This is the continuation of a story written by ‘B’ and myself.

To see more of B’s work, click on ‘links and contributors’ above. Then click on ‘contributors’ and scroll down to her page.

I would like to mention the game she runs. A very well designed, and well run affair. If you like spanking or being spanked, but find it hard to do for real, then this is for you. They are looking for new players, especially teachers! There are lots of naughty girl players there, who want, need, and earn bare bottom spankings, canings etc

click here…

Uncle Redmoon part 3

The door with the brass knocker was opened by a tall smiling gentleman dressed with an elegant tweed suit. He had a warm voice and looked like a retired headmaster. I was reassured. As I noticed the old furniture, I picked up the scent of beeswax. I discovered his study, and a small classroom with a blackboard and a couple of desks.

He had me sit across his desk to sign my agreement for the “tartan rules”. I blushed redder and redder as he explained them.

“A blue tartan skirt for when you come here, a red tartan one for when you leave, and to wear the next day. This way, everyone will know you are coming for punishment, and also, know that you have been punished.”

I felt my cheeks glowing as I signed.

Next, he gave me a beautiful punishment book for recording my shortcomings, my grades and obviously the punishments I will be given. He opened it and I discovered my name written in superb copper plate. “This is your punishment book. Sign here…” He pointed to a dotted line below my name. “…to show that you understand and accept the rules.”

I flipped a few empty pages with dismay. I wondered if anyone had ever filled one. Then he had me read the first entry: ‘First Punishment – Bare bottom spanking over Uncle’s lap’.   He also had me write: “For having failed a test because of laziness.”  
I can’t say that I was surprised. Anna had told me about her first punishment.

“Now go behind that screen, and change into the uniform. Including school knickers and vest. In other words, strip completely naked, and just put on the clothes provided. Then come back and stand on the small stool to read your words. Then we will decide how many smacks, 20, 30, 40 etc. I always do multiples of ten…”

On the other side of the screen, my cheeks recovered their natural color until I pulled up the white cotton schoolgirl knickers and matching bra. With the white blouse and knee-high socks, I was again blushing. The red tartan kilt I will have to wear on the way home was short, as short as Mom would have allowed when I was a six former. I couldn’t imagine going back to the bank with such an attire. I tried to reason that Anna had twice worn that uniform, as well as the receptionist…

My reverie was interrupted. “Ready?”

I stepped from behind the screen with a glowing blush and tugged down my punishment skirt. I walked by the school desks, not daring to meet his gaze

“Stand on the small stool to read your words. Then we will decide how many smacks you deserve.”

I started to confess my sins in a shy whispering voice and was soon told to speak up and start over.

“I have been lazy. I hadn’t prepared enough for my test and flunked it. I guess that I deserve to be punished. It will, hopefully, teach me to better apply myself. The grades of my friend Anna have improved after each of her visits. I really want that certificate. I don’t want to be a bank teller all my life…”

He stood, quite solemnly, like a vicar about to read a painful sermon to a church full of sinners. He spoke calmly, in a gentle, unhurried way. I had no doubt that he was going to severely punish me, but I felt safe.   “Hmmm.” He pondered, and coughed, a short deep gravely cough. I listened while tugging my skirt as a schoolgirl about to be punished.
“Twenty hand spanks for laziness, and twenty more for not preparing your test. Plus ten with my trusty oak hairbrush spread over your lower cheeks and upper thighs. They will make you squeal and you will remember them when temptation comes knocking at your door…understood?” He asked.

Head bowed, I answered. “Yes Sir.”

He pulled out his captain chair, beautifully cared for, polished studded green leather and mahogany. He walked slowly to a huge cupboard. I could not see in. It was like a secret ceremony, unhurried and deliberate. I was quite transfixed, and in the strangest of ways, slightly amused by the seriousness of it all, and at the same time, enthralled by him, magnificent in his tweed, looking quite handsome for an old man. He took a very hard looking, oak hairbrush from the cupboard. He glanced at me, and I swear to this day that a diamond like glint flashed through his eyes.

He sat, like some kind old uncle about to give me a sweet, and read a story. I thought that he was going to invite me to sit on his knees. It was a silly thought he dispelled with, “Come here, stand to my right…here. Facing the school desk.” He pointed to the desk, and I stood facing away from him.d.

The only thing I could do was obey. Strangely though, I obeyed with a smile, and felt a slight eagerness knowing that I deserve to be punished.   Then he told me to raise my grey skirt, and I obeyed with a blush replacing my previous smile. Suddenly, he briskly lowered my knickers to my knees, and when I tried to cover my apricot with lowering my skirt, he gently added, “Please keep your skirt up.” I felt goose bumps over my lower cheeks while my upper ones glowed.  

“Turn around.” He told me.

B and Asa To be continued…