Part four of another lovely spanking story by ‘B’, one of my contributors who runs her own fabulous blog, see the links below, not only to her blog, but to a wonderful on line spanking role play game she runs. To see lots of other great stories by her on here, my blog, click on ‘Links and Contributors’ in the menu bar above, then click on ‘Contributors’ and then scroll down to her page…
…oooOOOooo…
Buxiban part 4
Back
home from my first day Mum of course asked how was school. I teasingly
answered, “I wasn’t spanked!” My humor was lost as she replied, “If you
work hard there’s no reason for you to be spanked!” I chimed, “Work and
no play makes a dull girl!” Having said that I ran upstairs to my room.
I
slumped on my bed, and hugged my teddy. Although eighteen I still have
my teddy. Two comments from that first day kept haunting me, “You will
be rejected if your average is bellow 10/20.” Pop and Mum would be
devastated… “If you have grades under 10/20 although you have reached
our overall average you will be punished…” The dilemma was simple,
first I don’t want to disappoint my parents, second its good grades or
be punished.
The
next two days were the tests. We are 70 and there’s only 3 classes of
20. We started with math, and it was more than multiple choice ! Three
hours in the morning, three hours in the afternoon. We were all very
quiet during the breaks and lunch. It was like, again taking our O
Level…
The
day after the tests finally came. Some of us were gathered in the
assembly hall. Miss Prim announced, “If you are here it means that you
have been admitted, congratulations.”
“Phew!”
“The top tier is assigned to the A class of Junior College level one.
Their
names were projected on a large screen. Next was JC1 B class, I read my
name and reread it ! I hadn’t made the top tier, but I did better than
the third one. I had also read the name of Emma, and those of our new
friends Lia and Isa.
“You are now to join your classes…”
As
were entered our classroom we discovered a sitting plan written on the
blackboard and another stern looking lady. This time it was an Asian
one. “I am Miss Yew, weaker pupils were assigned front row seats…” I
smiled as I discovered that I was in the middle with my friends.
“We are first going to review your grades. Amelia please stand…”
I blushed as I stood, then I smiled wider and wider as I heard,
“You have achieved the three best grades of the class with 16, 17 and 18/20…”
I no longer smiled when she added, “Unfortunately you are the only pupil to have two grades under 10/20. You will be punished.”
Those words, “You will be punished.” echoed again and again…
“Come to the front of the class…”
I
went to the front of the class as slowly as I could. I stopped in front
of her professorial platform. She stood, pulled her chair in front of
her desk, and took a leather paddle with a smiley face from her drawer. I
didn’t smile! Then she grabbed my ear, and with one swift move she
pulled me up onto the platform and across her knees.
I wasn’t too surprised when she pulled up my skirt. Then she grasped my knickers, and I reached back. “Please don’t !”
“Young
lady it is a shame to have two grades below 10/20 and you will receive a
shameful bare bottom spanking in front of your class !” Having said that she yanked my knickers down to my knees. I felt a hot flush and knew that I was blushing as red as a tomato.
SMACK! I felt a sting as fiery as the registrar’s ruler. I responded with a distressed OUCH!.
Then it was four smacks for my bum and two for my upper thighs. That
pattern was repeated over and over again. I bawled and stomped my feet
and tried to protect my burning bottom. She grabbed both my wrists and
held them behind my back, and continued.
I
pedaled my legs when she smacked my thighs, and she commented,
“Obviously your parents haven’t spanked you enough !” I heard a few
giggles. I guessed that Asian girls were laughing for that Anglo who has
never received a real spanking. I felt tears…
I was stood up and both my hands flew for frantic rubbing. One of my wrists was grabbed and I was back across her knees. She said, “You are not to rub ! You are to hold your skirt up to show your red bottom to the class.” I got a flurry of sharp smacks. When again standing I shamefully kept my skirt up. “Go and press your nose on the blackboard !”
I was sniffling. I felt as a well punished silly schoolgirl, and desperately wanted to rub my throbbing bum.
Next was Emma. She was as loud as me. She got the same giggling from the Asian girls. She hadn’t rubbed, and joined me.
After
Jenny who was another loud Anglo it was our friend Lia. We didn’t hear
more than a few Ohs and Ahs towards the end of her spanking. Eight girls
were spanked…
I took this recently, (It’s for the Mrs.Walter’s Story) and as I did I spotted the position of Kate’s beautifully trimmed bush, so I adjusted her to get her dark hair on a light background….
Suzette the naughty maid had just been discovered masturbating as she hid, watching the three women enjoy a spanking session. The only plan she could think of was ‘Flight’, so she ran quickly through the door. What exactly she hoped to achieve was difficult to imagine, perhaps she thought a delay might lessen her punishment?
The three women, Samantha, Kate and Charlotte were not only shocked to find a peeping tom, but also very angry. The Mistress of all of them, Samantha said “She is going to pay for this, lets arm ourselves and go and hunt her down!”
“What is she hoping to achieve by running off?” Asked Kate as they went to the punishment drawer
“I don’t know?” Replied a chuckling Charlotte.
“I know what she will achieve by it, a damn good spanking from the three of us!” Samantha added as they sped along the lounge.
Encouraged by that remark, the three strode determinedly to choose their weapons!
Oh dear, it seems there is a storm heading it’s wa to naught Suzette’s bottom!
The punishment of the boy was over, it was time to fill in the Punishment Book. They stood him by their side as they did so, many knowing smiles and glances to his welted bottom took place. The had thoroughly enjoyed thrashing a boy for a change.
His bottom was ablaze, and getting redder by the minute, he was sniffing and wriggling, it was only a matter of time before he was tempted to rub it.
Wagging her finger at him she shouted….”How dare you? You naughty boy, if ever, …EVER, you do that again without permission you will have your punishment all over again…understand!?!?”
“Yes Miss, sorry Miss” Was his instant reply.
They put him in the corner, red bare bottom on show. It was not long before visitors began arriving, the Postman, the School Secretary, and around five different girls. News spread around the school, like the wild fire in his bottom.
They had their Secretary bring in a pot of tea and three cups, and sat doing school business. The secretary, could hardly concentrate, especially when Miss Kenworthy gave the naughty boy permission to rub, one cheek at a time, keeping the other hand on his head.
She found the sight of a whimpering boy, caressing his bare red bottom, very erotic.
The three women all smiled at each other knowingly. The secretary went, and the change of class bell rang, which meant that the corridors would once again be full of girls, and that at that precise moment, the boy and his red bottom would be hotter gossip than ‘ well caned bottom hot’…
Miss Kenworthy gave a warning. “You may now rub with both hands before you leave, but if ever you are very naughty, you will be sent back to class with your freshly punished bottom, hands on head, and your shorts and pants left on my desk to collect later…..and the had better be spotless. It will also be at ‘bell time’, so be warned young man, if your hands come off your head, and you are reported, you will be found, and pulled by the ear to the main hall, and caned naked, before the whole school!”
His manhood rose, at the thought, and he rubbed his bottom gently.
The two women saw his jacket shoot up, and glimpsed his manhood rise quickly. They smiled broadly at each other, what fun they had in store.
More to come, in part two, where the naught boy is punished before the girls in class.
So….continuing on with my black and white, here is another for the ‘Saint Helena High School for Wayward Girls’, Incident Log…
Incident Number 3 ~ The Detention Room Debacle
Three of the usual suspects, Charlotte, Kate, and Stephanie had been put on report for a variety of small offences, and at a staff meeting it was decided that an afternoon’s hard work in the Detention Room, running through to an hours staying behind, on a Friday afternoon might teach them a lesson.
So extra work was arranged for them, and seeing as it is only down the corridor from me, I agreed to supervise them. I set them going, left them working, with the door open. I left my study door open and told them in no uncertain terms that any noise would not be tolerated.
I settled down to do some invoices and accounts, peace reigned, I was almost, slightly impressed by their behavior.
Then the whispering began, and at my distance, I did not hear a thing, just the tip of my Parker Fountain Pen scratching at the ledger, and the ticking of my ‘Smiths’ oak, classroom clock. It was quite comforting,
more to come…
I will try to finish each part with a colour one for you…
This is a colossal section, and she has been very busy for us once again. Her ‘Spanking Library’ in her Georgian House is a spectacular sight, and one day ought to be open to the public. There is no wonder she is such an aficionado of the Spanking Genre.
It is not a small room, and one wall is full of antique wooden shelves, full to bursting with spanking magazines. Her favourite of all is ‘Roue‘…
Quote from a Wikipedia article…
Roue magazine, once described as the ‘Rolls Royce’ of spanking magazines, established an international reputation for style and content. The 1970s and ’80s, often described as the Golden era of British spanking, saw Roue and its rival publications Janus & Blushes dominate British spanking in this time. Roue closed in the late ’80s.
2005 saw the Roue title relaunch in the summer with a new magazine, DVD label and historic party including some of the most famous names in the UK spanking scene. The first DVD production entitled ‘The English Headmaster’, Directored and Produced by – Jason Mullord, it starred international spanking stars Martina Stepanova and Sarah Collins and became an overnight success. Other new DVD titles followed but the company remastered the classic ’70s and ’80s films and formed a new label ‘Classic Roue’ building a very loyal following.
This is our tribute to Roue, I hope to work alongside the article, bringing drawings and paintings to life through photography….Thank you Roue, we needed you then, and we need you is some form now. We hope we can do you justice. This is a colossal project…thank you for the inspiration.
To show you the style of this set, we will start with a look at Uncles…
These next few pages comprise the first of an intended series of little ‘galleries’, in which the work of several ‘spanking illustrators’ will be given an airing (like the bottoms of their nubile subjects), and this initial article concerns School Discipline as portrayed by one such artist.
With ‘instant imagery’ monopolising the media these days, one might be tempted to dismiss drawings and paintings as being ‘second best’, but I hope to show that on the contrary, illustrations which have taken considerable time and patience to produce frequently have much more to say, and are very much more evocative, than any photograph could be.
Undertaking even a small series of drawings such as are reproduced here can be no mere whim. Time and effort must be expended, and the results, to be satisfactory to the artist, have to achieve a fair representation of what he had in his mind in the first place, and by the same token his original conception must have included ingredients; a subject, an idea, a mood, an atmosphere, worthy of the care which needs to be lavished upon this first conception to bring it to a certain degree of actuality.
A careful look at these illustrations then can supply more information than may be first evident; a thoughtful examination sets us off on a journey of discovery through the artist’s mind, and indeed supplies us with an intimate insight into the situation and the characters which are the expression of the artist’s idea on paper. If this idea sparks off new ideas of our own we are the richer. How many ‘instant image’ photographs could have done the same so effectively?
This series of three drawings deals with a simple situation, the sixth-former who has been silly enough to earn herself a punishment in the Head’s study. It is to be a knickers-down tawsing, as she well knows, and at first glance it is not a format which offers any particularly exciting prospects to the artist, being quite straightforward and incapable of much embellishment.
And yet, faced with the task of illustrating such an ‘ordinary’ situation, the artist has used its very ordinariness to make all the important points. Drama is introduced, not by wild and sweeping statements, but by utilising the formality of the occasion to bring the tension of each movement into the action.
Detail there is, but none of it irrelevant, and the orderliness of the figures, the neatness of dress of both the girl and the man, is complemented by the finicky precision of the arrangement of the school trophies on the Headmaster’s mantelpiece, the regularity of the books in the bookcase, the care with which the tawse has been placed on the little table, and even the girl’s lowered knickers are tucked fastidiously around her thighs, not allowed to straggle at her ankles.
Formality is everywhere. The anxious girl stands with her feet neatly together, her hands behind her back, the pleats of her skirt carefully pressed and her tie perfectly straight. The Headmaster’s black suit is exactly right, and the two figures are linked together by the rectangular tension of the tiled fireplace. The tawse is placed exactly between the two figures, balancing authority on the one hand against obedience on the other.
Everything about these three drawings tells us that the Headmaster runs a tight ship with a disciplinarian’s attention to detail. We have no doubt that every other girl in the school will be as neat and tidy as the unfortunate sixteen-year-old whose comeuppance is at hand.
It is no surprise that she holds her gymslip up to her waist while her knickers are taken down — with a disciplinarian headmaster this obviously won’t be the first time that her young bottom has felt the sting of the tawse, and there can be no doubt that the Headmaster wouldn’t tolerate anything but absolute obedience — the idea of doing anything other than exactly what she is told simply wouldn’t enter this girl’s head. What matter that she thinks herself too old to be half-undressed by the Headmaster. What matter that the taking down of her school knickers is obviously a situation which the Headmaster thoroughly relishes. She knows better than to argue. She can only avert her eyes while she clings on to her gymslip and dreads the coming punishment.
The tawsing, when the Headmaster eventually gets round to it, is as well-ordered and formal as everything else. The girl lies across his lap without the need for her legs to be clamped between the Headmaster’s own, and the hand on her back is no more than a reminder not to wriggle so much that the tawse can’t accomplish its job on her bared bottom. Somehow supressing the urge to squirm off his lap and away from the smacking, stinging tawse, the girl bawls lustily as she is spanked with methodical strokes on her plump, vulnerable bum, pressing her knees together as she tries not to kick too violently. Even the tawse-marks on her bottom flourish in neat, two-tailed pairs, first on one trembling cheek and then the other. And the weals where the leather tawse has strayed to the backs of her thighs? From what the artist has told us about the Headmaster by his precise, meticulous draughtsmanship, we can be quite certain that the tawse didn’t land on her plump legs by accident. The Headmaster wouldn’t be so clumsy. There is no doubt that he spanked those reddening marks with deliberate care, just as he is now overlapping the first smarting weals with another crop of tawse-marks, knowing precisely what he is doing and fully in command, as we always knew he was.
Armed with the information so thoughtfully supplied in these drawings, reconstructing the unlucky sixth-former’s interview with her pedantic headmaster is simplicity itself…
THE HEADMASTER’S STUDY
The coal fire flickering in the grate is hot on the bareness of her legs below her short gymslip, and the warmth edges up under the skirt and around the snug fit of her school knickers. The warmed air finds its way between her legs and the backs of her knees feel as though they are burning. Surreptitiously the girl moves sideways away from the fire’s direct heat, her eyes never leaving the balding head which is bent over the desk, pen scratching fitfully in an exercise book. The pen is placed neatly on the desk and another pen is substituted, dipping into the red ink bottle and then scrawling across the paper. She knows what it is writing. ‘See me.’ The only time old Beaky uses red ink is to write those two dreaded words in exercise books. Red for danger. Red for smacked bottoms! Red, like hers is going to be!
‘Don’t fidget girl!’
‘N-no sir.’
The fire isn’t so hot on her legs any more but the skin is still burning up the backs of her thighs. Like the sizzling sting in your bum after you’ve had the strap. She shivers despite the warmth of the fire. Like her bum is going to feel before too long.
‘Now then —’
She starts, the Headmaster’s sharp voice making the panic thrill through her. She watches with anxious eyes as the tall, slim figure stalks round from behind the desk. From a glass-fronted cupboard he takes a short, shiny leather strap, divided for half its length into two flexible tails which swing independently as he comes over to her by the fireplace. He stands directly in front of her, his eyes bright over the tops of his half-frame spectacles, the tawse stroking obscenely between his slim fingers.
‘Does your form mistress know that you are here girl?’
‘Yes sir.’
‘Does she know why?’
‘Y-yes sir.’
‘Do you know why?’
‘Yes sir — to b-be punished, sir.’
‘Yes — quite so.’ The leather tails smack quietly into his palm. The girl wrings her hands behind her back and tries not to let her young breasts push out so provocatively under her grey gymslip.
‘You’ve made yourself comfortable?’
‘Yes sir.’ She has been to the loo three times in the last hour. The prospect of getting her bum tanned always seems to do that to her.
‘Right —’
She follows obediently behind him as he goes to the chair beside the bookcase. Sitting down he beckons her close.
‘Clean knickers?’
‘Y-yes sir.’ She knows the drill well enough. She ought to, never a term goes by without she pays at least one visit to this little room and never a visit ends without tears.
‘Let me see ‘em then.’
It is always the same. The sheer humiliation of having to do it is almost worse than the whacking itself. The plump swell at the apex of her thighs peeps timidly from under the hem of her reluctantly raised skirt.
‘Come on, get it up!’
‘Y-yes sir —’
The well-filled schoolgirl knickers claim all of the Headmaster’s attention. She hoists her skirt up until the lower edge of her blouse appears below the waistband of her gymslip. The Headmaster mutters between his thin lips as his eyes peer lasciviously over his glasses.
‘You’re getting to be a big girl, aren’t you, eh?’
‘Y-yes sir —’
Cool fingers hook under the elastic of her pants and draw them down over the maturing roundness of her hips. She shivers at the touch and looks away, not wanting to see the gleam in the Head’s eyes. Her firm young bottom trembles as it is patted familiarly, and then a hand slipping between her legs nudges her over the Headmaster’s knees, her soft belly pressing down on the bony legs, thighs pressing together against the intrusion of his insulting fingers. She arranges herself as she has learned to do on other occasions, legs straight, bottom up nice and high, knees together and head down.
The Headmaster settles the girl across his knees, runs a hand over the smoothness of the plump cheeks, smacks them lightly and hears her nervous gasps as he teases her bum with more playful smacks, then with deliberate and ritualistic pedantry he makes her recite the reason for her imminent spanking while he takes the tawse and strokes its cold leathery-ness to and fro over the warm vibrancy of its naked target.
‘S-sir — I’ve been a bad girl sir — I’ve been rude to Miss Davies sir — and b-bad girls have to be punished sir —’
‘Quite so my girl, quite so.’ The tawse smacks wickedly down across the tremulously waiting cheeks.
‘Oooh —’ The girl’s hips worm temptingly across his lap. Another soft swooshing sound heralds the sharp Crack! of the second stroke, which makes the frightened sixth-former twitch her cheeks together and gasp breathlessly as the smart stings her bottom and makes her pink bum-cheeks bounce delightfully.
Tears start from under her eyelids as the third and fourth strokes curl across the bareness of her buttocks. She pants rapidly, trying not to cry.
Whack!!
‘Ooo — s-sir —’
‘Quiet girl —’
Thwack!!
‘Oow —’
Smack!!
She starts to sob, stifling the sound as well as she can until the next two bum-scorching strokes make the effort not to blubber too much. She splutters into tears. The strap descends with regular ‘Splatts!,’ the reddening tail-marks flooding hotly across the round curves of her bum and striping the freshening glow with precise and evenly-spaced pairs of tawse-marks.
Still the girl manages to maintain the prescribed position, bum still offered obediently up to the wicked strap, legs straight, knees and feet together, afraid to struggle against the inevitable for fear that she’ll make it worse for herself, little-knowing that her attempt at stoicism is prolonging her ordeal.
With the tawse going at a regular rhythm the Headmaster watches for the signs. Years of experience tells him exactly what effect the spanking is having on the girl. He knows that her sobbing is becoming less controlled, can feel the quick little snatches and jerks of her body which betray the effort she is having to put into keeping still, and he knows too that a couple of really good stingers will break her tenuous self-control. But he resists the temptation. He spanks her with precisely the right amount of crispness exactly the right snap of the wrist, to keep her hovering on the brink of losing control without pushing her over the edge. Her well-tanned bottom is wriggling spasmodically now, her hips bouncing with every stroke of the tawse, her knees beginning to bend as the strap works its way back over the tenderness of the first strokes. She gasps tearfully, swerves her stinging bottom desperately, and then she loses her grip.
As she starts to squirm with a new and abandoned liveliness, the Headmaster raises his striking rate and lets her have the last half-dozen with all the gusto he can manage. She struggles helplessly, rearing up with each whack and bawling at the top of her voice, squealing completely without control an instant after each of the last few strokes lands squarely and agonisingly across the quivering tenderness of her glowing cheeks.
Even when the tawse has been replaced neatly on the table, the girl still wriggles weepingly over her Headmaster’s knees, self-discipline gone and all pretence of grown-up-ness evaporated. She might be a sixth-former or a first-former as she cries wretchedly with her bare and punished bottom still twitching.
The tawse, its reputation intact, lies smugly once again on the little table and awaits its next victim.
This section has inspired me to spend money, I have purchased, gym slips, belts, tags, blouses, ties, suspender belts and seamed stockings. I am arranging shoots now.
On my sister site…http://asa-jones.pixels.com I have over a thousand photos and it is growing rapidly. A lot are duplicates from here, but because I can put better quality there, it means I do not have to crop, like on here, so most of them look a little different.
It is my shop, where I sell my art. But it is free to view. The advantage to the person who is not bothered about a lot of reading, is that they are all there….page after page, just to click on. They are also categorised, so as well as ‘Sets’, ‘Fantasy Study’, etc etc (17 collections in total), there is also ‘In Praise of Charlotte’, ‘In Praise of Kate’, and ‘In Praise of Samantha’ and from today, there is…
