up, so they could see her shame.
He moved the flogging horse right before me!!!
It was a wonderful view, I had somewhere else to hang the bucket and was worried people might see my huge bulge under my overalls. But up here I was safe. I saw the visitors come, and eventually saw her straighten her clothes and leave. My manhood settled, and I climbed down.
I have never felt so much like a fly on the wall in my life, thank God I do such a good job of all the old mullioned windows! A few month ago I would have hardly seen anything, but now, as I shuffled from side to side, on the plank, I could see every whack. I was so focused on her bottom that I hardly noticed him whacking her bare bottom with the plimsoll and then the cane. All I could see was her reddening bottom, and kicking legs!
And then I had the most extraordinary luck….and almost dropped my bucket!
