Category Archives: PHOTO STORIES

A Convenient Chair Series of Photo Sets/Story… Part – 2

To see the previous post click here…

A Convenient Chair Series of Photo Sets/Story… Part – 1

continued…

Samantha and Kate were quite transfixed watching the arousal of Charlotte grow, as of course was theirs. They crouched down for a better view…

Charlotte lifted from the convenient chair slightly…

It was time to let the wet lollipop meet the even wetter pussy…

She patted her pussy lips with it, it stuck and the feeling of twirling it away excited her more.

Soon the head of the lollipop was fully in her tightest folds twirling and gently tapping her clit. The sticky pull away from her clitoris thrilled her, she began to moan sensually.

She shoved it right in and out, her lips opening and closing quickly soon brought an orgasm, and another as her friends looked on.

“Ooooh that’s sexy.” Said Kate simply.

“Not fucking half it is!” Added Samantha rudely.

“Taste it.” Said Charlotte as she offered it.

“Go on then, give me a taste.” asked a pussy playing Samantha.

“Me next.” Added an also fiddling Kate.

more to come…

Asa

Contributors Day Number 114 ~ Anna and I ~ Part 2

to read the rest of Robbie’s work, including part one of this, click here…

Contributor ~ Robbie

Anna and I, continued

….Part Two

After what seem an eternity there were footsteps down the corridor and Miss Kenworthy appeared in the doorway,

“Are you ready, Florence?”

“Yes, Miss Kenworthy. I am ready.”

Actually I was not sure what being ready meant in my case. Being an adult did not excuse me from the fundamental rule the school had about baring, and I had just signed away any thought of exemption. But should I be ready bared or should I let Miss Kenworthy have the pleasure of exposing me? In the end I chose the second option, and was wearing only a cotton top and panties as Miss Kenworthy lowered the cane from the hook.

Miss Kenworthy summoned me to her, put the cane down for a moment and eased her hands into my panties, then lowered them so slowly and sensuously, her elegant fingers lingering on my skin as she slid them round on my bottom cheeks, that I felt breathless with anticipation. Once I had felt her hands against me, I was in a state of irrevocable submission. She left her hands there a long time, then slowly withdrew them andgestured towards the bench. I lay along it, my bare bottom a clear target tingling uncontrollably in position.  She picked up the cane and lay it across my bottom for a while in the way she always did. (Anna told me that this had been the moment the tears welled up for her, and so it was with me.) 

A few minutes later – though it seemed an eternity – and sixcracks of the cane later, I was overcome with tears, as matron had predicted. Now I understood how my contemporaries had spoken so fearfully and reverentially of an imminent visit to Miss Kenworthy. I have been caned by other disciplinarians (I may tell you about them some time), but these strokes were like nothing before. Another six followed – after the pause, these are the most painful. She delivered every stroke with a quick sharp flick, which with a thin cane produces such an intense sting that it is impossible to remain silent. The first few strokes each drew a gasp, the next a groan, and in the final six a series of cries that must have been heard all over the building (as I later learned, they were), as a warning to all of the dire consequences of displeasing the headmistress.

The end of the punishment was abrupt – as it always is – and (as I could see in one of the mirrors) Miss Kenworthy stood looking calmly – even solemnly – down and holding the cane with both hands across her front.

The pain was extreme, the sense of shame overwhelming. 

Finally Miss Kenworthy spoke. 

“You will stay here until tomorrow. You will be alone and the normal rules will apply. It has to be that way, and I will leave the cane here. Your next punishment will be at 9 a.m. sharp. So be ready for me. It will be the birch, and there will bewitnesses.”

Witnesses! The presence of an audience, and the appearance of the birch with all the symbolism it embodied, would deepen the shaming even further.

She put the cane back on the hook and briskly left the room. I was already shaking in a convulsion of tears.

A little later matron came into the room quietly and found me lying naked face down on my bed, sobbing.

“I heard it all, Flo. It sounded strict and now I can see it was. I’ve brought the cream.”

“Oh, matron. She totally became the headmistress again. I could sense the metamorphosis as soon as she saw my submissive posture and took the cane down from its hook.”

Matron looked sombre.

“You remember Flo, when the hook was empty, you knew that someone might be being caned.”

“And you listened out for the strokes. Sometimes they never came.”

“Like lightning without the thunder.”

I was across Matron’s lap while she applied the cream. As she was finishing I wanted so much for her not to miss the chance to transform her rubbing into the spanking I craved. I must have communicated this to her with my unmistakeably suggestive body movements because magically after the tiniest of pauses I felt the first smack – and it was heaven.There are few sensations as exquisite as that produced by a firm hand brought down a few times (or more than a few) against the whole surface of a recently caned petite bottom such as mine, just hard enough to sting slightly without quite being painful and administered in time with a strict scolding. Matron could be strict. And she could really spank. It stung after the cane but I loved it.  I mentally counted every one of the twenty smacks. I murmured “don’t stop” and waited for more. “More tomorrow” was her only reply.

It left Matron with sticky hands from the cream. She had used both hands in her usual manner: when one grew warm the other brought a frisson of coldness, but it required a deft movement to avoid both of us tumbling to the floor, which would rather have broken the spell! (This did not happen, although it did once or twice on other occasions I could tell you about.)

She went to rinse her hands and was soon back, looking thoughtful.

“Miss Kenworthy wants me to be available in the morning. There is a special bench, and I will be needed to hold you in position.”

“For the birch?”  I did not need an answer.

*****

I did not sleep well that night. Matron’s cream soothed a little but I was still very sore as I lay naked on my front. I had not felt like this for a long time, and the feeling brought back to me all the emotions that had lain quiescent over the years. I slipped on a tee shirt and lay in a foetal position.

I managed to doze for a while in the small hours, until the alarm of my mobile sprang to life and dragged me into consciousness. With the horror of sudden remembrance I was aware that in a few hours I would face another – even more severe – punishment.

There was a knock on  the door. I thought, surely not yet? But it was matron, holding a slipper.

“Some of the girls liked me to give them a warm-up before they were punished. It helps with the birch, just a little. I did it with Anna. Miss Kenworthy has agreed ….”

Anna hadn’t told me about the warm-up. Evidently some of the girls went to see Matron for the slipper even when they didn’t need to, because it soothed them. 

Later Anna told me that Miss Kenworthy instructed matron to administer the slipper as it would be extra painful on a bottom recently caned and would intensify the effect of the first strokes of the birching to come. But that was not my experience and I am sure Anna was out to tease. 

“Thank you, Matron.” I decided to comply, lay on my front and pulled my tee shirt up.

Matron slippered me beautifully, all on the same spot and hard enough for an acute sting and a sensation in my genital areathat brought me deliciously to the brink of orgasm without spilling over. 

Then I remembered that matron had slippered me once when I was a girl at the school. I had missed a dental check and theschool was extremely strict about such matters. I had bunked off and was found hiding in an empty storeroom. Matron offered me the choice of a bare-bottom spanking from her or being taken to Miss Kenworthy. She knew, of course, which I would choose. 

Matron said “there, the birch won’t feel so bad now. And yes, I do remember.”

“I cried, more for the shaming ….”

“That’s the way it is, Florence. That’s what corporal punishment is all about.”

Matron was still in the room when Miss Kenworthy arrived. She looked hard at me. Her transformation to headmistress was complete.

“Come with me Florence.”

*****

As Miss Kenworthy led me along the corridor I surmised that she was taking me to a punishment room, which would be better equipped for what was to come.

We stopped outside the dreaded PR1, famous for the cracks of the cane that could be heard during the punishment hour – famous too as the place where occasionally the birch wasadministered at the end of the day – always with a notice pinned to the door naming the miscreant and the offence.

Miss Kenworthy took a key, unlocked the door, and went in.

“Wait outside a moment, Florence.” 

I waited a long time; I am sure it was an important part of the punishment. As I stood there some girls and a young woman (surely it was Charlotte!) came to the door and were let in. They were surely the witnesses. So indeed, I was to be formally birched.

A while later the door opened, and Miss Kenworthy appeared.She held the notice in her hand and pinned it carefully, making sure it was straight. It read “Florence Park, would-be escapee”. (Please don’t laugh at my signpost of a name, I have been teased about it often enough by Anna.)

“Come in now Florence. We are ready for you.”

There in the room, in a semicircle, stood the girls and women I had seen. (Yes, it was Charlotte. I forced a weak smile but she was looking down.) Matron stood in the middle of the circle, and before them was the bench, long, low, with a raised middle section whose purpose was clear. To the left, at the side of the room, stood Miss Kenworthy, holding the birch. It was made of six willow twigs (in season again; I checked the number) and was expertly bound with twine. This was an implement that would not fail and come apart as some notoriously had in the past; it would last out until it had done its work and I had felt it maybe fifty or a hundred times (in the event, nearer the latter than the former).

On a table by the window lay the punishment book, open at the page that recorded my name. There was a pen beside it, ready for the record to be completed in due course.

The birching bench awaited me. I wore only a shirt that didnot reach my middle, so that my bottom was completely exposed. It was already reddened from the slipper that matron had used on me. The discipline team had laid a blanket along the top of the bench to protect my front; obviously no such protection was offered for my other side, which tingled with vulnerability.

I had seen the bench in use for Lucy and knew what I had to do. I walked over to it, got into position beside it, then lifted myself on to the top part, put my legs over and slid down so that my bottom was on the raised part halfway along (this isapparently called the support). After a while Charlotte (I think it was) came round and raised the support to its highest position, recommended for the most effective application of the birch.

Miss Kenworthy began the ritual. “You will receive about ahundred strokes Florence; I will continue the punishment until I judge that you have been punished enough according to your demeanour and condition. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Miss Kenworthy.”

“The strokes will be slow and steady – about two a minute. They will all be on your bottom. You may request a pause by raising your hand upright. You will be allowed two pauses and these will last for 30 seconds. Other than that the strokes will continue until I decide to stop. Appeals for the punishment to stop will be ignored. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Miss Kenworthy.”

“The punishment will last for about an hour. It is extremely important that you do not interrupt, although of course you may cry and make any sounds in reaction to being punished. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Miss Kenworthy.”

“The witnesses are here to observe the punishment but will not be involved in administering it. I alone will be birchingyou. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Miss Kenworthy.”

Miss Kenworthy smiled that special smile of hers that presaged a painful outcome.

“In a moment you will raise your right arm. When you are ready to receive your punishment you will lower it and I will begin. At that point you will be subject to the rules I have mentioned. If you break any of these rules, or show bad behaviour, the punishment may be extended or given on the backs of your thighs. This is extremely painful. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Miss Kenworthy.”

“Now raise your arm.”

My nerves had left me too weak to make that simple movement without effort. I raised my arm slowly, pointing to the high ceiling of the building, then after a pause I lowered it. The point of no return.

I felt the willow twigs being placed on me, and I felt them being raised. I waited for them to fall again, but instead I felt them being brushed slowly back and forth then being tapped several times. Then just as I was losing concentration and beginning to wonder if the exercise was after all just an elaborate hoax, and maybe I would be released amid hugs and laughter, the first stroke came all of a sudden, spreading itself across my skin, taking my breath away. 

It is difficult to describe what a birching is like to anyone who has not experienced one. Lucy and Anna had both told me how the deceptive first strokes were followed by a rapidly intensifying crescendo of pain as the twigs did their work right across both cheeks. I was sobbing before we were halfway through. Then, just as I thought I could not bear any more, the strokes came harder and faster. I shrieked so hard that Miss Kenworthy paused for a moment. But only a moment. The birching continued. I was determined not to request the pauses as I was sure they would only make it seem worse. Then finally, as I was on the point of shrieking my repentance and reaching for a hand to hold, … it stopped.

“That is enough Florence.” Miss Kenworthy spoke kindly. “You have received over a hundred strokes and have been immensely brave. Lie there for a while and then you will have an hour’s quiet time. Matron will rub in some cream later.”One of the girls came over to me and held my hand. It wassuch a sweet gesture and it touched me deeply.

While this happened, Miss Kenworthy walked over to the table by the window, perused the open punishment book for a while, then wrote in it the record of my punishments. She always regarded the punishment record as a private matter and offenders were not permitted to see it; but despite this harshrule I later had a chance to read the entry:

Florence Park, twelve severe strokes of the cane and a hundred of the birch with her bottom bared, administered according to school rules as retrospective discipline long overdue for lapses from her usual good behaviour.

Like Miss Kenworthy herself, it was strict but fair.

I had never known Miss Kenworthy so strict. I now realised that I had indeed been her favourite and like all favourites needed to be punished the hardest. I knew that she loved me. 

The dorm now had a few more girls staying and I was given a private room. I was glad to be spared the need to give an explanation of my situation. (Later Anna told me that she heard from Charlotte (I wonder when?) about how severe my birching had been. Anna sent me flowers and said we must meet. Of course we must meet – maybe the three of us.)

There was another reason for the privacy. That evening Miss Kenworthy came to my room. I slept soundly that night.

*****

Some time later, Miss Kenworthy contacted me again. When we met we spoke and acted like the adults we were, as though the events in the schoolroom had never happened. I supposed that for Miss Kenworthy, her resolution had been achieved.

For Anna too, though for me not quite. My feelings of submission have subsided, but flare up intermittently.

Finally I made a decision. I would meet again once a year, on the anniversary of my birching, with Miss Kenworthy. And her bowls. I wrote to her and made the proposal. She has notyet replied, but I am sure she will agree. Anna thinks so too, and we are the best of friends, despite her bouts of mischief – which will get her into serious trouble one day.

Meanwhile the Punishment Book, which has so many stories to tell,  is back in its drawer – for now.

All the best, hope you enjoyed it.

Robbie.

Project Number 2 ~ Part One

Have a look at number one, it will save me a long explanation again…

Project Number One…

I am now doing the same with my girls for when they have enrolled at Mrs Wainwrights.

Look at the two posts prior to this about the ‘Convenient Chair’ and this…

Mistress Wainwright’s House of Correction (for women) … Is open.

IF, my girls get accepted, the first day will have a huge initiation spanking chase, where the Domme’s dressed in green and brown chase the subs, in white with bare bottoms.

I have been so busy on AI. You know when you go up an escalator with mirrors on each side, and everyone just disappears into infinity? Well my AI Folder is looking similar.

I now need my girls running around trying to escape!

As before, in project one, I have made a video, and will pause it to take stills. Here is the video, it is fun, and shows a typical day at my studio, happy girls laughing….oh, and being spanked of course!

I have taken a few videos, I will do some at their houses, and gardens too.

Here is a sample of a still…

What fun I am going to have in my study, picking these!

Then the girls will need cutting out and pasting in..

And this is only one story! My beautiful dreamy days in my study also go into infinity…if I live a few more years….oh I do hope so! I have so much to do!

It saddens me to think of all my unused AI’s, photos, and videos, first gathering dust, and then one day going into a bin somewhere!

Like the legend of all the Ostra Negatives in boxes somewhere….or thrown away. Who knows? Rumour had it that Hitler ended up with them! After I have died, I really hope I find Mr.Biederer and his models…and when my girls arrive, we can all join together! Now that…is my idea of heaven!

more to come…

Asa

A Convenient Chair Series of Photo Sets/Story… Part – 1

See Photo Set 569, for an explanation.

A Convenient Chair…Photo Set 569

As we walked into the Studio to sit down and make a plan, Charlotte pulled a lollipop out of her pocket! “Oooooh look what I have just found!”

We all chuckle and I beam, “Charlotte! You are bloody wonderful, you have just inspired me! Can I have it?”

They all watch me with a pen knife trying to open the damn thing and as I tell them. They agree to my idea, and their eager eyes say they are excited! I tell them we are working on…

Mistress Wainwright’s House of Correction (for women) … Is open.

…and ask them to dress in White Shirts, White Knee Socks, and Shoes.

Remember…

Three Naughty Teachers Share a Passion

Well this follows on. They have been meeting regularly and spanking. Samantha has shown them an advert for ‘Mrs.Wainwright’s House of Correction’, and has written saying she wants to join and might have two friends who want to come.

Mrs.Wainwright said they have to prove they are naughty enough first. Samantha tells her they are all teachers and that they are meeting in their ‘Wainwright Naughty Girls Outfits’ at school, this weekend, in her Study. And she will send photos.

So, armed with a lollipop and a ‘convenient chair’, they begin.

Firt of all you need to know that the Domme’s at ‘Mrs.Wainwright’s’, wear pale green and brown.

… For successful applicants it will all start with a ‘Spanking Chase’. The Domme’s chase the subs and spank them when found, even if they have been found ten times! It goes on all day, until the last one is found.

I have been making many AI pictures for it…

Hence my girls rather sexy outfits…

So this is what they are sending to see if they are naughty enough….A Convenient Chair and a Lollipop by Charlotte, Kate and Samantha….Part 1

We love lollipops and are making a new flavour.

“They take some bloody undoing! Is it naughty to swear?”

“I bet it fucking is!” Pipes up Charlotte.

“Have we been approved yet?” Giggles Kate

“Mmmmmm, smells nice, but it needs more OOOOOOOH I think!” Laughs Charlotte.

“And more stickiness!”Kate suggests.

“Maybe a few pubic hair stuck on for good measure!” Adds Samantha.

“Yes, our secret ingredient….” Kate says coyly. “Pubes!”

“And cum juice!” Samantha whispers getting very much into the mood.

“Now we have to add the extra ingredients.” Charlotte says in her poshest voice, as she stretches over the convenient chair.

“Our favourite job!” chimes in Kate.

“Come over here girls, it’s time to harvest the crops!” Charlotte shouts.

Continues in Part Two…

A Convenient Chair Series of Photo Sets/Story… Part – 2

Asa

Pom Pom Part -2, of another lovely spanking story from ‘B’

To read the rest of ‘B’ work, click on ‘Links and Contributors’ then on ‘Contributors’ and scroll down to her page.

POM POM – PART TWO


I slept well, and awoke with the scent of grilled lamb chops. I had a look outside and saw by the pool Uncle Amias flipping burgers on a large barbecue while Aunty Angelina was setting up a buffet with a huge salad. Their girls were wearing jeans shorts, and I knocked on Loulou’s door and shouted, “Rise and shine!” Then I had a quick shower and also dressed with jeans shorts.

I joined our adopting American family by their pool and apologized for having slept till 11 am. “…Loulou will be down in five minutes.”

Uncle Amias queried, “Loulou ?”

“Yes, Louise is called Loulou and am called Babette instead of Elisabeth…”

Aunty Angelina chimed, “We also have nicknames for our girls, Belinda is ‘the naughty one’ or Belle, and Lilla is Lalla or Lilly.”

Aunt Angelina added, “Or our best behaved girl !”

Belinda laughed and asked, “Who’s the naughtier one?”

Loulou had joined us and chanted, “Babette! Three fessées this last month!”

I blushed, and Belinda gave me high five!

We helped our friends with clearing up after the barbecue and Lilla announced, “We are awaited at the Russel Stars’ clubhouse for your welcome party, and we have to change into something more formal such as school skirts for you, and cheer team uniform for us…”

On the curbside in front of the house was an old 4 doors Jeep convertible. “What kind of cars have you got back home ?”

“I have a classic chick car, a Beetle convertible.”

Loulou added, “I have a very French Citroen deux cheveaux.”

I echoed, “She’s such a snob ! The Deuche is no longer produced, and a good reconditioned one costs as much as a new WV !”

We parked in front of the Russel Stars Clubhouse. It was a two floor building with colonnades on each side of the double door entrance. Inside, after a, vestibule it was a grand hall and the whole team was in uniforms and assembled with its coaches. We were impressed ! A team of eighteen girls when back home our team is only eight. We were honored by the French tricolor standing along side the lone star flag and the Russel Stars pennant.

A G.I. Jane like lady welcomed us, “Bienvenue, I am the head coach, and these are my assistants…” A tall girl from the team stepped forward, “…and this is Veronica the team captain. “There’s no tryout as you were scouted, and your team won the French national as well as the EU championship a year ago…”

She observed a few seconds of silence with a huge teasing smile. Belinda and Lilla were giggling as well as a number of girls. We were quite curious of what was next…

G.I. Jane added, “You have to be baptized before you are allowed to wear the Russel Stars’ uniform. According to our tradition it is for our latest newbie to be doing the honor. Abigail please step forward…”

With a purposefully wicked smile she pulled from behind her back a big old fashion school paddle decorated with silver stars. We silently mouthed ohs and ahs.

“Elisabeth and Louise please kiss Miss Paddle…” Abigail presented it to us and we respectfully kissed it.

“Now Miss Paddle will return your greetings with kissing your butts ! Raise your school skirts, keep your hands on your knees, Abigail please spank them as hard as you can!”

“WHACK”

“OUCH!!”

“And another one for good measure !”

“CRACK”

“OUCH!!!!”

That paddle had a fierce bite although Abigail didn’t have the swing of a tennis star. I watched Loulou, saw that she was still in position and not rubbing. I also remained in position, and resisted the urge to rub my fiery bum.

Miss G.I. Jane laughed, “Rub your butts silly Stars !”

This new Russel Star rubbed her bottom with another convincing, “OUCH!”

Then she told us. “There’s only two such old paddles at Russel, one with the College’s Principal and one with me. Although you are, if warranted, liable to have both of them applied to your nates, we usually first use a belt…”

I couldn’t figure if that was a blessing…

She sternly added, “Every month I will review your scholarly assessment. If you have less than 70% you will be punished in front of the team, and contrary to today it will be on the bare !”

We blushed, and I gulped…

Then we were both given a team sports bag with our uniforms and ordered to change, “The locker room is this way…”

In the bag we discovered sports bra, ankle and knee socks, all white. There was several uniforms with pleated or straight skirts or very short shorts. They were white with red and blue trimmings, or blue with white and red trims. The knickers or panties as they call them in the USA were white or red or blue. We had seen that today the team was wearing the white uniform and dressed similarly.

We returned to the assembly hall. Miss Coach slowly walked around us inspecting our uniforms. She raised our skirts and saw that we were wearing red knickers matching our well reddened derrieres. She ordered, “Abigail turn around and lift your skirt to show them your panties…”

We saw that she was wearing red knickers and breathed a sigh or relief. It was a short one! G.I. Jane bellowed, “Girls with red butts wear white knickers! Go and change! Double quick! We want to see what you can do…”

We ran, changed and returned…

Babette and Loulou

To be continued…

./.

Oaks and Pines free role play game for adults

You are invited to play with us !

We have a new website !
https://oaks-and-pines.com/

You will find an Application Form in the pages of our blog at https://oandpspankingstories.blogspot.com/
Please complete that form and send it to oaksandpines@hotmail.com

Mistress Wainwright’s House of Correction (for women) … Is open.

In the peaceful countryside of Derbyshire, England, a group of retired school teachers and Headmistresses have set up a business to meet the needs of hundreds and thousands of women with a need to be spanked in safety, by other women. And occasionally perhaps spank.

These are women who, because of age and experience have more in the way of ‘life skills’. They have all had many years experience of corporal punishment, especially with naughty school girls.

They advertised, and the response blew them away, they just could not keep up with demand!

They have pooled their resources, and decided to form a Spanking Commune. The matriarch and original developer of the idea is a Miss Wainright.

This is her putting a client in one of her now famous ‘unusual spanking positions’.

Bondage is popular, but by no means top of the list. To accommodate the more adventurous a man known to you all as the Reverend, is busy using his woodworking skills to build the many designs the women are coming up with.

Ll the women wear the same uniform and outfits for the girls that do not bring one are often very similar. A pale green top and brown skirt. They wanted to look professional and approachable.

I will now show you many of the visits to their Victorian Town House, just on the outskirts of Matlock.

oh…..a note.

If you want to attend and worry about getting excited, don’t be. They get excited too and are experts at relaxation and lowering of stress….wink wink.

more to come

Asa

Saint Helena Correctional Institute for Unruly Girls ~ 1966 ~ Volume 2 – Part 6

To read the rest, click here ..

Saint Helena Correctional Institute for Unruly Girls ~ 1966 ~ Volume 2

continued…

Miss Kenworthy kept to her word and finished the bare bottom painful spanking off with a flurry of hard crisps whacks with the plimsol!

Charlotte struggled and squealed loudly, until it was over.

( I love this photo, the way Charlotte’s bright red bottom is poking out is wonderful!)

….and when it was over, Miss Kenworthy pulled out the baton from the flogging stool to release a sobbing Charlotte.

“I can see you are disheveled and distressed girl, so I am putting you in corner time for ten minutes to calm down. If anyone comes in, stay as you are as an example of what happens to the naughtiest of girls.” Miss Kenworthy said sharply.

She picked up Charlotte’s hat.

And popped it on her head

more to come…Asa

The Power of Grey!

There is more to us older folk than you think! This section will have lots of sets added, but to start it off…

I still have a lot of older clients. The bottom of a woman is the last thing that age gets a grip on. A smack on an older woman’s bottom is every bit as enjoyable as any other…

“Oh Mildred, it is two more week before we see Mr.Jones again!”

“I know Hilary, I can’t wait either. I hope he puts us in corner time again after the spanking, and attends to our needs!”

“Ohhh God yes, my pussy is still twitching!!”

“How rude, that’s a very naughty thing to say,! A good spanking for you my girl!…. push up!”

***

Miss Mooncheeks is very much like me. Before giving a naughty girl a good, hard, long spanking, she likes to spend time appreciating her cheeks.

Sometimes a little too long!

more to come…

Asa

Contributors Day 112 ~ Part Two of Choir Girl by Maestro.

To see more of Meastro’s work, click on ‘Links and Contributors’ in the menu, then click on ‘Contributors’ and scroll down to his page.

CHOIR GIRL – Part two

“OK, girl, pull them down to your knees now!”

Awkwardly, you obeyed me and reached back and tugged the tight panties down to your knees. Your lovely bottom was now bared and ready. I quickly gave you twenty-five hard smacks, not giving you much time in between to move around. You were in danger of falling off my lap and had to spread your legs slightly to keep your feet planted. As I continued to spank, I gazed down upon your red cheeks and the downy cleft that split them. You were revealing just a little bit of your inner secrets to me… I longed to take you as my lover!I am sure that you felt evidence of that fact coming from my lap as you moved against my firmness.


After these one hundred spanks, I had you stand, still with your panties at your knees and your skirt held high, and show your reddened bottom to the class. I stood and moved up behind the chair. As you were showing your behind to the others, you were showing me what had been hidden inside that tight white panty gusset about fifteen minutes ago. I had to stand with my hands clasped in front of me so my students wouldn’t see too much of my excitement!

“Thank you, Miss. You may readjust your clothing as we prepare for the next phase.”……….as you pulled your panties back onto your bottom, I turned the chair so that its back was toward the back of the stage………….

“Alright, young lady, let us move to the next phase.”


“Please,Sir, it is becoming very warm in here….”


“Especially on your bottom, I would think!”


The class roared with laughter, and you blushed to the roots of your hair.


“Sir, please, may I remove my sweater?”

“Certainly,” I replied.

You gently pulled your dark sweater over your head and handed it to me. As I took it from you and turned to place it on the top of the nearby piano, the other students noticed immediately the proud points rising from the surface of your blouse, as your nipples were fully hard from your excitement.


I then instructed you to kneel up on the sturdy chair and bend over. You did as I asked, grasping the back of the chair and lifting your bottom up and out for punishment. Your blue skirt, which you always liked to be tight and short, was spread tightly over your buttocks,and the hem was pulled high enough that the students seated toward the front could have a little peek at your white panty bottom.

(Everyone would see it again, soon, though!)


From the top of the piano, I brought out a wooden paddle, about one half meter in length, with a leather-wrapped handle and shiny, varnished surface. I stepped to your side, as you instinctively straightened up a bit, and said to the class:


“The paddle is a popular instrument of correction. Schools used it for discipline until the mid 1970s. It has several advantages: it doesn’t leave marks, but can apply a good deal of punishment, even over a clothed bottom. I will now demonstrate this feature. Miss, if you would be so kind as to lift yourself into a proper position again?”


Looking a little fearful as I showed you the instrument that would soon be introduced to your rear, you slowly bent forward again, bringing your bottom into proper elevation. Without further delay, I gave you six brisk swats. You were a little unprepared for the pain, and cried out softly after each stroke. But you still kept your bottom arched out for more!.


“As you can see, the device is able to cause some discomfort in the subject. However, it is even more effective if there is less material in the way. Young lady, would you please lift up your skirt and hold it out of the way. Thank you. Now arch and offer again.”


The students and I again had the visual pleasure of seeing your lovely bottom again, clad in thin cotton. The tight virgin white panties moulded themselves to the cheeks of your lovely rear like a second skin, as you slowly moved back and forth. I touched your bottom slightly with the paddle, then drew it back and gave you a hard smack.”Oww.. .oww… oww,” you cried, as you straightened up to rub your arching rear. “Miss!” again you bent, and after lifting the skirt again, were ready for the next stroke. This pattern was repeated again five more times, and then I allowed you to stand.”Please face your fellow students, now.” You turned to them, not looking nearly as happy as you had several minutes earlier.A few tears had formed at the corners of your eyes, as you looked around at your classmates.


“Miss, how many students did you steal things from?”

“Eight, I think, Sir.”

“Do you know who they are?”

“I think so, Sir.”


“Excellent!Lean closer and let me give you your next instructions..” You put your ear close to my lips and cocked your head to the side to listen. With a hand raised to hide my lips, I whispered the instructions to you and then gave your ear a gentle caress and kiss.


“Yes, Sir; Thank you, Sir.” You then spoke to the class:

“Hey people, I’m sorry for what I did.. this group of you is too important to me, and I deserve every bit of what I’ve gotten so far, and what is still coming up. I would like each of you whom I robbed to come down and give me two swats with the paddle. I wiill come to your seat, give you the paddle, and escort you down here to the front.” 

I then spoke up:


“Thank you, young lady, but there’s one little problem. Your skirt keeps falling down and getting in the way… would you remove it, please, and place it over with your sweater on the piano?” You looked worried for an instant, but then reached inside the back (I think!) and unfastened it. Stepping out of it, you walked over and placed it on the piano, then returned and faced the class again. All of them could now enjoy the bushy matt of pubic hair that was hidden inside your sister’s borrowed tight knickers, as well as the dark tips of your nipples poking up the material of your blouse. 


You then asked me for the paddle. Carrying it, you walked slowly up to a boy in The bass section, handed it to him, and took him by the hand down to the front of the room.

The rest of us enjoyed watching your bottom move as you walked, and also the embarrassment of the young man as he tried to hide his erection as he walked and then stood by the chair! You knelt up on the chair, as before, and presented your bottom to him, saying: “I’m sorry, Carl, for stealing that money from you…would you please paddle my bottom, now?”

He struck you twice – the first one was not too hard, but the second really stung. You then stepped down, curtsied to him and thanked him as you took the paddle back and he returned, red-faced, to his seat.


The same procedure happened seven more times, for three female students and four more boys. The last boy had been a favorite of yours for several years, and had asked you on dates several times, but you had refused!He was a football player, and you loved to watch his big muscular legs and tight little butt as he ran around the field in his uniform!To tease him a little more than the rest, you did not clench your legs together tightly, but moved your knees as far apart as they could on the seat, giving him an extra eyeful! You spoke to him very slowly and sensuously as you asked him, and jutted your bottom out as far as you could. Unlike the others, he bent down to take a closer look at what he was about to swat. You responded by moving your hips back and forth to simulate the motions of love-making. I cleared my throat loudly and called for the punishment to continue. (Partly because I was very jealous – I wanted you to become my own personal sub and lover!)

He was able to give you two hard swats, but after the second, as he watched you writhe your slender, nearly bared bottom inthe air, he lost control. “Oh no,” he murmured, as the rest of us could see a dark stain spreading across the front of his tan slacks! Shamefaced, he returned to his seat, as you arose and handed the paddle back to me.

(to be continued….) 

In the words of ‘Uncanny’ (anyone watch it?)…”Bloody Hell Maestro”.

The Day Centre at Saint Helena High School for Wayward Girls…THIS IS ONE FOR NAUGHTY BOYS AND MORE!

I have a lot of naughty boys, transvestites, women who want to dress as boys etc, …. all sorts of people with delightful kinks, who write to me. Mainly via ‘X’, and Tumblr.

They have asked me to make their dreams a reality best I can.

BE WARNED!!!! ANYTHING COULD CROP UP HERE!

I am as broad minded as a man can be, as regards spanking, most of my blog will always be aimed at the plump female bottom, but I want to cater for all. So if you have a wish, write to me, this could be the place for you.

Everyone deserves a place where their fantasy can have a home. Within reason….no silly requests please. Just nice little fantasies like these.

***

Away from the school, Miss Kenworthy has a thriving Disciplinary Business. I have allowed her too use the school premises at the weekend.

She comes across all sorts of people, with needs. Sometimes she deals with them, sometimes her friends.

She limits visits to three in a weekend, this weekend a retired Headmistress, from an all boys school, called Miss Evans, came, she wanted to dress as a naughty boy and get a spanking. She is a dear friend of Miss Kenworthy but wanted a more matronly figure to spank her….before some young girls.

So Miss Kenworthy asked her Aunty Donna and some of her model friends to see to her.

MIss Evans asked me to make her young again.

I hope this does it for you Miss Evans, a challenging AI to create, but it came out well. I love your occasional e-mails, I do hope you send me one of your specials!!!!… telling me what you got up to after seeing this …wink wink xxx

***

The second visitor was a rotund little chap. He asked if he could be told off for eating too many sweets and chocolate and allowing his bottom to get too big. He NEEDS to get spanked by a bunch of girls who walk around him singing Stephen needs a spanking, his bottom has got too big!! …repeatedly, whilst spanking his bottom with a plimsol.

I have done my best Steve, hope you like it!

***

The last one is for about fifty men! All with the same fantasy!

A very common request is to have their bare bottom on show, before a group of attractive adult schoolgirls who are mocking them, giggling and saying things like …” Ooooh you are going to get such a spanking, we will see you jumping about like a silly little boy begging for it to stop, as your cheeks get redder and redder and redder. Oh she is coming, listen to her footsteps getting closer, oh and what is that? The swish of a cane! Oh dear naughty boy! You are going to get a bare bottom caning before us all!”

(I am arranging this in my studio for one of them, photos to come later in the year)

” Oh look! His willy has just stuck up rigid like a steel bar, oh God!! He is wanking….Miss Kenworthy! Miss Kenworthy! Come quick! He is masturbating ever so fast!”

She bursts through the door. “Take your hand away from your….oh…you dirty little boy! Look at all that, what a mess you have made. Touch your toes right now, gather round girls, and watch a very naughty boy get a few dozen quick fire whacks with the senior cane….from cold!!!!”

THWACK!!!!! “yeeeeeeeeooooowwwwwww!” THWAAAAACKKK!!!! “AIEEEEEEEEEEYYYYEEEEOEWWW “

Oh we all love a howler!

more to come…

Asa