Monday, 30 August 2010

Going for Gold 2012 - Serial - part 1

A story by Tomas.

The best job in the world? I suppose it's all relative, does it pay well, is it easy, or conversely is it a challenge, or is it turning a pleasant pastime into money? Or perhaps turning a sexual kink, no I should maybe say peccadillo, into money? Imagine being paid by the government, to live out your sexual fantasies.

I'm so lucky, in that this is my third such post. The first though in my native country of England, previous to the Olympic panic currently underway ,my talents would never find employment on these shores.
How times change. My work with national teams in Korea, and central Europe, doesn't seem to have gone unnoticed in my motherland. My methods (though some may say extreme) have always proven fruitful.
So that brings us to where we are now, sitting in the boardroom of Reading FC, waiting to see two of Reading's Ladies star players. Amy Barrowman, and Maria Hurd. A holding midfielder, and a striker. Both quite talented, and both in dead-end jobs, and both quite easily (hopefully) lured away to the new sporting research facility in Barnard Castle.
I look at the files on the table in front of me, Barrowman, call centre operative. Hurd, sports centre receptionist, the carrot will prove large enough for these two I think. The stick, well that will follow later, I expect. I hope.
As they enter the room, I quickly look them both over, and stand to shake their hands, and offer them both a seat. Hurd, tall, long limbed, almost gangly, dark brown hair, and green eyes. Barrowman, shorter more compact, very light brown hair, and blue eyes. I wonder how they look under their tracksuits.
Soon find out.

"Well, ladies, let me introduce myself, I'm doctor Thomas Graham, though just call me Tom, I don't like the doctor title, far to medical for what we are doing." I say, firmly giving them the impression that my doctorate is in medicine. "In front of you both is a contract, basically it's a four year job offer at £40k a year," I notice the stunned look on their faces, I now have their full attention on the carrot. "the job is, training for the 2012 Olympics ladies football squad. Of course that's not what the contract says. On paper you will be working in the Sports Research centre. A new residential facility, where all aspects of your training, and diet will be controlled, and monitored with role specific programs." Both girls stare at me open mouthed, I continue. "As government employees, you both, should you accept the offer, be covered by the Official Secrets Act, and won't be allowed to discuss the training techniques used at the facility. The OSA also applies should you decide, for whatever reason to drop out of the program. I know you are probably wondering why a four year contract? This is for post games publicity, and touring, should as we expect, the squad delivers gold. Are you interested?"
"Yes defo, count me in. Where do I sign?" Answers the excited Hurd.
"Er.. I think so, but where is it, and when?" Answers the stunned Barrowman.
"It's in County Durham, actually its a converted young offenders unit," I notice both faces darken slightly at this information. "don't worry it's had a major conversion, and I think you will find it to your liking. When? Now that is a problem, next Sunday, so I'm afraid I need an answer ... Now actually. Before you commit yourselves one way or another, I really should tell you more about my role."
Both heads move forward slightly towards me, I have them.
"I will be in charge of diet, fitness training, and squad discipline and motivation. I won't have any control over team tactics, or team selection, that will be controlled by the GB Football Coach. So ladies is that a yes?"
Both heads nod, one with rapid enthusiasm, one not so sure. Interesting. Both girls quickly read through their contracts, and deliberately vaguely written information packs. I hand them each a pen. They both sign. It's that simple.
"OK, ladies," I say. "as I have already told you I will be in charge of your dietary needs. So to hit the ground running next week, I need to have some sort of guidelines. When in the facility you will be checked for your body fat ratios by being water- weighed, but for today however I need to use the old fashioned callipers." This is where my fun starts. "So if you could both please remove your sweatshirts, and lower your tracksuit bottoms, I can make a few readings as a rough guideline."
Hurd stands up straight away and takes off her top, Amy on the other hand is a little slower to follow. To no surprise, they are both wearing large white sports bras. Hurd stands there straight backed, and quite proud looking, Amy on the other hand, stands shoulders forward almost trying to hide herself, it looks like we have a bashful one here. I pick up my fat callipers from the table. Hurd is already untying the drawstring on her bottoms, while Amy just stands, biting on her lower lip. "Come along, Amy." I say in encouragement, as Hurd lowers her trousers to her knees, displaying full cut peppermint green panties.
"Please, sir... do I have to? It's just.. I er."
Amy mumbles, she called me sir, I like that, submissive already.
"Yes, dear but only for a minute or two."
She fumbles at her drawstring, finally managing to loosen the knot, she lowers her bottoms, and I see why all the fuss. She is wearing full cut white lacy knickers, the lace pattern so large as to make them transparent, rather than a shaver she is a trimmer, as I can clearly see her light fuzz of pubic hair, and also make out the sex lips below it.
She closes her legs tight together, to try to save herself further embarrassment.
"OK, Amy, we will check you first, If you could just put your hands behind your head, fingers interlocked, and feet shoulders width apart please."
Her face reddens. I make my start, taking the callipers, I make a quick reading of Amy's arms, nipping and measuring the little fat to be found there. "Mmm, very good." I say, reassuringly. I then move a little lower, to get the waist measurement, spending a little longer, so not as to draw attention to the next four readings. "OK, Amy, you obviously take good care of yourself, very little fat here. If you could just turn around, and I'll check your hamstrings."
She slowly turns, her tracksuit bottoms hampering her, her white laced bottom slowly coming into my view. I take my reading, I wonder can she feel my breath on the back of her thighs, as I take my second hamstring reading, I feel a shudder run through her body, as if she is reading my mind.
"That's fine, actually better than fine." I tell her. "Now if you could just turn back again, I'll check your inner thighs, and then you can pop your trousers back up." I remind her. As if she needed reminding, of her current state of undress.
"Yes, sir." She barely whispers to me.
My face is now level with her lace covered sex, and what's more, she is more than aware of the fact. As my hands go between her legs, I let the top of my right hand brush lightly against her sex, remembering my first aid training, the top of the hand is a touch, the palm a grope. You always have to be so careful about these things. At least at the beginning. She is now actually shaking, embarrassment? Who knows, but I have a feeling Miss Barrowman could be an entertaining prospect.
After spending as long as I could, without making it too obvious that I was dilly-dallying, I finally allow Amy to pull up her trousers, and put her top back on. I notice her eyes are sparkly, and damp, as if she is close to tears.
I rush through Maria's readings, and allow her also to dress.
"All right ladies, that will be all for today, and I look forward to seeing more of you next week."
As I say the last part, I stare directly into Amy's eyes, making sure the double meaning sinks through to her.


This has been such a long week, finally though the fresh intake has arrived, four new girls, the two from Reading, and one each from Arsenal, and Sunderland.
I look into the meeting room through the two way mirror, a relic from the buildings previous usage, as the visiting area for the young offenders.
Nine young ladies sitting there ,and one standing over to the left.
Interesting I think to myself. I quickly look into the in tray on the desk at the front of the room. Wonderful, a pink slip, just the way to start the time off for our new intake.
Watching the four new girls reading through their introduction packs is an entertainment in it's self. You know when they reach the rules and discipline section, just by the looks on their faces. The other five girls have a look of expectancy on their faces, as they too have noticed the pink slip, and they are all so aware of why Theresa, or Terry as she is known to them is standing there.
I wait until the newbie's have finished reading, then enter the room.
"Good afternoon ladies," They all stand as I enter, the newbie's following suit with the others. "please sit down," They all sit apart from the forlorn looking Terry. "I would like to welcome our four new girls to our happy establishment," I hear Terry snort, not a wise thing for her to do.
I look across at her, and her eyes fall quickly to the floor, a couple of the girls smile broadly, no doubt waiting for the entertainment to begin.
"I know everybody here will make every effort, to help new girls to settle into our regime as quickly,and as painlessly as possible." I say smiling broadly at the faces in front of me. "Which unfortunately," I say picking up the pink slip and quickly reading it. "brings me to Terry here, caught again drinking alcohol on the academy premises," I notice she is now close to tears, as do all of her audience, four staring at her in puzzlement, five in rapt expectation. "So, Terry,if you could possibly pop along to my office, and bring back what we require?" She looks at me, her whole body shaking, and tears know tracing their way down her cheeks.
"Sir.. could we not just go to your office. Please?"
All eyes now fall on me, to agree would only be perceived as weakness on my part, a sign of weakness these girls would exploit to the full.
"No you know the rules, the first infraction is dealt with in private, the next two for repeated offences are dealt with in the meeting hall, a fourth and your contract is rescinded. Now run along, don't dither on the way back. Or it will be extra."
Terry quickly leaves the room, with more than a spring in her step.
As I start to explain in more detail to the new girls about how their contracts and diet regimes work, the door opens, all the heads turn in unison. In walks John McPharland, the head coach, and Julie, the physio.
Both obviously here for the mornings entertainment, John always makes a point of getting in on as many disciplinary procedures as he can. Of course the lovely Julie also takes more then a professional interest in the procedures, such a shame she isn't bound by the same contracts as the athletes.
Just as I finish my welcoming speech, almost on perfect cue, the door opens again, and Terry re-enters the room. I hear an audible gasp, no doubt from one of our newbie's, at the sight of the rattan cane in Terry's hand. I pick up a cushion off one of the chairs by the side wall, and place it in the middle of the table at the front of the room, out of the corner of my eye I notice John, and Julie moving more to the centre of the back of the room, and Julie putting on her glasses for an enhanced view.
Terry with shaking hands passes me the cane.
"Thank you, now if you would like to get yourself ready."
"Please,.. Sir.. Can't we just.."
"Now, Terry, or its extra."
She quickly attacks the buttons on her jeans, loosening them at lightning speed, then pulls down her jeans and knickers in one fast movement, and rushes to get herself over the cushion. No doubt thinking the quicker she get in position the quicker her pain, and humiliation will be over.How wrong she is.
I look at Terry's audience, all expectant faces, lustful, inquisitive, and some just glad it's not them bent over the table, but all eyes staring, apart from one. Amy is looking at the floor in front of her, but having quick furtive looks at Terry. Hmm, interesting, she wants to look, but not be seen to be looking. I take the cane and put it between Terry's calf's, and tap her legs wider apart.
"A little further apart, Terry, we want you nice and stable. I don't want you twisting an ankle." Or spoiling the view, I think to myself, as I give her, her final instructions. Again turning to the audience, I say. "As you know, or will know when you read the rest of your welcome packs in your rooms, we have quite a few methods of discipline, depending upon the rule infringement. The most severe is the cane. For a first offence warranting the cane, it is three strokes in the privacy of my office. Second repeat offence, in here, in public, to whosoever wants to watch, and it is six strokes. Are you ready, Terry?"
"Ye- yes, sir." Replies the quivering voice.
I stand back from her, and raise the cane, the expectation in the room is palpable. The cane comes down, Terry screeches in pain, and I watch the thin white line across her arse cheeks turn pink, then a darker hue of red.
"Well done, Terry, keep position like that, only five more to go. I bet you won't be bringing alcohol onto the academy grounds again. Will you?"
"No- no, sir I wo... aaargh!"
She cries out again, as the second stroke catches her by surprise, cutting her off mid-sentence. I stand away from her, admiring my handiwork, two straight red line across her rounded athletic buttocks.
"Now for the newcomers," I say readdressing the audience, and also dragging out Terry's torment. "this kind of punishment, is the exception rather than the rule. Knuckle down, follow the rules, and most of all show willingness, and you should never find yourself in this situation."
The room is now silent, apart from Terry's gentle sobbing, how much is from pain, or from the humiliation of being lewdly exposed, and punished in front of her peers, I don't know.
I bring her punishment to a close, with four fast strokes, the last laid across the tops of her hamstrings, bringing a scream from her, and a gasp from the audience.
"Terry, up you get please." I request the sobbing girl. "go over to the whiteboard, hands on the top of your head for fifteen minutes."
We all watch, as she struggles, jeans and underwear still around her knees, each step causing her clothing to drop a little lower, till eventually reaching her ankles.
"Right ladies that is all for now, Julie will show the new girls around the academy, and I should see you all in the dining hall for evening meals. Thank you for your time."
As everyone gets up to leave the room, I call out.
"Mr. McPharland, can you spare a couple of minutes?" I take John to one side, and whisper so that Terry cannot hear. "John, Amy Barrowman, one of your newbie's, keep a close eye on her will you?" I wink.
He smiles, and nods.
The rest of the day followed with no further excitement. Julie showed the new girls around the playing fields, the medical room, the gym, and the dining room. All brand new fittings from it's previous usage. Their rooms, two old cells knocked through to provide a luxury studio apartment, small but well fitted and en suite. The lap of luxury? Well laps will take up a lot of some of the girls time!

Saturday, 28 August 2010

Lori's pick-an unedited story

This is an early unedited role-play between myself, and Lori.
If it proves popular, we will post more. For the benefit of our readers we've highlighted which of us wrote each section.

For our next scenario, I would like it to be set in Victorian times, within a well to do home in which you are the widowed and very handsome Master of the house, and I am a young and rather attractive governess to your two adorable but very badly behaved teenage daughters. You are very strict of course, and decide I am far too lenient, therefore I need to be shown exactly how to punish my unruly charges by receiving it myself.


You have been called into my study.
"Amy you have been with us now for nearly 3 months, and I must admit that in academic matters, Florence and Caroline have come on leaps and bounds. But I'm afraid their general behaviour is not that of young ladies, and should this not improve markedly, I will be forced to cancel your contract, and send the girls out to boarding school. So what do you suggest you can do to redress this situation?"

"I'm glad you're pleased with their schooling Sir, but I suppose I should try to be more firm with them, the problem is I've never disciplined anyone before and I'm not sure of how to go about it."

"But surely when you where at school, you must have tasted either the rod or the strap?"

"No never, Sir, and I never witnessed it either as the girls were always punished by the Headmaster, in the privacy of his study, so I really don't know how to deal with your daughters unruly behaviour .But if you could give me some idea of how to chastise them, I would be more than willing to give it a try for their sake."

I now see my chance.
"Amy, to give effective punishment, you have to have at some time received it. The only way I can see this working, would be if I took you in hand, for teaching purposes only of course .What say you to that, miss?"

I suddenly become very nervous and my mouth goes dry, I start fidgeting with my necklace as I blush deeply, and try to compose myself.
"Well... I suppose if you think it's the only way, then I shall have to agree to it, but exactly what do you intend to do, Sir?"

"Well, Amy, I intend to give you a taste of all the implements that are at your disposal, that would be, the hairbrush for minor infractions, the strap for more major crimes, and of course the final deterrent of the cane. You realise that all of these will have to be put across your bare buttocks to have the full effect?"

I gasp as I am shocked by your suggestion. I can feel myself blushing more deeply, but I try to regain my composure. I struggle to hold your gaze as I notice a twinkle in your eye, and I'm not sure how to respond to you.

"I... I'm not sure, Sir, I don't know if I could..." I swallow hard. "Does... does it have to be on the bare, Sir?"
"Madam, I have never heard such nonsense, of course it has to be on the bare. If for example, you had course to strap Caroline on her hands, would you allow her to scurry off and put some gloves on first? Also I believe you know that when McGiver has need to chastise any of the maids, they must lift their skirts, and open up their drawers to bare their little bottoms for the cane. Also this is done in front of the other maids for two reasons, one to further humiliate the recipient, two to serve as a warning to those watching, this is how I expect you to treat the girls also. So, madam if you could be so good as to go to the old nursery, and bring me the clothes brush and the long and short strap. Oh, I almost forgot, can you also go to the butlers pantry and tell McGiver you need a cane."
Your face gets even redder.
"He will assume it is for the girls, and so what if he doesn't, even in this crazy modern world a gentleman can still chastise his staff as needed."

I hesitate for a while, then decide it is best to obey you, so I leave the room and head to the old nursery. I retrieve the clothes brush, and the straps, but as I gaze at them my heart races. Then I eventually summon up the courage to go to Mr McGiver's room, I take a deep breath then blurt out that I need the cane. He gives me a questioning stare then asks me.
"And what exactly do you want it for, Miss?"
I tell him that you have asked me to fetch it so he nods, and turns to retrieve it from the shelf on the pantry wall, but as he hands it to me I notice the grin on his face, and I feel my face burn with embarrassment. When I return to your study you are obviously getting impatient and my fear and anticipation grows stronger.

"Madam, I did not realise that this house was so large to have taken you so long. Never mind, you are here now so we may begin. As I told you earlier this is an instruction, rather than a true punishment, but you will find it painful to a certain extent." I take the brush in my left hand, and hit it with a loud thwack onto my right palm. You visibly pale. I then sit down on a straight back wooden chair that I have pulled into the middle of the room. I then invite you over my knee. I lift your dress and petticoats, the feast I uncover is magnificent, lovely shapely calves- no doubt shaped by all the walking in the glens you do, above them cream drawers with pale blue bow trimming. I go to open the back flap on your draws, and I feel you shake beneath me. Perfect, they open adequately for the purpose intended for but not for what I require, also I feel whale bones digging in my thigh, all is going as planned. I ask you to rise to your feet again. "I'm sorry, Amy, but I will require you to remove your drawers completely, also I feel you may be more comfortable if you remove your dress and stays, as you will be bending over a lot that will make it easier for you to breath." I smile at you, I am only thinking of you own good of course.

I draw in a quick gasp at your proposal, and feel my face burning with embarrassment, but at the same time I am aware of a stirring in my sex.
"I um... if you think it is necessary then I will do as you ask, Sir!" I turn away in a useless attempt to protect my modesty, then I begin to undo the buttons on my dress, but my hands are trembling so much that I find it almost impossible, I pause briefly and take a deep, calming breath. When I eventually step out of my dress I turn around to find you smiling at me, I'm not sure how to react, but your expression quickly changes so I continue undressing until I am standing in my petticoats. "Do... do you want me to bend over your knee again now, Sir?" I ask nervously. My sex is feeling even more aroused now and I am aware of a moistness developing between my legs. I can't help feeling nervous as you slap the back of the hairbrush against your palm again.

"Yes madam, I would like you over my knee again, and I would appreciate it if you hurried up." You slowly bend over me again, I re-lift your petticoats, what a lovely sight, two pale rounded cheeks, a crime to change their hue. I bring the brush down with a medium forced slap, I feel the air expel from within you. "The trick is to keep a nice firm beat, like a military tattoo, and alternate from cheek to cheek." You squirm in my lap at the mention of your bared anatomy. "Thirty or so slaps should give you the feel of it, what say you madam?"

I lie across your knee and stare at the floor, my heart is beating so fast I think it will burst out through my chest. Part of me wants to leap up and run away, but another part of me finds the whole experience strangely exciting and erotic. "Yes Sir," I say softly. "I... I'm sure that would be sufficient to give me the feel of it!"

After about twenty or so strokes, a strange thing happens, your hips start moving against my leg like you were... what is that vulgar naval expression? Ah yes dry humping.
McGiver had once told me that, sometimes one or two of the maids he had call to correct, would sometimes get exited by the punishment. At the time I put it down to fanciful thinking on his part. Perhaps this afternoons little diversion could prove more entertaining than I first thought. We shall see. "Right, Amy you may stand now." You jump up straight away, red faced and shiny eyed, immediately rubbing your stinging hot rump. "So how did you find that?"

I can't believe what you've just done to me, my bottom is sore and rubbing it doesn't help, but there is another part of me that I'd love to rub even more. "Well, Sir... I... I can certainly understand the benefits of spanking a naughty girl now, and I'm sure I could manage to administer such chastisement to your daughters." I have a desperate urge building in my sex and I long to relieve it so I give you a soft smile. "Please may I go now, Sir?"

"You are jesting me girl, there is still the matter of the strap, and the cane." I go to one of the drawers in my desk, and retrieve what I was looking for. I then return to the seat, you look at the four kilt pins in my hand in puzzlement. I beckon you towards me. "I think for ease,it would be better to have these petticoats tucked up for the remainder of your instruction." I start to lift the front of your petticoats. Your hand drops to stop me. "Hands on your head please, madam." You obey but are now shaking like a leaf, and the first tears start to roll down your pretty face. I lift the flimsy garments, uncovering the front of your thighs, then higher still till the downy fork comes into view. I wonder am I the first man to see this delight, I feel the strange compunction to lean forward and kiss those lightly furred lips, but that would be unthinkable. Wouldn't it?
After securing the front garments, I ask you to turn around so I can pin the rear, as well, your blazing cheeks look hot to the touch, but I dare not let my fingers stray onto them.
"Well, madam, what do you think would be a good number to demonstrate the strap, remember you will still have the cane to follow.?"

I stare at your handsome face and tremble as I think of a response to your question, my bottom stings and I feel embarrassed to be standing with my hands on my head and my modesty on display, but deep inside I feel a thrill of excitement, and have to resist the urge to throw myself upon you.
The throbbing sensation in my sex increases, it almost overwhelms me and I long masturbate but know it will not be possible for some time. My voice is almost a whisper as I summon up the courage to answer you. "I... I'm not sure how many, Sir, seeing as you intend to use the cane on me too maybe... six strokes with each strap would be sufficient?" I gaze almost pleadingly at you, hoping you agree with my proposal rather that find it unacceptable and decide to give me more strokes.

"Well I'm glad you chose a sensible number, six will certainly give you the feel of the implement, I intend to only use the long strap, or tawse to give it its correct name, though you may hear the maids refer to it as the belt. The shorter strap is only for hand punishments, we should have no need of it today, as long as you keep in position, and don't try shielding yourself with your hands." I smile reassuringly at you as I gather up the longer tawse. "As you will see, it is spilt into two tails at the end, after application to the buttocks, these tails will whip around onto the flank, so unlike the brush this should always be applied across both buttocks, as hitting one would result in the tongues going into the inner thigh."
You wince at that thought, and I notice you rub your legs together. "Would you like to inspect the instrument before we start?"

"Yes... please, Sir." I take the cruel looking implement from you, I hold it lightly and turn it over in my hands inspecting it closely. It feels cool to the touch, and I wonder how it will feel against my sore cheeks. I shift closer to you and smell your musky scent again, the feeling in my sex becomes even stronger and I can feel myself getting wetter, and wetter. Suddenly you put your hand on my shoulder and my heart skips a beat. I know it's time for you to administer the strap to my tender and vulnerable bottom.

As I touch your shoulder, I feel you shudder, is this dread, fear, or anticipation? I want to touch so much more. "Right, Amy, it shall be six of the tawse, followed by four of the cane, then your instruction shall be over, and you may then leave to your room. If you so wish." I guide you back to the chair. "Could you please bend over, with your palms on the seat of the chair, legs apart and your bottom high, I don't want to hit your back." You comply with my instructions, I now have a perfect view of your sex from the rear and what a stunning vista it makes. I bring down the tawse for the first stroke...

I get a strange thrill from knowing that you have a clear view of my bottom, and I wonder just how much you can see from your position behind me. Without warning the tawse hits me across both buttocks, and I can't believe how much it hurts, I immediately straighten up and clutch my stinging cheeks as tears roll freely down my face. You kindly give me a moment to compose myself, then I assume the position again before taking the next stroke. This stroke stings just as much as the first, I am more prepared for this one, but still cry out and reach around with my right hand to try and sooth the sting. The third and fourth strokes land mercifully quickly, and I brace for the fifth, but something strange is happening deep within my sex, the stroke lands but I don't cry out this time, instead I long to feel it again and the anticipation of the final stroke sends a huge shudder rippling through my groin. I know I'm getting wetter between my legs, and I wonder if you can see it too.

As I see your labia now glistening, I quickly bring in the fifth and sixth stroke, which you bear with much aplomb. I wonder how to play this. "Alright, Amy, you may now rise."
You rise and grab at your buttocks. "Hands on head please, there will be time for rubbing later," then the excuse hits me "in fact if you wish, after your caning I could apply some soothing liniment to your behind..."

The thought of your gentle hands on my bare skin makes my heart skip a beat again. I long for you to touch me but I must avoid sounding too keen. "Um... well that's very kind of you to offer, Sir. I um... I would appreciate that very much, thank you, Sir!"

"On reflection, Amy, I have decided that I shall postpone your caning till next thursday. As much of the use of the cane involves wrist action, I have decided to teach you fly fishing so you can get used to the movement, so next thursday morning we shall go to the loch, then after the fishing we can have a picnic, then return here for your practical demonstration, which shall be four of the best." I can feel my erection pressing hard against my britches, I have never felt like this since my return from India. "Is that to your satisfaction, madam? If so could you please lie face down on the chaise long and I shall attend to your posterior..."

My mind is in turmoil as I consider your plans, I long to spend time in your company learning to fish, and the thought of having a picnic with you is simply wonderful. But the idea of being caned next week leaves me feeling both anxious, and disappointed. Part of me is relieved not to have to endure any more punishment, but the other part longs for the attention. I have a yearning in my sex, then suddenly I remember your offer to apply a soothing liniment to my poor tender cheeks. I resist the urge to smile as I turn to face you. "I would be most grateful for your tuition in the art of caning, Sir, and I look forward to my practical demonstration." I pause briefly as the feeling between my legs proves a huge distraction for me. "I... I would appreciate it if you would tend to my... my bottom, Sir as it is most tender and some soothing liniment would be most welcome." I gaze longingly at you for a moment before turning and lying face down on the chaise long. Then I lie there with great anticipation of what I hope may follow.

I start to apply the soothing balm, I feel you shake at my touch, as I rub the liniment in with my right hand, I let my left hand stray accidently a little lower. My fingers brush across your sex, you feel wet to the touch, dare I take it further? I give your right buttock a little tap and ask you to turn over. You comply but look, scared, bewildered, or excited I'm not sure which. I kneel onto the floor at your feet, and take your left leg and place it on my shoulder. I kiss you gently on the back of your knee, I notice your cream knee length stockings carry the same blue ribbon motif as your drawers. I kiss a little higher up your inner thigh, then a little higher still next to your fork, I can now smell your essence, lavender soap, and the sea. I think of south sea pearl divers, as I force my rigid tongue into your hot secret place, I find the pearl I'm looking for, I lick and probe at it to coax it from its shell then you....

....let out a loud gasp of pleasure as you find my most pleasant of places, I've never been touched like this before, and although it scares me slightly I feel safe with you and long to feel you deeper inside me. I place my hands around the back of your head, and run my fingers through your soft hair, I pull you even closer to me and moan softly as you tease and coax my pearl from it's shell and bring me to the most amazing orgasm I've ever had. You look up and smile at me, knowing that you have made me climax, I smile broadly back at you hoping beyond hope that the next thing you do is take your britches off!! Suddenly you....

I stand and grab your hands, and lift you up towards me. I kiss you gently on the mouth, you open your lips to receive my tongue, and you can taste yourself on my mouth, as your hands go to work on my britches. I too am now naked from the waist down, you curiously feel about me, and I wonder if you are still a virgin. I ask you to bend again for me, alarm spreads on your face, I smile and kiss your ear. "Don't worry it will be alright." I assure you. I place my member between your love lips, and just start to enter. "Please..." you murmur. Please what I wonder, please do, please don't, please be gentle? I push deeper inside you then I feel the resistant barrier I push a little harder....

....I let out a small groan of pain as you push further into me and break the barrier, but it is immediately followed by a moan of pleasure as I feel you deep inside me for the first time. Part of me feels ashamed to lose my virginity out of wedlock, but I so yearned for this that I put such thoughts out of my mind. I reach between my legs and start to massage my nubbin as you thrust inside me, my senses are all aroused and I feel dizzy with the sheer intensity of it all. I can't help groaning louder as the feeling of pure pleasure increases inside me, I've never felt this before but I'm sure I'm about to have my first vaginal orgasm and I long for it to come!! Moments later I feel it, like a bolt of lightening pulsating through my entire body ,it ripples in waves, and I struggle to breath. I let out a yell of delight, and you gently withdraw from me, stroking my thighs, and buttocks with your wet member. I turn and smile at you, knowing you have had pleasure from it too as I feel the warmth trickling down my thighs. You gently pull me upright again and hold me close in a tight embrace, what will happen next I wonder as I cling to you...

I pull the hair off your brow, and gently kiss the top of your head. "Please stay a little longer." I ask you. I then walk over to the communication tube and whistle down to the kitchen.
"Could somebody draw me a warm bath for about ten minutes time, just knock on my study door when it is prepared." I then leave the study through the adjoining doors, through to my bedroom via my bathroom, having got you a chinese silk dressing gown I return to you. As I re-enter the study you are standing by the window looking across at the loch. Your petticoats still pinned up, you look bruised, bedraggled and beautiful, all at the same time. "Amy ,before you go I would like to bathe you, as its my doing that you are in such a state." You smile and blush slightly. "Would you be so kind as to remove the rest of your clothes. Or if you would rather I did it for you..".

"I... I would appreciate it if you would help me to get undressed, Sir." You move closer to me and begin taking off my petticoats, the room is cold and I shiver slightly, but the touch of your hand against my skin makes me feel warm deep inside. You smell so good, a mixture of sandalwood, and sexual musk which arouses my senses yet again. I now stand naked before you, and for the first time I don't feel embarrassed, you gaze at me with affectionate eyes, then place the silk dressing gown around my shoulders. I want to kiss you, but don't know if I should....

There is a knock on the door, you jump suddenly scared that I should bid them enter. I smile at you.
"Thank you, Rose!" I shout at the door. "that will be all for now." I lead you by the hand into the bathroom, and bid you to step into the low tin bath. While you are still standing, I lather up the soap and begin to wash your inner thighs and your gorgeous downy bush. "Does this feel good?..."

"Oh yes, Sir, that feels so good!" I say softly. The feeling of the warm soapy water against my skin makes me close my eyes in sheer bliss, you concentrate your attentions on my pubic region, and suddenly I long for you to enter me with your fingers...

I want this afternoon to last so much longer, for who knows what hatred you will feel for me, tomorrow when you look back on today's events. I hold your hips, and turn you around, so now your bottom is inches away from my face. The redness from the hairbrush is all but gone now, but the strap weal's have turned to a shade of purple .Paradoxically for all the tenderness I feel towards you, I am still excited at the thought of thursdays impending caning ,how can that be I wonder? After washing down your bottom, and tracing the belt weal's with my finger, I invite you to sit so that I can attend to your upper body. I lather up the sponge again, and wash down the back and tops of your shoulders. I feel tension in your neck muscles, so I gently but firmly massage your trapezial muscles kneading them from your shoulders to the top of your spine. After a few minutes of my attention your head starts to loll a little. "Are you tired,would you like to rest in my bed for a while?...."

"Mmmm, I am tired, Sir." I reply quietly as you massage my shoulders again. I feel exhausted after everything that's happened, and part of me knows I should leave, but I long to stay in your company, just having you close to me makes my heart feel light and somehow seems to make the pain in my bottom disappear. "I... I would appreciate a lie down for a while if you're sure that's all right?" I smile at you, and notice a kindness and affection in your eyes that I've never seen before.

I lift you up from the bath, and dry you down with a warm towel. They say that of all your senses, smell invokes the most memories, I know that after today the smell of lavender soap will bring this afternoon into sharp focus. I lead you by the hand to my bedroom. "Please make yourself comfortable, while I get rid of these clothes." As you lie on the bed, I notice your little pink nipples are erect, this causes further tumescence in my britches, I don't want this day to end.

The smell of lavender hangs in the air as I relax on your bed, I'm aware of how aroused I feel in my sex again, and I also feel my nipples hardening. I wonder how things can ever be the same again after what we've just done together. When you return to the bedroom I notice the bulge in your britches, I can't help staring at it and I know what you want, then I look into your eyes and hope that you can read my mind because I want it too!

I remove my clothes, and join you on the bed, it is so strange having someone next to me after so long alone. My fingers trace along the tops of your thigh, till I reach your knee. I gently scratch and tickle the back of your knee, I then pull you up over me, lying back I look up at your pale pink tipped breasts, as you smile at me, and straddle yourself over me. You then lower yourself down onto my erection....

....Oh how wonderful it feels to have you inside me again, this time there is no pain, only ecstasy. We move together like poetry in motion and although I've had no experience in this until today it all feels so natural. We both reach orgasm in no time at all and I feel your warm nectar deep inside me, then I lower myself onto the bed next to you, and our lips close in a tight embrace which I hope will last forever...

A few days latery mind is in turmoil, having not seen you since that saturday afternoon, I don't know how you feel about me now. After all it is one thing to chastise a female member of staff for some misdemeanour, but quite another to punish someone for ones own amusement, and then to steal their virginity like a thief in the night is no less than abuse of power. I pray that you don't see it that way. With being called away to Edinburgh at such short notice, I don't even know if you will be there to meet me this morning for our fishing trip. I come downstairs to the main hall, and there you are awaiting me. I long to rush over to you, to grab you to hold you, to kiss you. "Good morning, madam, I trust you are well, and have your charges been behaving themselves?"

My heart flutters in my chest as soon as I hear your voice, I spin around and catch my breath, despite the fear of you caning me I long to run into your arms, and embrace you, but I resist for proprieties sake. "Good morning, Sir, I'm very well thank you and I hope you are too, and that you had a pleasant trip." I take a step closer to you and breath in your heady scent, then I remember my duty to your daughters. "I'm... afraid I have to report that Florence, and Caroline have not been well behaved, Sir, they both took advantage of the fact you were away and refused to do their studies to your required standards. I was most disappointed in Caroline as she turned up at least one hour late for each lesson, so I... I took your advice and I... spanked her, Sir." I look down awkwardly not knowing what your reaction will be, but hoping I have done the right thing in your absence.

"Very well, madam, as I have already told you, I now hold you solely responsible for the girls discipline, and whatever means you choose are at your discretion. I don't however want them looking upon you as a friend, or an older sister." I leave the hidden implication hanging in the air. As we are escorted to the loch by Cameron the gilly, I feel at a loss as what to say to you. Instead of talking I take this opportunity to take in the way you look today. Under your open coat, I notice you don't seem to wearing a girdle of any sort is this for comfort I wonder or for ease of removal later after our picnic?

I enjoy the walk to the river, not only is it a beautiful day, but I love being in your company. I feel strangely comfortable today as I took the liberty of not wearing my corset. Knowing that you would be instructing me to remove it later before the dreaded caning. We eventually reach the Loch and I gaze out over the water, it ripples gently in the light breeze. I turn and smile at you, longing for my lesson to commence. "I hope I prove to be a good student when it comes to the art of fishing, Sir, I've never even held a fishing rod before so I'm quite nervous about my lesson."

"Well the object of the lesson, is to show you the required wrist action, this is also needed for other things apart from fly fishing." I smile and look into your eyes. Cameron is now preparing to leave us, after showing us the best spot on the loch for trout. As he leaves us I feel more at ease, though still a little nervous about your feelings. The day goes well we catch four trout, and I invite you to share them with me for dinner tonight, neither of us mention last saturday. You pick at your picnic food, and seem preoccupied, perhaps thinking of what is to come. I pack up all our fishing equipment ,while you sketch the lake in your ever-present notepad. "Amy I think it is time to return to the house now, remember there are still a few things to attend to before dinner...

Fear suddenly overwhelms me as I realise you are going to go through with your proposal, I drop my notepad and fumble awkwardly as I stoop to pick it up. You seem to notice my fear and you smile reassuringly at me. The walk back to the house seems to take no time at all, but before we enter the front door I take a deep breath and finally pluck up the courage to ask you something that's been burning deep inside me since saturday. I talk in a low voice as I do not want to be overheard. "Sir! Do you... do you really think it is still necessary to cane me?" I take another deep breath and try to steady myself. "It's just that... well I've never been..." My voice trails off and I cannot complete my sentence, I pray you will take pity on me...

I am more than a little taken aback by your outburst. Whilst in Edinburgh I took time out to visit two or three book shops, the amount of literature, pertaining to the corporal punishment of females is staggering, even Beaton's household management magazine makes reference to it, the underlying theme would be that for the magic to work for the female, the male must take the lead. "Madam I am a man of my word, surely you would think less of me, if I didn't carry out that which I said I would do? If could be so kind as to tell McGiver that you are in need of his cane again, I will see you in my upstairs study forthwith." As you stare at me red-faced, I wonder what underwear you are wearing, last week I was fascinated that you wore matching stockings and drawers, when no one was likely to see them, today on the other hand it is very likely that I will see them.

I steady myself and head off to find Mr McGiver. When I eventually find him, and ask him for the cane he grins wickedly. Is it possible that he knows what I need it for?
A few minutes later I am standing outside your study, I pluck up some well needed courage, and knock on your door. You immediately tell me to enter, and when I open the door and walk in I find you standing beside your desk with your sleeves rolled up, I notice your jacket is draped over the back of your chair, and your desk has been cleared! I step forward and hand over the cane, then I await further instruction with an increasing sense of foreboding.

"After that little outburst of yours, I have decided to increase the amount of strokes from four to six. The first three you shall receive in the touching toes position. The second three shall be over the desk. The reason for the two positions, is that should you have course to give out more than six strokes, you will find that over the desk, with a pillow under the tummy is easier for the recipient to hold position. As I have said it will be two sets of three, with ten minutes corner time between so you can reflect upon your little strop downstairs."

You look totally downcast, and beautiful. "Please prepare yourself, madam, I believe you know what is required....

"Yes, Sir, I'm sorry about my outburst, Sir!" I take a few deep calming breaths then begin removing my dress, once it's off I fold it neatly and place it on the chaise long, then I hitch up my petticoats and notice the faint trace of a smile on your face as you take stock of my matching under garments. You step forward and pin my petticoats up out of the way just as you did on saturday, then you beckon for me to move to the centre of the room. My legs are shaking as I take up position, then I bend over and grab hold of my ankles, you nudge my feet further apart until you are satisfied, then you go back and retrieve the cane from your desk. Suddenly fear and embarrassment overwhelm me again. I know you have seen me naked before, but this position is so humiliating. All I can do now is wait for you to commence my caning.

I take hold of the waist band of your mint green drawers, and lower them to your knees. "You seem to have forgotten the rules already, madam, punishment is on the bare."
As I take position behind you, your magnificent bottom twitches in apprehension, or is it expectation? I bring the cane full force across your bottom for the first stroke...

...I hear the swish as the cane flies through the air, then there is a loud crack as it hits my defenceless cheeks. At first I don't feel anything, then suddenly there is a searing pain across my bottom, and I feel as though I have been struck with a white hot iron. I can't help but yell out, I immediately leap upright and start rubbing my burning cheeks to try and sooth them, tears well up in my eyes and I turn and look pleadingly at you...

"I was hoping you would stay still, and bear your punishment lesson with a little more grace than this, two more, please return to your position, madam."
I hope I am not going too far with this, but it is the path I have chosen to take with you, I just pray that I have read the situation right. As you return to your lewd pose I flash the second stroke across your buttocks...

...Again there is a searing pain across my poor bottom and I jump up to rub my tender cheeks. I glance at you to find a stoic expression on your face and it's hard to tell whether you feel any sympathy or not. I long for this terrible ordeal to be over so I quickly resume my position, but as I bend over for the final time I am suddenly aware of a different sensation, this time in my sex. It's as though the cane has awakened something deep inside me and I find myself becoming more and more aroused. When the third stroke lashes down upon my exposed flesh I feel a mixture of pain and eroticism which is hard to ignore. This time I stay in position, my emotions are in turmoil and I lose all sense of time and perspective for a moment. Suddenly I feel your hand on my back, you ask me to straighten up and I wonder if you were aware that my sex was becoming wet with arousal. When I turn to look at you there is a hint of a smile on your face. Tears are flowing freely from my eyes now, part of me hates you for being so brutal, but the other part longs to take you close to me and kiss your wonderful soft lips. There is a long pause where neither of us seem sure of what to do next, then you clear your throat and point towards your desk. "What... do you want me to do now, Sir?" I ask in almost a whisper, my voice trembling...

"In ten minutes time you will be over that desk, for your final three strokes ,but before that I would like you to stand in that corner, holding the cane for me, facing the wall with your bottom on display." I hand you the cane, you take it from me with shaking hands. "I will now go and get a pillow for under your tummy. I hope none of the maids come into clean, or for that matter McGiver with the post." I add as I leave the room, no one is allowed on this wing without my express bidding, but you don't know that.

I am mortified at the thought of someone entering the room, and seeing me like this, my hands are shaking and my legs feel like jelly. I'm sure I will faint at any second and I long to cover myself and leave the room, but I dare not do such a thing. You seem to be gone for an eternity, then suddenly I hear footsteps. The door opens and I pray it is you, and not someone else, I daren't look around to check who it is. Is it you? If only you would speak and put me out of my misery.

After placing the pillow on the desk, I walk up behind you and brush my hand across your lovely bottom. I lean forward and whisper in your ear. "This bottom is just made for pain," I trace my right hand middle finger down the cleft, then under to your wet sex. "and it would seem that your quim agrees with me." Your ears start to redden at my crudity, I take the cane from you. "It would be best if you step out of those drawers, I don't want you tripping up."

I try to steady my breathing, then I step out of my drawers before moving towards the desk. My legs feel like jelly, and I stumble, but you catch me then take me gently by the arm and help me to your desk. My sex feels so wet now that I'm sure it will soon be running down between my thighs, I want to touch myself so badly but know that I must not.
You firmly guide me forwards until I am bent over your desk with my tummy supported by the pillow, I realise that in this position not only is my bottom perfectly presented for the cane, but you also have a clear view of my sex too. I feel my face and neck turning crimson again as I wait for you to strike me three more times with your cruel cane...

I bring down the cane for the fourth time, you cry out in pain, I think to stop but don't want to break the spell.
"Amy on your wanderings around the estate, I'm sure you have seen many a five bar gate, but none quite like the one I am about to create here." I slash the cane diagonally across the four lines already on your bottom,you...

...cry out again, but this time it's more from longing than pain. My sex feels so wet and aroused now that it aches for attention. Is it the pain in my bottom, or my position that makes me so aroused? I'm desperate for you to take me, I can't hold back any more so I try to push myself up from your desk but you...

I gently push you back over the pillow, I stand back, and look down at your marked behind, the final stroke I deliver to the top of your thighs with much less force than the others, not wanting to damage the muscle tissue. "It's over my sweet," I say as I run my finger through your hair, and gently ease you up from the desk. "would you like to get dressed and go to your room, or would you prefer I treat you with liniment again?"

I take a deep breath and swallow hard, then I hold onto to you with trembling hands, and gaze up into your kind eyes. "Thank you, Sir, I... I would appreciate it if you would treat my... my bottom with liniment again." You smile softly at me, then gently help me over to the chaise long and lay me down on my front, placing the pillow under my tummy again to raise my bottom into the air. I sigh with relief, finally realising that my ordeal is over, then I begin to relax as I wait for you to sooth my tender bottom cheeks.

I apply the soothing balm as before, tracing the purple cane weal's standing clear of your pale white bottom. I then unpin your petticoats and loosen the drawstring and pull them clear of you. Next I unbutton your blouse releasing your pink tipped milky breasts, for someone who spends so much time outside your skin is like fine bone china. I then like a hungry child lean forward and suck on you erect nipple, you....

...I let out a moan of pleasure and slip my hand between my thighs, I soon find my most intimate and magical place and begin to rub it. Suddenly you pull my hand away from my sex, I frown at you but you smile softly and place your own there instead, your fingers soon work their way between my sex lips and you begin to rub my nubbin. I shudder and cry out as wave after wave of sweet orgasms ripple over me, you rub harder and I shake with pure pleasure. While you please me I undo your britches and find your cock, it's so hard now that it stands erect and proud. I lean closer and take your cock in my mouth, tasting the pre-cum on your tip. I begin to suck you slow but hard and you also let out a groan of pleasure.
I part my legs so you can go deeper into me and you suddenly slip a finger inside me, then two, then three, then you pump and thrust hard and deep. I feel myself reaching a climax again and I yell out loudly with delight. Within moments I lose myself in the sheer ecstasy of it all, then you...

I pull away from you, I take your hand, and raise you up onto your feet, I then pick up the pillow and start to walk you back over to the desk. You pull at my hand and look aghast as you stare at the cane on the floor by my desk. I then realise what you are thinking. "Don't worry my pretty one," I whisper in your ear. "not pain only pleasure." I place the pillow back on the desk and bend you over again. I introduce the head of my cock to your slick wet lips. Then plunge deep till my pubic bone is tight against your welted cheeks...

...I gasp as I feel you thrusting deeper into me, you press against my tender cheeks, but I feel only pleasure from the pain of it. You lean forward, reach under me, and firmly cup my breasts, squeezing them gently you start to play with my hard nipples. I'm moaning loudly now as I feel my orgasm approaching, you thrust longer and faster inside of me, and suddenly there it is. I cry out and shudder as wave after wave of wonderful orgasm hits me, then I feel the warmth as you cum inside me and my ecstasy is taken to new heights.
You lie on top of me for a moment and we both catch our breaths, then you smooth the hair from my face an kiss me tenderly on the cheek. I turn my head towards you and kiss your lips, then without warning you slip your tongue into my mouth...

I play my tongue around inside your mouth, but I know we must stop soon as dinner approaches. There are so many things running around my head, not least the fact that I have now cum three times inside you in the last week, we are playing a very dangerous game with your reputation at stake. "My sweet we need to make ready for dinner."

"Oh please, Sir, just a little longer!" I know in my head that this must end now, but my heart wants it to last forever, and ever....

I feel myself becoming erect again, two thoughts flash through my mind, both I wish to share with you one now, and one over dinner. I pull you up from the desk onto your feet, then gently press onto your shoulders, you know what I want and you fall to your knees. "Amy here is a chance for you to taste your inner self." I push my cock still coated with your juices towards your lips....

...I gaze up at your kind eyes, not knowing if I can do this, but you smile reassuringly down at me so I lean closer. This is all so new to me that I feel nervous, but it's something I really want. After a moments hesitation I let your cock slide into my mouth, it tastes so good that I start to lick it and suck on it. I'm not sure if I'm pleasing you, then I hear you groan and know I must be doing it right. I close my eyes and suddenly feel your hand on the back of my head, you gently caress my hair, then pull me closer to you. I'm pressing up against you now, tasting and smelling you, I begin massaging your balls in my right hand, and you shudder. I reach my left hand around the back of your thigh and trace my fingers down the cleft of your bottom, then I ease my way between your cheeks and slip my middle finger into your most intimate hole. I press deep inside you and feel you tense up, at first I think I should stop, then you let out a groan of pleasure so I push deeper into you and begin pumping you with my finger. I feel your cock swelling in my mouth, I'm sucking harder now and giving you long hard strokes, your hand pulls me closer still and you groan more loudly .Could it be you are about to reach orgasm?...

I feel the familiar tingle in my balls I know I'm about to cum. I curl my toes in the anticipation, I know I should warn you, like I know I should have withdrawn from you when we were having sex. Like on those occasions, having my cock inside you, be it mouth, or sex is just to glorious to pull out from. I cum hard, sending a thick warm jet of spunk into the roof of your mouth...

..I feel the warm jet of liquid squirt into my mouth, and I don't quite know what to do! I hesitate for a while, then I swallow it and feel it running down the back of my throat. It tastes so good that strangely I'm left wanting more. I pull away from you and gaze up at your face to find you smiling down at me, now all I want to do is kiss your tender lips, and share the tastes of my pleasure with you...

I pull you up to me again, and kiss you on the mouth, I can taste the sperm in your mouth as some is transferred back into mine. I know we really must be getting ready for dinner. The staff will wonder what is happening, but here in this wing I know we won't be disturbed, but still there is you reputation to think of.
"My sweet, remember I said I don't want the girls to think of you as a big sister, I would rather they think of you as their....."

...My heart races as I begin to understand your meaning. "You mean as... as their... Mother?"

Monday, 23 August 2010

Waiting is the worst part!

A story by Tomas.

A school somewhere in England 1974.

The girl looking out of the broken window, was a perfect example of a well turned out St Cuthbert's sixth former. Flat plain black shoes, cream tights, red knee length skirt, red v-neck jumper, and white blouse with the school red, and green tie.
Her dark brown curly hair reaching, and almost covering her blouse collar, her face though a little paler than usual, her hazel brown eyes, dewy almost tearful, her hands lain flat on the top of her head,fingers intertwined.

As she looks through the cracked window,across the quadrangle, she knows that anyone looking up from the playground, will see that there is a sixth former about to "get it", whether "it" is a belting across her hands, or the cane across her bottom, no one knows, not even the poor girl.
Most schools in the area, once the A-levels are finished, allow the pupils to leave. St Cuthbert's though if you want a good reference from the head, you are expected to stay till the end of term, and in these days of strikes, and three day weeks, a reference is badly needed, hence very bored eighteen year olds.
To break some of the monotony, a couple of the upper six pupils decided to revisit their youth, a game of tiggie-with-the-ball seemed like a good idea.
So as Paul went to get a ball the others ran out into the yard, Amy standing nearest to the door, as Paul burst through it, jokingly throwing a cricket ball, and shouting.
"Catch, Amy your on!"

Without even thinking, or letting the weight and hardness of the ball in her hand to register.
Amy flung the ball at her friend Maria. Luckily for Maria, Amy misjudged badly, sending the ball skyward, unluckily for Amy the ball went straight at the window of the small upstairs staffroom.

Just as Amy decided to leg it, she heard.
"Amelia Malone, don't you dare run off."
Amy turned to see her so called friend, Joan Corrigan standing there, on prefect duty. Amy was quickly marched upstairs, and left outside the staffroom door, as Joan entered.

After a couple of minutes, the door opened, and to her dismay, Mr Brook the deputy head ushered her into the room.
Mr Brook lectured Amy about playing ball games near windows, and told her what made it worse was that she had tried to run off.

Yes, Joan had really done a good job on her.

He than instructed Amy to stand by the window, while he went to get the "instrument of correction".
So Amy stood staring at the windows of the corridor by the chemistry labs, waiting,and watching for Brook's return.

It will be a belting she thought to herself, sixth formers don't get caned, which of course she knew was not quite true, it's just that in the two years that she had been in the sixth form no one had.

A belting though would be bad enough, she recalled the only time that she had got a belting.
It was about three years ago, she had sworn at the biology teacher.
Six whacks, three on each hand, then five hundred lines, she could almost feel the pain again of all that writing.
With her puffed up welted right hand, each word seeming to bring a fresh tear to her eye.

The idea of a belting here, in front of the seven or so teachers in the room filled her with dread, she also noticed that Joan was in no hurry to be anywhere else. At least standing there with her hand out would be less embarrassing than having to bend over for the cane.

Then of course there was the school legend, "sixth formers get it on the bare bum".

Of course there could be no truth to that, could there?

The idea of having to lift her skirt, then pull down her tights and knickers before bending over, it was mad.
Wasn't it?

Or then perhaps Mr Brook waits till you are touching your toes, then lifts the skirt himself, the idea of his bony nicotine fingers, pulling at the waistband of her little pale blue knickers, sends a shiver down her spine.
The idea of her, a young woman, old enough to vote, bent over, her bare bottom (and more, depending on where her audience is sitting.) on view to the whole room.

No it was just a legend.

It will be a belting that's all.

Then she sees Mr Brook, marching down the corridor, the yellow cane in his hand.

The first tear rolls down her cheek

Saddle Sore!

A story by Lori.

It was a glorious Sunday afternoon at the height of summer, not a cloud could be seen in the sky and apart from the gentle birdsong in the surrounding countryside it was peaceful and quiet, and peace and quiet were exactly what Paul Marston needed right now. He was an artist who specialised in fine watercolour paintings, fifty one years old, widowed but hopeful, and very accomplished in his field, so much so that his paintings often sold for thousands of pounds at the fine art gallery in London where he was now very well know for his talents. But Paul now had his work cut out, a buyer had just commissioned him to produce four exceptionally good paintings depicting the four season of the year and the deadline for completion was drawing near. The buyer was Martha Wilcox, a talented interior designer who had been snapped up by a very famous celebrity to completely decorate and furnish his swanky new flat in Chelsea. She was required to complete her lucrative project by the end of August which meant that Paul had only been given three weeks in which to complete all four paintings to the high standards expected of him. Despite his very best efforts Paul had only managed to produce spring, summer and autumn, and now he only had three days to come up with an exceptional depiction of winter.

Paul stood in his studio, actually it was a rather spacious and beautiful Georgian style conservatory which was attached to the back of his very spacious and beautiful, four bedroom detached house, but being an artist he preferred to refer to it as his studio. He stared gloomily at the foreboding blank canvas before him and let out a huge sigh. He'd had half a mind to try and convince Martha that it was a painting of heavy snowfall, but he soon shrugged off that idea as a lost cause. The trouble was it had been an uncommonly good summer, filled with delightfully sunny days, so there was no inspiration for him to paint anything remotely chilly. He gazed around for any source of inspiration, then suddenly it struck him, he went dashing up to his bedroom, took a small cardboard box from under the bed and began rummaging through it."There, got it!" he announced, before taking his prize back down to his studio. Once there he studied it closely, it was a Christmas card with a painted winter scene on the front, the perfect thing to inspire him!

Within a few hours Windsor and Newton watercolour paints had been blended and painstakingly applied to the canvas and a painting worthy of any top London gallery was well in progress, as usual it would be the finer detail that would take time and concentration, but that was no problem for a man as dedicated and diligent as Paul. He was a man of old fashioned values and he firmly believes that hard work and discipline will always be rewarded. He was just adding one such detail to a building on the left of his painting when BOOM BOOM BOOM! rang out in the air, Geoff jumped with the shock of it and promptly smudged a thick line of black paint right across his artwork.
"Oh damn and blast it!" he yelled over the noise of Duffy's latest top ten hit. He'd immediately realised that the terrible din was coming from the house next door, AGAIN!
After a rueful glance at his ruined painting Paul marched out of his conservatory and headed along the path at the side of his house, he soon reached the pavement and headed for the driveway of number five. By the time he'd walked the short distance to the front door his temper had increased, and so of course had the volume. He pounded on the front door but there was no answer, so he pounded again and still there was no response, obviously whoever was inside had no chance of hearing him so he tried the door handle, much to his surprise the door opened so he entered and looked around for any signs of the occupant. The house was owned by Derek Mathews, a hard working single dad who was as polite and welcoming as you could wish anyone to be, but his eighteen year old daughter Emily on the other hand was what could only be described as a wilful little minx. She was a charming enough girl, a well educated student at the local college, but was well known for getting her own way, she had her father wrapped around her little finger so whatever she wanted she got. Emily was also well known for playing her music unbearably loud when her father was out, and sure enough when Paul pushed open the door to the lounge he found her dancing around the room like some sort of demented lunatic. She was a slim, pretty girl with long blonde hair and a fair complexion, and at this moment was wearing a pale pink Nike leisure suit and white socks. Despite himself Paul couldn't help admiring her charm even though he was as angry as Hell.
After a few moments of shouting Emily was still quite oblivious of him so Paul stormed over to the Hi-Fi, he frantically searched for the off button, but in the end he resorted to pulling the plug out of the wall socket instead. Emily spun around stunned by the sudden silence, and soon became even more stunned to find her neighbour Mr Marston standing front of her.
"Mr...Marston. Oh God you really made me jump!" she blurted out at him.
He dropped his gaze. "Well perhaps if you hadn't had the volume turned up so high you would have heard me come in."
"Oh, right, I um, I'm sorry about that." She straightened out her clothes and tidied up her tousled hair as best she could. "Did you want my dad? Only he's not here, he won't be back for a couple of hours yet."
"No, Emily, considering your are the one who's been making all this terrible racket it's you I've come to see!"
"But Duffy isn't a racket, she's really cool."
"I don't care what temperature she is, Young Lady, you were making way too much noise, this is the third time I've had to come over and complain about it, and what's more you've ruined a very important artwork of mine."
Emily frowned at him. "I..I don't understand, Mr Marston, how did I do that?"
"By causing a terrible distraction which made me jump and spill paint across it."
"Oh indeed!" Paul folded his arms and gave her his most reprimanding stare. "So what else do you have to say for yourself?"
Emily chewed her top lip. "Um.... I'm sorry."
Paul could see from the glint in her eye that she wasn't at all sorry, in fact she looked as though she were about to giggle any second."Oh you will be sorry, Emily, as soon as your father gets home I'm going to tell him all about your appalling behaviour. You do realise there are rules around here about making too much noise and your father could get into a lot of trouble because of it?"
Suddenly Emily looked worried. "Oh, well I... I forgot about that. But please don't tell my dad what I did."
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't."
"Because, well because I'm sort of on a good behaviour bond at the moment."
Now it was Paul's turn to frown. "With the police?"
"No, with my dad."
Paul shook his head. "Well that's not my problem is it. Your dad needs to know what's been going on around here so I-"
"No please, Mr Marston you don't understand!" Emily interrupted, she moved towards him with her palms pressed tightly together in a begging motion. "The thing is, my dad promised me he'd buy me some more horse riding lessons, but only if I behave myself and don't get into any trouble, if he finds out about this then he won't let me have them and it'll take ages for me to save up the money to pay for them myself."
"Well you should have thought about that before you turned the volume up so high again shouldn't you?"
Emily suddenly looked crestfallen. "Yeah I suppose so." She sighed deeply then gazed into Paul's eyes. "Isn't there anything I could do to make it up to you, Mr Marston?"
"Anything what like?" asked Paul.
"Well, maybe I could clean your house, or wash your car? Please, Mr Marston I'll do anything, only please don't tell my dad. My riding instructor says I'm really good and could have a future in show jumping so I really need to have these lessons!"
Paul considered this for a moment, then he decided to take advantage of this opportunity of a lifetime and do something he'd yearned to do for a very long time. "Well, Emily, I'm not sure if I trust you in my house, or anywhere near my car, but I do have an idea of how to punish you for your bad behaviour."
"Anything." beamed Emily.
"Very well then, what I suggest is that I give you a sound spanking."
Emily's jaw dropped and a deep crimson rose from her neck to her forehead, then she swallowed hard. "A.. a spanking?"
"Yes, I intend to put you over my knee and soundly spank your bare bottom, Emily."
"But... why would you want to do that?"
"Because, Young Lady, I firmly believe that a strong dose of good old fashioned discipline will benefit you enormously, and leaving a lasting impression on your bottom will remind you to behave better in future."
"But... you can't."
"Oh yes I can," replied Paul. "and unless you want me to tell you father what you've been up to that's exactly what I'm going to do." He angled his head to one side and waited for a response from the shocked and blushing teenager.
Emily swallowed hard again, her heart was racing now and she was starting to tremble. "But I... I've never been.. spanked before."
"Never?" frowned Paul. "I find that hard to believe."
"Because you're such a naughty young lady that's why."
She gazed down at the floor. "Well, I never have, and I don't want to be either."
"Well that's your choice, Emily. I'll just go home now and speak to your father later." Paul turned on his heels and headed for the door when-
He turned back around to face her again. "Yes?"
"I'll... I'll let you spank me, Mr Marston," Emily said tearfully. "only please don't tell anyone cos I'd die of embarrassment."
Paul walked up to Emily and placed his hand on her arm. "I have no intention of telling anyone, Emily, this would stay strictly between you and me and once it was over the matter would be forgotten. Do you understand that?"
"Yes Sir."
"Good girl."
"But.. I don't know what I have to do."
He smiled reassuringly at her. "Well I'll soon sort everything out, but I suggest you visit the bathroom first."
She frowned at him then realised what he meant and nodded. "Oh, okay." she said,and quickly left the room.

While he was waiting Paul fetched a straight backed wooden chair from the dining room and placed it the middle of the lounge, he made sure there was ample space all around it, then he took a few minutes to take in his surroundings. Among many other delightful things he noticed several family photographs on the wall, most of which showed Emily at different stages of her life. But the one he took the most notice of was the photograph of Emily and her late mother. Elizabeth Mathews had died from cancer when Emily was only seven years old, it had obviously had a devestating effect on the young girl and Paul couldn't help wondering if this is what had led to her being so unruly.
Just then Emily returned looking more terrified yet more beautiful then before, and Paul suddenly realised what a striking resemblance she had to her dear mother.
"All sorted?" Paul asked, somewhat sympathetically.
Emily nodded nervously.
"Best get it over with then eh?"
She took a deep breath. "Yeah okay."
Paul walked over to her and gently took her arm, he then led her to the chair and sat down. By now Emily was so nervous her heart was racing, and she felt sick from the butterflies in her stomach. She prayed that despite his obvious intention to go through with this, Mr Marston would take pity on her and let her off this time.
"Now as this is your first spanking I'm going to start things off slowly and build up to it. The first thing I need to do is get you into the correct position over my knee."
Now Emily knew her prayers were in vain.
Paul firmly guided her across his lap, then maneouvered her until she had her bottom presented uppermost. "I want you to place your palms flat on the ground and straighten your arms, and I want you to keep your toes on the floor."
Emily's heart was pounding now, she was finding it hard to breath and was on the verge of more tears. She placed her palms flat on the floor and managed to straighten out her arms, then she wriggled herself until her toes were touching the floor.
"Are you comfortable?"
Emily didn't understand the point of question. "Sorry?"
"Is this position comfortable for you?"
The question seemed ludacrous considering what was about to happen. "Does it...matter?" she asked with bewilderment.
"Yes,it matters a lot. If you're not comfortable then it will be a distraction from what's happening to your bottom."
"Oh." Emily understood completely now. "Yes I'm fairly comfortable, Sir!"
"Very good!" said Paul. He placed his left arm across her back and took a firm hold on her, then he gazed down at the young beauty stretched over his knee and smiled. She had a shapely figure, and obviously had a very spankable bottom. Her long blonde hair hung down almost to the floor and she seemed so vulnerable lying there that he almost felt sorry for her."Right,Emily," he said gently. "I'm going to spank you now." He felt her gasp and she writhed slightly. "I'm going to give you the first few smacks over your jogging pants, just as a sort of warm up, then I'm going to spank you over your knickers, then I shall be pulling down your knickers and spanking your bare bottom. Is that understood?"
There was a long pause as Emily caught her breath. "Yes, Sir." she said eventually.
"Very well then." Paul gazed down at his target, then did something he'd only ever dreamed of, he raised his right hand and brought it sharply down on Emilys right bottom cheek. Slap!
"Ow!" Emily yelped and began wriggling.
Paul smacked her left cheek with the same force.
"Ow!" She wriggled even more.
"Ouch. Oh no that hurts!" she whined.
Paul paused for a moment. "That's the whole point, Young Lady, it's supposed to hurt otherwise it won't do you any good.
"But I didn't think it would hurt that much!"
"My dear girl this is just the warm up, I haven't even begun the proper spanking yet."
Suddenly Emily struggled up off Paul's lap and stood in front of him. "I...I've changed my mind. I don't want you to spank me any more." She gave him her most pleading expression in the hope he would be lenient.
"That's all right," shrugged Paul. "I won't spank you any more if that's what you want?"
Emily nodded gratefully.
"I'll just have to go back to my original plan and tell your father what you did."
She let out a huge sigh of defeat, then promptly started to cry. "Please don't tell him, Mr Marston. Please."
"Well you know the alternative, Emily, it's one or the other, you decide." He waited patiently for her to mull it over.
There was a long silence as Emily considered her options. "My dad musn't find out." she muttered quietly.
Paul smiled knowingly and patted his lap. "Well then I suggest you get back over my knee and let me finish what I started."

Emily stood there for a moment, then nodded and submissively lay back over his knee again. Seconds later Paul had got her back into position and the spanking resumed with the same effort as before, but this time Emily kept her protests much quieter. After twenty or so firm slaps Paul eased down her jogging pants to reveal the prettiest pair of white, frilly knickers he'd ever seen, Emily gave a little cry of defiance, but soon accepted her fate, and so Paul continued to spank her now scantily clad cheeks. He soon discovered that Emily was a joy to spank, her bottom was as round and peachy as he'd imagined, and it coloured readily with each new smack. The white of her knickers made a wonderful contrast to the pink shade that her cheeks were now turning, and despite her earlier dramatics Emily was taking her spanking well. She squirmed and writhed over Paul's knee, but that only reinforced the fact that his spanking was having the desired affect on her, plus it made her cheeks wobble even more when she wriggled. He gave her several dozen smacks, but then the magical moment finally arrived, it was time to pull down Emily's knickers and spank her on the bare.
Paul gripped Emily more tightly as he slipped his fingers into the waistband of her frilly knickers, she gave a little squeak of protest but despite this he slid them down over her plump cheeks, then eased them on down to her knees. He gazed down at the sight before him and could hardly believe his eyes, her bottom looked more perfect than ever now, and he resumed the spanking with even more pleasure than before.

Within moments Emily was praying that Paul would stop, her bottom stung terribly and she felt totally humiliated, but she realised this was far better than the alternative of her father finding out, at least that's what she thought until the spanking got even harder.
"Oh please stop, Mr Marston. Please!"
Paul paused briefly, but only to give her an explanation. "I'm not going to stop until I think you've learned your lesson."
"But I have, I swear I have!"
"No, I don't think you have, Young Lady, but you soon will, believe me!"
Despite her renewed protests Paul continued to roast poor Emily's tender cheeks with even more vigour and she writhed and squirmed desperately, finally she could stand it no longer and couldn't help reaching around with her right hand to try and protect her bottom from the relentless onslaught. But sadly for Emily it did no good at all, Paul simply grasped her wrist and held her in a tight armlock while he continued to give the teenager her first sound spanking of her young life.

Finally her ordeal was over and the spanking ended, neither of them had bothered to count exactly how many smacks Emily had recieved, but Paul guessed it must have been well over two hundred. Her bottom was now a deep shade of crimson and Paul was sure she would find it uncomfortable to sit down for at least the next two or three days.
Emily Mathews had just been taught a lesson she would never forget!
After pulling her knickers back into place Paul patted Emily's bottom and told her she could get up, then he helped her to her feet and pulled her jogging pants up too. He looked up at her and could now see that her face was almost as red as her bottom, tears rolled down her face and she was trembling like a leaf. She looked thoroughly chastised and now Paul did the only proper thing he could, he stood up, wrapped his arms around her, and hugged her with as much affection that a father would show his daugther.
"You did really well," said Paul. "You took your spanking with a lot of courage and you should be proud of yourself."
Emily nodded and sniffled as she clung tightly to Paul, then she drew in a deep calming breath and finally managed to speak. "Th.. thank... you... Mr Marston, I.. really deserved that, and... I know it'll... do me good."
"Yes, Emily, I think it will." Paul smoothed back her hair and tenderly kissed her forehead. "It's something that should have been done a long time ago, but now it's over we can forget about what happened and put it behind us. Hopefully we can be friends too?"
"Yes I'd... like that." Emily smiled up at him. "I promise I'll try to be good from now on."
"Well I should hope so too!" laughed Paul. "otherwise you'll find yourself over my knee again."
She laughed softly. "Hmmm, well it'll serve me right then won't it." She thought for a moment then added. "I wish my dad had shown me this much attention."
Paul frowned at her. "What do you mean, Sweetheart?"
"Having a hug and stuff."
Suddenly the penny dropped. "You've been doing all this because you're unhappy haven't you!"
"Yeah." She wiped her eyes. "Ever since mum died dad's been so busy trying to make me happy that he forgets I need a cuddle sometimes. And lately he's hardly been around when I've needed him."
"Well, have you tried talking to him about it?"
"No, not really."
"I think it's time you did."
"I'm not sure if he'll understand though."
"He's your dad, Emily and he loves you very much, of course he'll understand."
"You really think so, Mr Marston?"
"Yes I do, and from now on I want you to call me Paul."
Emily's face beamed."Okay, Paul. Thank you."
"You're very welcome, Sweetheart." Paul suddenly noticed the time on the mantel clock. "Speaking of your dad, he'll be home soon so I'd better go and let you tidy yourself up a bit."
"Yeah okay."
"And if ever you need a friendly ear or a shoulder to cry on, you know where I am. You got that?"
"Yeah, I've got that. Thank you, Paul.
"My pleasure, Emily."
There was another tight hug, then Paul headed home again.

Once he was back in his studio Paul sat down and thought about what had just happened, despite being angry and relishing the excuse to give the little minx the sound spanking she deserved he couldn't help feeling sorry for her, she was obviously unhappy and all she wanted was to be shown some love and affection. Maybe he was wrong to be so severe with her, but then it had made her admit her feelings, and better than that it had brought them both together as friends. Paul took a deep breath then looked over at his painting, when he'd left the house earlier he'd firmly believed his painting was completely ruined, but looking at it again he could see that with a bit of tweaking and the inclusion of a large tree in the foreground the painting would be exceptional enough even for Martha's high standards.
He smiled broadly to himself, then picked up his paint pallette and got to work creating a pure masterpiece.

As soon as Paul had left Emily had gone upstairs to her bedroom, she was naturally curious about the state of her bottom and wanted to inspect it in the full length mirror, it was a deep red colour and sore to the touch, she knew she wouldn't be able to sit down for days, but somehow she felt proud of it. She had a shower and dried herself off, taking great care with her delicate and tender rear end, then she got dressed and went downstairs just as her father came in the front door carrying a huge bunch of flowers.
"Wow, who are those from?" asked Emily as she rushed over to take a closer look.
"They're from me."
"Oh, well who are they for then, dad?"
Derek smiled broadly at her. "They're for you, Honey."
Emily was stunned."Me? But... why,dad?"
"Because I've been neglecting you lately. I haven't been around much and I just wanted to say I'm sorry."
Emily immediately burst into tears so her dad quickly put the flowers down and wrapped his arms around his precious daughter.
"It's okay, Honey,don't cry."
She sniffed and wiped her eyes. "I can't help it, I... I didn't think you'd realised."
"Well I hadn't until today, but I got talking to one of my mates at work about his little girl and it suddenly dawned on me that I haven't been there for you lately. But all that's going to change now, I'm going to spend more time with you and be there for you when you need me."
Emily smiled up at him. "Thanks,dad. I love you."
"I love you too, Em'!"
Derek affectionately kissed her forehead and she thought about Paul.
"Oh by the way." said Derek. "I've booked you those riding lessons."
Emily let out a loud squeal of delight, but as she jumped up and down with excitelent she was quickly reminded of having a very sore and tender bottom.
"I take it you're pleased then." he grinned.
She tried to hide her discomfort. "Ooh yes, dad. Thank you so much."
"You're welcome, Em'. After all you've earned them for being so good."
Emily suddenly felt guilty about the appalling behaviour that had resulted in her receiving a soundly spanked bare bottom, then an awful thought suddenly occured to her, sitting on a horse would be very painful right now. "So um... when do I start?" she asked nervously.
Derek smiled proudly at her. "Well I knew you'd be keen to get straight to it, so you're first lesson's booked in for this evening!"

The Sore End!

Thursday, 19 August 2010

Amy's Rabbit.

A story by Tomas.

An old man reminisces to a care worker,about how he met his wife.

How did we get together? I'll tell you,it all started from one september afternoon,I believe it was a tuesday.
I was outside the kitchen door having a sly fag with Jane,and Kate when Jane said.....

We have to stop now,to fill you in on all the back ground,how do yo say it these days?
Lets rewind.
The year is 1943,the place Roehamptons Young Ladies College,me,I'm Ronald Thomas,eighteen year old assistant cook.
I know,you must be puzzled,eighteen years old,and not in the services.
Well it's not through want of trying,I can tell you that much. In fact I couldn't wait to do my bit,for King and country.
So I joined the Royal Navy at the age of sixteen and a half,and it was deemed I would serve the King best as a cook.
But I did feel a bit of a fraud,having left home in such grand circumstances.

Quite a heroes send off,I got.
My mother worked for Sir John Milburn as a housekeeper,and we lived in one of his estates cottages.
My father ran off when I was a toddler,for reasons that were never really explained to me.
From my father leaving Sir John always took a keen interest in my welfare,and upbringing.
So when I left for war,he made sure that everyone got know about it.
At my leaving party,everyone had advice for the young sailor.

The funny thing is no-one gave me any advice about doodlebugs,worse luck.
I was heading across the parade ground,towards the mess hall,when I heard it.
The distinctive whooshing sound of its engine,I knew as long as I could hear the engine I was safe. So instead of taking cover in one of the nearby buildings,I ran towards the air raid shelter,at the other side of the square. I must have been less than thirty feet away from the sand-bagged entrance when I heard it.
Silence then blackness.
I awoke in hospital the next day,not in any pain,just feeling woozy,the pain,that came later. A ginger bearded doctor came to see me. In my doped up state he looked to me like a pirate,Cap'n Redbeard. As he spoke to me,my mind wandered,thinking up little pirate tales,then through it all I heard him say.
"Another few days in here,then its back home for you,I'm afraid your sailing days are over."
They had never began,eight months service and I'd never even been on board a ship.
Shrapnel,in my right shoulder and leg,and that's it the war is over for me.
When I got back home,I moped around the house and Sir Johns estate for a couple of months. Then Sir John told me he had found somewhere where I could continue my culinary training.
Thats how I ended up at Roehamptons as trainee chef,of course Miss "Hilda" Hildreth,the headmistress was not to happy,not very keen on having any male staff members in fact.
But Sir John is not without influence,and can be very persuasive.
So that's what led me to being outside the kitchen door with Jane and Kate.

When Jane said.
"We'd better be careful,Hilda's on the war path today."
"When isn't she?" Replied Kate
"Yeah well,I don't know about you,but its too hot today already without her warming our arses for smoking."
I looked at them both in puzzlement.
"What are you two bleating on about now?" I ask.
"Us out here smoking." Said Jane "If Hilda catches us,it's straight into her office,skirt up knicks down and four of the cane."
I knew,or at least thought I knew that this was a windup.
Both girls were seniors,over eighteen,and if it hadn't been for the war they would have both left by now,but they and three or so others stayed on to do typing and language courses,then off to plum jobs in the War Office,no land army or WRAC for these girls.
"Girls your age don't get caned."I say.
"They do here."Said Kate.
"You hit the nail on the head Ronnie." Said Jane."Girls our age,that's the problem with Hilda as far as she is concerned,until you hit twenty one you aren't an adult. Behave like a child."
"you get treated like a child." They both chorused.
"Just last year 'Maddy' Prior (the French,French teacher) got it,"Continued Kate."for being cross-eyed,on a school trip."
"For what?" I asked,in disbelief,and confusion.
"Couldn't control her pupils,two of them started fighting on the charra,so Hilda hauled the three of them in and they all got a whacking. See last term she was only twenty."
"What about poor Amy?" Said Jane,at the mention of the school secretary my eyes must have lit up."She's only nineteen so has another two years of it to go through if she stays here."

All day long in the kitchen,mental images of Amy and Miss Hildreth,have been flashing through my head,in consequence twice Mrs McAndrews the cook,had to warn me about daydreaming.
At last four o'clock came around,and it was time to go home. As usual I waited at the gates for Amy,it has been my habit of late to walk Amy down the drive to her bus stop,and then wait with her till the Stanhope bus comes.
Today we walked in an awkward silence,I was dying to ask her if what I had heard was true,but I didn't know how to broach the subject.
Instead I just listened,as she told me how her mother was ill at the moment,and that her sister had been having to take time off school to look after her,as it was impossible for Amy to take time off work,with the money situation being what it was.
So I just stood nodding,and half listening till the bus arrived,then waved her off as it left. I felt like kicking myself over my shyness,I'm never going to get anywhere with her at this rate I thought to myself.

The following day was raining heavy,so I was stuck inside the kitchen,when I heard a tap on the door. I opened it and there stood Kate.
"Be a darling Ron,and lend us three gaspers till tomorrow,could you,pleeeease."
"Well it's one each for Jane and I,and one for Belinda,Belinda is going into town tonight and she be getting some ciggies then,so we will give you them back tomorrow."
I sigh and hand her the three cigarettes.

Later in the afternoon,there is another tap at the door,this time Mrs McAndrews answers it. She is handed a note by one of the junior girls.
"Ron,you been up to something?" She asks me,I just shake my head in puzzlement."Well Miss Hildreth wants to see you immediately."
I shrug my shoulders,not having any idea why I am being called to the heads office. When I get to the outer office Amy is sitting at her desk.
"Ron you have to go straight in,and I better warn you now she is in a foul mood."

I enter the office,Miss Hildreth is standing behind her desk,miss is used as a courtesy title for all female members of staff at the school,but in Miss Hildreth's case she really isn't married.
What was she like you ask yourself?
Well I would guess around forty or so,quite tall for a lady,dark brown hair and hazel eyed. Her hair she always wears short,trim figure and quite striking for someone her age,even to my,then young eyes.

"I suppose Ronald,you wonder why I have called you here."She asks me as she start moving items around on her desk. My initial thoughts were that she needed something heavy moved in her office. I was wrong.
"I had call earlier on today to chastise three girls for smoking,"
I can feel my face starting to burn,and I sigh and nod at her.
"Ah,good you aren't going to start denying anything."She says as she moves from behind her desk to a small leather armchair.
"I asked the girls for the rest of their cigarettes,but they said they had no more,so I asked to see the empty packet,but they couldn't provide one."Saying this she picks up the cushion off the seat and heads back to her desk.
"So I told them,it's four strokes of the cane each unless they told me where the cigarettes had come from. Kate and Jane took their caning rather than give you up. Belinda on the other hand decided,to as they would say,dob you in. So she received six strokes,these days loyalty should be prized highly,and snitching discouraged. That however brings us to you."
Having said that she placed the cushion on her desk,and I finally realised what was about to happen.

"I take it your socialising with the girls,has not gone any further than smoking and chatting?"
I shake my head.
"Good,make sure you keep it that way. I also take it you have been caned before?"
I nod my head,I almost want to say,never by a good looking woman like yourself,but of course I didn't.
Miss Hildreth,then goes to a large cupboard,and takes out a thin three foot long cane,and flexes it.
I realise now that this is really going to happen,and the odd thing is I'm finding it both scary and exciting in equal amounts.

"You will receive the same punishment as Kate and Jane,that will be four strokes. So if you could lower your trousers,and underwear,and bend over the cushion please we can get it over with."
I'm now totally stunned.
"Er,miss you can't"
"As I said you will receive the same punishment,and that is four strokes on the bare bottom,now hurry up or you'll get what Belinda got."
I struggle at my belt with shaking fingers,no female apart from the nurses,has seen me naked down below since I was a young kid,least of all a good looking mature lady.
As I lower my trousers and underpants in one movement,my cock flicks up pointing straight at the ceiling.
Miss Hildreth looks at my erection and shakes her head.
"Typical male,you are all like beasts of the field. Bend over then."
I bend across the cushion on the table.
"No not like that,right over so your bottom is pointing up over."
I adjust myself,and feel the cold leather against my fully hard cock.
"Thats better,a much easier target."

The first stroke slices down onto me.
I was taken by surprise at the amount of power she managed to generate,I had been caned before at school,though always by a male teacher,so was expecting this to be much lighter.
Of course for my other canings I always had the protection of clothing,and the unusual angle meant that she was bringing the cane down in a vertical,rather than horizontal plane,so gravity added extra power to her stroke.
No wonder the girls were so afraid of her.

She continued berating me,and the male species in general,between strokes.
The second stroke seemed worse than the first,causing me to move my hips alot to try and get the sting out.
What with the slow pace of her caning,and her quiet,low even voice reminding me how males can't control their urges,and the movement of my hips on the now warm leather.I was becoming more,and more sexualy excited.

As the third stroke landed,I could feel it rising up in me,and before the fourth came down,I could feel the gooey wetness on my stomach. With the fourth stroke,I gasped out loud in pain,pleasure,and embarrassment.
"Stand up."She commanded.
As I stood,and turned to face her,and tried to speak.
"Miss I,er,well..."
"I absolutely don't believe this," She said looking at her semen stained cushion,and my still dripping semi-erect member."you totally disgust me,to find sexual gratification in this."
She shook her head then went to a drawer in her desk,and pulled out a hand towel.
"Here,clean up your mess."
I sharply grabbed the hand towel from her,I could feel my face burning up. I wiped my belly,and then my cock. Putting down the hand towel,I made a move to pull up my trousers.
"No leave them where they are,finish wiping up your seed. In fact no,as a reminder to you as you are doing it,I think a little pain in the hands should be in order. Put out your right hand please. Now."
I held my right hand out,holding my arm at shoulder height.
"Put it lower,you don't really think I was going to fall for that old school trick do you."
She pushed my hand with her cane,till it came to what was for her the optimum height.

"Two strokes each hand,and no jumping about please,I won't stand for theatrics from the girls and I won't from you."
The first stroke slashed across my fingers rather than the palm,the pain was incredible,much worse than the bottom caning I had just received. The second stroke also went across my fingers,I then realised she was aiming for my fingers,and that the first stroke was not badly aimed. After the second stroke,I put my left hand out straight away to get it over with,I wanted to be dressed,and out of here as quickly as possible.
The two on my left hand were of similar fashion,and ferocity.

I quickly picked up the towel and started wiping the cushion,then I saw what she meant about a reminder,every little movement of my fingers caused extra pain. I looked at them and all eight were purple and swollen,she had used just the right amount of swing to cause maximum pain,without breaking any of them.
After I had finished wiping up the mess I had made,I pulled up my underwear and trousers,fastening my trousers and my belt was hard and very painful,my fingers didn't seem to want to do what my brain was telling them. Finally dressed,I offered the hand towel back to Miss Hildreth.
"Are you totally stupid boy,I don't want that,covered in your...your issue. Take it away with you and bring it back after you have boiled washed it. Now go on run along,I don't expect to see you back in here."

As I was about to leave the office,I remembered something,Kate said she could hear the caning from the outer office,when Amy got caned. So that would mean Amy would have heard me being caned,two separate lots of four. Would Amy have been listening at the door did she hear all that went on. I left the office and walked past Amy's desk shamefaced,and hurried back to the safety of the kitchen.

As usual at the end of the day,I met up with Amy to walk her down to her bus stop.
Today was terrible for me,I couldn't think of any thing to say to her,how could I.
For months now I had been clumsily flirting with her,making myself out to be the big man,the war hero.
Today though,she knew our boss had got me into her office and caned me like a little schoolboy.
For what?
For lending cigarettes to girls,not even girls,young women,who in normal circumstances would have left school months ago.
Stuck really for anything to say,to just break the silence,as Amy to was embarrassed by the situation,I asked how her mother was. She then told me all was the same at home if not worse,because of her working hours,and the fact her sister was in the house all day,neither of them had been able to get to the shops,and food was now a major problem for them.
Even though they still had their meat rations in the book,they couldn't get to the butchers early enough to catch anything.
It was then I made a life defining decision. A couple of days earlier,Sir Johns gamekeeper had dropped three rabbits off for the school,I had them hanging in the kitchen ready to pie up tomorrow.
"Just wait here,I won't be long,"I said to Amy."if your bus comes before I get back just let it go and catch the next one OK."
I ran back up the drive,the best I could with my still niggling wounds. I thought to myself,I could still pie up two rabbits tomorrow morning,before Mrs McAndrews came in,and pad the pies out with mushrooms and a bit black pudding,and no-one would be any the wiser.
I quickly unlocked the kitchen door,grabbed one of the hanging rabbits,an onion and a couple of large carrots,putting them all in a hessian bag I relocked the door and rushed back down the drive to the patient and puzzled Amy.
"Here take these,just don't tell anybody where you got them from,or I'll be in bigger trouble."
Amy smiled and nodded,just then her bus arrived,and as usual I waved her off like a lovesick puppy.
I know what you are thinking,not the most romantic present to give a young lady,but in those days there wasn't many a lass in the dales,who didn't know how to dress and prepare game for the pot. As I waved her away,I thought to myself."I'm in there."

As things turned out,I was right,but not in the smooth way I had hoped for.

The following morning,to my horror Mrs.McAndrews was in early,and already in a tizz.
"Ronnie,was there anyone in the kitchen last night before you locked up? I can't believe it but there is a rabbit missing."
What could I say?I didn't want to involve Amy,and the kitchen was locked up overnight.
"I took it."I replied,to the now shocked cook.
"What on earth for?"This was a fair question as it was common knowledge that my mother and I had most of our meals at Sir Johns house.
"I really can't tell you."
"Well Miss Hildreth knows about it being missing,so I think you had better go and tell her about it,before she gets the police involved."

I made the long walk down to her office again,Amy was sitting at her desk as usual,but today looking very flustered,I took it she also knew of the impending rabbit trouble. I gave her a reassuring smile,then knocked on the door.
"Enter."My knees started shaking at the sound of her voice.
"Miss Hildreth,I've come about the rabbit,I took it,and I didn't think anyone would notice."
She stared at me,with a rather quizzical look on her face.
"Really,and for what reason Ronald?"
"I can't say miss."
"Ah,well at least you have been honest about your dishonesty,"She said in her low even voice."of course this means that you will no longer be employed here. Out of respect to Sir John the police will not be involved,but I feel I must inform him of the incident. Go back to the kitchen,and I will send for you later."

I left the room smartish,what could I tell my mother and Sir John,the truth would get Amy into trouble?
I noticed Amy was missing from her desk,hiding perhaps?
When I got back to the kitchen,Amy was talking in whispered tones to Mrs.McAndrews,on seeing me she became very red-faced,and left in a hurry.
I sat down next to the big table,feeling dejected and rejected,Amy couldn't even look me in the eye. Mrs McAndrews brought me over a cup of tea.
"Don't worry lad,things are rarely as bad as they seem. You have this cuppa,and I'll go and see Miss Hildreth,and try and sort this mess out."
She then ruffled my hair and left the room. What had been said while I was away?
About half an hour later Mrs.McAndrews came back into the kitchen.
"Right lad up and at 'em,we've got food to cook,the young ladies can't live on tea and toast."
She said smiling and ruffling my hair,for the second time.
"Five o'clock you have to go and see Miss Hildreth,but I've swung it so you'll both keep your jobs,mind you she's not happy with either you or Miss Amy."
I was stunned,Amy must have told Mrs.McAndrews everything about the rabbit and her mother.

Five o'clock seemed to come around very quickly that day,and before I knew it I was knocking on Hilda's door,Amy was no where to be seen.
As I walked into the office,I saw Amy standing by the side of the desk,fidgeting with her skirt.
Then I noticed the leather cushion already in place on the desk,and the cane beside it,not again surely,but it would be better than the alternatives I envisaged earlier,a police record and family disgrace.

"I must say,"Said Hilda,in her usual calm even voice."I am shocked by you both,you Ronald for perpetrating this crime-no matter how well intentioned-and you Amy for allowing him to. Am I really such an ogress,that neither of you could have come forward to me,and said about Amy's situation at home?"
No reply from either of us on that one.
"Still though the crime has been committed,and I hold you both equally responsible. So you will both get the same punishment,eight strokes of the cane."
I heard Amy gasp,I was later to find out that until today the maximum she had ever had was four.
"Ladies first,I think,Amy prepare yourself for your punishment."
"What!"Amy screeched."You,you can't mean to cane me in front of Ronnie,its,its just not decent."
"You did the crime together,you will be punished together,as for decency I don't give a jot,you should have thought about how decent it is to steal. So I want to see that skirt up,and your knickers down. While we are about it Ronald you might as well lower your clothing also in preparation.

I couldn't believe what was happening,in an almost trance like state I started unbuttoning my trousers,all the while watching,the now tearful Amy,lifting up her skirt and tucking it into the waistband at her back. I was surprised to see she was wearing bottle green school issue knickers -I was later to find out this was another of Hilda's foibles - which she then lowered to her knees,and quickly took her place over the cushion.
Directly in front of me.
I lowered my underpants,and to my dismay I was already semi-erect,Hilda looked at my hardening cock in disgust and shook her head.
"Come on Amy,right over the cushion you know the drill."
"But miss Ronnie's behind me,he will thing."
"Should have thought of that before you became a thief."

As Amy moves further over the cushion,I am treated to a glimpse of her fanny lips before she clamps her legs tight together again.
"Right eight strokes,and I warn you both now they will be hard ones."
The first stroke came whistling down onto Amy's uncovered bottom,bringing out a cry of pain from her.
I watch on in fascination as the white line left by the cane disappears,then a reddy pink line emerges out of the paleness of her skin.

Stroke two more of the same. Stroke three,the pain now getting to Amy as she forgets about preserving her modesty,and is more concerned about moving her hips to gain some sort of relief from the pain.
So there in front of me,Amy's pink little purse,a slash of vibrant colour between her pale thighs,the object of so many a sleepless night for me.
I want so badly to rub my now throbbing cock,but I know that is out of the question. So I stand at ease,feet shoulder width apart,hands behind my back.
As I stand at ease my cock stands to attention.

The fourth stroke Hilda brings across the buttocks in a diagonal motion,bringing about a more anguished cry. She then changes sides,and repeats the process from Amy's right. Each swipe bringing about more cries and tears,till the eighth one lands.

"Right Amy you may rise,"Amy stands up sobbing."look at your so called friend. I've told you before men are no better than beasts in the field. Look at the state of him,all through you punishment all he could think off was putting that thing inside you."
Amy did indeed look,her sobbing seemed to abate a little,standing in front of me rubbing her bottom,staring at my erect penis.

Hilda went to her desk and pulled something from one of the drawers.
"Here Ronald,"She said to me passing me a couple of old hankies."get rid of that."
She said pointing at my erection with her cane. I didn't know what she meant.
"I don't want a mess all over my desk like the last time."
I then realised what she meant. Taking a hankie in my right hand,staring deep into Amy's eyes I started to bring my self off,slowly rubbing the shaft,bringing my foreskin over my glans and then off again,watching Amy,watching me,feeling there was only the two of us in the room.
"Hurry up boy I haven't got all day,and I,unlike little Amy here do not find this little show,in anyway entertaining."
I put more urgency in my action,then I cum,the thick white liquid just caught in time in the hankie.
"Make sure you get it all out,then get over that cushion."
I obey milking every drop,till my cock returned to its flaccid state,then I took my turn over the cushion.
My punishment?
In truth,other than it hurt I don't recall much about,it my mind still focussed on what preceded it.
When I stood again after my eight strokes,I was again erect,and I noticed a trace of a smile on Amy's tear strewn cheeks.

"I'll say this for you Ronald,you are if nothing else,predictable. Now both of you get dressed,and get home and we'll say no more about this. Oh! By the way there is a box Mrs McAndrew's should have put on your desk it is for you to take home with you Amy."
We quickly readjusted our clothing and left Hilda's office. Sure enough there was a box there,in it was sausages,mushrooms,carrots and tomatos.
Waiting in the darkness of the bus stop,I came for a second time that evening,this time at Amy's hand not mine.

"You asked me how we got together,and that is how."