This is the first of my guest spanking photographers.
I am putting the enigma that is ‘Q’ first because of that reason….he or she is a mystery man or woman, like ‘Monseur X’, who you will find in my vintage section, with a long list of other artists, studios, and photographers etc….click here…
…Q said to me, by all means use my work, but my sex, my age and location must be ever kept a secret…
Q’s first story set : –
TO START WITH, THE PHOTOS ARE OF Q’S, THEN I WILL TAKE OVER TO FIT THE STORY. THE PHOTOS MIGHT NOT BE MINE, BUT OF COURSE, ALL THE WRITING IS…
THE CHEEKY CYCLIST…
By now you will know that I live in Derbyshire, a beautiful, typically English, rural county. To the west of my village is the famous rugged ‘Peak District’ to east is the collection of historic houses and their grand estates, called ‘The Dukeries’.
Where I live is an area of beautiful rural countryside, I walk it’s lanes and foot paths often. Here is one of my favourite spots, I have written to you many a time sat on an old toppled oak tree trunk, you can see me if you zoom in…I am stood by it.
The area is full of mystery and intrigue, from stone circles, to legends of witchcraft, and grizzly murders. Yet spiritual, and relaxing. I live very close to this next photo…
If you ever walk through the ancient woodlands near my house and come through the wrought iron gate on the left, you would see a pair of high metal gates. Press the button, say the password…’spanking’ and I will invite you in for tea and scones, with strawberry jam. If you are a young lady I might even spank you, if you were in the mood, and if not if you trespassed!
Relics of the past, like this old cottage, where there is no road…I bet it has only ever seen horses and carts! Is just down the lane from me…
Why am I telling you all this? Because of a bike, and a secret note, coupled with a rather beautiful young lady, with a cheeky, naughty, habit. Namely, riding her bike, taunting me, with her bare bottom!
You see, people in the village, well actually we are a group of six hamlets, know what I do. Some older ladies walk by, not making eye contact. Some of the younger ladies walk by with a cheeky knowing smile. But I should say I am regarded as the slightly odd older man, who paints, deals in antiques, enjoys his trains, and likes to smack young ladies bare bottoms. In other words, I am English!
But the trouble with people knowing is that if someone asks, they say…”Oh him? Yes duck, (we call strangers ‘duck’ around here) he lives up there, look for the big gates.”
So, my secret is out, and it led to this…
I don’t know her name, or where she is from, but the other day my intercom rang, and a young female voice, in excellent English said..”Hello Mr Jones, I love your work, and follow your blog. If you catch me, you can spank me, but you never will, I’ll be too fast for you! I have left you a note, come down and get it…I will wait for you.”
“Oh, how can I resist, I am on my way!” I replied putting my last piece of toast and marmalade in my mouth, and having my last swallow of excellent breakfast tea.”
Good Lord, what a surprise I got. I walked briskly with my stick and there before me was a sweet English rose, on her push bike, in school uniform!
I stood in a daze, she stood looking at me and said…”I knew you would look a bit like David Niven!” Then she walked casually away, her bottom wiggling and wobbling like my old boxer dog’s mouth with a treat!”
I was transfixed, stood in a stupid trance, my mouth open.
It was a week later when I got an invite in my post box to take the lane by our local pub, at noon tomorrow, it had an amusing name for years…’The Slap and Tickle’, but they have modernised it now and given it a new name. I had better not give that, it would be another way for young ladies to find me and tease me. “My word! Let me tell you this, that pert little bottom of hers will get such a spanking when…not if…WHEN…I catch her!”
I parked the car by the church, the old Inn is up a sort of cart track, a cycle track. I walked around the corner, she waved to me, and strutted off, pushing her bicycle! I ran after her, she giggled and rode away. People saw her and now think I am responsible. I suppose I am, but not how they think. I am sure they think it was a photo shoot.
Yes the brazen young girl walked by the public house, and up a path by my friend Ian’s house. His pipe nearly fell from his mouth!
I will keep you posted, but for now, that is all I know of the mystery cyclist!
The game is afoot! The chase is on! Tally Ho! I say!
Hello again. There have been developments….
This girl is getting bolder and her list of crimes gets bigger. The general opinion is that she really is a schoolgirl, from the neighbouring large town. They have a large sixth form college there. The most ‘Well-to-Do’ area borders on lovely countryside and has cycle tracks a plenty.
She has been seen spying on people. She has a blog where she writes about us village folk as if we are simpletons, from a by gone age. She likens herself to the Scarlet Pimpernel! ‘They seek me here, they seek me there, they seek the cyclist everywhere!’
I have looked at the blog and have to admit I have found it humerous and well written. She is obviously clever and articulate.
I left a comment…’The Scarlet Pimpernel eh? Listen young lady! You are now getting more than a little bit of a nuisance. We live in the countryside because we have worked hard and many of us in our twilight years need peace and quiet. We love nature, and have a lovely community. Try this…”The Scarlet Bottom!” Because my dear little spoiled brat, when, not if…but WHEN we find out who you are, we will…spank you here, spank you there, and spank your bare bottom everywhere! Now stop! You have been warned!”
She has left a reply.
Thank you bossy boots! I will not heed your warning, because the elusive cyclist you fear so much is the mistress of disguise and far to quick for wrinkly old fuddy duddys like you, as for my bottom, why not send it some love? So blow it a kiss, as I leave you in my wake Mr Jones, (yes, I know this is you, because you are so obvious….tell me, does everyone know what you do?) ….bye for now xx
Huh! Cheeky mare!
She was spotted, in a bush,watching a couple making love, and has posted a picture of them. They are not residents, just hikers from somewhere. But what if they were having an affair and someone sees them? Or if they are a young married couple with responsible jobs? She has written some very rude stuff about their methods!
My great experience of naughty girls over the years is that naughty school girl pranksters often get too big for their boots! Becoming over confident. Trying to be too clever. She is now waving to people and leaving a calling card!
My friend Ian was out walking the other day, he is a local historian and writes excellent walking pamphlets. He loves birds and does marvellous illustrated talks in our village hall, he has recorded many samples of bird calls and knows most type just by sound. He could hear a strange call and crept down this path, to find her bike up the path and her wiggling her bottom! “Tell Mr Jones you spotted this game bird on your walk!” She shouted.
He admits he found her lovely but he has angina, and says he had to sit down to recover. He watched her run away, After removing her knickers! and knew, that she knows very well, that on the footpaths and byways she uses, people like us will never catch her!
What a naughty girl!
She threw a calling card, which he picked up. Our first real evidence!
“She’s taunting us!” I said to Ian.
“No, I don’t think so, I believe she is taunting you Asa!” He said as he pointed to the blushing pink words….smack smack smack.
Do you know, I believe she is. I have eight of these now. The last was from a formidable woman who says my sordid life has brought this wicked girl to our village. Oh dear, it seems that in the Women’s Institute, and Mothers Union, my name is mud. I came here for solitude, but thanks to this naughty girl, I am being ostracised by the elderly ladies….oh dear.
I will update you again soon