The Conservatory Girl


Sometimes a delight.

Sometimes a pain in the arse!

More often than not, it’s a pain in theirs!

My dear daughter Charlotte for instance, most of the time she is the type of girl you want to show off to family and friends. A girl to be proud of. Funny, intelligent, polite and pretty. But at other times she just cannot help herself.  I sometimes ask myself if she gets in trouble on purpose, just to get the slipper!

Take the other day for instance. I left her in the house alone, with instructions to be a good girl, and tidy the house. fair enough, she had tidied up, the house looked lovely.


Behind our house live two teenage boys , both good looking boys, and a couple of doors away lives  this man, a Mr Jones, he is nice, a little odd at times, but always a gentleman. I have noticed that all three seem to spend a lot of time in the back bedrooms of their houses, almost as if they are looking into my conservatory.

Now in between the two afore mentioned houses is the epitomy of a ‘Mrs Busybody’! The type of woman who misses nothing. Mrs. Wimpole,  (yes the name suits her doesn’t it?!)

She has told me that my daughter exposes herself in the conservatory. Of course I told her not to be silly, but all the same, it would explain why the two boys and the man look wouldn’t it?

Anyway, I dismissed it as just being her causing trouble.

But alas, I was wrong.

It seems that after tidying up, naughty Charlotte had time on her hands. And as the saying goes…’the devil makes work for idle hands!’

It seems she wandered into the conservatory and saw the two boys and Mr Jones looking again.

It also seems that all three were there, waiting for what I know now to have been a regular show!

By all accounts she walked around in a provocative way, making it obvious she knew that they were looking.

Then! Can you believe it, she sits in the wicker chair and starts to masturbate! Taking her time and toying with them.

After talking to all concerned it appears she used a cushion to rub herself against whilst they looked. And don’t forget, she is in her school uniform!

Wiggling her bottom at them, both in her large white school knickers, and also without them!

I had no idea this was going on, of course. But who should decide to have a look out of the window? Mrs. Wimpole.

Without further ado she rings me as I am driving home, and tells me.

She even threatened to call the police!

I assured her that all was well and that I was only two minutes away. I was so angry!

I pulled up a little down the road, so as not to alert my naughty daughter and stormed up to the back door, and sure enough, there she was!

I could hear her moans as I approached, so I would not be at all surprised if my neighbours on both sides had been listening too. I was so embarrassed.

I stood in shock, I could hardly believe my eyes!

There she was, close to orgasm, rubbing the pillow with her pussy very hard and fast!

I stood for a few seconds and coughed loudly!

She turned in absolute shock. Obviously the two boys, Mr Jones, and Mrs. Wimpole could all see, and they all laughed uproariously as she was caught. Mrs Wimpole even clapped in delight!

To make matters worse, MUCH WORSE! she shouted…

“Oh fucking hell, it’s my Daddy!”

The laughter reached a new crescendo.

She started to pull her school panties up, in desperation, and some stupid idea of modesty!

I told her not to even think about doing so!

and called her over to me…

I sat down and gave her a good telling off, much louder than needed really, but I wanted them all to hear.

“Mrs Wimpole was right then, you come in here to masturbate before the two boys over there, and it seems Mr. Jones is not averse to having a look either! I am ashamed of you Charlotte.”

“I’m sorry Daddy.”

“Oh you will be! Come here!”

“If you want to show your bottom off to everyone, you can do, whilst you wait!”

“Wait for what Daddy?” Replied a very worried looking young Charlotte.

“A spanking! What do you think?”

Mrs Wimpole began to clap in delight again.

“Put your hands on your head, and show them what a naughty young silly girl you are.”

I continued to chastise her, and then told her to bend over.

She looked to the boys, then to Mr Jones, and heard Mrs Wimpole laugh and shout, “Make sure she does not sit down for a week!”

At which she bent right over, in submission to her fate.

“Right I am going for the slipper, you stay like that!”

The slipper is an old heavy leather one I use for spanking. I took a very long time fetching it too, so that she could feel some humiliation.

I returned and said…”Right then young lady, get over my knee!”

Nervously she did so.

I began with my hand on her bare upturned bottom. The smacks echoed in the conservatory, so too did her wails of anguish and pain. I did not start off at all lightly, this was meant to hurt and I spanked by hand until my palm hurt.

Then I took up the slipper and let her have it hard for a good ten minutes, during which she…

… squealed and begged for mercy, but I carried on relentlessly.

But I did not stop until her bottom was crimson.

In other words, she had what we call here in England, ‘A jolly good over the knee bare bottom spanking!”

She was sent to bed then, with no supper. In the morning when she left for school, news had spread fast on the street. I made her walk to school, and I imagine it was a very embarrassing journey!


Asa’s note…

…this story has run its course and will not be added to.

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