To read the rest of her work go to ‘Links and Contributors’ and then click on ‘Contributors’. Scroll down to her page.
…
September 3rd 1965, I was about to land at Heathrow, the London airport. I kept popping my ears with my fingers as the Air France Caravelle was descending. I was half deaf when the Immigration Officer examined my visa and questioned me, “What will you be studying at Saint Mary of Colchester?” He had to repeat the question. “I will be taking the A-levels, Sir.” He then smiled and welcomed me in French, “Bienvenue au Royaume-Uni Mademoiselle !”
The Customs Officer waved me through, and seemed to smile as I tugged down my miniskirt while pulling the suitcase on wheels Papa had given me. In France, the miniskirt wasn’t as popular as in the UK, and my first mini wasn’t too short. I nonetheless wasn’t used to wearing such a short skirt, but I was quite proud of the sparks in the eyes of the boys.
Walking through the sliding “arrival” doors, I saw a girl about my age waving a cardboard sign with Béa, short for Béatrice, written on it. I recognized Maggie from the polaroids we had exchanged by mail. We spontaneously hugged each other and her mother offered a warm smile with, “Welcome to England dear Béatrice.”
Next was the long drive to Colchester and their house. It was located in an affluent neighborhood, each house had a car. It wasn’t much different from home, and their car, as ours, had the wheel like sticker of the Rotary International, which had organized my student exchange.
They had a cozy living room with a Motorola color television, exactly like ours. I was told, “First thing first call your parents on the telephone.” I did and was again reminded that Mr and Mrs Barrington are now my loco parentis, “…and to be a good girl!”
“Oui Maman !”
Maggie was told to show me my room. I followed her up the carpeted stairs, and her mini was shorter than mine. I saw her knickers.
I discovered a lovely room with flowery curtains, a comfy bed, and a desk with text books already covered. She also showed me my school uniform in the cupboard. I wasn’t too enthralled by the navy cardigan, white blouse, stripped tie, and knee-high socks. The red plaid kilt was short. That should be fun for teasing the local boys. She sighed as she explained, “Although we will be taking our A-levels we still have to wear the school’s uniform.”
Her mother called from the kitchen, “Maggie, please set up the table for dinner, and Béa is to help you.”
I was shown the drawers with the silverware, “The one on the right with the everyday stuff.” said Maggie. From the nearby living room we could hear the radio, and I guessed that her father was back from work.
Maggie showed off with juggling a plate. She was very good, and I applauded. She must have felt encouraged, and tried with a second plate. The plates went up one after the other. She caught one and sent it back up, and the other one was faster than her and crashed. CRACK!
Her mother was out of the kitchen as fast as a Serengeti lioness taking down an antelope for breakfast. Mrs Barrington was wielding the largest wooden spoon I had ever seen. She grabbed Maggie, and pulled her over her knees after having sat on one of the dinning room chairs. She then raised her miniskirt, and yanked her knickers down to her knees. It was la fessée. I was mesmerized.
“SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“Oh! Ah! Mum please, I am sorry!”
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“Oh! Ah! Ouch!”
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
Mummy please!”
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“Ouch! Ouch! Sniff… Sniff…
I hadn’t counted the smacks. I thought it was quite severe, although I had no way of comparing. It was the first time I witnessed a spanking. She had pedaled her legs and showed everything. How embarrassing it must have been for her!
When she was helped back on her feet she was told not to rub, “Or I’ll give you another dozen, and clean up that mess!” Then she turned to me, “I heard you applauding, if you encourage her again I will give you the same as her, and help her clean that mess!”
I have never received la fessée. I stammered as I offered a pitiful, “I am.. am… sorry… very sorry, Ma’am.” I couldn’t help blushing, but I sure wasn’t blushing as red as Maggie.
While helping my new sister clean up the debris, I remembered Maman warning me a few days ago, “You be a good girl in Great Britain, or you will taste British discipline!” I now knew what she meant. I might receive la fessée cul nu, although I am eighteen as Maggie.
Dinner was next and her father told me to call them Aunt Dorothy and Uncle Edward. I nodded with a smile, and soon lost it as he added.
“I was on the phone with your father a month ago to finalize the details of your venue. He was sorry to tell me that you had your baccalaureate on your second attempt and without honors. I assured him that you will have your A-levels with honors on your first attempt. He also told how he has been too lenient with you. “With us if you have poor grades, it is the belt on your bare bottom, and six of the best with the cane for failing grades.”
I gulped, blushed and almost peed my knickers.
Later in Maggie’s room, I was quite embarrassed as she raised her skirt and lowered her knickers to rub her still vividly red derriere with Yardley Aloe Vera Cream. She must have seen my bewildered look, and with incredulous eyebrows, asked.
“Huh! You have never been spanked?!”
“Nope… never… what about the cane?”
“It stings like the Dickens!”
“Ah!”
“And you have stripes for a week.”
“Oh!”
That evening we watched Coronation Street on their telly. There was plenty of words I didn’t understand, as if it was mixed with a different language.
Later up in our rooms, Maggie played a Beatles’ record, and I forgot about English discipline as we danced and sang,
Yesterday
All my troubles seemed so far away Now it looks as though they’re here to stay Oh, I believe in yesterday…”
Béatrice and Maggie
To be continued…
B also runs a comprehensive spanking game. I used to play until my blog got too time consuming. I fully recommend it…
Samantha went home from the studio, so Charlotte carried on her own, she is very adept with her phone.
She only lives about twenty minutes from the studio, so I did not have to wait long. She is a clever young woman, and knows how to manipulate a conversation to meet her own ends.
From experience I knew that she was feeling very turned on, and was fishing for a spanking, a self spanking. She likes to do it for me.
“Ahhh, she’s home.” I said to myself when the phone came to life again.
On the screen was a pair of her knickers, gently swinging in the breeze.
“That’s a nice greeting!”
“Thank you, my first load is finished, I am going to hang these out and then put the studio washing in.”
She chuckled, I saw the image shake and the sky spin before me. It settled on her hanging out some washing…socks.
“Are you looking at my bottom again Mr.Jones?”
“Might be!”
“It’s very warm Mr.Jones!”
“I am glad it is!” I chuckled.
She was now in bra and panties.
“Do you often hang washing out like that?” I asked.
“Yes, Mr.Jones.”
“That’s naughty.’
“Is it? What if I took my bra off? Would that be very naughty Mr.Jones?”
‘Yes! Very…you naughty girl.” I chided…
“And if I sat like this?
“That Charlotte is very very naughty, what if people see?”
“Have you still got the web cam app I sent last time Mr.Jones?”
“Yes.”
She told me to switch it on.
I could see her sat with her phone now. “I had better not shout, can you hear me?” She said quietly.
I carried on watching and said that I could.
“Tell me I am a naughty girl and need a spanking Mr.Jones…shout at me!’
“What happens to a naughty girl Mr.Jones?”
“You know very well what happens! They get spanked!”
“But you are not here.”
“Ooooh Mr.Jones, I am such a naughty girl, what a shame you are not here to spank me!”
Her hand was working in her knickers.
She whipped her knickers around her bottom and almost to her knees.
I gave had a good telling off for masturbating in public and she loved it.
“You need a jolly good spanking Charlotte! Right where you are!”
“Awww…yes Sir.”
“Pull your knickers up, and stand up!”
“Yes Mr.Jones!”
“Now start spanking and make it loud!” I told her strictly.
“Now take your knickers down and give yourself a bare bottom spanking!”
I am sorry, but from this point on, both her hands and mine were busy!
Say hello to Roderik Kane, a man with an extraordinary talent for adapting verse to spanking.
I wonder, as he writes does he try to keep the rhythm of the poem to the rhythm of the smacks?
I will let you judge, I hope he will become one of my contributors…
Charlotte Number One.
It had been hot so Charlotte Had let her uniform standards slip Her skirt was so outrageously short It revealed her suspender clips! When the headmaster saw her He absolutely flipped Now Charlotte stands outside his door Nervously biting on her lip
She enters on the command of ‘Come!’ With an air of trepidation She stares at the floor feeling glum As he asks for an explanation Knowing full well that soon her bum Will be exposed for his delectation Charlotte fiddles with her fingers and thumbs In quiet desperation ‘Sir, it’s been so hot recently I needed more air around my thighs So I rolled my skirt up at the top I know now that was unwise’ She gazed into the headmaster’s Stern and unflinching eyes He said ‘There are reasons for rules in this school So it’ll come as no surprise…
That I must administer punishment For your uniform violation I think a spanking and a caning Should address the situation So come here and bend across my knee. And I’ll begin your re-education And you’ll soon remember The dos and don’ts of uniform regulations’ Thirty minutes later Charlotte got to her shaky feet From lying across the headmaster’s desk Where cane and bottom meet She walked with slow, measured steps Rubbing her punished seat And reflected that the headmaster’s hand and cane Were more intense than solar heat!
I thought it only right that you read the whole of it, now I am putting each part to photos…
Eventually, when his Contributor Page is set up, all parts will be together, along with the full poem on his page one.
Part One of Photo Poem 1 ~ Charlotte
I hope to do this with each poem, but first let’s get the poems up….
————————–
Samantha…
Samantha come and see me immediately!’
‘Oh crikey!’ Samantha thinks ‘Wonder what I’ve done
She mentally runs through her misdemeanours, a furrow cross her brow ‘Ah well’ she says to herself ‘It can’t be anything too serious’. When the headmaster’s voice cuts across her thoughts, sounding so imperious
‘Samantha, you’re just about as naughty as any girl can be! You’d better lower your panties and bend across my knee!’
‘Oh but sir I’ve been spanked already! In fact it’s twice this week!’
‘Then it’s third time unlucky for you, my girl, for your impertinent cheek!’
She dutifully bends over, her panties round her knees ‘Oh sir don’t spank me too hard!’ but the Head ignores her pleas
‘Three spankings in three days sir – it really isn’t fair!’ But the headmaster is concentrating upon her bottom bare.
He finally stops spanking her when he’s achieved the desired colour red.
And Samantha stands in the corner, her hands upon her head
Her bottom framed exquisitely by stockings south and skirt up north ‘Now don’t be naughty again this week or you’ll be back here for a fourth!’
——————————–
Kate…
Kate’s been pert to a teacher A regular feature So she’s been sent upstairs to the Head
She pretends not to care As she climbs the stair But she knows soon her bum will be red! She nervously knocks on the door Then stares at the floor Before the Head’s voice instructs her to enter
She walks into the room With a sense of impending doom Silently cursing the teacher who sent her The Head’s in a bad mood But he likes girls who are rude It raises his spirits when he raises their skirts
Then he ups the ante By lowering their panties For a spanking which inevitably hurts!
So Kate assumes the position There follows the collision Of hand with bare bottom cheek After four score her bottom’s so sore She won’t sit down for a week!
Then there’s a pause As the Head picks up the tawse And says ‘Young lady, bend over the chair’ Kate looks dismayed But obeys anyway Her bottom ripe and inviting and bare!
But Kate feels no shame As the Headmaster takes aim For soon there’ll be other emotions Then with a Whack! Thwack! and Crack! Kate’s bottom is under attack
She’ll need a whole bottle of soothing cold lotion! Finally the strapping is done The Head’s had his fun Leaving Kate red-striped like the lager As she departs Her bottom throbs and it smarts And it feels a dozen times larger!
I told Charlotte that Suzette was coming to see me and asked if she would like to come and watch, because she had expressed interest in doing so, when I told her of the thrashing I had given her on her last visit.
Her reply was a little shy. For all you see of her on here, she is not quite as confident as you would expect, which actually when you notice it, makes her even more appealing.
“I would like to punish her Mr.Jones, I mean hard and long, like you do. Knowing that she likes it makes it so good for me, I can spank her hard and not worry about me doing it too hard.”
I told her what a lovely idea it was, and said, “Yes, leave it with me.”
I mentioned it slightly to Suzette, I know she likes the mystery of what is to come, and did not want to spoil it for her.
The day came, Charlotte thinking Suzette knew all about it, Suzette having little idea. But I knew it would be all the better for them…a tiny gamble, which was a pretty certain safe bet.
Charlotte waited to meet her submissive.
There was a knock on the door, once again our little spanking world does what it does best, make me seem invisible. It was like I was not there. “Come in.”
“Hello Suzette, how are you?”
“Very well thank you….you?”
“Kindly call me Mistress. I will not ask again.”
Slight taken aback, but instantly loving it, Suzette replied. “Yes Mistress, sorry Mistress.”
I smiled to myself. Success!
“Don’t ever forget again young lady, that was your one and only chance.’ said Mistress.
What followed was delightful praise for Suzette, which she enjoyed. Charlotte told her how she noticed her clothes and underwear, which were always immaculate.
Then she told her spanking pet where to stand.
Charlotte made a comment about the lovely skirt, and Suzette walked happily and daintily on the fluffy cloud it seemed to have created between them.
As directed she stood by the Chapel Window.
Mistress sat a while anticipating the spanking to come. “You please me, greatly.”
“Thank you Mistress.”
“Good girl.”
It was obvious that Suzette loved the role, and unlike her usual cheeky answering back self, I saw something I liked…very much. She was a natural.
Then Mistress walked her supermodel walk to the desk, and perched her curvy derriere on the edge.
Suzette is smaller than her Mistress, and Suzette was very glad she was. Slowly Charlotte grew in stature, she seemed tall, powerful, and in command. Yet she oozed silky smooth sexuality.
Another report of the happenings at Cumley Bottom…
On Friday evening last week the ‘Old Cumley Girls Association’ met at the Cumley Bottom Arms for their bi-monthly meeting. Gladys Merrybottom gave an interesting talk of some old spankings in her years.
Gladys herself recalled the night that the smoking window was discovered, with her and her best friend ‘having a fag’.
It seems that it could not be seen from any path, but…. The gardener had found the cigarette butts below it. As they were giggling and smoking they heard a cough. Mr Aticus Jones (one of my ancestors) was stood behind them! She did not have a merry bottom that night. Nor her friend.
She also told the story of when she was half way through her teaching years and she was found to be lax at filling in report forms.
“You are never too old for the cane.” she found out!!
She followed that tale with her memory of waiting for the cane, but still being excited at hearing her best friend getting it.
During the whole of their meal, excited talk of spanking was most popular by far. One of the ‘old girls’ daughter works there, and she told the group how she had just given the plimsoll to two girls whom she loved dearly….but rules are rules, no matter who.
A classic case of ‘This will hurt me as much as it hurts you!”
…although I doubt these two believe that!
Non regulation knickers and their discovery, and how, who by, etc…was as always high on the story list.
It appears that early in the term four girls forgot about on the spot surprise inspections.
One of the ladies has set up her own business in Cumley, a spanking service for other local businesses. A maid was sent this morning to Mable, the proprietor, from the Blushing Bins Cafe, for being rude to customers….
…she rang the cafe after spanking her. Her business is ran from an old butchers shop, with a huge display window. Just right for public corner time! Customers and staff are walking down to gloat and mock as we speak. I bet they don’t expect to find her naked!
One discussion was of embarrassing moments.
They all agreed that the first time they walked back to class crying, skirt pegged up, and red bottom on show was one of the worst for them all. All the teachers who thought they were a good girl raising an eyebrow and other girls giggling and pointing added to it.
A close second was being spanked in class and made to sit on the hard stool straight after!
Wriggling and squirming on the stool, with their knickers hanging on the hook, brought many blushes from the gathering.
More to come from Cumley Bottom, I have to wait for them.
To read the rest, you need to go on a little journey! Click on ‘Photo Stories’ , and scroll down to number 87, click on it, and you will find over 20 more stories…..scroll down to number four.
…oooOOOooo…
Charlotte had just asked for a ride on ‘Neddy the Spanking Rocking Horse’, after just coming off the St.Andrew’s Cross. She was sexually excited and nervous.
“Sit down, make your bottom poke over the edge as much as you can, and make sure that your slippery little pussy is pushing down in the right place for you.” Samantha continued to talk soothingly, slowly, and sexually.
“That’s it, good girl, now start to grind and rub you clit on the soft oiled leather. We do not want you to be sore….is that good?’
The horse moved slightly as she moaned a reply.
“Yes Mistress.”
Samantha patted her bare bottom with the crop. “Ready?”
“God yes!”
THWACK!!!
“Owwwwww!”
“Then gallop for me! We are a fence almost straight away. You had better clear it well!”
The crop landed well, and Charlotte galloped hard and fast. “Yes I will Mistress”
Already the little horse was rocking to its full extent, massaging her swollen labia.
Her knickers were taut and dug on her crease delightfully…
THWACK, THWACK, THWACK!!!
“Ohhhh, yes yes, owwwww, yesss!’
Samantha took her on a hard cross country gallop over hill and dale.
The sound of smacks, their talking and squealing, mingled with the cracks of the crop on fleshy buttocks filled the room, as Charlotte galloped hard and fast to orgasm…
The speed of the gallop and the whack increased as they reached the water jump, …in other words, Charlotte’s orgasm!
“Fuck, fuck, ohhhhhh fuck yesss!” Screamed Charlotte as her pussy writhed in delight.
Samantha gripped Charlotte’s hair tight as a flurry of whacks landed across the crack of her bottom.