That Skirt is Too Short Young Lady! |

It’s Saturday morning, Samantha, a shapely young teenager meets her friends in town for coffee and a smooch around some shops looking for trinkets. Whilst at the same time eyeing the boys, practising their walk, their smile, their flicker of eyes….etc etc whilst checking her wiggle in every shop window.

She walks, from the counter and stands drinking her coffee by the table with three friends, Kate, Charlotte and Stephanie. “What’s up? Are we not good enough today? Sit down! You are making the place look untidy!” Chuckles Stephanie.

Samantha blushes. “I can’t, I’ve got a sore bottom.”

It is 1968 and in those years, it was common that a naughty girl got a spanking. So the question was not why? But…”Oh dear, what did you do to get spanked?”

“I got two yesterday! One from Mr.Jones, in class before everyone. And he sent me home wth a letter, and Mummy gave me a right good walloping with her hairbrush.”

“Ooooh you must show us your bottom later, is it bruised?” Asks the ever curious and eager bottom viewer, Charlotte.

“Put it this way, I slept on my tummy and had breakfast stood by the mantelpiece, much to my snotty sister’s amusement!” Replies Sam.

“Tell us everything, in detail!” Begged Kate.

So Samantha told her tale…

“I suppose I had pulled my pleated skirt up a bit high, but it was double history and I sit in front of Bruce….phwarrrrr!”

The girls giggle.

“He didn’t think it was too short!”

“I bet he soon had his hand on his cock when he saw you!” Giggled Kate.

“I’d like it in mine! Ooooh I’d give him a right good wank.” Added Charlotte.

Stephanie made them laugh out loud when she said…”if he poked it through the ink well I’d fucking jump on it!”

People looked in their direction, so they calmed down, a little. “Carry on, tell us about your spanking.” Demanded Kate, eager to know all the details.

“Well…” Said Samantha, taking a deep breath. “Mr Jones to me to stand in the gangway between the desks. It appears I slouched so it was, stand up straight, the floor won’t speak for you, hands by your side, stop fidgeting. He reprimanded me, about my skirt being far too short, and that I should know the regulation length and stuff.”

“A funny thing is, I noticed the sun light coming through the Venetian blinds, and the radiators ticking away. It felt just like me and him, the class sort of disappeared. He told me to bend over and touch my toes. Thank God I do yoga I thought!”

The other girls giggled at her descriptive ways and the details. They loved her accounts of her spankings.

The audience of three had slightly different but essential the same image of Samantha’s bottom up high in her tightly stretched white school knickers.

“Then he just yanked my knickers right down! I …..well…I was moist, you know how the build up to a spanking gets you…”

They all nodded together, transfixed and dreamy.

“…and the cool air from somewhere blew up my tuppy, it made me feel so exposed!”

In a whisper, the others leaning in close, she continued. “I couldn’t help but think, as I waited for it to start. What was he feeling? I mean, I know I have a nice enough bottom, he’s a man, getting on a bit, but a man and they do say that an older man feels the same inside!”