To read more stories from ‘B’ click on ‘links and contributors’ above, then click on ‘contributors’ and scroll down to her stories like this one. She also runs a fabulous on line spanking game, click here…

Uncle Redmoon’s Spanking Confessional part 1/2

I am Sophie, 18 years and from Paris, with my friend Denise also 18, we stepped off the Eurostar at Waterloo early Saturday morning. It isn’t our first visit to the UK. We have been on a few teenage exchange programs to improve our English. We are travelling light with overnight backpacks, and have dressed with jeans miniskirts to conquer Albion’s capital ! 
From Waterloo we took the Tube to our hotel in Soho, and were surprised by the number of girls wearing miniskirts. Denise giggled, “London invented the mini !”   From Piccadilly we entered the heart of Soho with Old Compton street. We weren’t too surprised to discover shops with black curtains. It is the neighborhood we weren’t allowed to visit as teenagers.

The hotel is an old Victorian mansion transformed into an hotel with big rooms and attached bathrooms with claw-foot bathtubs. After having left our backpacks in our room we had a spicy snack of chicken and rice curry at a street side stall, Denise philosophized, “In France its couscous, and in the UK its curry.”

We explored a fashion shop, and were quite surprised. The window was quite tame, once inside it was another story. We discovered maid outfits and adult school uniforms for ‘boys’ and ‘girls’.

We further explored and froze in front of short red tartan kilts. They reminded us of our last summer camp in the Lake District. Louise one of the English girls wearing a similar skirt was caned. We were quite jealous of that brazen girl who became the leader of the gang after her caning. As French girls we weren’t spanked, therefore we had to be content with being mere followers. We now feel that we would have had more fun if we had been treated like our British chums.

As I felt the woolly fabric of those kilts I mused, “I am still wondering how it would have felt to be caned as Louise…”

Denise decided that we should buy those kilts. I laughed, “We’ll sorta feel like Louise!” We also picked up pairs of white schoolgirl knickers and immediately changed. “Whoa! Its very short!” I tried to tug my skirt down and blushed as Denise teased me, “Ce sera pas le première fois que tu montres ta culotte!”

I was still blushing as we entered the Janus bookshop. We weren’t too interested in the glossy magazines, nor the pricey old French novels with ink drawings. The back room with the videos was ignored. We stopped a few seconds by a display of canes and discreetly fingered them. Denise teasingly whispered, “Imagine it applied to your bare butt.” I giggled and spotted a pile of flyers.

“Uncle Redmoon’s spanking Confessional
Have you been a naughty girl ?
Will you have the courage to own up ?”
There was an address down the street.

Once outside we sat at the terrace of a pub and ordered tall beers. We were both curious of that Uncle Redmoon, but we were shy to mention it to the other one. At the next table two girls our age were laughing and repeatedly pulling on their skirts in vain attempts to cover the wide red marks decorating the front of their thighs. They had obviously received a belting.

We had both noticed those two punished girls, and it was the trigger. We winked in unison, and Denise challenged, “If you’re game I am as well!” I answered with high five.

Five minutes later we were in front of the Uncle Redmoon’s spanking Confessional which was a Victorian row-house. “I have butterflies in my tummy!”   Denise shrugged and pushed the intercom. A male voice answered, “Please come in, the door is open, and wait in the lounge on your right…”

The decor was classy with wood paneling, antic furniture and Indian rugs. In the middle of a coffee table by the empty fireplace was a small wicker basket with a card reading, “For donations – No less than £20 per visitor!” While we waited we saw a girl about our age on her way out. With both hands she was rubbing her short skirt over her derriere. Her mini rode up and revealed reddened thighs. A tall gentleman in his fifties followed and admonished her, “Next time I won’t be so lenient !”   He was wearing an opened black academic gown over a grey tweed suit. We stood up when he turned towards us and questioned with a severe voice, “What is it this time?”

For a second we were taken aback, but we soon understood his act and Denise caught up. “The mice in the kitchen. It was us.” I remembered that prank at summer camp. The English girls knowing that we wouldn’t be spanked had convinced us to do the deed.

“I am the new Headmaster and the cook told me of that silliness.” He must have picked up Denise’s accent and added, “French girls are no longer exempt from punishment!”

He sat on a nearby chair and pulled Denise by an ear till she had no choice but to come across his knees. Her miniskirt was swiftly raised and her knickers lowered. She barely had time to say, “OH!” He gave her quite and spanking and also smacked her thighs. She pedaled and scissored her legs. I saw everything she has. Then he helped her up, “Keep your skirt up and watch your friend get her well deserved spanking!”

He grabbed my wrist and pulled me over his knees, yanked my mini kilt up and my knickers came down. I hastily closed my legs. He spanked my bottom and thighs till I shamelessly pedaled as much as Denise! “Go stand next to your accomplice, and keep your skirt up!”

It wasn’t our first spanking, our mothers had spanked us quite a few times. We gathered that it was only an appetizer when we saw him picking up a tawse from behind the door…

He frowned, and at the same time the sun went behind a curtain. The room suddenly looked, more serious, like his face. He turned his body to one side as he played with the tawse. He spoke, softly, yet commandingly.

“I had a friend once, many years ago, she was Romany, and did Tarot readings, and she told me that the most annoying thing was when silly girls came to ‘play’ at it. She would say to them that if they treat it like a party game, then they will get party game answers. It led to quite a few spiritual spankings.

‘We looked at each other, ‘what is he on about?’

We found out immediately.

“I treat this the same. You have had your silly little spanking game smacks on the bottom. It is very naughty of you to come here and treat it as entertainment. I AM SERIOUS ABOUT SPANKINGS AND …I …DO …NOT …PLAY!… You have wasted my time, I am not here for silly games. And neither are you. YOU ARE ABOUT TO FINDV OUT WHAT A REAL PUNISHMENT IS LIKE! NOW STAND UP STRAIGHT, HANDS BY YOUR SIDES, SHOW ME SOME DAMN RESPECT!!!”

Instantly they went silent, and stood to attention, trembling, and both had a tear welling up in their eyes.

More to come

B and Asa  

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