Saint Helena High School for Wayward Girls – Chapter One

 

 

Imagine a place in the universe, almost the same as here, almost. With one wonderful difference. Spanking!

Spanking is a world wide practice in this world, to keep naughty women in line. The judicial system everywhere is pretty much the same as our world, but, at the first offence, to avoid a criminal record, a woman of any age, is offered the chance to attend a special school. A school where corporal punishment in all its guises, is used at the discretion of the School Head, and staff, for as long as their ‘sentence’ is in force.

Quite simply, they have to agree to having their bottoms disciplined.

One such school is Saint Helena High School for Wayward Girls. I am the Headmaster. My name is Mr Jones, Mr Asa Jones. I have been here for five years, things are going well, but it is time for a change.  However, before I tell you of the change, let me show you how it is now.

After applying for my school to be a ‘Correctional School’ things grew slowly. At first I mixed the girls on remand with the ‘normal’ girls who found it rather good fun to get these girls into trouble on purpose. This was unacceptable to me, so I took the brave step, just over four and a half years ago, to accept only the girls sent to me by the courts.

I had much to learn. My reputation of being a strict disciplinarian had got me the job, and it stood me in good stead. But the importance of subtle things, like putting a girl back in school uniform, and how it had a profound effect on a naughty young woman. Was something to be learned through experience and guidance. The Board armed me with guide notes and equipment.

We had annual checks. It was tough, but but I stuck at it. But after three years I gained my first ‘Excellent’ rating.

All the teachers in my school were female, and all had their own cane. Discipline ruled. Delinquents came in, and young ladies went out. Only when deemed fit, and after approval by the ‘Board of Remand Schools’.

I ran the school financially and was pretty much like Headmasters of any typical school. However, I kept myself aloof, a figure to be scared of, a man to respect. If you came to my office, you left with a sore bottom.

One girl from those early years, always comes to mind readily, when thinking of a punished bare bottom. Her name was Kate.

I devised something I called the ‘mirror of shame’, the idea being that if a girl saw herself being punished and stood in corner time before it, it would add humiliation to her spanking. Especially as I had many visitors, from the post man, to my secretary, to the town mayor. All sorts of people. If a girl was stood before the mirror, they would stay throughout my meeting.

But, through Kate I saw that some girls saw a spell at my school as something to enjoy. The plan never took in to account the fact that some girls were natural submissives, who needed a spanking and more. Kate was one, and they were my favourite naughty girls, they would return time and time again.

After her first spanking, which you can see here, her entrances into my office annex, slowly became bolder.

Her uniform was often worn provocatively, and this was her most common reason for being sent to me. Each time I punished her, I told her to get it corrected. To be honest, she was a joy to spank!

 

I had an array of apparatus as you will see over the next few sequences. But all ended up with a session before the mirror. I remember on this particular instance that the postman came in, and left with his face redder than her bottom! The poor young man, I could tell he wanted to stare, but politely, he  just glanced.

And so it went on, both submissive and non-submissive girls came in a steady stream, day after delicious spanking day.

Here are some more examples, to show some of the spanking and flogging apparatus I have at my disposal.

This one is a small rocking chair I get a  girl to kneel on. Not easy, but brilliant. Once you get into a good rhythm you whack!….they rock forward, usually squealing, then at their full backward rock… THWACK! You can send them forward squealing again! I like to use this when I demonstrate my skill to new staff. It shows me at my flogging best, especially if I do a flourish with the cane in between!

The last couple of shot shows a blubbering girl gently rocking to a standstill. Very satisfying.

I had a padded spanking bench, which meant the bottom was low, yet almost horizontal. Similar to the judicial method of old, this enabled a great swing from well back, to swish down not the buttocks, rather than a sideways swipe. My word! I made some girls scream on this!

Anyway, I could tell you about my vast array of equipment all day! But that is not really why we are here.

As my popularity with the Board of Education grew, so did the number of girls coming from court. Eventually we became an ‘Academy of Correction’, which in real terms meant that all the girls were naughty girls sent from the courts. Slowly our area of induction grew, so that we served the North of the County.

My staff were excellent in both teaching and discipline, but the need for discipline was steadily growing as the type of girl we ‘housed’ became all of the type mentioned above. I started to get the first rumblings of dissatisfaction from them. 

My first action was to take charge of induction. This meant that a girl would come straight from court in her civilian clothes, and depending upon what level of correction she needed, she got a suitable uniform, and her first punishment. It was a proviso of the courts that on arrival a girl was punished on admission.

So in they came, some nervous, worried and shy, others full of bravado. They ranged from a timid girl who had strayed, and needed a few terms of harsh discipline, to the brat. Girls who needed a sound flogging on the bare buttocks, regularly, and of increasing intensity, until they behaved themselves. 

Let me introduce you to a timid girl first of all, and show you how things proceeded.

This is Molly. She is still here and from time to time needs a plimsol or cane across her cheeks, but all in all, by our standards, she is quite a good girl!

She arrived like most timid girls, quite well dressed and I was struck by her very modern hairstyle. All girls have a ‘mug shot’ for our files.

The first thing I would do, would be to give them a reprimand and tell them in no uncertain manner, what to expect. Then, much to their surprise I would make them strip naked, placing their old civilian clothes into a bag, which was duly sealed  and labelled.

I would point out that I knew exactly why they are here, and would make them describe their actions before a cross. Religious or not, confession before this Christian Icon has a profound effect on their mind.

As I tidied away their clothes I would pass whichever style uniform was allotted, and tell them to put it on.

Most would look quite happy about it, strangely enough, although some objected. I think that having the pressures of the modern social media controlled world taken away, and thrust into the 1950’s so to speak, was quite comforting, and to many, very exciting.

We all had to attend a psychology course about the makeup of the young woman’s mind, and it proved very useful. I knew now that the telling off and transformation for most would be quite sexually exciting. So I would leave them alone for ten minutes, to consider things. And they knew that on my return they would be spanked. Very often, in fact, almost every time, they masturbated in my absence.

They knew I understood, and on my return their glistening pussies, damp knickers and smell of love juice would make them blush.

I would usually get straight into their punishment then.

It was difficult to estimate how much a girl would struggle and kick, so for the first time I nearly always put them on the piano stool, bottom high, palms on floor. If they tried to protect themselves they would fall over.

Not only that, it is a very revealing and humiliating introduction to the world of Corporal Punishment.

After their first punishment it was a tradition that they remained on show or in ‘corner time’. Usually as a class of girls they had never met, came in giggling and saying various comments.

So long as they were not too vociferous, I allowed almost anything. The humiliation did the new girl the world of good!

So for now, we will leave her blushing, in face and bottom, before the cat-calling giggling tormentors. And move on to Chapter Two…

 

The Naughty Estate Agent

It was her big opportunity.

She had worked at ‘Jones and Sons’ for eight years now, and her superior had just gone on maternity leave. This was just what she had hoped for, an old ruin in Yorkshire had just come on the market, a big gothic place, which the Managing Director said could be ideal for a T.V. or Film Set.

She was dispatched to a beautiful old village, all expenses paid, to survey the site, take photos, and make a portfolio for presentation to the ‘big’ T.V. and film people. In fact, anyone in media who might be interested.

It was a big task. They gave her two weeks to do it, which was more than generous. 

After her first night at the ‘Black Lion’ she had a full English breakfast, and set off to find the ruin, armed with a set of keys. The sun shone, the scenery was beautiful, the sky was blue. What could possibly go wrong?

An hour later, after trying various keys, she was there. The huge squeaking iron gates locked behind her. She got out of her car, which would be perfectly safe locked in, and set off for an initial exploration.

Straight away she fell in love with the place. Crows flew into the air filling the sky with noise, but soon settled to be replaced by the gentle hum of bees, and tranquil bird call. 

“Wow! What a place!”

She began by going in the front doorway.

Straight through to the back doorway, and outside again. Something about the light shining through the rear opening beckoned her. The back of the building was mysterious, in the fact that the south wing had a portcullis of sorts.

She walked to it. Almost mesmerised by it, she had dreamed of places like this, but to be here alone, with the keys, just to wander and explore, was a dream.

Her office and responsibilities began to fade quickly. ‘Plenty of time for all that!” she thought.

The Portcullis was like a magnet, she walked quickly to it, turned and backed on to it. “Oh God! This is so like my naughty dreams.” She thought to herself. She took a deep breath and filled with bravery in this enchanted place, she shouted to the heavens…”I want fastening to this portcullis naked! I want to be spanked, hard, then fucked senseless! I am a dirty pain loving bitch!”

The birds flew into the air again, and like some huge organ in a church, breaking the holy silence with a cacophony of noise! Her own voice echoed off the walls…

“bitch….bitch…bitch…” Slowly fading. She laughed aloud, very aloud, and again the echoing laughter came  back. 

Slowly things went quiet again, an orange tip butterfly fluttered by, to settle on a bright yellow clementine. She felt very much alone, very much excited, and very much in need of her fingers in her dripping wet cunt!

She just could not help herself. It was as if her pussy was shouting at her, “ohhh fuck work, get your fingers busy and fuck me!”

She reached up to grab her tight white panties, which were sopping wet, and pulled them down to the floor.

The feeling of being so very naughty made her drip, she was desperate to get her fingers busy.

“How naughty! I’m getting paid, I should be working, but here I am in the open air, with my knickers down at my ankles!”

The cool air hit her pubic hair and pussy lips, sending a delightful shiver up inside her. She slid to the floor to open her legs and stretch the tight white panties…wide.

It didn’t take her long to cum, twice. The muscles in her cunt gripped her middle finger in spirals it was so intense. She shouted out loud…”I am such a naughty girl fingering my cunt, getting my bottom mossy,…I need spanking! A good long hard bare bottom….ooooooooh…spanking!”

The word echoed off the walls like a hand slapping some firm young buttocks.

Slowly the echo faded, and her amour subsided. The birds came back one by one to settle in the branches.

Her first day at work …::smile::… had passed, it only took that one day for Kate to fall in love with the ruin, it had a sort of hold on her, her pussy had never felt so good. Either to touch and feel, or from her insides, to be touched, fingered and felt.

She went back to the Black Lion, ate well, masturbated in bed, then slept like a log.

She was up late, just in time to be the last one to the breakfast buffet. She treated herself to a magnificent ‘fry-up’ and set off eagerly to the ruin.

As she approached it, down the quiet country lane, it was even better than meeting it for the first time. It was like meeting an old trusted friend. Her face beamed, her pussy went wet.

Kate stripped to her fresh white knickers, opened the gates, feeling confidently secure in her solitude. After parking the car, she walked in just her knickers and shoes, through the ruin, to the portcullis. 

It was a little cloudy, and deliciously cool. She backed on to it, the metal, the intense cold of it, felt like a whip lash to her back and bottom. “Somebody come and tie me to this and fuck me without mercy! Let me be your whore! Three of you! One up my cunt, one in my mouth and one right up deep in my arse!” She shouted to the breeze.

Once more Ravens, rooks and crows called back to her in alarm as they rose into the air. She laughed loudly. Never had she felt so decadent and free.

She let her knickers fall to her ankles.

Holding on to some old cord, maybe washing line that she had picked up on her wandering a, she threaded it into the metal and imagined herself waiting to be used by a gang of warriors who had taken some medieval village.

“Gang rape me! Hold my legs up and take me one by one you filthy animals! I’ll wear the fuckng lot of you out! Fill every orifice I have with your warm sticky spunk!”

She turned to the portcullis, the cold metal made her nipples stick out like a cartoon characters eyes in a crisis!

She wiggled her bottom as if inviting the dirty bearded hoard! Then she pushed up to each and every one of them as they pumped into her, again and again, big rough bellies slapping her buttocks, dirty hands holding her hips as she begged for more, wearing them out one by one.

How she laughed at her wicked thoughts. She ended her fantasy by imagining her bottom was stuck out for each one of the thirty warriors to give her six lashes with their broad leather belts on her bottom. “Thrash my arse you dirty mother fuckers! Make it blister!

Before she knew it, it was early afternoon, another busy day done. “Oh bugger it, I’ll start tomorrow!”

She drove back to the pub, ate well, fingered well, and slept well.

….naughty isn’t she our Kate! More soon…bye!


New Girls for Spanking

A while ago I put an advert out on PP asking for new girls to come to my school for a spanking or more, and the chance to appear in one of my stories.

I was staggered by the response of pretty young girls wanting to come and bare their bottom for a spanking.

I already have my main team of lovely spanking models, that will not change.

I already have a full client list of ‘private customers’ who do not want to be photographed, just spanked in their fantasy scenarios. They come to be spanked for real, very often for a past deed that has troubled them, the most common is bullying someone.

But for one of my stories, I needed new girls, to come straight from court, to my school of correction. To be stripped, put in school uniform, and punished, before being sent to the dormitory to begin their new life. Their sentence, without a criminal record would then begin, under the auspices of Miss Kenworthy. Sometimes a week, sometimes a month, sometimes longer.

The first girl to apply was Molly.

NOTE :-

This is not one of my stories. This is a description of what happened with each girl, the real girl, not a story character. The ones who replied to my advert.

Like most newcomers she arrived with her  bag of belongings, and obviously a little nervous. We had written a few times prior to our meeting and I had constantly reassured her that I am a gentleman, and what I do is built on trust, respect, and most of all, recommendation.

I soon put her at ease over tea and cake, and before long she was comfy in my warm friendly company, having a chuckle. Then we talked about her spanking.

She told me why she needed a spanking, it was all to do with being unkind to a young teacher, and making her life hell. 

So, an hour later after shooting her transformation into a naughty girl in  school uniform I gave her a real good telling off about her behaviour, pointing out how the poor young woman must have felt. I told her to imagine the woman was there now, to witness her punishment, and afterwards agreeing to get on with her life, the matter finally being closed.

She said she wished she was.

I told her that if this was in my day as a Headmaster, at my school,  in my office, that even though it was her first spanking, it would be a hard long one on the bare, and if she did not apologise and show true regret, I would use the plimsol on her bare behind and quite possibly finish with the cane!

In real life she had had her bottom smacked and stroked, but she had never been spanked. I told her quite plainly that she needed a good spanking and would feel better for it, and that there is only one person who decides when it is over…

ME!

This scared her a little, so I offered a safe word and assurance that I would stop instantly. But added, that for her own good she should try to struggle on through the pain and shock, to the end, and be grateful that someone has finally put an end to her guilt.

She agreed.

I told her to stand to my right as I sat on an old wooden chair. I instructed her to lift her gym slip, and lower her knickers to her knees. I turned to take her hand, her delightful pussy was only two feet from my nose. I gave a gentle tug and over she came. Her virginal soft pert young bare bottom arched up towards me, trembling. I could feel her nervousness on my lap.

It was a tense moment, the whole world at that instant condensed to her, in my secluded, perfectly safe spanking sanctuary, draped over my knee. We could make as much noise as we liked, nobody would hear or disturb us. The air was  still, sunlight illuminated her firm young cheeks, her fine downy bottom hair stood up.

I wrapped my left arm around her tiny waist and gripped. I raised my right hand, holding it stiff and firm in a slight arch to match the curve of her cheeks.

Using all my skills I began, straight into a hard fast flurry of firm smacks. Four on her right cheek, two on the left, three to each then two on each alternating. The poor girl screamed, bucked and wriggled!

She had no idea where the next resounding smack would fall.

Her right arm flew around in instinctive protection.

Ha! I was ready for that! I caught it easily around the wrist and forced it to the small of her back. ‘How dare she try to block me?!’

The noise she made was a series of loud hisses in the sharp form of …

“Ahh ahh ahh ahhh!”

It spurred me on, her bottom was soon hot and crimson.

No safe word was shouted, so I swung high, and landed hard, watching the shock waves ripple through the soft flesh like the sea might on the shore in a stiff breeze.

“I’m sorry Miss Worthington…I’m so sorry!” She wailed.

I believed her, the apology shot forth repeatedly, in earnest, between her squeals.

I finished the bare  bottom spanking using just my fingers, hard and stiff, each smack leaving four white stripes for a brief moment in time as I said loudly “Let this be a lesson you will never forget young lady!”

She squealed her reply as her bottom bounced “Oh it is Mr Jones! I won’t ever forget…thank you, thank you!”

I stopped.

Here are a couple of photos of her bottom after I had spanked her, in position for the shoot…

Breathing hard I watched her cheeks settle. Neither of us spoke for a few minutes as I gently stroked her bottom.

She spent a while in corner time reflecting…

We continued the shoot, taking photos of her red bottom. She asked if I minded if she masturbated at the end. This is very common. I consented and watched. 

As she left she thanked me and asked…”Next time can I try the plimsoll?”

 

The next new girl, in September is Karen, she is playing a girl called Lisa, a name picked by one of my Twitter followers.

Well, she arrived and her spanking was lovely. Not delivered by  myself, but by Samantha who gave her a crisp half dozen of the cane too. I always enjoy watching a spanking live, I look at everything in great detail. The shockwaves on the bottom, the expressions in their faces, even little details like smoothing a skirt, or folding a pair of knickers.

She was a much more confident young woman than Molly. 

Very compliant too….we’d like to cane you now, is that okay? “Yep!”

I remember all those years ago when I started this journey, thinking, ‘are there really attractive young women out there who want and need a good hard spanking?

Yes, yes yessss indeed Asa, if only I could go back in time and reassure myself then. What would I say? Something like….”just start off with your dream. Do it steady, build up slow. Alwaysbe a nice warm hearted understanding gentleman. Show gratitude and understanding…always, even if they change their mind at the last minute. Build somewhere safe to do it in. Once one comes, that’s all it takes, just one, and then like a forest fire, it spreads and grows! This is you talking Asa! Look, it’s me! A bit more wrinkly, but yes, this old face is you. Ten years from now you will have spanked lots and lots of bottoms, all belonging to genuinely nice educated girls, beautiful girls who have bottoms to die for. And get this Asa! I now gave a waiting list!”

…I told her of the story and she drifted I to the role easily. It was like spanking magic taking place.

Like Molly she was made to change into a school uniform. Watching her strip from her day clothes was a joy. The transformation from a modern young woman to a naughty schoolgirl is always amazing to me. Even my girls. They walk in, full of the confidence that years of modelling experience brings, with all the praise and adoration of how lovely they are. But put a school uniform on them my friend, and watch!

Taking photos in these situations becomes so very real. We three, or more, or less, travel back in time, itis a phenomenon really. I hope explain it well!

Truely ly it is, there whole persona and body language changes. I watched her strip naked, doing exactly as told, and…trust me on this, loving every…single…second! She was trembling in excitement.

Samantha looks tall and intimidating in this mode. Such a gentle well spoken woman and very genuine. But once she is her ‘Domme’ mode, she changes in the opposite spectrum of spanking.

Karen was in awe of her, trying to please her and doing every little thing for her as best she could.i noticed her thigh was wet, she was dribbling with excitement.

Samantha loves to humiliate and stretch the gap between a Domme and a submissive as far as she can. She gave her the largest regulation navy blue school knickers to wear!

The spanking was magnificent. From the ordering to get over her knee, to putting her in corner time. The smacks were full on, hard and fast. Karen squealed and wriggled. A proper yelp, every smack, it was very erotic to watch. And even more to listen to!

To me, a spanking does not have to be brutal. Just firm and crisp,  making them wriggle to escape. The joy of a woman keeping in position during a bottom warming spanking, because they need it, because it is exactly the experience they  crave, and…they want to please you by taking as much as they possibly can is ‘spanking heaven’. To hear their ties of pain, to see the struggle of the ‘spanking dance’, to be in complete control of their bottom!

They know that the spanking will only finish when either I or Samantha say so. They have to take  it.

We watch for every sign of going to far, but some say…”no, give me no mercy!” I love them best of all. Lucy is a prime example.

Here is Karen’s bottom straight after her spanking. I would class it a typical schoolgirl spanking of the time. Enough to hurt and teach a lesson. A good dose of humiliation before her friends to follow too.

The humiliation being that glorious spectacle of spanking, ‘Corner Time’.

Next up is her caning, which she had to take naked.

more to come…

 

From the Top Floor to the Cellar

Under construction….be patient with me, I flit about like a butterfly working on all my things bit by bit…

A very well to do, educated young woman answered one of my adverts.

“Dear Mr Jones.

I have a desperate need to be stripped naked and caned hard on the bare bottom in a derelict building, or at least a building in a state of disrepair. I have heard that you might be able to help.

Yours faithfully,

Charlotte.”

I replied that I had just the place, and suggested meeting for coffee to discuss it.

The reply was surprising…

“Dear Mr Jones.

Thank you for your kind offer. But I do not want to meet you until the day. I have been told that you are a gentleman and can be trusted. I do not even want to see you on the day, until my caning begins.

Just send a day, a time, and instructions.

Please.

I need a thrashing in mysterious surroundings and unusual circumstances. It really is as simple as that.

Charlotte.”

So I did as she asked. I sent her the address, a date, a time, and a note. I kept the note simple…

‘Once at my studio, go around the back to a small black door. When I see you approach I will leave it open and will meet you at the top floor. You will find the stairs after a while. Strip naked, wear a hat, and climb. On reaching the top floor, turn left and walk. Do not deviate left or right. You will know when you are at the place. Your adventure will not end there, after your thrashing, go to the cellar and follow the dark passage to the end. Do not reply unless you agree to follow these instructions.

Until then, goodbye.

Mr Jones.’

She replied, and agreed.

A month later found her at the back entrance to my studio. With a hat in her hand. I saw her arrive and dashed away to the stairs. I heard the outside door close, and a few footsteps.

I walked quietly and swiftly to the upper floor where I had set up some small apparatus. I waited patiently, more than a little excited by the thought of thrashing a strangers bottom before we had even spoken.

She found the stairs, and out of curiosity pressed the button for the lift. Not for a moment expecting it to arrive.

She turned to face the staira and began to climb them nervously, and excitedly. The thought of a fantasy being fulfilled thrilled her.

Right up to the top. (This photo being small is supposed to make it look like she has gone a long way!)

She turned to her left and entered what was obviously the room in question. “Perfect!” Thought Charlotte.

She had brought a pair of shoes with wedge heels, which she knew thrust her bottom out pertly. She changed into them.

I spoke.

She jumped in shock!

“Do not turn Charlotte. Know that I am watching your every move, and know that I like what I see very much, you please me. Walk to the apparatus and prepare yourself.”

“Yes Sir.”

With the walk of a super model she swayed her way invitingly to the small set of apparatus I had clinically set out in the space. I knew it would look small at first glance, but threatenng and austere on approach.

She was nervous, naturally, and also excited. I could see the nervous twitches and involuntary shivering. She was exactly where she had dreamed of being.

I told her in a few simple words, not shouting, just slow and clear…” Bend over the stool in your best position for a thrashing, I want to examine you, appreciate you, and drink you in to my soul.”

“Yes Sir.”

My manhood was hard already, but the sight of her, in that hat, bent over, gagging for a thrashing with the cane, excited me beyond belief. But of course I did not want her to know that. I gripped my throbbing cock for a few seconds, and squeezed the gland….”ohhh.”

She may have heard. I gathered a level of composure and walked slowly towards her. I had carefully arranged a small array of equipment. Her mind would logically think that I was going to walk to her and pick up a cane. Little did she know I had a senior dragon cane in my hand, gently flexing on its own will as I walked to survey my prey.

She stirred at the sound of my steps.

“Do not rise at all, do not move…at all. Stay looking forwards.

“Yes Sir.”

 

My first decision was to decide of back stroke, fore stroke, or both. 

I am more accurate with a back hand but decided to start with four quick cuts to her plump cheeks completely by surprise, from the other side to this. The apparatus was in the way slightly. I strode back, gently bringing the swaying rattan up over my back.

 


The Visitor

Under construction….

Over many years now I have offered a spanking service…

I have asked my dear friend Kate to act the role of Harriet, a lady who just could not wait to be spanked, and could not decide how!

Women just contact me now, I hardly ever advertise unless on PP for a specific part in a story. Most women who contact me do it after a secret conversation with a friend, or by reading one of my stories, or via social media, usually Twitter or Tumblr

One such lady was Harriet.

As often happens she sent me a message, which eventually led to a cyber spanking! Then she said  she wished she was brave enough to come. My response is nearly always the same…’come for tea and cake, let’s talk.’

To be honest, it very rarely ends in just a talk! It usually ends up with their bottom all aglow and walking away with a deep feeling of relaxation and…

“I wish I had known about you years ago! See you soon!”

Harriet was probably the most excited woman I have ever ‘serviced with a spanking’.

On her arrival she was visibly shaking, I thought it was just nerves, but it was a combination of this and pure excitement!

I took her to the school roomc, most girls want to see it first.

“Oh Mr Jones, I can hardly believe I am here, I have seen it so many times on line!”

I could tell straight away what was coming, as I saw her turn around at the stool. “Oh Mr Jones, I have seen so many of ‘your girls’ draped over this! I want my belly to lay where there’s have! Spank me now!”

Before I could answer her bottom was bare!

I must say it was hard to resist, but it is me who is in charge, not my visitors.

“Not yet, young lady, be patient. You have at least four rooms to see on your first visit. All filled with spanking apparatus. I am in charge here, that was naughty of you, trying to take control of your visit.  Especially in my school room. And you know what naughty girls get.”

“Oh yes, Mr Jones, a spanking. Sorry Sir.”

“I won’t forget.”

“Oh good.” Came a cheeky, blushing reply.

Harriet is like this, she still comes often :smiles:….blushing Harriet?

She turned and saw Neddy.

Neddy is a little rocking horse, and isthe favourite of Harriet, as she found out on a visit later than this one. It is also the favourite of a client whom I must mention, not by name, but by uniform.

She works for a company whose staff have to wear a bright red business suit. That is all I can say. She loves to wear it, minus skirt and knickers as I make her gallop to orgasm as I crop her pleasingly plump beautiful bottom.

I make her gallop faster and faster, jumping over imaginary gates, streams and hedges. When she cums she gallops so fast, that it is a wonderment to see, she squeals and pushes down, grinding I to the saddle as I stripe her bottom with the crop mercilessly.

She always gushes, profusely, and her love juices run freely down the saddle. I never, ever, clean it. If a girl wants to ride it and avoid the stain I place a wipe on the saddle.

anyway…Harriet adds her own pattern to the mosaic, and beautiful and dirty it remains!

“ohhhh Neddy! I have seen Neddy in your photos lots!” Said Harriet as she walked to it.

And rode it!

Not just rode it, but like an Olympic equestrian she galloped magnificently as if on some cross country chase!

She laughed as she swung the crop around and shouted in good old county Squire fashion…”Tally Ho!”

Mr Watson.

Mr Watson was a strict no nonsense sort of chap. If a girl needed to be punished, he punished her. In his mind he had a very clear and precise list of offences and punishment. He also kept a log, recording naughty girls misdemeanours and severity of punishment.

These ranged from a mild spanking showing mercy, …the humiliation is enough, he thought, in certain circumstances, especially before others. To a full blown thirty six stroke thrashing on the bare, before the whole school, with no mercy.

He was University educated, a Headmaster to be feared, respected and loved.

He knew punishment inside out. He knew how it lasted a lifetime. He would see a young woman in the supermarket with her children and smile, smile in the knowledge that he had striped her bare bottom and seen her pussy. She would know he remembered it and blush.

But, he was fair. 

Fair but firm, could have been written about him.

I think that as a reader, you will like him. I have met him, and can tell you now, it was a joy to meet him.

Let me tell you all about one of his challenges. A young woman called…(if you are a naughty girl it can be you) but for the story it is…Charlotte.

She was rather promiscuous, and very aware of how her beauty and shape could excite boys, and a fair few of her girl friends. Here she is…

She was a clever girl, and quite studious, but she was easily tempted. Especially to show her knickers and more. At lunch time she had been caught no fewer than four times, flashing her knickers to the boys whilst they masturbated.. For fifty pence each!

She had done detention for this, and had received the ruler on the back of her thighs. But she had had her final warning, any more and it would be a much more severe punishment.

She had a lovely singing voice, and was in the school choir. Yesterday they had gone to perform at a Cathedral, and had won second prize. Charlotte sang a solo which bought tears to the audience’s eyes. But afterwards, the bishop had gone into the vestry to congratulate them, only to find Charlotte in her choir outfit, legs wide open, and knickerless before a group of boys from the Grammer School.

She had just thrown her knickers onto the floor, they were all wanking madly to shoot all over them, and she was saying she would wear them on the bus home! These were the words he heard as he entered!

The poor Bishop had nearly fainted, and rang Mr Watson immediately, telling him that he will withdraw the choir’s award if he does not deal with the matter to his satisfaction.

Mr. Watson told him that he would deal with it, first thing in the morning, by spanking the girl on the bare, and giving her the cane too, also promising to ask her Mummy to come in to school afterwards, with a view to suspending her daughter for a fortnight.

When he arrived, he crept quietly to Charlotte’s form room, he wanted to burst in, surprise the whole class, and set an example by dragging her out by the ear, to his office.

Little did the naughty girl know, that her Mummy had been rung at work, and told about what she had done, and to collect her after suspension and a spanking. Both embarrassed and furious, she was on her way to school

What he found as he entered the classroom, shook even Mr.Watson.

“Oh my word!”

He found five boys masturbaing frantically as a group of girls urged them on. There was around five pound in change on a desk, the girl who picked the winner (the first boy to orgasm), the boy himself, and Charlotte taking a third each!

“Get your penises away, and get out of the room! Stand outside, all of you, until I fetch you in, one by one….OUT….NOW!!!”

Charlotte hastily stood, pulling her knickers up and began to follow them.

“Not you, you stupid girl!”

 

 

 

 

Much more to come….call back 

The Welcome Home

 

There is a young woman, named Samantha, who loves to act the role of a 1950’s style submissive housewife…

But, allow me to digress before the story starts, just below the title photo…

Let’s jump from fantasy to real life for a moment ….Samantha Alexander is a lovely broad minded, naughty young woman, but her Mummy follows her on Twitter, and so she does not want anything too naughty on there. We don’t want her Mummy spanking her do we?

YES YES YES…I know you do, I would love to see it myself.

But it is all about being a gentleman and respecting a friend’s wishes. So please do not copy and post any of the more explicit ones on Social Media.

A hot summers day sees Samantha come back from one of her modelling assignments, to her beautiful house.

I have noticed over the years that the warmer the weather, or a room, even in winter, the naughtier she gets. As she closed the door behind her she was glad to feel the coolness of her home.

It did nothing to cool her ardour. She was aroused.

Samantha projects her wonderful image to the world via her web sites, but in the privacy of her own home, she loves to behave like an obedient wife of the 1950’s, where a girl was spanked, often, when her husband decided she needed it.

Her mind began to wander, her maid Kate had left her home in a beautiful state, a long day at leisure beckoned…so do did her pussy. The crotch of her yoga pants were already developing a damp patch.

Aprons!

Maybe to you it is a strange thought to pop into her head. But to Samantha, they epitomised the devoted submissive wife of her favourite decade. Her idol in life was Marilyn Monroe, it was her who initially sparked her interest in the era. She saw a photo set of her once, wearing an apron and loved the way it showed her waist and legs off.

Close by to where she lived was An old Hall, and it’s illustrious owner in the 1950’s, was an unlikely friend of Marilyn.  To think that her favourite had trod the grass so close to where she lived, was one of the reasons she purchased the house.

From a local antique and collectible centre, she had accrued a little collection, and they were stored in a cupboard close by, she turned to go and look. Her house was quite immaculate, everything had a place, and Kate her maid had to keep everything in its place. Usually, she succeeded.

There they were, all freshly laundered, in a neat little pile. She took three out and took them to the table.

Where she decided which one to wear today. The black one with flowers.

She found it sexy, in a spanking way, to remain dressed on the top half, but to be bare under the apron. She got changed.

I think you will agree that the apron looked lovely, but in a way, spoilt a lovely view!

But not from the back, as you can see…

Here she is putting the other aprons away in the storage cabinet.

She started doing a few chores, not that many needed doing really, but she knew the postman was coming soon.

She liked to be seen you see. Always in a subtle way, she knew he watched, she knew he dropped his trousers and pants to have a good hard wank, but she never let him know, that she knew.

Across the way from her garden was a woman called Claudia, a busybody. She would constantly look from the windows of her house, for anything. She was the chairwoman of the local neighbourhood watch committee.

Looking over a wall, or hedge, into a garden was not unknown!

Over the past six months alone, she had reported Samantha to Mr Jones eight times. He was a professional disciplinarian who came to see Samantha now and then, to satisfy her need for a spanking.

He was much older than Samantha, and between them, they had led Claudia to believe he was a strict uncle. When Samantha went away, she told her to ring her Uncle if anything was amiss. The first time she rang him about two windows left open, he said she should be more careful and would spank her on her return home. Claudia feigned shock, but was delighted.

They made sure she could see when she was spanked, and sure enough they spotted her looking. Well, to be exact, Samantha did, as she looked up from her spanking. Since that day two things have happened…

Claudia became extra diligent in her duties.

and

Claudia began having the best orgasms of her life! Both as she watched the punishments, and as she thought of the punishments in her ‘alone time’.

As I said, Samantha started doing a few jobs in the kitchen, waiting for the gate to click, and then aim her bare bottom towards the kitchen window.

One of her many passions is baking, often trying to match a creation from her favourite T.V. Programme. She baked some muffins…

She did a few more little chores in the kitchen, the postman could have arrived ten minutes ago, or ten minutes from now. She knew he had a big…(now now!) …postal round to cover, and could not be precise in his calling time. She stood to smell the baking and waited.

She heard footsteps approaching…So, she dashed to the sink, and washed a cup. She saw the postman walk across her yard to the back door.

The postman pushed his Mail through the letter box and turned…he was not dissappointed, once again she put on a show.

Claudia pressed her nose to her window as he took hold of his throbbing manhood, let his trousers and pants fall to the floor and pull his loose foresking back and forth over his swollen head until hot creamy sperm shot onto the window to run down, sticky and steaming. It only took a minute, this is what he saw…

She waited until he was almost ready to shoot onto her window before she turned to bend over, it was at that moment she heard him groan, and a wet splat, splat, splat on the glass!

Why not do the same?

Expand the next photo, spurt on her window as she wiggles her naughty bare bottom for you! Can you see her looking at your throbbing desperate cock? 

Ooooh, was that nice Mr.Postman?

The timer on the cooker ‘tinged’ and Samantha got her buns out!

Now come on! You know very well I mean the buns in the oven!

And put them on a cooling rack on her ample worktop.

Claudia rang me to report her wayward neighbour, and I thanked her. I told her that if she looks out for me, she will see Samantha get a sound bare bottom spanking soon after my arrival.

As Samantha was surveying her lovely buns, I rang…

Her phone was docked and on speaker.

I told her that she had been reported for flashing her bare bottom to the postman whilst he masturbated looking through the window, and that she must be ready and in position for a damn good bare bottom spanking on my arrival at 5.00 that evening.

I  could not see her, we were not on face time like when she masturbates for me. But I could imagine her naughty face as she squirmed!

I told her to go and get in a spanking position now, because I was going to ring Claudia back and tell her, and she was sure to look. We both knew that Claudia would rub her pussy frantically as she did so.

Samantha took a bite of a bun, and then went, ‘to assume the position’.

I rang Claudia and told her. Two minutes later, her knickers were down as she sat by the window looking at Samantha presenting her bottom. “Oh young lady! You are going to get such a spanking!”

Samantha knew exactly how Claudia’s fingers would be frigging away on her dripping wet cunt, and wiggled her bottom, to help her orgasm!

She gave her what she thought would be enough time to orgasm, and moved on. That is when it began…

She was excited, Mr Jones was visiting. He was coming to punish her. It was what he did, either to fulfil a sexual fantasy, or a deep need to ease a guilty conscience of a girl with a spanking need.

He was a Professional Disciplinarian and had lots of clients, the vast majority female, aged between 25 and upwards, to around 50. She liked him, a lot. He was much older, which she wanted. A sort of father figure, a strict Uncle, or a Headmaster. He scared her a little, and took no nonsense. He punished a naughty girl as he saw fit, and the punishment only finished when he decided. There was no safe word. “What’s the point of a safe word? It is a punishment. The naughty girl has no say in the matter. You consent to that, in writing, or you look elsewhere.” Was what he had said. And she had signed on the ‘bottom line’. She was in his charge, she was in his care, and that was it…simple.

She began to walk around the house, putting herself in spanking positions and corner time. By the time he came she would be at the dizzy height of spanking arousal. He would know this of course, he knew all things spanking. That is why he sometimes positioned her at the corner of furniture, so she could push and rub to orgasm as he spanked. He even suggested having a corner of the table made special, by fastening a piece of red padded, rough textured, leather. For her pussy to rub hard on. Maybe even protruding a little, to fit between the legs.

“But people would ask!” She said.

“Exactly”, he replied.

She was thinking about it. 

First she placed herself in the position she would greet him in tonight.

Beginning to thrust, she was getting excited, but delayed her orgasm. “Now, now Samantha, delay it!” She told herself as she walked to stand with her back to the stairs. 

Images of past corner times began to drift through her mind…

So she put her hands on her head and stood on display, as she often had to under his instruction. Always ordered not to turn, and to stand in silence until told to move, and definitely no rubbing.

Although Mr Jones was not there, she could feel his eyes on her bottom. Often as she stood there she could hear him breath steadily, she wished she could hear him now.

But in another few hours he will be.

The clock in its old oak case ticked slowly. She felt a trickle of juice leave her pussy and run into the dimple of her upper inner thigh, nestled in her crutch. How on earth would she last until he came. The thought of her masturbation room came into her mind, and a slow journey towards it began.

In her apron pocket was a duster, she began to polish the bannister rail, her mind drifting to all the spankings she had had in her lovely home. 

She smiled to herself as she remembered a spanking on the stairs. He had gone up them and found the bannister sticky, she confessed to straggling it to masturbate and not wiping it. 

If asked, Samantha would admit to being an exhibitionist, and showing herself at the window was a passion. Mr Jones had punished her in the same places where she had done this, which of course she knew she would love.

Upon reaching the first window a particularly long painful spanking with a hairbrush came to mind. She recalled seeing Claudia with her binoculars!

How she pushed her bottom up for it, and how Claudia’s binoculars wobbled as her other hand busied itself in her wet bush.

Turning the corner of the stairwell she walked up to the landing. Here, more images of past spankings came to mind.

The sound of the slipper landing on her plump cheeks, the sound of my voice chastising her, and the deep sinking pain after the initial sting, flooded her mind.

Her masturbation room was down the hallway, she thought of going there next, but an imaginary voice called her into the next room, her bedroom. The voice belonged to one of her heroes, Marilyn Monroe. She fantasised about her. Lesbian fantasies of domination, submission and octane fuelled sex!

The voice told the naughty girl to enter.

At first she did not look at the picture on the wall, she imagined Marilyn looking at her, scrutinising her as she polished.

She imagined dropping the expensive ornament, maybe it could be an Oscar! She imagined Marilyn being so very cross.

“Samantha! You naughty girl! Pass me the cane!”

“Now bend over before your Mistress, assume the position!”

“Yes Mistress Marilyn.”

“Now get on the presentation chair, display yourself to me!”

 

 

After staying there for five minutes, she imagined Marilyn coming back, naked, with a huge ‘strap on’. “Get over the edge of the bed…you dirty little bitch! Beg me for this!”

“Fuck me Marilyn! Fuck me please!” She shouted to the empty house.

Imagine that if you will! Marilyn Monroe fucking Samantha Alexander with a huge strap on! After caning her! Hmm, fantasies don’t get much better than that for me! I need to have a wank!

Whew! Five minutes later, feeling relaxed, I will carry on for you!

…she left her bedroom, feeling moist and walked down the corridor to her masturbation room. Stopping at the mirror next to it, she looked at her reflection, smiled, and went in.

The bed in this room was soft and springy, she bounced up on to it and grabbed the headboard. Looking outside she could see other gardens. A couple had people in, and she could see movement behind one of Claudia’s curtains. “Does she never stop busybodying?”

She decided to give her something to look at….SMACK! She began to spank her own bottom! “I bet you wish you could spank me!” …smack, smack, smack!

The sound of the smacks, the sting, and the sensation, we’re all too much! She had to get her fingers in her wet pussy without delay!

She lay on the bed, opened her legs, lifted her apron and began playing with herself…

Oh God, her need was so great that a first pulse of orgasm twitched as soon as she caressed her erect clit. Her mounds were swollen. She slid fingers in, then rubbed, she was so excited, and so much in need, that she did not know what to do next…she just needed to cum!

“Ohhhh Mr Jones, I am such a naughty girl! Chastise me! Tell me I am naughty and need a spanking…ohhh fuck!….on my bare bottom! Yes, spank me Sir, please, oh fucking hell…ooooh!”

With her fingers pumping in and out of her wet pussy, and the force of her palm sending delicious fucking pulsations through the whole of her groin, she orgasmed in a magnificent way…”Oh yes Mr.Jones, spank my bottom, punish me! I’m your naughty girl! Spank me…spank me! Yesssssss!”

The orgasm was so great, and her pumping up and down so exerting, that she felt as if she had just had a really good fuck. Her eyes drooped as she lay in that cosy room.

She was still asleep as I pulled up. As the gate did its usual solid ‘clunk’ her eyes opened. As I knocked on the stout porch door she realised it was me, and stirred. I have my own little melody for a knock.

I heard footsteps thundering down the stairs, so I knocked again for dramatic effect…louder.

I glanced up at Claudia, who had one hand on her binoculars and the other in her knickers. I could tell by the rhythm of the lenses, that her finger to were already busy.

I saw her run into position,

…and then she shouted “Come in!”

I opened the door, and could see her bottom presented well for me. But she was late! I decided to do something a little harsher than usual. She  is a great one for swinging her hands back to block the smacks. So as I took off my shoes, I opened my ‘Disciplinary Bag’, and took out a rope and a paddle.

I grabbed her ear, much to  her annoyance, and told her off for thinking it is acceptable to dash in at the last minute and get into her position in a hurry.

Pulling her by the ear, the followed in a somewhat dramatic fashion. “You young lady, need teaching a harsher lesson!” I told her as I bound her withropeto a small support in the old billiard room.

The subduing effect of a rope around the wrists of a naughty girlie nothing short of magical. I had never seen her so submissive. “Kiss the rope Samantha, kiss it because it belongs to me.”

“Yes Mr.Jones Sir xxxxxxxxmwah.”

I then walloped her bottom a dozen times on each cheek.

My my, she did a very merry spanking dance, tied there, hopping about, squealing. Her bottom glowed.

I untied her and told her to kneel on the top of the arms of the sofa, where I gave her four more on each cheek with my hand.

I then proceeded to spank her in various locations, the reason being a little self indulgence. I like to spank in different ways for one, but, I was amused to think of Claudia dashing from room to room, knickers at the knees or ankles,to find the best view. I had noticed her before you see, I often glance up to see.

Here are some positions and locations…

 

Satisfied withthe colour of her cheeks I thought it was time for a little humiliation. So I told her to go to the conservatory door, and face out with her hands on her head.

She did so.

“Can you see her?”

“Yes Mr.Jones, she’s looking.”

I rang Claudia.  “Hello, Claudia, are you satisfied?”

“Oh God…not yet, almost there, turn her around…oh f..OH GOD, HURRY!”

I did not actually mean in an orgasm sort of way, but did not want to embarrass her. 

I told Samantha to display herself, bottom out of the door.

“But passers by will see!”

“That is not important to me, now do it, or Isill take you outside and cane you.”

She did it.

I heard Claudia orgasm, three times.

She then spoke. “I am satisfied now Mr Jones! I love it when you are here. Welcome home!”

This is the end of part one, she tells her friends about what she does and they pay a visit, with an interesting book.

I WRITE FAR TO FAST AND DON’T ALWAYS EDIT! LET ME KNOW IF THERE ARE ANY GLARING ERROR.

 

more soon!…..be patient!…

 

 

 

 


Tamara, the making of a Domme

Tamara is in her sixth year, and is a very well respected girl at her school. Diligent, and dutiful in her work, as well as a fun loving friend to know, she was quite rightly a very popular girl.

At her time at school she had seen a lot of girls punished, quite often on the bare bottom over a teacher’s knee, man or woman, and very often bent over touching their toes or kneeling on some punishment furniture.

Ever since the day she first saw it happen, it intrigued and excited her. Many a night in bed, before sleep, would be spent with her fingers working in her warm, moist pussy as she imagined punishing another girl, or, more often, one of the boys from the school the other side of town. How she wished her school was mixed, instead of being all girls. She would love to see a naughty boy, bent over, pants down, squealing like a girl as some Master curled some rattan cane around his naughty cheeks.

It was well known that the boys school had much harder punishments too. Some in front of the whole school! The number of strokes was higher too, up to 24 strokes on the bare in extreme cases.

So it has to be said, that even in her formative years, spanking was in her mind. Nowadays in her adulthood, approaching her prime, she is an adored Domme, dealing with naughty boys and girls bottoms every day she can, as well as being a much sought after model.

How did she develop into this woman, from being an ‘A’ grade school girl with her fantasies.

Well sit down, rest a while, and let me tell you all about it…

It all all began on an April day. Miss Cooper had asked her to collect some photocopying she had done for Tamara, it was for a project she was doing on ‘the Tunnels of Welbeck Abbey’. She had left it in a locked study room for her to collect, and Mr G.Reece overheard.

He was a well respected member of staff, but a lot of the girls found him a little too much at times. He stood too close when in their personal space, when he was describing something on a one to be be basis. It made them feel a little uneasy.

The truth of the matter was that secretly, Mr Reece was very fond of young girls bottoms and using his phone, he had amassed quite a collection of ‘up skirt’ photographs of the sixth form girls over the years.

He took his opportunity , given inadvertently by Miss Cooper, and raced to the room in question to find the photo copying and hide it right at the back of the bottom drawer in a small cabinet. Every teacher had a master key for study rooms and detention rooms.

Then he waited in the room opposite for Tamara, who had gone to the janitors to pick up and sign the logbook for the key, to go in, and start searching for the papers

He walked in, stealthily and watched. He reached for his phone, his hand brushing by his erect manhood. The prospect of seeing this girls knickers excited him, he had been waiting for an opportunity for ages.

The right pocket of his trousers had a carefully made hole in, his manhood was thrusting and throbbing through, the pulsating purple head almost on view. He trapped his cock between his finger and thumb to give it a few quick strokes as he stood, being careful not to go by the point of no return.

Oh it felt so good stroking away, knowing the risk, knowing that she had no idea, he thought about speeding the stroking up, and coming in his palm, (he had pretended to catch a sneeze in his handkerchief on many an occasion) but just before the sensation began to move into ‘the zone’, he stopped.

He coughed, “Hello Tamara, what are you doing in here?”

“Oh I am just looking for some photocopying Miss Cooper left for me.”

“Oh right, I wondered why the door was open, last time she left something for me, it was in the bottom drawer.”

“Oh really? I’ll have a look.” She said as she reached over.

He moved in, phone at the ready.

Her skirt rode up to reveal her tight, white school knickers, stretched across the firm ripe cheeks of her plump bottom.

“Oh it’s that blasted drawer again Tamara, it seems to scrape papers right to the back if the drawer is full, push your hand right inside, try to reach to the back.”

“Okay Mr. Reece…uuuuuuurgh!”

Oh what a sight! It was the best he had ever seen, he moved in for the perfect shot.

Unfortunately for him, he had left the volume on his phone to an ‘outdoor setting’ the click of the sound like a camera shutter shouted out…’I am taking a photo of your bottom!”

Tamara spun around in a flash, literally, just as the phone camera flashed. He had his settings to ‘auto’ and bending down so far in the darker corner made his camera flash. Poor Mr Reece, known to his fellow teachers as Meticulous Reece had slipped up, simply because he had acted on the spur of the moment. He was flustered, he had never been so unprepared! Always…ALWAYS! He had carefully planned his shots. In an instant he could see his life, his reputation, and his sacred pension begin to crumble, before his eyes.

“Mr Reece! You are taking photos of my bum and knickers….you dirty beast!”

“I….I….was, er…..I …I….I” spluttered the panicking Mr.Reece.

“Pass me that phone!” Shouted Tamara.

He was like a spectator at his own downfall. The evidence was there before him, he knew she was to see it any second, but his feet were rooted to the spot, he was speechless, and frozen in time.

His chance of survival was gone, she moved in and saw herself there on the screen.

“That, Mr Reece, is my school knicker clad bottom! On your phone! Kindly tell me why it is there…hmmmm?”

“Furthermore Mr.Reece, I suspect there are many more! Come on, it’s too late now, show me! I think Mr.Jones our Headmaster will want to see this! And, the police! You are finished Mr.Reece, you disgusting man!”

Mr.Reece fell to his knees, to beg. Tamara was surprised and delighted. To have a man of Mr.Reeves stature begging for mercy, on his knees before her was like a switch being turned in her head. She loved the feeling, and joy spread across her face as the sniveling grovelling man said…

“Please, please Miss Kenworthy, don’t report me, do anything you like, anything at all, I will comply with any request, just don’t report me! I beg you, please Miss, please!”

“Okay Mr.Reece. I won’t. After school meet me in here, I will decide on your fate as the day goes by. AND REMEMBER…you said ANYTHING! Now leave!”

Mr Reece spent the next hour as happy, cheerful and courteous as he had felt for years. Nothing was to much trouble for anyone. What a relief. But as the school clocks ticked along in unison a feeling of foreboding settled on him. What would she do?

After school he went to the same room, and walked in, head bowed in shame. She was stood there looking powerful. He had never felt so submissive in his life.

She beckoned him with her crooked finger. He walked like a naughty boy might to his Mummy, to have his bottom spanked.

“You have been a naughty boy Mr.Reece, and naughty boys get their naughty little bottoms punished. Come here!”

His manhood rose, she watched the tip of his cock swell, and smiled.

“Here is what we are going to do. I have seen you in your tennis kit, and must say that you keep trim Mr.Reece. I have it on good authority that the boys across town have to come for the cane in their P.E. outfit. Go and put it on….NOW!”

He trotted down the corridor to the staff room and put it on, then jogged back. He got his breath back, and entered the room, whereupon she told him to lock the door.

“Come here you naughty boy!”

He stood before her, meekly.

“I am going to punish you hard Mr.Reece.”

“Yes Miss Kenworthy.”

“I think we will have those shorts off boy!”

Trembling fingers undid his shorts and he removed them for his young Mistress.

She told him to go to the stool and bent to pick his discarded shorts up.

She gently placed them on a desk and turned to survey her quivering prey. Her pussy began to throb excitedly, the anticipation was lovely.

The feeling of being in control of what up until now had been a person in authority was a new experience to her, and she liked it. “Underpants down Mr Reece, bare your bottom for me!”

He lowered them without question. He was old, but in good shape. How she wished she was a teacher at the boys school, ‘just imagine’ she thought, ‘having one of those loud mouthed young tear-aways baring their quivering bottoms for me.

Then her thoughts went through a miriad of scenarios, and surprisingly mature men, proper men, with responsible jobs grovelling before her thrilled her to the core. It was almost like a mild orgasm.

It was wonderful. She looked at his bottom, bare. She looked at him, trembling. She began to talk, and instinctively, she did it rather well.

“You are a very naughty boy Mr Reece, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Call me Miss.”

“Yes Miss.”

Being called Miss excited her more. “And what do naughty boys get? Hmmm?”

“Spanked bottoms Miss.”

“Yes they do! They get really red sore bottoms, which stops them sitting down for ages don’t they?”

“Yes Miss.”

“And you, are a very….naughty…boy!”

She leaned in close to him and shouted…”Aren’t You!!!” It scared him, and surprised him. Her voice was full of authority.

He almost squealed…”Yes, yes Miss! I’m a naughty boy!”

THIS STORY IS UNDER CONSTRUCTION.

IT IS STRAIGHT OUT OF MY HEAD, AND WILL NEED EDITING. THINGS MIGHT CHANGE TOO, SO POP BY OFTEN!

The Masked Marauder

In a sleepy English town, called Highlikely all is not quite what it seems.

It is pretty without doubt, the people are happy living there, and care for the place they live in. All the usual things happen, summer fairs and fetes, grand Christmas Pantomimes and decorations, and the church oversees it all, under the guidance of Reverend Brown, who recently was bestowed a great honour.

As well as being the religious icon of the town, projecting an image of goodwill and heartfelt charity, he has just been given the honour of the Town Mayor.

Mrs Sidebottom was shocked, it was a two horse race she was desperate to win. It was a race that in all honesty the Reverend Brown would have been happy for her to win.

The truth is, she is a busybody, a very active member of the church, the font of all gossip, and… the leader of the church choir, which she runs like some sort of musical military boot camp!

One of the Nun’s at the local Catholic High School for Girls, Sister Samantha, has watched it all unfold with amusement. She helps with the choir, in fact, she helps with everything. To be exact about it, she is one of those people who hovers in the background making everything work, almost unnoticed. Apart from Reverend Brown, he does notice, and sister Samantha is glad he does, she likes him, and teaches his daughter.

To the village populous, and the church school, Sister Samantha has a warm and helpful reputation. But to any naughty girl at school, her reputation is of a strict disciplinarian. ‘Spare the rod, spoil the child.’ Were her by-words.

It has to be said, that Mrs Sidebottom produces excellent results. The choir is noted and respected, but other choirs say that there seems to be little in the way of fun. Many other choirs turn up to concerts and competitions doing modern songs, clapping and dancing even, often in costumes, and their choirs have beautiful names.

Where as the Highlikely Choir is quite staid and set in its ways, the Sidebottom way. Traditional in every way, ‘it was good enough for me as a girl!” Gertrude Sidebottom would always say, when asked for some sort of change.

This  mayoral election all happened two weeks ago, and Gertrude has accepted her defeat very well now. Things have got back to normal, and after all the talk of ‘who will be elected’ the townsfolk are back on their favourite topic…”who is the masked marauder?”

For a year or more people have fallen into traps, or been sent to somewhere nobody expected them, found their garden gnomes in odd places, and even had their front door locks glued up. Someone was having fun at other peoples expense, and the ‘other people’ did not like it!

Mrs Sidebottom in particular hated it all. And was on a mission, to find the culprit. You see, just before the election a crude drawing of her farting, as she leaned over in her chair was pinned to the church hall notice board, with words saying…’is this why she is called Miss Sidebottom…. Paaaaaarp!’

Ever since then she has eyed everyone with suspicion.

And things have got steadily worse. Silly drawings is one thing, but letting tyres down is silly and dangerous.

Having your milk and egg order changed from 2 pints and 6 eggs, to 20 pints and 6 dozen eggs causes inconvenience.

As for putting pretend notes of professed love through letterboxes to be found by angry wives or husband,well; that is beyond a joke!

Mrs Sidebottom kept a watchful eye at all times.

Sister Samantha had guiltily found it very funny indeed, and kept a copy of the drawing of Mrs Sidebottom letting rip, for her own amusement.

Reverend Brown had settled in to his new role, and quite liked the prospect of hosting functions, opening events and planting trees. Especially visits to schools, one in particular lay about a month ahead, the one his pride and joy went to.

Penelope Brown, his well behaved model of a daughter, went to Saint Lucy’s High School for Girls, she was Head Girl. Everyone looked to her as the girl they wished their daughter was like, or whom their son would eventually bring home as a girlfriend.

But one person was shrewd, and saw things other people didn’t. That was Sister Samantha, she could see right through Penelope’s ‘good little girl’ image, and instead she saw a scheming manipulative brat. Her right arm was itching to punish the girl on her bare bottom, severely! She would enjoy teaching her the error of her ways, but, until now, she had been elusive, and as slippery as an eel. Although she did not know for sure, she was almost certain that Penelope had got many a girl a bare bottom spanking or worse, the cane. She suspected that Penny, loved seeing them ‘get it’.

Sister Samantha was renowned as a ‘no nonsense’ disciplinarian. Reverend Brown knew this, and very often in his times of relaxation, imagined himself bent over before her, trousers down.

In the old Vicarage, Penny was busy doing her study, up in her room…allegedly!

Sat in her mask, looking in the mirror with an evil smile, she was plotting. Plotting the biggest embarrassment of Mrs Sidebottom’s life!

“Zee Masked Maraurder strikes again! They seek her here, they seek her there, but nobody is clever enough to catch zee elusive Masked Maraurder!” She laughed.

As  often happens in life, after a relatively quiet time socially, two things crop up on the same day. This happened to Penelope. The Summer Fete, and a concert by one of her favourite local boy bands, ‘The Fallen Angels’ were on the same day!

Because of his respected position in the community, Reverend Brown expected his dear daughter to once again show everyone just how lucky he was to have such a good girl, and told her to help the ladies on the cake stall, or look after the young children.

Penelope was devastated, but agreed happily. She knew she would think of a way out, or, to be more precise ‘The Masked Marauder’ would come up with a plan, and the plan she was plotting for Mrs Sidebottom would be perfect, just a few little adjustments and the Masked Maraurder might be able to go to the ball!

She was not going to miss the concert if she could possibly help it, it was even more exciting now, because she heard on the local radio that everyone was attending in white, and the lighting effects were going to make them all look fabulous. Not only that, but they were being filmed for the local T.V. Station. She could be on the Telly!

She imagined herself  as one of ‘The Fallen Angels’ …in a mask, of course!

At school the next day, four of her friends were off ill. A ‘bug’ was going around, people were being sick or having to run to the toilet urgently. She came home feeling a bit off it, and her Daddy told her to stay at home the next day. Her tummy ache never materialized into a full blown stomach upset, but the idea it gave her, developed into a wonderful plan, fitting into her idea she was already plotting for Mrs Sidebottom perfectly. The Masked Maraurder spent the day planning and plotting.

With a  well made plan, (developed over the day), in her mind, Lucy met two of her friends later, she felt sure they would accompany her to the concert and help her plan work.

She was so annoyed when she found out that they too were having to stay and help. One of them, Kate had been asked to help out in the crèche looking after the toddlers. Penny told them of her cunning plan, and asked them to help. She also revealed her identity to them, proudly showing them her mask!

They were thrilled to know the identity of the masked marauder!

The plan in Lucy’s mind was formulated to include recent events, namely the bout of tummy upsets! Her Daddy was prone to constipation, and had a good supply of laxative powders. Perhaps, if they volunteered to bake cakes, such as butterfly buns, muffins, and cup cakes. They could put laxative in the mix, the children would soon feel poorly and if they made sure some of the Mummy’s staying at the event ate some, then they would feel ill, and leave, taking the children with them. This way, at least one member of almost every family would feel ill.  News would spread, and the cake store, along with the crèche would have to be closed to stop the outbreak spreading.

Charlotte and Kate thought it brilliant, they all hugged. They were ‘going to the concert’ after all!!!

Later that evening Sister Samantha was dusting the pews of the church, talking to her favourite man, the Reverend Brown.

In walked the three girls, asking the Reverend if they could bake cakes together for the stalls.

Daddy was so proud of his daughter and friends, and agreed, singing their virtues to Sister Samantha, who smiled politely and thanked the girls.

It was at this moment that the first error of ‘The Masked Maraurder’ and her accomplishes occurred, it was down to Charlotte, who inadvertently dropped one of the concert flyers. It fluttered to the floor as they turned to leave, following Reverend Brown and his ‘oh so perfect’ daughter.

This was the moment the plan, in its infancy….SHATTERED…

Sister Samantha picked it up, and immediately saw the date, the same date as the Church Fete. She saw it as divine intervention, it was time to unmask the naughty girl in the mask, and reveal her identity, and bare bottom, to all. All she had to do was wait, and watch. As sure as God made little green apples, these three girls would be found out and punished.

She watched them leave, enjoying seeing them so happy. ‘Ignorance is bliss girls, off you go, dig yourself a very deep hole and walk right into it!”

The girls had great fun as they happily ‘baked’ their plan one evening, a couple of days before the Church Fete.

Penny took care of adding the secret ingredient. She emptied four sachets into each mix. The cup cakes, muffins, and butterfly buns were armed and dangerous! All ready to deliver to the home of Mrs.Sidebottom in the morning.

The next morning came and the cakes and pastries were all delivered to the church hall, Sister Samantha and Mrs Sidebottom were as usual at the hub of things, directing people here and there. When Mrs Sidebottom took the cakes, she immediately ate two, and another secretly, saying  that the cakes could not have come at a better time, she was starving, and her tummy empty, because she had been so busy.

The day was hot and sunny, and it was soon obvious that things like ice cream and strawberries and fresh cream, along with cold drinks were going to be most popular. Their plan began to fail.

Some other girls from school came along to the fete, all dressed in white, happily telling everyone, especially Penny, that they were off to the concert. Penny was seething, and quickly came up with a plan to spoil things, by shouting happily, (to disguise her anger) ‘Hey girls, I wish I was going too, but I have to stop here, why not take some of these with you, for your tea, they are not selling too well and the heat will affect them soon.’

The girls took them, and all said how well she had taken not being able to go to the concert.

Sister Samantha as usual took everything in, observing. She was pleased to see Penny being so grown up. Maybe she was not as bad as she thought.

The afternoon, and early evening rolled on and her cakes were still hardly touched, but then people started to feel like tea and cake instead of strawberries and ice cream, as the day turned just a little cooler. Although it was to late for the concert, she could ‘get even’ and the ones she targeted were the members of the choir, starting with Mrs Sidebottom.

“Hello Mrs Sidebottom, my cakes were not wanted much with the hot weather so I am giving them away, would you like a couple?”

Mrs Sidebottom could not turn down such an offer, her appetite had returned a little. She shouted the others over and between them had quite a little feast, complimenting Penny on her baking skills and her good nature.

Sister Samantha was close by, and looked on with interest and curiosity.

The evening choir concert began, and with great style. Penny, sat with Kate and Charlotte, watched with her camera phones at the ready. Soon she saw Mrs Sidebottom begin to struggle, then rapidly lose control, having to run from the stage, red faced as loud long lasting farts issued forth!

Penny and her friends almost thought that this was better than the concert they really wanted to see, and rolled about laughing and pointing.

Sister Samantha saw this and it did not take her long to figure out what had happened. She made it her mission to follow the girls especially Penelope, as often as she could, to prove they were so naughty.

She did not have to wait long at all. Next morning she went to visit Mrs Sidebottom, and found out that nearly all the choir had been violently ill, all dashing to the toilet every few minutes to evacuate their bowels.

Providence struck, the Reverend Brown asked his daughter to also go and see Mrs Sidebottom and to take flowers, along with the remaining cakes.

Sister Samantha told Mrs Sidebottom of her suspicions and when Penny arrived, asked if she could stay to listen, and then on Penny’s departure, she would follow her. Mrs Sidebottom agreed, and a suitable hiding place for Sister Samantha was found.

Penelope came in looking and sounding like a sympathetic concerned visitor, with a pretty bunch of flowers. “Oh my Daddy told me of your illness, and I was so pleased he asked me to come and see you, how ghastly it sounds and quite a few others are poorly too I understand.”

Sister Samantha stood still listening and shaking her head in disbelief.

“Let me put these in some water Mrs Sidebottom, shall I make you anything?”

She asked for a cup of tea and maybe an arrowroot biscuit, which her father ways said was good for an upset bowel or tummy. “You’ll find them in the pantry!”

Penny went into the kitchen, and both Mrs Sidebottom and Sister Samantha followed. They suspected she might do something to the drink, but what transpired was worse and could not have worked better.

There was a wash basket full of clothes, and on the top were a pair of Mrs.Sidebottoms rather large knickers! Penny put the kettle on and as she waited, she spotted them. To say she found them amusing would be a great understatement! She put them on the table and took photos, then, as she reached for the biscuits she saw a packet of chocolate ones. She took one out and smeared chocolate on the seat of the pants, to make it look like Mrs.Sidebottom had had an accident.

She rolled them up, and sent some pictures to her two co-conspirators. Messages flew back and forth, Penny giggling, and her two friends laughing uproariously.

She was about to mash the tea when Sister Samantha and Mrs Sidebottom walked to stand behind her and coughed. “Pass that phone over young lady! And my knickers!” Said Mrs.Sidebottom loudly.

Penny stood in shock, caught, and with the evidence in her hands. It was worse (or better!) than what the two ladies thought, because evidence of all her previous pranks were there to be found.

The phone and knickers were snatched from her grasp.

“Right madam, send a message to your two friends to meet you at the church hall, now!”

Penny was in a panic, she knew the game was up and did exactly what was asked, hoping in some way, that obeying meekly, might save her.

Sister Samantha marched the poor girl, crying, all the way to the curch hall.

Within ten minutes, all were assembled. The three girls stood shame faced and crying, both of Penny’s friends saying it was all Penny’s idea. Which of course she could not deny, the evidence on the phone proved everything.

Sister Samantha suggested dealing with this like the school would, with corporal punishment, pointing out what the bible says about ‘sparing the rod spoils the child’.

Penny was told to stand and wait for the cane, the other two were told to expect a hard prolonged, bare bottom spanking apiece!

The two girls begged not to be spanked, and Penny laughed. This was noted by the girls, who were wishing they had never joined in her silly ideas!

Without further ado, both girls went over their knees and were soundly spanked.

Once again the girls could hear Penny giggling at their plight, they both began to despise her, and decided there and then not to be her friend any more.

It has to be said that the girls took it badly and with great fuss! Kicking, squealing out …sorry! Sorry! Smacks echoed around the room for ten minutes, mixed in with the regular laughing of Penny.

The girls at that moment hated her. Red hot searing pain in the cheeks, and all she could do was laugh, as they kicked and wriggled!

It was noted by everyone. Not just the girls.

Their spankings came to an end and both were told to stand before the fireplace.

Then to Penny’s dismay, Sister Samantha pulled out a cane. “I think a jolly good thrashing on Penny’s bare bottom is needed, and you two can take photos and post them to everyone! Just like she has done to everyone in the village! She laughed at you the whole way through your spankings, so you two have our permission to exact your revenge!”

“Nooooo noooo, not photos…. Noooooooooooo!!!”

The girls ridiculed her, and begged Sister Samantha and Mrs Sidebottom to punish her as hard as they could.

“Oh we intend to, she will not sit down for a week! Now bare your naughty bottom for a trashing young lady!” Said Sister Samantha.

Penny was then made to present her bare bottom and received the promised 36 hard strokes on the bare,  twenty four for the offence, and twelve more were added for being so spiteful to her ‘friends’.

How the girls laughed when they heard the sentence passed.

And how they ridiculed her hopping and screaming at every searing, swishing, cutting stroke!

Penelope was made to kneel on an arm chair at first, her bare bottom poking out, which the girls loved and laughed at.

The severity of the violent swishing strokes surprised and shocked them, at first. So too did Penelope’s squeals!

‘Yeeeeeeooooooooowwwwwoooooooohhhhhhh! I’m sorry girls, I’m…”

swiiiiiish, crack!

“Oooooooooohhhhhhhhhowwwwwwwowwwww!!!!”

Then she was made to bend over the chair as they took it in turns to thrash her hard.

Then, in the traditional naught bare bottomed schoolgirl pose she stood bent over.

The girls made comments, and giggled at her plight the whole way through her painful experience.

“Oh we are going to watch you get it good and hard Penny!”

“Yes, we are going to watch you jump and dance, and laugh at you as you do so, for being so spiteful with us!”

Imagine how it feels for naughty Penny, her secret out, her bottom bare and being thrashed. Knowing that photos of her caned bare bottom will be all over the village! Jumping and squealing in extreme pain, but no sympathy, no escape, just ridicule…the more it hurts, the more discomfort she shows, the harder they cane and the more they laugh!!

Even after the caning, they allowed the girls to study the cane marks close up!

“Right girls,come along, have a good look in close up what a naughty sobbing little girls thrashed bottom looks like! And remember to take a photo, and tell all your friends how badly she took it…squealing, hopping, and begging for it to stop.”

“Oh yes Miss, thank you Miss. Look at that stripe! look at this one!”

Each with a painful prod….”owwwwwwwww! Oooooooooooooh!”

Soon photos appeared everywhere, notice boards, bus stops, and school windows.

This one to be precise!

Penny learned her lesson!

THE END

The Unusual Punishment of a Naughty Victorian Maid

The girl had become somewhat lax in her duties, and her Mistress had decided that at the next sign of her lackadaisical ways she would take action. She had watched her closely, and knew that the dreamy girl often rested in the study.

She understood that being a maid was a busy job, but she knew that the girl was taking liberties. She needed reining in.

Mistress found her asleep on a chaise lounge, when she should have been beeswaxing the wood in the room. Lady Kenworthy seized her opportunity and pulled out her riding crop from behind her back. “Caught you!”

The girl, still half asleep was taken aback, and stood up quickly.

Lady Kenworthy briskly pulled the little rocking horse, which was hers as a young girl, out from the place it stood, often with an aspidistra on top. It had great sentimental value, and an erotic past.

You see, it was on this little horse at a tender age, that Lady Kenworthy discovered the delights of rocking back and forth on it with a little extra pressure on her pussy. Indeed, her first orgasm was achieved on it, and her second third and fourth on the same day!

This punishment was not an impulsive action on the part of Lady Kenworthy, she had thought long and hard over the last few weeks, and fantasised about spanking her maid to orgasm on it!

“imagine that!” She thought to herself, and last night had achieved the climax of self arousal thinking about what was quite possibly going to happen, right now.

“Right young lady! (The maid was only three years younger than her Mistress, but such was the way of things in 1874) ….You have a choice. You can either accept corporal punishment, on my beloved Neddy here, or leave. But one thing is for sure, you are not going to carry on in this ‘come day go day’ manner any longer! What is it to be? Hmmmm??”

The girl said she did not want to leave.

And so she began to straddle the little horse.

“Lift your uniform and petticoats, I want that bottom bare!”

‘….awwww, yes, yes Mistress.’

Holding her under garments up, Mistress began to lower the girl’s bloomers.

To bare a fine plump victorian rump, just ripe for a thrashing!

The sight of those soft round globes of delicate flesh aroused Lady Kenworthy, and she spanked the girl.

Then, pushing the girl down, she told her to rock, as she whacked the crop on her fine buttocks repeatedly. The girl galloped like she was on a country chase!

Soon, Lady Kenworthy was swinging the crop with all her might!

The girl squealed and bucked, her back pressing against the moist excited pussy of her Mistress, whilst her own dripping wet slit pushed hard on to the now warm smooth mahogany horse. Rocking violently beneath her.

Both reached a shuddering orgasm together. And the horse slowed to a trot.

Both knew without doubt that the other had climaxed.

As Lady Kenworthy stood, she knew she had to stamp her authority over her girl quickly….

“I have not finished with you yet, pull your bloomers up, and get over my knee, right now!”

The crop was viscious in its landing on the rump of her maid, as her fine bottom pushed through the open back bloomers.

A lesson was learned by both.

Naughty behaviour has its rewards….a magnificent orgasm!

The girl developed into an extremely naughty maid, and Mistress was so pleased!