To read the rest, click here…

…https://www.spanking-emporium.co.uk/spanking-emporium/?p=40558

…oooOOOooo…

Education

From Roue 12

Education, as we have said before in this series of articles, supplies the artist with endless opportunities to depict scenes of a disciplinary nature, and with the confidence of knowing that in an educational scenario there will be a credibility factor perhaps lacking in other situations. This is particularly true of scenes which have an historical flavour, as in the drawings in this Spankers Gallery.

Should any reader wish to contribute material for publication in forthcoming ‘Gallerys’, such contributions, preferably with a short note outlining the supposed circumstances which the illustration is intended to represent, would be gratefully received.

In this drawing the artist has left no doubt as to the nature of the punishments administered by this gentleman. He wields the cane with an expert arm, and a certain knowledge of just how to cane for maximum pleasure in whipping tender feminine bottoms into gyrating swerves of stinging cane weals. He likes to hear ‘em squeal, and squeal they most certainly do! Not for him the finesse of a carefully applied caning, strokes spaced out across the cheeks to ensure an overall stripy glow, timed to let the girl find what scraps of composure she still has left. No indeed! Get ‘em in, get ‘em stripped off and thrash their little bums — never mind that this girl only dropped a pencil in assembly, while the next one was found down in the village with the louts from the marketplace — a bare bum’s a bare bum, and fair game for the cane.

Asa’s Note…

I have covered chairs in many ways…

Groups

From Roué 23

The Gallery, back again in this issue, concerns itself this time with a particular theme; girls punished in groups.

Illustrators interested in the punished female sit-upon frequently depict their girls in situations where several stages of a disciplinary encounter can be shown in the same drawing. The illustration which we have included this time where the girl is being tugged by her shorts through a doorway makes this point very well. Though she herself is yet to be punished, the probable outcome of her interview with the person utilising the cane in that novel way is not in doubt. There in the middle distance is, in effect, another picture of the self-same girl as she will be when the cane has done its work. Every picture therefore can indeed tell a story, and doesn’t necessarily fail in this objective by leaving out the actual application of the disciplinary instrument to the girl’s bottom.

The other drawings in this section approach the matter in another way, leaving the reader to invent his own scenario to fit in with the picture. Those little stories which we have appended to these drawings are therefore no more than one person’s suppositions, and the reader is of course free to invent his own atmosphere within which the girls and their situations can come to life for him.

Detention Room

Two punished bums, an unoccupied stool, and a blonde-haired girl parked in a corner. Is she pulling her knickers up, we wonder, or is she pushing them down? From the look of anguished suspense on the face of the girl with the big eyes, whatever has been going on is still not concluded, and from the angle of her hands and elbows that one in the corner surely is pushing her pants down, isn’t she? The other girls have already had part of their punishment; probably not all of it, or they wouldn’t still be spread-eagled across their stools with their knickers hauled up so nicely, but it’s that girl over in the corner who’s the enigma. She doesn’t look to have been punished at all; one wonders what she’s being saved for. Although she is having to take her pants down now — it would seem that whatever the drama which is about to be enacted here, we have arrived just at the point when all is about to be revealed, though not to us unfortunately.

Eight pairs of eyes followed the woman as she paced around the room. She shook her head and stopped beside her desk. Looking up, she addressed the throng.

‘I just cannot understand it,’ she said. ‘Blowing up the school lab is bad enough but to choose to do it today — today of all days. I’ll never live it down — never!’

The time was indeed somewhat inconvenient for the terrors of 6B1 to try out their latest — and most catastrophic — chemical experiment, for Uplands School for Young Ladies had that day played host to none other than His Royal Highness Sheik Khaleb whose daughter, it was hoped, would be joining their number in the new term.

The Royal personage had been quite impressed with what he had seen and had just sat down with the Headmistress, Mrs Wolf, when the explosion rang out. He ran along the corridor with Mrs Wolf and sundry other teachers to discover the blitzed laboratory. No-one had been injured but it was obvious that it would cost thousands to repair the damage.

Mrs Wolf apologised over and over again to her distinguished visitor but it was clear that he was far from pleased with what he had witnessed. Bidding the woman goodbye, he said he’d let her know about whether his daughter would be attending the school and left in a flurry of robes.

Mrs Wolf was certain what form his decision would take — there would be no Sheik’s daughter joining Uplands in the new term and it was all down to the eight little wretches of 6B1 who sat nervously before her in the detention room.

‘Mr Partridge left you for just ten minutes — ten minutes! And just look at the havoc you caused,’ she stormed, setting off on a head-shaking walk around the desk. ‘Well, there is nothing else for it — you must all be punished. At least if I can assure His Highness that you have all been severely dealt with he may have second thoughts — I doubt it, but he may. At any rate, punished you shall be and, let me say, punished as never before. All of you choose a separate desk, take off your skirts and bend over.’

There was much scraping of chair legs and muttering as the eight complied with Mrs Wolf’s wishes. Within a couple of moments eight navy-blue-knicker-clad bottoms were presented to the redoubtable Headmistress who had by now extracted from a drawer of the desk twelve inches of brown leather.

‘Knickers up nice and tight,’ she thundered and the eight reached behind and tugged at the waistbands of their respective garments.

The woman was standing at the side of the girl who was to be the first to taste ‘Wolf’s Whacker’.

‘Let this be a lesson to you, Angela Freeman,’ she said and held aloft the wicked tawse.

It fell with a swoosh and lashed across the tight seat of the girl’s pants. Angela gasped as indeed she gasped after each of her six strokes. She was ordered to remain in position as the next girl was approached.

‘Jacqueline Yates — your turn. Now stick that bottom out!’ came the command as again the strap was raised. Jacqueline was yelling after only the second stroke and by the time she had received her full quota was weeping copiously.

‘Janet Ball; six for you.’ And the strap wrapped itself around the large behind of the tubbiest girl present. Her fat cheeks wobbled, her large hips swayed as the six strokes were administered to her rear-end.

‘Only two days since Miss Harding had to give you a spanking, isn’t it, Sonia,’ she said as she moved along the line to the next girl. ‘Well, this will hurt somewhat more than that, I can tell you.’ The leather tawse thrashed down onto the girl’s bottom, leaving her gasping for air and stifling cries of pain.

‘Helen Thomas; I thought I told you to get these knickers up tight,’ said the Head as she tugged at the waistband so that the base of the girl’s cheeks were bared. Mrs Wolf made sure that four of the strokes that this girl felt landed on that denuded area — an act that brought forth high-pitched screams from the unfortunate young lady.

‘Do I detect a bit of cheating here, Miranda Fuller? Mrs Wolf asked as she reached the next girl. ‘Two pairs of knickers, eh? No doubt you feel the cold more than most. We’ll have them both down, Miranda, so that you can feel the heat more than most. Come on girl — jump to it!’

Asa’s note:-

I have covered many groups…and detention rooms…

continued….

Miranda knew that any protests would serve only to exacerbate the situation and within the minute was bending again over the desk with her plump bottom bared awaiting its thrashing — and what a thrashing! Mrs Wolf laid the strokes across the girl’s naked buttocks with all her might and, amidst her wailing and pleas for mercy, Miranda made a mental note to ignore the suggestion of one Teresa White of Form 5A2.

‘Bottom out, Lesley Bugden,’ came the order as the Head moved on to the penultimate culprit and the strap swooshed down its half-a-dozen times onto the thinly-covered bottom.

‘And last but not least,’ announced Mrs Wolfe, ‘we have Julie Howard. Something of a regular customer, aren’t we, Julie. I wouldn’t mind betting that you instigated the little bit of fun in the lab. No? Well, nevertheless it’s six for you so hold onto that desk-top firmly, young lady. This is going to hurt you more than it’ll hurt me!’ The strokes rang out and Julie, for all her experience of being on the receiving end of ‘Wolf’s Whacker’, yelled her pretty little head off.

‘Right,’ the Head began as she resumed her position at the desk at the front of the room. ‘I want you all as Miss Fuller is — that’s right, knickers down — and be quick about it. Let’s see how much damage my strap has done.’

Eight bare bottoms were now on view as Mrs Wolf strode down the aisles inspecting the glowing

cheeks.

‘Hmmmm — yes, very good. I think you all felt that. Er, Janet and Helen — what are you doing? Did I tell you to pull your knickers back up? Well?’

‘Er, no, Mrs Wolf. It’s just that…’

‘Yes, Helen — I’m waiting.’

‘Well, it’s just that… w-we th-thought you’d f -finished with us.’

‘Finished? Come come — you know me better than that, don’t you? Finished! — I’ve only just begun,’ she announced as from the confines of a drawer she produced a long, slender cane. ‘We’ll have those knickers right down and all of you right over those desks — and stop that chatting. Surely no-one believed that I was going to let you off with a half-a-dozen whacks with the strap, did you? Now, bottoms right out, girls…’

more to come…

Asa