Another contributor who deserves his own page.

To see his first story, click here…

Two New Aspiring Contributors Today…and, part two of TradCP’s Story Number Three added.

Number Two

Saturday is Contributors day! …A Game of Bowls ~ The next story from Robbie

He is currently writing story number 3

Story Three…

Anna and I – Part One

I have already introduced you to my friend Anna. She told you her story, and now it is time to tell you mine.  Anna and I had both been pupils of the formidable Miss Kenworthy, a beautiful and caring teacher who loves her pupils but is extremely strict if she is displeased and is a firm advocate of corporal punishment, which she (still) administers with great finesse. Anna had been punished this way several times, but I managed to escape its more severe forms despite a few close shaves. More recently, Anna was caught entering Miss Kenworthy’s study and was threatened with the birch by Miss Kenworthy’s beady-eyed secretary, who had caught her red-handed. Anna failed to report for her punishment, but during a conversation I had with her I persuaded her to return to the school, even though it was several years later, and take her punishment. After all this time it would be unlikely to be a physical punishment.

But I was wrong. For Miss Kenworthy the ‘unfinished business’ was extremely – in fact obsessively – troubling, and Anna was birched again. I think Anna actually wanted this outcome, and agreed to be disciplined. Miss Kenworthy took her into the school garden, where she had been punishedbefore as determined by a “game of bowls”, Anna picking slips at random from glass bowls. Now the willows were flourishing. She cut two switches to form a birch and gave Anna fifty strokes across her bare bottom. Through her tears, Anna thanked Miss Kenworthy and admitted that she haddeserved the punishment.

After the birching and hands-on-head corner time Miss Kenworthy relaxed a little and asked Anna about me. She said that I was one of her ‘escapees’, pupils who had escaped the cane during their time at the school. Then she surprised Anna – and in due course me – by saying that I was the only escapee left who had not been ‘remedied’ (i.e. punished retrospectively) and she would like to “see me about it”(another euphemism). What it amounted to was that Miss Kenworthy wanted me – as Anna had done — to report to her now for the supposedly missed canings. I respected Miss Kenworthy deeply, and had profited from her teaching, and now I felt strangely willing to comply, even though I suspected that she might be reinventing the past.

I contacted Miss Kenworthy and arranged to call on her at the school the following week. When I arrived I was taken up to her study and told to wait outside. After a while, just as had happened to Anna on her visit, Miss Kenworthy arrived down the passage and greeted me.

“Hello Florence, come in.” She used to call me Flo, but I always preferred the full form. My parents loved the Renaissance city, and were delighted to have a daughter to name after it. To me it has always felt like a responsibility.

Her manner was disconcertingly engaging – Miss Kenworthy always concealed her strictness behind an outwardlyenchanting composure. She opened the door and ushered me in. There was no sign of the glass bowls, but reminders of her “methods” (as she called them) lay about the room – as if theywere in constant use (which they probably were, even now).

Miss Kenworthy looked up at me; she did not ask me to sit and it felt more natural to me to stay standing. I was spontaneously playing the submissive role.

“I am glad to see you again Florence. Has Anna spoken to you about this? When I birched her recently it was a deeply satisfying experience for both of us. You know she was one of my escapees, and now you are the last. I would like to put that right, but to do so requires me to enrol you temporarily as a pupil and to treat you as such. Would you agree to that Florence?”

I asked her what that would involve and by way of answer she took a book out of her desk drawer, which I recognised as her punishment book, the book in which she recorded girls’ misdemeanours and the punishments they received. If I now agreed to pupil status it would mean a sore bottom by the end of the day.

“There are several entries in the book which called for punishment you never received Florence. Homework not done, missed detentions, and one especially egregious case of discourtesy to a tutor. If you are willing, we can put this right but it will require more than a single punishment. This would of course involve you staying here at the school —  the dormitories and punishment rooms are quiet at this time.” 

She paused and looked harder at me. “But for the birch – yes Florence, the birch – it would be necessary to use the detention room, where there is more space, and I would also want there to be witnesses. I must advise you too that it is still school policy to administer all corporal punishment – not just the birch – naked from the waist down, and I intend to follow this policy in your case.”

“Naked”, so much more sensual than “bare”, gave me a tingle of anticipation.

By this time Miss Kenworthy’s language and manner clearly conveyed a presumption that the punishment would go ahead; it was a case of “will” and “must” and not “would” and “might”. What she envisaged was an extension to my school life enabling the resolution of incomplete entries in the punishment book.

I asked Miss Kenworthy if I might see the book. Sure enough there were entries for offences for which corporal punishment was obligatory, but for which none had been entered. (The punishment was entered at the time it was administered.) They looked genuine, and there was no way they could have been added spuriously at some later date.

“I remember some of those, Miss Kenworthy.”

“So do I, Florence. And now comes the reckoning. I expect Anna told you about our game of bowls, did she? When she came back to see me recently she shocked me by suggesting that I had fixed the lottery to ensure the strictest punishment that time.”

“And did you Miss Kenworthy? Did you fix it?”

“Just a little, perhaps. But Anna got the punishment she deserved, and another punishment for her accusation about me. And now I think you are making the same accusation, Florence.” 

It was true of course, and it left me feeling awkward.

“But things are different now and you are different. You and Charlotte were – are – my favourite pupils and like all favourites you are most in need of strictness. Now I want thisopportunity. I think we both want this opportunity.”

She gave me a look of such intense longing that I knew I must comply. We had reached that point in the reprimand when mywhole body — not just the part most directly affected — reacted with a shiver of anticipation. The extreme tensionbetween us could only be resolved by complete submission to her in a punishment room.

“I am going to leave you for a few moments to think this over, Florence. When I return I hope we can finalise the arrangements and draw up a programme for you.”

Miss Kenworthy hurried out of the room, leaving me in a daze of excitement. By the time she returned I knew that I wanted this programme to go ahead as much as she did. 

My look as much as my words conveyed this to her.

“Thank you, Florence. Now I will take you to matron to be checked over. Then I am going to administer twelve strokes of the cane. Not too severe – but enough to leave light stripes.”  (Miss Kenworthy’s light stripes were always quite beautiful, and always produced tears.)

There followed a long pause, as Miss Kenworthy’s smile broadened.

“Then tomorrow, I will birch you. Severely.”

“Just like Anna?”

“Harder than Anna. … But you know that.”

The shock of the last words – spoken almost as an afterthought – left me feeling dizzy. I did know it. But I managed to retain some dignity. We completed the formalities of my pupil status and subjection to school rules and discipline. Miss Kenworthy presented me with a short form of agreement admitting liability for the punishments and consenting to punishment “as the headmistress sees fit”.

Miss Kenworthy gathered up the papers and as she did so her face manifested that wistful look of hers that I had only ever seen when she was contemplating a punishment.

“Anna called this bullshit, Flo. She regretted it when she felt the birch.”

Anna had not told me that, and I wondered which of them to believe. Anna was quite capable of such a remark, and so was Miss Kenworthy of imagining it in the present circumstances. Actually Anna was right, the paperwork meant nothing, but it added a frisson to the proceedings and I kept my counsel this time.

“Your punishments will be severe but reasonable, I will not abuse the trust you are putting in me, but you will appreciate that an act of complete submission on your part is essential.”

A nod from me sealed the arrangement. I was deeply moved, and was fighting back tears, which did not escape Miss Kenworthy’s notice.

But there was something missing.

“Will I get a spanking?” I could not disguise the sense of hope in my eyes or my voice.

“You know who to go to for that. But the cane will be first.”

(Oh my, a cold caning then! Painful but delicious. Strictly for the connoisseur.)

She took me to a small dormitory, which adjoined matron’s room and had a connecting door with it. As well as the bedsand cupboards there was a low bench which I recognised as designed for receiving punishment. In one corner were the mirrors that had featured in Anna’s narration (so she was telling the truth) and on a hook on the back of the door hungthe cane intended for me – a single cane, long and thin, so much more potent a symbol than the array of implements often depicted in scenes of discipline.

Miss Kenworthy caught me glancing up at it.

“It is a new one, Florence. Bought specially for you. I remember your comely little rump and it will be just right for you. Yours will be the only bottom it touches.”

With that she left the room, glancing again at the cane and then at me.

There were no other occupants in the room, although several beds looked to be made up. Might I be disciplined in front of others?  I had brought some overnight essentials in the expectation of an overnight stay. As I was settling in to my temporary accommodation, there was a sharp knock on the connecting door and matron stepped in – the very same matron I remember from my days at the school. She remembered me.

“Hello, Flo — this is an unexpected reunion. First Anna, now you.”

“You know what it is about matron?”

“Oh, yes, dear. I do indeed. Now I just have to check you over to be sure you are ready to receive.” (“Ready to receive” was another familiar euphemism.)

Matron was speaking to me just as if there had been no gap of several years since our last meeting.

“Now, dear, just slip off your skirt for me please.”

I did so, folding it neatly on the bed as was the rule.

“And your panties as far as your knees. I just need to ….” We both knew what she needed to do. She rubbed her hands over my naked bottom and gave it a friendly slap.

“Lovely. Ready for the cane, certainly. How many strokes are you expecting?”

“Lots, Matron.” I felt myself blush a little. “Bare bottom.”

“Of course. Things haven’t changed that much. And then there is ….” Here she paused, and left the prospect of something more hanging in the air.

“And Miss Kenworthy?”

“Just the same. Strict. Extremely strict. You’ll see.”

“Tears, do you think?”

“For sure, before she even starts. I’ll be bound. Will the punishment be in the dorm?”

“Yes, matron. It’s set for six o’clock.”

“Ha, on the stroke of six for six strokes. I remember that line.”

“In that case it ought to be at midnight, matron.”

Matron look puzzled for a moment, then the meaning dawned.

“Ah, on the stroke of twelve ….”

“…. for twelve strokes. Yes matron.”

“Well, you have an hour or so to wait. I will be staying here, so I will know when the punishment starts. Good luck, dear. And remember, this is for her.”

“Miss Kenworthy?”

“Yes, dear. I know it must seem as bit obsessive, but it means a lot to her to get things cleared up. Be sure to let the tears flow.”

“I probably won’t be able to stop them, matron. You know me.”

“Will you be confined to room afterwards?”

“I don’t know matron, she didn’t say so. It’s usually best.”

“It is Florence, I’ll find you some cream for your bottom. You’ll be needing it, I expect.”

“I’m sure I will.”

Matron went back into her room and I could hear her shuffling about as I waited for Miss Kenworthy to return.

*****

To see his first work, click on ‘Links and Contributors’

Then click on Contributors.

Scroll down to the bottom of the page and you will see his first story. It is under the name ‘Maestro’

I have signed him up! I thought his work so good.

This is his page.

His next Story…

THE CHOIR GIRL

PART ONE

CHOIR GIRL, PART I

By MAESTRO

Do you remember the time where you sang in my choir during your last year of college?I often think of those days, especially the thing that happened after our tour!. Although it was very painful for you at the time, it strengthened our bonds of friendship, which continue until this day! But do you remember the first rehearsal after we got back, and what happened then?…………

The five-day tour had gone very well musically, you were a fine singer, and still are. But a string of thefts had occurred during the tour, all of them happening at times when you were not up on stage rehearsing. The mistake you made was using a cigarette lighter that you had stolen from one of the others; the girl saw you with it and reported you to me. She did not express her opinions to others, however, and the tour ended without further incident.

The evening that we returned home, I telephoned your mother and asked to speak to you. When you answered, I quietly told you of my suspicions of your guilt of petty theft. Soon, when confronted with the tale of the lighter, you started crying softly and admitted that you had indeed stolen a few small things. I said that I would have to report it to the Administration and that you would probably be expelled from the university. Tearfully, you begged me not to take that step, but to punish me in some other way. I asked whether you had ever been spanked – you said not since you were nine or so. I said that since you had committed an offence against the whole choir, you would be punished in front of them all. You agreed. I instructed you to report to my office fifteen minutes before rehearsal so that we could prepare. I also advised you to wear your best skirt and blouse and also clean underwear, as it would be on show!

You told me afterwards that you took a very long shower in the morning, carefully washing and rinsing all of your body. You took extra care with your makeup and hair, and even wore a brand new pair of white panties, although they belonged to your 15-year old sister and so were a bit too snug. You sat through the morning classes, watching the clock move steadily toward 1:15, the time you were due to report to me.

At that time, you knocked timidly on my door and entered when I asked you in. Closing the door, I had you sit while I explained your upcoming punishment to you. You would be spanked during the latter half of rehearsal; none of the students knew what was going to happen. I told you that you would be punished with a ruler, with a paddle, and finally with a cane, and I warned you that the punishments would first be given on the seat of your panties, and then on your bared bottom. You gulped softly and asked if there were no other way – maybe I could punish you alone, in the privacy of my home. (You had just turned 20, and knew that I had an eye for you.) Indignantly, I said firmly that the only alternative would be expulsion. You agreed then to be punished during the rehearsal, and left my office to go into the music classroom…………

You walked into the rehearsal room and up to your seat in the center of the first row. Do you remember what the room was like? – it was actually a large lecture hall, with four or five built-in levels of seating, and a fairly large area down at the front of the room. My director’s stand, large high stool, and podium were in the center, a large audio system over to one side, and a baby grand piano over to the otherside, near the windows.

There were about forty singers in that select choir, and they all sat at moveable student desks, so that we could move them into different formations or to the side if we needed to stand in concert formation. You sat in the center of the front row, because you were one of the leaders, if you remember!

In a moment, the class bell rang, and I strode into the hall, carrying my music briefcase and another parcel. (You swallowed, because you knew what was probably in that parcel!) I placed the items on the top of the piano and instructed the students to rise for the warm-up session that starts each rehearsal; then you resumed your seats and we began.
…. as the rehearsal continued, your mind began to wander, not really concentrating on singing. You thought of all of your new interest in spanking, all the pictures and stories you had seen, and realized that you would soon be seen in one of these very positions that you had fantasized on…
…..as your mind wandered, you let yourself repeat one of your bad habits.. you tend to let your legs part a bit during the course of the rehearsal, as you were concentrating on other things. You had of course realized that I notice this, and that hadn’t stopped you!

So, in order to let me know that you were really ready to continue, you caught my eyes with yours and looked downward. I watched you slowly swing your legs out to full extension and thrust your white panty vee out a bit more for my enjoyment. You looked forward to doing the same thing in the future, in the privacy of my apartment!!!
…the singing part of the rehearsal rather quickly came to an end……
….. I instructed the class to return their music folders to the storage racks at the back of the room and then to return to their seats. You, however, sit rooted to the spot, like a frightened fawn in the headlights of an auto.

I told the students that the recent tour was a complete musical success, and was marred by only one bad thing – there had been several instances of thefts of little things – small amounts of cash, a small packet of candy, and a cigarette lighter. I reminded the class that there was a strict prohibition against smoking in public while in concert dress,and that the punishment for that was to be given six strokes of the paddle, on top of your clothes, for each offence – you gulped softly,because you had forgotten that rule. Oh-oh…

I continued to say that fortunately, the culprit had admitted to her guilt.

“Miss______, would you please come down to the front of the room?” You heard gasps from several areas of the room as you slowly got up from your seat and came down to the front of the room, legs shaking slightly. I had you step up on the podium and face your peers.

“She has something to say to you all…,” I said. You had, at my instructions, prepared a short statement in which you admitted your guilt and requested that I give you corporal punishment in front of them, rather than being expelled from the college. All eyes were on you, and not another sound was heard. You were truly repentant in your little speech.

“Now,please turn around with your back to the choir. Thank you. Now wouldyou please bend over and lift your skirt for the class.”

“Please,Sir, do I have to?” (no response from me, so you slowly did as instructed)

“People, you see before you the area of the body traditionally used for the infliction of punishment to youngsters – usually not for a fully grown woman of twenty, except in unusual situations. This is one of them – because the young lady has let down her fellow choir members,she must be punished very hard and embarrassed in front of all of you. Miss, will you now pull down your panties below your bottom, spread your legs a bit, and assume the position? Thank you. Students, you see before you a truly lovely sight, one that should be reserved only for the eyes of her future husband, or lovers. Notice that it’s surface is white and unmarked …. in fifteen minutes it will not be…..”
” OK miss, you may stand up straight now.”

Quickly, you closed your legs, pulled up your panties, and stood awaiting instructions. I told you go get the chair from behind your desk and to bring it down to the front of the room. You did, and I told you to put it up on the podium. You did, but I said to put it sideways, with the back to one side. Thanking you, I announced that we would begin your punishment with some spanking over my knee. I sat down on the chair and motioned you over my knee. You began to drape yourself over, but your face was toward the class. “No, I said – other end!”

You stepped around, lay across my lap and let your toes touch the ground. I grasped you firmly on the waist with my lefthand, and began to rain a series of slow smacks on your bottom over your skirt. They can’t hurt too much, but you started to moan a little…..after about twenty-five, you started to feel a little heat! I then drew your skirt up to your waist, and held it in place.I then started to spank you on your panties. They were so tight that it was just like hitting your skin (but that would come soon!) I gave you another twenty-five smacks, and the class could start to see a bit of pinkness showing through the thin cotton.

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

(To be continued……)

Asa’s note…

Who needs photos with writing like that?

I am trying to get my video section, video story section, and my club video section up to the same working method as my stories,photo sets etc.

I.e. Some finished and to look at, some being updated at regular intervals.

So a few more days of videos yet, then it will be back to the new normal….

….regular updates of stories, photo sets, vintage, videos etc

Asa

If this is you first visit, you have some catching up to do!

you had better…

crack on!

You will find a cane behind you in the old oak cupboard!

Have fun, stay a while …and maybe, come back one day!

Asa

Samantha and I were in the studio together yesterday.

As always more talking, drinking tea and eating her favourite treat, Victoria Sponge Cake …than actually shooting….lol

As always it was perfect, and just how I like it.

I always have my camera, hanging around my neck, just in case. She paused, “I have had many conversations with you in many strange places and situations. But this one Mr.Jones. takes the biscuit!” She laughed.

click….. I caught the moment we started one of our giggling sessions.

….happy care free spanking fun. With all…. pairs….or with any of my girls individually. My most favourite times of all.

I have said this a thousand times already…

But I am so lucky, and love to share my good fortune with you all.

Have a nice day. It is a lovely autumn day here, and I am going for a walk, to kick some leaves in the woods, down a pretty track that ends up at one of my favourite tea rooms. Ooooh! I love rea rooms I do!!!

Asa