03 for ASSTR (Spanking)


Exploits with a Gym Slipper

Three More Sally Trubshawe Henderson Stories

By Big Billie

(c) Big Billie 2002. Not to be distributed or sold for monetary gain.



Author's Statement: Big Billie is opposed to spanking, except for consenting adults. However, spanking 
sexually excites him, so he writes about it.



Story the First: Spanked in the Showers

  The bulk of my career as a girls' school disciplinarian spanned the period from the mid-
sixties to the mid-eighties, or from my early twenties to my early forties. That was my 
golden age, and I look back to it with many fond memories.

  There are too many incidents and stories for me to tell you them all, and, in any case, 
merely to narrate the highlights of my career would give a false picture. The fact of the 
matter is that on virtually every day of my teaching life I laid my slipper across the buttocks 
of at least one, and usually several, young ladies. In most cases I would dust the seats, and 
in particular the gussets, of their thin, skimpy, tightly stretched gym knickers after PT. 
Then, after that, I would go to supervise the class in the communal showers so that I could 
get a good eyeful of the rumps that I had just reddened. "Whoar, ladies", I would think to 
myself. "Just look at those slipper marks. I have really bitten into your plump nubile arses. I 
bet I've reddened you somewhere where you won't be showing your boyfriends (I hope)!" 
And the really sexy thing is that while I was having such thoughts, I knew that others in the 
class were having them too. Yes, most girls think it is all very sexy and amusing when 
someone else takes the slipper. It is only when it descends onto their bum that they fail to 
see the joke.

  During these impromptu inspections I would also eye up the rest of the talent. I like naked 
ladies, especially teenaged ones. I am very partial to firm, pneumatic, teenaged titties. I am 
even more interested in teenaged tummies, thighs, bottoms, fannies and, in particular, pubic 
hair. I was always eager to see just how much of this the girls had sprouted. It is one of my 
disciplinary principles, you see, that the hairier the fanny, the sharper it gets slapped. So I 
would carefully monitor the girls' bushes for future reference and future appropriate 
disciplinary action. "Wow, Sandra, (or whoever)," I would think to myself. "Your minge 
was as smooth as a baby's bottom last year, but since then it has sprouted a beautiful tousle. 
Yes, you've grown a lovely clump over the summer holidays. But just you wait, my girl. 
You'll pay for that the next time I catch you bending!" And you can bet that Sandra (or 
whoever) did as well!

  Just one more point before I pass on. I was, and am, especially partial to young ladies with 
red or auburn hair, whether it is on their heads, under their arms or, especially, around their 
fannies. I particularly like strawberry blonde pubic hair, but dark red and, in particular, 
carrot coloured crotches are also highly regarded. Such girls I categorise, to myself and to 
Dave, as "ginger mingers" and slapping their bums really turns me on. These ladies always 
seem to have milk white skin. Their buttocks form two snowy hemispheres. On several 
occasions (see later in this paragraph, for example) I have caught such beauties "on the 
bare" and I have been excited almost to orgasm at the way their bottoms colour up, even 
when only fairly playfully tapped as part of my preparatory flicking regime. After a full 
spanking their bums are a delightful rosy hue, and, unlike with black and brown skinned 
girls, I can be sure that my discipline has been fully effective. "Tee hee!" I will giggle to 
myself, "I bet that stings! I have reddened you, my girl, and no mistake!" On their bodies 
and faces, and especially around their noses, my ginger mingers usually have delicious little 
freckles, particularly in the summer when the rays of the sun seem to bring them out. But 
their skin never seems to go brown from sunburn. Instead it burns and goes red and tender. 
Once, I remember, I apprehended a big buxom red haired fifth former. She was one of a 
group of five young ladies who were sunbathing in the nude in a secluded wooded glade 
near to school. This was all very harmless, especially since it was the late 1960s, the era of 
"Hair" and "flower power." Certainly the offence, if it was an offence, would not in itself 
have merited a slippering. But, unfortunately for them, they were all smoking cigarettes. 
Needless to say, having caught these ladies in flagrante delicto, and with their knickers off, 
I pushed home my advantage. They all got a tongue lashing for breaking the school's strict 
no smoking rule, followed by the confiscation of their cigarettes, lighters and matches. 
Then I finished them all off, one after the other, with eight of the best from the slipper 
across their bare bottoms. When I came to my ginger minger, however, I did not give her 
any preparatory spanks as I did not want to sting her too much, and her bottom was already 
beautifully pink and tingly. When I had caught her, you see, she had been lying on her 
tummy. Furthermore, she had clearly been doing this for some time since the sun had 
caught her bare buttocks beautifully and had toasted them to a delightful rosy hue. So her 
sharp slippering was the second tanning that she got that day! Finally, when ginger mingers 
get embarrassed (and I have yet to find one who wasn't embarrassed at having her bottom 
smacked) the cheeks of their faces blush pink or scarlet, to match the cheeks of their bums! 
So they have four red cheeks, two front top and two back bottom! Wow, oh, wow! Please 
allow me to change the subject before I get over-excited!

  Anyway, as you can see, my saucy spanking exploits were going on all the time. For long 
periods of most days I was in a state of heightened sexual erythrism, my clitoris stood rock 
hard in my knickers and I would feel a delicious dampness between my pudenda. And then, 
of course, when we went to bed that night I would give a thorough and detailed debriefing 
to Dave, as he removed my knickers, thus debriefing me! As I did this, I would gently rub 
and massage his cock. Then, after he had pulled off my panties, Dave would tickle my 
fanny and clitoris with his fingers. By the time I got towards the end of my story Dave's 
cock would be rock hard and my pussy would be dripping wet with lubricating juices. Stiff 
cock would then enter soft, yielding wet pussy and, excited into a frenzy by my detailed 
peroration on the events of the day, we would both work ourselves up to a shattering mutual 
climax.

  There was one thing that Dave found particularly sexy. I was an experienced married 
woman with a happy, active, passionate and fulfilled sex life. I was getting "it" every night 
and "it" was exactly what I wanted. The girls knew this because all day I went around with 
a smile on my face like the cat who had got the cream. Thus for me smacking young ladies' 
bottoms was merely a bit of slap and tickle on the side, an amusing perk of the job and a 
sexy little boost to my normal love life.

  But the girls I disciplined were celibates. They were all supposed to be virgins, and those 
who were not did not have ready access to men. They were youthful, nubile, lusty, and very, 
very frustrated. My state of married bliss must have made them feel very envious and very 
randy. Wow! I bet they were all gagging for it! But did they get it? Did they hell! My moist 
and well-lubricated fanny was being slammed hard by Dave's stiff, rock hard cock. Their 
dry, unlubricated fannies and (usually!) intact maidenheads were being slammed hard by 
my trusty slipper. They wanted to feel a cock between the cheeks of their buttocks, but 
instead they were getting a slipper across them. They were taking the rap of a very sexy, 
amusing and humiliating chastisement right where they thought they were far too old to 
take it, and where they really wanted to take something else. And you can bet that it didn't 
half wind them up and make them hopping mad.

  But having said all this there were still some spanking incidents that I found even sexier 
than others. This was particularly so in cases where, by fate, good luck or quick-wittedness, 
I managed to slap the victims while they were in the nude. I have already given you 
examples of this elsewhere in these memoirs, and I will now give you three more.

  In the gymnastics changing room there were some communal showers. These were turned 
on centrally so that streams of hot water cascaded down from about a dozen shower nozzles 
onto the heads and bodies of the girls standing naked beneath them. Sometimes, if there 
was a time shortage, the girls were asked to walk in at one end of the showers, and out at 
the other. This meant that they got a good and refreshing dousing with hot water, but that 
there was no time for them to soap their bodies and to wash properly. Whenever possible, 
therefore, and always when the gym lesson was at the end of the day and there was no time 
pressure, the girls were told to take turns to stand under one of the shower nozzles and to 
soap and wash themselves thoroughly. If they wished they could also shampoo their hair, 
although no glass bottles, but only sachets and plastic containers, were allowed in the 
showers.

  When these showers were in use the ceramic floor could get quite hazardous. This was 
particularly the case when soap and/or shampoo were being used since the lather would be 
washed onto the floor making it slippy. One of the first rules that I made, therefore, when I 
came to the school as the new gym mistress, was that horseplay and tomfoolery in the 
showers was strictly forbidden, and that anyone caught indulging in it would take the 
slipper, usually at the end of their next gym lesson.

  Now some of the school rules netted me a large number of victims. The ban on smoking 
was an example of this. God, I hate smoking, particularly in teenaged girls. The girls I 
taught were youthful, nubile and gorgeous. As specimens of feminine pulchritude they were 
clean, pure and perfect. They were at the peak of their physical beauty and fitness. The 
thought of them wilfully, perversely and disobediently polluting their immaculate and 
spotless bodies while at the same time getting hooked onto a dangerous physically addictive 
drug really got my goat. And yet, despite our best efforts, smoking by girls at the school was 
widespread and endemic.

  In short, lots of young ladies indulged in the dirty and unhealthy habit of smoking and, as a 
result, lots of young ladies, if and when they were caught, found themselves sporting red 
bottoms to supplement their brown, tar-stained lungs. Oh yes, my slipper was always 
smacked home very firmly across a smoker's buttocks. But I digress. The point I was 
making was that, unlike with smoking, very few girls were caught misbehaving in the 
showers since, for one thing, a member of staff was usually in attendance to nip any high 
spirits in the bud. There was, however, a delicious, delightful and beautiful little incident 
shortly after my marriage to Dave.

  It was after school one Friday afternoon, and the fifth form netball team had been 
practising in the gym. I had coached them myself for an hour. Then I left the girls still 
practising, and told them to shower and get dressed in their own time. Meanwhile I went 
back to our cottage to bathe and to get changed. I took my time and had a lovely slow, hot 
bubbly bath. Then I prepared myself to go out for the night. Dave and I had been invited by 
one of the local gentry to a posh dinner party, so I put on a very dcollet, stylish "little 
black dress," cut high on the thigh like a mini-skirt, high heels, necklace and long dangling 
ear-rings through my pierced ears together with various other adornments. My legs were 
bare and, as I have indicated, I was showing a lot of thigh. I also made up my face with 
lipstick, eye shadow, face cream, powder, etc. and anointed myself with perfumes and 
unguents including an expensive French fragrance. I had recently been to a high-class 
hairdresser, and had my hair cut neat and short into a style that showed off my bare neck 
and the long dangly ear-rings hanging down onto it. By the time I had finished my toilette, I 
was, as we now say, "dressed to kill." Then I picked up my brief case with my keys in it and 
went off to lock the gym.

  When I arrived there I found, contrary to my expectations, that the premises had not yet 
been vacated. Instead, there were still girls in the showers, and they were kicking up an 
almighty din. To find out what was going on I secreted myself in the changing room behind 
the shower wall and listened. To my amazement I found that the girls seemed to be playing 
a spanking game. What was happening was that one girl would ask another girl a question. 
Some of the questions featured general knowledge, some of them mental arithmetic. But in 
either case the principle was the same. If the girl who was asked the question got the right 
answer she gained a point. If she failed, she bent over and her inquisitor gave her a smack 
across her bare bottom with the flat of her hand.

  The girls were clearly enjoying their game. Every correct answer was greeted by ironic 
cheers, cries of "clever clogs", etc., and every wrong or non-answer with screams of delight 
and enthusiastic yells of "bend your end", "sting her ring" and similar exhortations. Then, 
as the slaps were administered, there were further taunts: "naughty girl, take that"; "shudder 
that rudder", "tingle, tingle little arse" and so on. I must admit that I was surprised. Until 
then I had assumed that I was some kind of unusual pervert to get sexually excited by 
spanking. But this was not so. It seems, I am very glad to say, that my saucy predilections 
are shared by a lot of other people.

  What got me miffed, however, was that one of the girls was a brilliant mimic, and she was 
mercilessly taking the piss out of me with a series of uncannily accurate take-offs. "Bend 
over, please. Straight legs," she was saying. "No, further. Not good enough, girl, take that." 
(Before she applied her main swots, the other girls were allowing her to administer sharp 
little taps that mimicked my pre-spanking tail flicks. When I told this to Dave, the dirty old 
bugger got very over-excited, saying that he would just love to slap and tingle his bare 
fingers, skin to skin, against the nubile, hairy twats of naked teenaged ladies!) And so it 
went on. And she was more accurate than a mynah bird, so that I got the uncanny feeling 
that it really was me, in another body form, that was barking out the instructions.

  Anyway, I must have remained behind that shower wall for twenty minutes or more, 
secretly enjoying the game with the girls. It was all very light hearted, really. I could tell 
that they were not really hurting each other, despite the exaggerated and stylised yells of 
pain (Aaagh! Yaroo! And so on) that came from the lips of the victims whenever a slap 
landed on their butts. I was touched and moved by their youthful joy and their innocent 
delight, and was very tempted to sneak off and to let the matter drop.

  But that, of course, could never be. On many occasions I have vowed solemnly, to myself 
and to Dave, that I will always seize and exploit every single chance that I get to smack 
ladies on their bare bottoms. Over the years, Dave has been most insistent on this. He has 
promised that if ever I give up such an opportunity he will administer 12 hard slaps with the 
slipper to my bare bottom. Worse still, I have promised, on my word of honour, to let him 
know if ever I let him down on this, and then to freely present my own naked rump for 
chastisement. Well, I know how much the dirty old bugger would enjoy doing that, and I 
have been very careful never to give him the chance!

  Thus it was, then, that, after I had listened for as long as I wanted to the girls' sexy and 
joyful little game, I reached into by brief case and removed my spanking slipper. I then put 
my brief case on the floor and showed myself at the shower entrance. I said nothing, and the 
girls were so engrossed in their game that they did not notice me at first. But then, one by 
one, they realised the situation and subsided into sheepish and embarrassed silence. When I 
had their full attention, I reached into the shower and turned off the hot water tap.

  Through the steam I could see that I had bagged 6 real beauties, every one of them big, 
buxom and fruity. I paused for a few moments and eyed them up with interest. At last I 
spoke. "Well then", I said, "and what do you girls think you are doing?" Naturally enough 
this question was met with an embarrassed silence. Then I started questioning them 
individually. "Linda, what are the rules about horseplay and tomfoolery in the showers?" 
"Sarah, why have those rules been made?" "Mandy, what happens to girls who break those 
rules?" "Susan, can you give me any good reason why that should not happen to you?" 
"Have any of you got any excuse for this? Helen, what have you got to say for yourself? Can 
any of you give me one good reason why you should not be disciplined?" These last 
questions were again met with an embarrassed silence.

 "Right, then" I said. "That's settled, and I am glad that you seem to agree with me. Linda, 
come here. Face that wall. Now, touch your toes, please. Come on, girl, straight legs." I 
savoured this moment for several seconds. Linda's bottom was already a beautiful shade of 
pink from the spanking game that she had been playing. Therefore, with her, as with all the 
other girls on this occasion, I dispensed with my normal tail flicks.

  Linda was a big fifth former, so she got the standard treatment for a girl of her age: 8 slaps. 
In tune with the jocular and lighthearted mood of the girls until I had disturbed them, I did 
not slap Linda all that hard. But I tried to make it just hard enough to rile her, to vex her, 
and to get her hopping mad. Linda took two slaps to the cunt meat, then four slaps higher 
up, aimed ad lib to the rest of the bum. Finally she got another two across the back of the 
fanny hairs again. Eight times the sharp sexy crack of slipper onto bare wet bottom rang out 
through the steamy changing room. Eight times Linda's buttocks shuddered and quivered 
provocatively as the pump hit home. In between each slap was a pause that was just long 
enough to allow the bare bum time to tingle before the next slap hit it. When Linda was at 
last told to rise to her feet she screwed up her face in rage and frustration and vigorously 
massaged her stinging rump with the palms of her hands. Then, as she walked away, she 
took her hands off her bum, clenched both of her fists and in her anger shook them 
vigorously. At the same time she let out a low cry of outrage, somewhere between a sigh 
and a growl. "Aaagh!"

  "Right, who's next? Mandy, come here." Thus, Mandy, Sarah, Susan and Helen all took it. 
Eight of the best, that is. Across their bare bums. Crack, crack, crack went the slipper. 
Wobble, sting, tingle went five big, wet, nubile bottoms. Wow, I took them all beautifully! 
Yes, I really stitched them up! They were humiliated and cross at being spanked at all at 
their age. They were even more embarrassed and humbled at being spanked on the raw. 
And I made sure that I whacked them just hard enough to make them boil with fury and 
frustration. By the time I had finished with them I had five very vexed, irritated, fuming and 
furious young ladies on my hands. After their spankings, Mandy and Helen did not give me 
the satisfaction of confirming how sharply I had stung them. In their outraged pride they 
refused to rub their bottoms. This I found very sexy, especially since I could see, from the 
way they were silently wincing, just how keenly they were tingling.

  But the best was yet to come. The brilliant mimic that I mentioned earlier was called 
Harriet. She was a tall, big-boned blonde with a stunning figure and plenty of meat on her. 
"Come here, Harriet", I said, when I had disciplined her five companions. "Right, now. 
Look at me. Tell me, how long have you had this gift of mimicry? Yes, you really are very 
good at it. In fact, you are brilliant. Wow, you really roasted me with those impersonations 
of yours. Yes, you had a really good laugh at my expense. You really made me look and 
feel a complete fool. Now. If you were me, what would you like to do about it? I bet you 
would just love it if you got the chance to turn the tables on your tormentor, wouldn't you? 
Just imagine if you were lucky enough to catch her on the hop. Wouldn't it be lovely to get 
you own back on her, to take advantage of the situation?"

  And so on. I really wound Harriet up. And then I bent her over where she stood and gave 
her eight with the slipper. Eight really hard ones, that is. I slapped her a lot harder than the 
others. Wow! Did I rattle her big, wet, meaty arse for her! Harriet's deft mimicry had really 
got my goat. I was feeling miffed and angry. When once I had her big bare bottom 
obediently presented for chastisement and fully in my power, I saw red and I really let her 
have it. Yes, she didn't half catch it! First I gave Harriet two across the fanny meat: 
CRACK! CRACK!! Then she got four to the rest of the bum: CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!! 
CRACK!!! Then she took the last two. These were across the back of the twat again, like 
the first two but even harder: CRACK!!!! CRACK!!!!! After every slap I waited for about 
four seconds or so, just long enough for it to tingle. Then, just as the tingling reached its 
climax, and the victim was at the height of her vexation, outrage and anger, exactly at that 
moment when the last thing she wanted to take in the whole world was another one like 
that, and the last place on her whole body that she wanted to take it was across her bare 
arse, I gave her her next unwanted free gift: wallop! As soon as I had finished with her, 
Harriet put her opened palms onto each of her two buttocks and rubbed her bottom 
vigorously. At the same time she screwed up and contorted her fresh, pretty young face with 
rage and frustration. As for me, I was feeling a lot better!

  Please allow me, dear reader, a final word about this sexy little incident. One thing that I 
found really stimulating about it was not just that I was lucky enough to catch the girls in 
the nude. It was that, in sharp contrast, I myself was dressed up to the nines. I stood there in 
my classic little black dress with my classy high heeled shoes and my make-up, my long 
dangling ear-rings adorning my bare neck, and my necklace hanging down between my 
boobs and resting on my naked bosom. I was very much the beautiful, mature and 
sophisticated lady who was in total control of the situation. My victims, on the other hand, 
were butt naked and had been caught at a hopeless disadvantage. They had no option but to 
grin and take what I dished out to them with tongue and slipper. Wow! During the whole 
episode I felt really empowered!

  That night we had quite a long drive to our dinner engagement, so we started out early. 
During the journey Dave asked me about the events of the day. His debriefings usually did 
not start until we were in bed together, but tonight he said he would like a preview. So I 
decided to have a little fun. Dave was driving along, with me in the front passenger seat. I 
leant into him and gently pulled down the zip of his flies. I took out his cock and bent down 
my head. Then, very slowly and seductively, I began to suck his naked, exposed cockhead. 
In between doing this I administered a series of sharp, provocative little bites directly on to 
and all around his cock shaft just below his prick tip. As I did all this I kept breaking off the 
work with my mouth. Instead, I rubbed his glans and his frenulum with my fingers. In these 
interludes I told Dave in intimate and graphic detail about the events in the shower. I took 
my time, but even so within a few minutes Dave's cock was rock hard and on the brink of 
orgasm, with little beads and bubbles of semen oozing from his prick tip. Then, abruptly, 
Dave turned into a lay-by. It was dark, which was just as well, because within seconds Dave 
had moved over to the passenger seat, pulled down my knickers, hoisted up my short dress, 
sat me on his knee and rammed his stiff and excited cock into my wet dripping pussy from 
the rear. He shot a wad of semen into me almost immediately, but after that he was still so 
excited that he just kept on thrusting. Within four or five minutes I had had about four or 
five explosive orgasms, and Dave had come for a second time. All the time I was groaning. 
"You are a policeman, and this is a serious offence against public decency. This shag is 
wicked. And illegal. You deserve to take the rap for it, you dirty old man. Your great, stiff, 
randy cock deserves to take six hard cuts from a cane." And so on. As you can imagine, we 
arrived at our dinner date late and rather dishevelled. But that was nothing to the way we 
celebrated my triumph later, when we were both at home and in bed together!


Story the Second: A Smacking for Smoking

  Dave, I think, has told you that we met each other at a squash club near to the girls school 
at which I was teaching. This club played an important part in our social life, and I made 
some good friends there.

  One of my best friends was (and is) called Julia Mannion. She is older than me. At that 
time she was, I should say, around her mid-thirties. She had got married young, and by her 
early twenties she had two daughters, Naomi and Ruth. At the time of the incident that I am 
about to narrate Naomi was sixteen.

  The majority of the girls at the school were boarders. But there were also a number of 
daygirls who attended from the surrounding neighbourhood. Naomi and Ruth were among 
these. Naomi's parents had enrolled her in the school when she was eleven, and she was 
currently in the fifth form, and about to take her O levels.

  Now the way that I got to spank most of my victims was like this. Shortly after I arrived at 
the school, as I believe Dave has told you, the headmistress appointed me the Dean of 
Discipline. In the staff room was a sturdy, hard-backed exercise book, known as the 
"Record of Discipline." Then, in the prefects common room, was a similar "Record of 
Discipline" for their use. There were sections in these books for each form in the school, 
and teachers and prefects recorded the names and the offences of miscreants in the 
appropriate section. I then collected these books, put them in my brief case with my 
spanking slipper, and took them along to gym lessons.

  At the end of each gym lesson I would then read out the names of any malefactors and 
haul them up to the front of the class where they received appropriate correction. In the 
evenings, and at weekends, I would take the two "Records of Discipline" and my slipper 
back to our cottage. One reason for doing this was to keep them safe. The other was to 
remind myself and Dave of the disciplinary exploits of the previous day or week, and to 
preview forthcoming spankings.

  If anything, Dave found the speculation about the girls who were about to get slapped even 
sexier than the accounts of girls who had taken it. I would describe to him in graphic detail 
the physical attributes of the ladies due to take the pump, paying particular attention to how 
meaty their thighs and bottoms were, how much fanny hair they had and what colour it was, 
etc. Then, usually while we were both in bed together, I would fill in the "Action" column 
in the "Record of Discipline" so that Dave could see how many times I was going to smack 
them. I would then follow this up with a verbal report on how hard the slaps would be, 
whereabouts on their bottoms they would hit home, etc. To illustrate my points I would take 
my slipper out of the briefcase, show it to him with an explanatory commentary, and swish 
it around in an appropriate fashion. The thought that the girls were going to get it tomorrow 
or next week, as opposed to having already had it, Dave found very stimulating, especially 
since he was aware that they too knew what was about to hit them. "Wow", he would say, 
"I bet Mandy's (or whoever's) buttocks are already shuddering. I bet she's cursing you!" 
"Not as much as she soon will be!" I would reply, or else make some other appropriate sexy 
quip.

  Dave got particularly excited at my descriptions of what I was about to do with girls who 
had been caught smoking. To punish smoking with a spanking seemed particularly sexy and 
appropriate to Dave and me. The girls smoked partly because they thought that it was a 
grown up thing to do. They wanted to look "big" in front of their friends. Therefore, what 
better comeuppance could they get than to be punished in a particularly humiliating and 
embarrassing way, to be made to bend over, like naughty little girls, and get their bottoms 
well smacked? So much for their posing and their airs and graces! Instead of looking big in 
front of their friends they just looked stupid and ridiculous. Later other girls would tease, 
torment and laugh at them mercilessly. Their red rumps would be pointed at and giggled 
over in the showers. They would be offered cushions to sit on for weeks afterwards. And so 
on. Their punishment was a sharp and sexy reminder that they were far from being mature 
and sophisticated ladies. They were just naughty juveniles, immature teenagers who were 
by no means too old or too big to get their bottoms smacked. They had to submit to 
authority and do what they were told. They had to touch their toes and obediently present 
their rumps for chastisement. Then they had to stay in position and take it as their arses 
were well rattled by my trusty slipper.

  The procedure for girls caught smoking was as follows. Their cigarettes, tobacco, cigarette 
papers, matches, lighters, etc. were permanently confiscated. These were all given to me 
and I destroyed them. I carried out this pleasant duty in the evenings, or at the weekends, 
with Dave, and he found it all very stimulating. "Look", I would say, "Mandy (or whoever) 
has only smoked two out of this packet of twenty. Yet she will be getting eight of the best 
for that. That's four slaps per fag." Then we would destroy the other eighteen cigarettes, 
and, as we did so, I would tell Dave how much the packet had cost, and we would both 
rejoice that, in effect, the victim was being fined as well as spanked. On one occasion a girl 
was caught in possession of five hundred cigarettes. She was a boarder and she had secreted 
them in her dormitory. I destroyed all of them and, as I did this, I told Dave how much the 
smokes must have cost her. He whistled quietly. "Wow," he replied, "That's a big rap! I bet 
this is going to be the most expensive slapped arse she ever gets. It's going to cost her more 
than a fiver a swot!" "That's right," I said. "But at least I'll try to see that she gets value for 
money. I'll make sure I deliver eight really good ones, eight of the very, very best. Mind 
you, I would have been pleased to have whacked her for nothing." "Yes, I bet you would, 
you saucy, randy old dame," replied Dave.

  As I have indicated, we would hold conversations such as these when we were in bed 
together. I would tweak Dave's naked cock and he would tickle my fanny. The denouement 
was always the same. We would control ourselves for as long as we could to prolong the 
sexual ecstasy. But soon, despite our best efforts at restraint, we would be fucking each 
other violently and exploding into shattering mutual orgasms. And right through the sex act 
I would keep on talking dirty. "Go on, Dave," I would urge. "Wallop my fanny as hard as 
I'm going to wallop Mandy's. God, but I'll redden that young lady's bottom! I'll make her 
buttocks shudder, wobble and dance. I'll make her fanny hairs fly! Her butt will soon be 
stinging and tingling and no mistake! Eight of the best she will be getting, right across her 
big meaty arse. Whack! Number 1. Whack! Number 2. Whack! Number 3. Whack! Number 
4. Whack! Number 5. Whack! Number 6. Whack! Number 7. Whack! Number 8." And each 
time I cried out "Whack!" Dave would whack my hole with his pole! Mind you, not that I 
usually got very long to develop my argument. Frequently, unlike the arses of my fourth and 
fifth year victims, my fanny did not take all 8 whacks. Before Dave was able to administer 
the full dose we would both come off, with great violence!

  Anyway, let me continue with my tale. One Saturday morning in early July I went around 
to my friend Julia Mannion's house. She was the secretary of our squash club, I was a 
member of the committee, and there were a few things that I needed to discuss with her. 
When we had finished our club business, Julia provided a pot of tea and we both sat in the 
living room drinking and chatting.

  During the course of our discussion Julia asked me how Naomi and Ruth were getting on 
at school. I gave a full and positive report on their academic progress. At the end, however, 
I added that there was one thing that I was very disappointed about. Two days ago Naomi 
had been caught smoking in the lavatories.

  When she heard this Julia was furious, claiming that she had no idea that her daughter 
smoked. "I'll ground her for a month for this" she said in anger.

  I replied that the school also had its own internal disciplinary procedures, and that, in 
accordance with these, Naomi would be taking the slipper from me after her next 
gymnastics lesson on Tuesday afternoon.

  Now, as you may possibly have picked up from the girls' forenames, the Mannions are a 
Jewish family. The home environment was loving and caring, but also disciplined. Both 
parents were prominent squash club members and very sporty. They were very keen on 
personal exercise and fitness, and neither of them had ever smoked. Julia clearly saw her 
daughter's misdemeanour as a slap in the face for the family, for her personally, and for 
their philosophy and way of life, and she was clearly resolved to have it out with Naomi 
there and then.

  As well as being Jewish, the Mannions are also very rich. They live in a big, detached, 
secluded architect-designed house with a long drive with a swimming pool in the back 
garden. At that time they had an elderly maid. On sunny summer mornings such as this, the 
Mannions would have the water in their pool heated up to a pleasantly warm temperature. 
Sometimes Julia would invite Dave and me for a swim in it, and it was great. Unluckily for 
Naomi, that morning she had been swimming in the pool, and at that moment she was 
sunbathing beside it wearing nothing but a wet, skimpy bikini.

  Julia reached out her hand and rang for the maid. "Would you tell Naomi to come here 
please, Ethel?" The maid opened the doors onto the patio and delivered her message. 
Naomi knew that she was down to take the slipper, but she thought that she was safe until 
Tuesday. She had no idea that, at that very moment, I was sitting with her mother in the 
living room. She therefore entered, fresh faced and innocent, wondering what it was that 
her mother wanted.

  She soon found out. Julia really gave her a flea in her ear about the smoking, and told her 
that she was grounded for a month. She then added that she hoped the Dean of Discipline 
would slipper Naomi good and hard when she punished her at school. "Lay into her, Sally," 
she exhorted me. "I want you to really make her sting and smart. God, I'm only sorry I 
won't be able to see that for myself."

  I, of course, leapt at this chance. "Oh, but you can, Julia!" I replied. "Only too happy to 
oblige!" Then I turned to the miscreant. "Naomi," I said politely. "You will find my car 
parked in the drive, with my briefcase on the front passenger seat. Inside the case you will 
find my slipper. Would you bring it to me please? The door is unlocked." Naomi was 
stunned by the rapid development of this disciplinary initiative, and walked off to do my 
bidding in a seeming daze. By the time she returned with the slipper, however, the awful 
reality had hit her. She had clearly wised up, and was blushing profusely with trepidation 
and embarrassment.

 "Thank you, Naomi", I said pleasantly. "Give the slipper to me, please. Now, kindly come 
here." I might add that, by now, I was shaking like a leaf. The situation was so sexy and so 
ridiculous. The previous evening, Dave and I had both destroyed Naomi's cigarettes, 
together with her expensive cigarette lighter, and had previewed her forthcoming spanking 
in our regular Friday night review session. Dave had been particularly turned on by the 
destruction of the lighter. "Wow," he said. "It's a top of the range Ronson. These cost more 
than twice as much as a fixed penalty parking ticket. Poor old Naomi - stung in the pocket 
as well as across the bum!" Then I booked Naomi for eight of the best in the "Record of 
Discipline's" "Action" column, and described next Tuesday's chastisement to Dave in 
graphic detail. Meanwhile, he fucked me violently, to our great mutual orgasmic 
satisfaction. Dave found the subject even sexier than usual because we knew the Mannions 
so well. For several years Dave had watched Naomi develop from a gawky, lanky schoolgirl 
into a lusty, strapping teenager with well developed boobs, nubile thighs, a big meaty 
bottom and the unmistakeably feminine figure of a young, adult woman. Naomi thought of 
Dave as a kind, generous, surrogate uncle. Well, so he was. But he was also, as I have said 
before, a very salacious and dirty old man. The thought of a lady of sixteen, so big and so 
beautiful, having to bend over and take the pump across her scantily clad bottom drove him 
wild with delight and passion. Wow! He had given me one of the hardest shaggings of my 
life as I was describing to him Naomi's future fate!

  As for me, out of school hours I too had always been a sort of kind and very friendly auntie 
to Naomi and Ruth. This, therefore, was an intimate, family affair, and I found it all very 
exciting, but also very embarrassing. In short, I was nervous, and all sorts of worrying 
thoughts were going through my mind. What, I conjectured, if Julia objects to what I am 
about to do after I have done it! It could end our friendship, jeopardise my membership of 
the squash club, and even cause me trouble at school. And so on. But it was too late to turn 
back now, and I resolved to push ahead whatever the consequences.

  Meanwhile, Naomi had come over, slowly and reluctantly, to the middle of the room 
where I was standing. As she did so I gazed at her gorgeous body. I was enchanted at the 
sight. I remembered how I had admired Naomi in the showers after last Tuesday's gym 
lesson. I recalled her tall and naked with the hot water cascading over her. She was a girl of 
dark complexion, with long jet-black hair and dark brown, tanned skin. But even on her 
boobs, bottom and lower tummy, where she had escaped the sun, Naomi was a beautiful 
shade of light brown. Her thick, crinkly, wiry, jet-black pubic hair was devastating - long, 
luxuriant and bushy. Even among all the other nubile and pulchritudinous females in those 
showers, Naomi had stood out in her youth and splendour. She had a beauty that was almost 
arrogant in its ease, grace and charm, and I had been stunned by her. Wow! I had thought to 
myself. What a sumptuous Jewish virgin! Not Eve, not Sarah, not Bathsheba, not Esther, 
not Susannah - no, not one of the many beautiful ladies in the Hebrew Scriptures could 
possibly have been much lovelier than you! And now, here was this gorgeous creature, this 
delectable daughter of Zion, in all her pulchritude and splendour, about to get her bottom 
smacked like a naughty little girl. Surely, I mused, it could never be right to humiliate such 
a wonder of nature, to mark and redden her flawless skin, to vex her, to rob her of her 
dignity, to disfigure, if only temporarily, her beauteous perfection, and to cause her 
discomfort, embarrassment and humiliation.

  But, on the other hand, there was something that was a little bit too cocky and self assured 
about Naomi's easy grace and beauty, something that made me want to take her down a 
peg. There seemed to me to be a touch of pride and arrogance there, what the ancient 
Greeks would have called hubris, and it needed to be purged. Recently she appeared to me 
to be growing stroppy. She was developing "side." She had begun to assume that she was 
above authority and that rules (e.g. the smoking ban) did not apply to her. A sharp 
slippering, I concluded, should have a wholesome and cathartic effect on this increasingly 
difficult and rebellious teenager. "Yes, my girl," I thought to myself as I eyed her up and 
marvelled at her stunning body. "I'll prick your bubble. I'll vex you and cut your ego to 
size. It will do you good to be chastened. You are about to get a sharp, embarrassing, sexy 
and very intimate comeuppance. It will be a most salutary lesson, and I will make sure that 
you do not forget it in a hurry!"

  By now Naomi had joined me in the middle of the room. "Would you face the wall, 
please?" I said, pleasantly and politely. (I sometimes, but not always, try to be pleasant and 
polite when slapping butt. I find the contrast between my soft, courteous and friendly words 
and my sharp, rude, brusque and sexy actions a real turn on.) As she turned away from me I 
ogled Naomi's big, skimpily clad bum. I felt my crotch go wet, and I was excited almost to 
orgasm to see clumps of thick, crinkly, wiry black pubic hair protruding from around the 
gusset of her swim-wear. Naomi, as I have said, had been swimming in the pool. She was 
wearing a swimming cap and was still quite wet. Her pubic hairs were sodden and sticking 
to the tops of her thighs. "Wow," I thought to myself as I leant forward to get a closer look. 
"That's beautiful. I am really in luck today. That bikini bottom is cut away and most of the 
arse is hanging out of it. It is also wet and thin and has gone semi-transparent. It is clinging 
to those buttocks beautifully. It will give even less protection than gym knickers, and I will 
get an excellent view of what I am doing." For several seconds I stared helplessly at my 
target, too excited to continue. Then I got a grip on myself, and delivered the appropriate 
instructions: "Now, touch your toes, please, Naomi, keeping your legs straight." Before 
Naomi had a chance to do this, however, her mother broke across what I was doing. "Stop!" 
she said sharply.

  Immediately, my heart leapt violently in my bosom, my mouth went as dry as dust, and I 
began to shake like a leaf. I was certain that Julia had changed her mind, that she was about 
to halt the proceedings, tear me off a strip and order me out of her house. For between three 
and five seconds there was an agonising silence during which I was trembling and sweating.

  Then Julia spoke again. "Wait! Let's make this a spanking to remember." Now Naomi's 
bikini bottom was kept in place by two cords, tied in bows, one on each hipbone. Julia went 
up to Naomi, deftly grabbed the loose ends of these bows, one between the thumb and 
forefinger of each hand, and pulled them apart. She then tugged at both cord ends and 
pulled the lower half of her bikini from off Naomi's bottom. The effect of this was that I 
immediately got an eyeful of Naomi's big bare bum, positioned a few inches away from my 
face. It was beautiful. A large, downwardly facing isosceles triangle of light brown, 
untanned flesh seemed to be imprinted across both buttocks, surrounded by the rich, dark 
brown tanned areas of the upper thighs and back. At the bottom tip of this triangle, where it 
curved around into the fanny crack, her luxuriant tousle of curly, wet, jet black pubic hair 
was stuck, in indelicate and saucy profusion, to the lower buttocks and the insides of the 
upper thighs. By now I was so excited and over-stimulated that my head was spinning 
wildly. I was palpitating violently, and I was afraid that soon I would swoon away and fall 
to the floor. For a while I was so giddy that I found it necessary to steady myself by holding 
on to the back of an armchair. But then, somehow, I managed to pull myself together and 
continue with my instructions.

 "As I was saying, Naomi", I went on politely, in a disarmingly pleasant, courteous and 
relaxed manner, "would you kindly bend over please?" As Naomi obediently complied with 
my request I almost fainted again. As she stretched downwards her hairy fanny and plump 
labial lips were presented perfectly to my gaze. I was very excited at the thought of what I 
was about to do to Naomi, but I also lasciviously fantasised about what Dave would like to 
do to her if he had been there. By now his cock would be as stiff as a poker All that he 
would need to do would be to place his naked, engorged cockhead between Naomi's 
buttocks, then guide it gently to her cunt lips and push. He would enjoy the lascivious 
pleasures of Naomi's honey pot perfectly, and as nature intended. Oh, yes! The dirty old 
bugger would get far more ecstasy and bliss than any man has a right to on this side of 
Paradise, at least from a lady who was not his wife! Anyway, I paused to get a vivid mental 
picture of Naomi's pudenda so that I could excite Dave with a description of it later!

  Then I had a thought that was very sexy, but also very unfair. I began to fantasise about 
how much Dave would lust over Naomi if she presented her fanny to him. The idea riled 
me and made me jealous. "Wow, Naomi," I thought to myself. "Your arse and fanny are so 
sexy it's wicked. God, how I envy you your youth and nubility. I am only a little more than 
ten years older than you are, but you make me feel like I am a raddled and wrinkled old 
crone. You are absolutely perfect, more perfect than anyone has a right to be in this world 
of sin. But I'll shake your pedestal for you. I'll mark your fresh, youthful, spotless and 
immaculate body. I'll give you some sexy red marks in a very intimate, amusing and 
embarrassing place! 

  Poor Naomi, nubile and innocent virgin that she was! Her only sin on this score was that 
she was so stunningly beautiful. Yet just for that a spiteful, envious and vindictive old bitch 
was about to chastise her with just that little extra bit of vigour and venom! Oh yes! There 
would be an edge and a sharpness to Naomi's slippering that would have been absent if she 
had not been so lovely. Naomi, of course, was being smacked for smoking, and it was 
blatantly unfair that she should get it harder just because she was beautiful. But then that is 
the tribute, I thought, that beauty must pay to envy!

  But yet again I digress, and yet again, dear reader, you must accept my apologies. Let us 
return to how I spanked Naomi on that fine summer's morning.

  In accordance with my time-honoured tradition I started fairly gently, with some tail flicks 
across the back of Naomi's fanny hairs. Crack! I gave a little flick with my wrist and the 
plimsoll landed sharply on the plump lower meat of both buttocks adjacent to Naomi's 
cunt. The slap was not very hard, but it was sharp enough to make Naomi's buttocks 
shudder, and to leave a delicate pink tinge across the moist cunt meat. "Come on," I 
exhorted. "Straighten those legs and stretch." Crack! "No! You know that isn't good 
enough!" This second flick was to exactly the same place, across the plump, sexy fanny 
meat just above the backs of the thighs. It was also slightly harder. Then came the third 
flick. Crack! This one was slightly harder again. "Naomi! I know that you can do better than 
that. Now bend over as instructed. You are beginning to annoy me." So saying, I gently 
pushed my pupil's head downwards. "That's a bit better. Now hold it. No." Slap! "You are 
relaxing again." This fourth tail flick was a beauty. It was just that bit harder again, and it 
landed absolutely flush across both bare buttocks with a sharp, high pitched crack. Yet 
again the bum shuddered and quivered deliciously at the force of the blow. By now 
Naomi's fanny meat was beautifully pink and tender, and she was straining and grunting 
with great determination to avoid a fifth preparatory spank. At this stage I judged that I had 
sufficiently tenderised the fanny meat and adequately prepared it for roasting. "O.K." I said. 
"That's just about acceptable. Let's begin."

  Then followed Naomi's spanking proper. Whack! The first slap was a real sizzler, right 
across the fanny meat where the four preparatory smacks had landed. As the slipper hit 
home a loud high pitched crack rang out around the room. Naomi's wet black cunt curls 
were re-arranged into a new pattern on her fanny, inside bum and thighs, and her big, moist, 
meaty buttocks shuddered and quivered. As I have explained, in my jealousy and spite I 
struck my target with just that little extra bit of sharpness and venom. This, plus the 
slipper's added bite and edge as it struck bare meat as opposed to the seat of a pair of gym 
knickers, came as a sharp and distinct surprise to the victim, and she emitted an audible and 
involuntary grunt. "Nngh!"

  I waited for a few seconds, until I saw the sexy red imprint of my slipper appear across the 
plump v-shape of un-suntanned meat where Naomi's bum curved around to her fanny 
crack. I knew that as soon as this appeared Naomi's rump would start to sting and ring like 
a bell and that, as the tingling escalated, she would get more and more angry and outraged 
at what I had done to her. I allowed just long enough for Naomi's bare bum to tingle, and 
for her fury to reach its crescendo. Then, at that exact moment, I gave her another one. 
Whack!

  Like its predecessor, slap number two hit home right across the back of the twat. "Oh!" 
The slap landed on meat that was already pink and tingling from the five previous swots, 
causing the victim to emit a low cry. I then left the fanny meat to sizzle while I 
administered four slaps to the rest of the bottom, aiming at the meatiest bits that I could find 
that had thus far remained unreddened and unchastised. As these wallops hit home Naomi 
gasped audibly at each sharp crack of slipper onto quivering bum. Then came the grand 
finale. I aimed slap seven right at the centre of the wet fur-ball of pubic hair protruding 
from the rear of Naomi's fanny. Whack!! The slipper hit home absolutely flush across 
exactly the same piece of arse that had already taken the four preparatory flicks and slaps 
one and two. The sharp, high-pitched crack sent a delicious tingle down my spine. "Aw!" 
yelled Naomi, shocked yet again by the force of the blow. Then she began to gently cry out: 
"Oh! Oh!! Ooooooooh!!!" Amused and sexually excited by her discomfiture I paused for a 
little while. Then came the final slap, yet again to exactly the same piece of arse. Whack!!! 
Yet again Naomi's wet fanny hairs were re-arranged, and her buttocks wobbled 
provocatively. This whack number eight was a really sharp and spiteful one and it rang out 
like the crack of a rifle. By now I was so excited that I thought I was about to faint. My 
entire body was throbbing and quivering and a series of delicious frissons was running up 
and down my spine. Naomi, however, was clearly a damsel in distress. "Aw! Aw!! Aw!!!" 
she cried in pain, rage and frustration.

 Before Naomi could rise I rapped out my next orders. "Now, Naomi, take your hands off 
your toes, and clasp them together on top of your head, please. Good. Now stand up straight 
and face me." By now I could see that Naomi was hopping mad with me, but she 
nevertheless obediently complied. She stood there before me. Her hair was encased in her 
bathing cap, and this exposed the beauty of her long, slim neck and shoulders. Her bikini 
top covered Naomi's boobs, her bikini bottom had been removed. It was in her mother's 
hand, and Naomi's fanny was completely bare and exposed. As the victim stood there with 
her hands on her head I got a perfect view of the dark, thick, sexy black clumps of hair 
protruding brazenly from underneath her two armpits, and I fell to musing on the interesting 
and salacious question as to whether or not each of these clumps was bigger and hairier 
than the even sexier clump of black hair that sprouted from her fanny. My speculation 
reached the conclusion that the fanny was hairier. But it was still, as Wellington said of the 
Battle of Waterloo, a damn close run thing. Then I jerked myself back to the matter in hand 
and, as Naomi stood there vulnerable and exposed, I gave her a verbal roasting on the 
dangers of smoking. As you will have gathered by now, dear reader, I have a sharp and 
shrewish tongue, and a great gift for tearing my victims off a strip. Naomi got a lengthy and 
cutting tongue-lashing that ticked her off, and that also teased and tormented her for having 
had her bottom smacked like a naughty little girl. Wow! Did I give her a flea in her ear! By 
the time I had finished with her she was squirming with shame, rage and embarrassment. 
Then I told her, like the naughty little girl that she was, to go and stand in the corner of the 
room with her face to the wall, and her hands still on her head. "You will stand there for ten 
minutes," I said, "and during that ten minutes I want you to think hard about how sharply 
your bottom is tingling. I want you to remember that vividly before you ever think of 
lighting up another cigarette. Yes. Please consider carefully whether the pleasure of a 
smoke is worth the stinging indignity and humiliation of the ensuing punishment." Poor old 
Naomi! She was not even given the chance to do what at that moment she probably wanted 
to do more than anything else in the world: to rub and massage her stinging rump!

  With Naomi safely despatched to her corner I sat down in my chair and turned my 
attention, with some trepidation, to her mother. During Naomi's chastisement I had been 
utterly engrossed and absorbed in the task at hand, and had paid Julia no attention. Now I 
looked full into her eyes over the top of the teapot, trying to discern how she had taken the 
chastening of her daughter. I was disturbed and disconcerted at what I saw.

  Julia seemed speechless, stunned by what she had witnessed. She clearly had not 
anticipated that Naomi's punishment would be so swift, so sharp, so humiliating and so 
sexy. She gazed back at me and her eyes were shining brightly. I could see that she had 
found Naomi's comeuppance utterly compelling. But was she outraged and furious, or 
amused, excited and stimulated, by what she had seen? I think that she was all of these 
things, and a few more besides. For what seemed an interminable time, but was probably 
about a couple of minutes, Julia stared at me, transfixed, as these various emotions boiled 
within her. Julia's inner turmoil reached no clear and simple conclusion, but, as she 
continued to stare at me, I did notice one important emotion. There was a look of 
admiration and respect in her eyes for me, and for the way I had taken down her daughter. It 
was as if I was a brilliant horsewoman who had just broken in and tamed a skittish and 
difficult filly. Julia could not take her eyes off mine, and for a long time she was speechless. 
Then she broke her silence. "Phwoah" she said, so gently that I could scarcely hear her. 
"Wow!" Then she pulled herself together. "Sally", she said, in a bright and polite tone of 
voice. "Your tea must be cold. Let me pour you a fresh cup." The two of us then chatted 
and gossiped gaily. I noticed, however, that Julia, like myself, was stunned at the sight of 
Naomi's bottom, which was still on display in the corner of the room. I was able to stare 
hard and long at it, since it was straight ahead of me, in my line of vision. To get as good a 
view Julia had to incline her head at an angle. This she frequently and obsessively did, and 
she was clearly stunned, shocked and fascinated at the victim's obedient compliance, at her 
humiliation, and at her red, well smacked bum.

  Eventually the ten minutes of ogling were up for both of us. "OK, Naomi" I said in a 
kindly and friendly voice. "You can go now." At these words the victim immediately took 
her hands off her head and ruefully and gingerly massaged her bum, even though, after ten 
minutes, the worst of the stinging was clearly over. Then, after about half a minute of 
rubbing, Naomi took her bikini bottom from her mother. She did not bother to put it back 
on, however. Instead, still rubbing her big, bare, reddened rump, she walked up the stairs 
and into her bedroom to compose herself in private. As for Julia and me, we continued 
chatting for another half hour or so and then I left.

  That night my account of my exploits to Dave thoroughly over-excited him. I narrated the 
tale at about 10 p.m., and at 2 a.m. on Sunday morning his stiffened cock was still rock 
hard, and mercilessly trip-hammering my fanny. As for Julia, I never found out for certain 
whether she was pleased or enraged at what I had done. But she was certainly very 
impressed by it and from then on she regarded me with a mixture of awe, respect and 
admiration. Indeed, after all these years, she is still my firm friend, and I believe that she 
continues to hold me in esteem and to regard me highly for the sharp and sexy way that I 
brought her daughter to heel, even though she has never specifically mentioned the incident 
since.


Story the Third: The Fighters Bit

  It was in the dormitories where I got to slap most girls "on the bare." After lights out a 
certain amount of youthful high spirits and horseplay was tolerated. In the first instance 
midnight feasts, pillow fights, minor incidents of rowdiness, etc., merely elicited a formal 
warning. Disciplinary action only followed if such infractions were severe and persistent. 
The same was not true, however, of fighting. Whenever and wherever it happened this 
always earned the culprits a slippering. If it occurred in a dormitory that slippering was 
always "on the bare," with the victims having their regulation nightgowns (which until girls 
reached the sixth form were a standard design and part of the school uniform) pulled up 
over their backs. It was also standard procedure, when two girls were slapped for fighting, 
for them to be lined up side by side and to be spanked together. First one bare arse would 
take it, then the other, at two-second intervals or so. This was double the hit rate of other 
spankings, but it ensured that, as usual, each bum was struck about every four seconds.

  The first time I punished girls caught fighting in a dormitory was also the first time that I 
slapped bare arse while working in a school environment. The incident occurred about a 
year after I had returned from my post in the West Indies, just after I had been appointed 
Dean of Discipline in the school where I was to spend my entire teaching career after I 
came back to England. (It was also the school where I was later to be promoted to 
headmistress.)

  The fight occurred in 5C's dormitory just after lights out, and it was a corker. The prefect 
for 5C, who slept in an adjoining room, had been completely unable to stop it and had been 
forced to call the headmistress. By the time she arrived both fighters were inflamed and 
enraged, and even she could not pull them apart until assisted by the rest of the class. The 
headmistress, Miss Pargeter, was a crusty old dame and very firm on discipline. She was 
incensed that the two culprits had been so persistent in their delinquency and just would not 
stop fighting. According to the reports that I picked up, she slapped them both across the 
face, hard, with the flat of her hand, gave them a long and savage lashing with her tongue 
and ordered them off to stand outside her study. She then came and woke me up.

  I had had a hard day and had gone to bed early. When the headmistress rapped on my door 
I was in a deep sleep. I woke up. Dozily, I pulled on my dressing gown, slipped on my 
slippers, and answered the call. "Come with me," said the beak in an imperious fashion that 
brooked no argument. By the time we were in her study I was wide awake and the 
adrenaline was flowing.

  While the girls waited outside the head and I discussed their case. In instances of extreme 
delinquency, such as thieving, the headmistress reserved the right to inflict the cane. By 
now, however, she had calmed down and, prompted by me, accepted that the use of such a 
barbarous implement was inappropriate for what was basically a bout of high spirits that 
had got out of hand. She therefore decided that the application of my slipper to the rumps of 
the miscreants would be punishment enough, and asked me to summon them in.

  When the two girls entered they were barefoot and still dressed only in their nightgowns. 
As they stood in front of the beak's big desk, with the boss and I seated on the other side of 
it, I eyed them up with interest. They were both big strapping 17-year-olds at the peak of 
their physical beauty and sexual attractiveness.

  First there was Margaret Bushnell. She was slightly taller, and, if anything, even bigger, 
better developed and more voluptuous than her adversary. She had, however, come out of 
the fighting worse off than her opponent. Her nightgown was so badly torn that she had to 
hold it over her breasts to stop it falling down and leaving them bare. In addition, her face, 
neck, arms and shoulders were badly bruised, scratched and lacerated, and blood was 
oozing out from the more serious wounds. Margaret was a brunette, with beautiful, long, 
curly black hair. At the moment, this was all over the place. It had been pulled very hard. A 
lot of it, indeed, had been tugged out and lay festooned all over her upper body.

  The other girl was a blonde called Pamela Morton. She was slightly less Junoesque and 
well built than Margaret. But she was very sexy and shapely with a beautiful, curvaceous, 
womanly figure. I knew well as her gym mistress that Pamela was an excellent athlete and 
sportswoman. She had certainly got the better of the fighting. She had inflicted considerable 
damage on her opponent, while emerging more or less unscathed, if a bit dishevelled, 
herself.

  Like me, the headmistress believed in a good disciplinary build-up. She also, like me, had 
a great gift for tearing a strip off offenders with a searing tongue-lashing. Now, for what 
must have been about 10 to 15 minutes, she really laid into Margaret and Pamela. My 
goodness! Big as they were they were both wincing and cringing from the onslaught by the 
time she had finished with them. This was an incident of common affray and assault, she 
thundered and actual bodily harm had been inflicted. Who the hell did they think they 
were? How dare they! They had committed actual criminal offences, and she was in half a 
mind to call the police. No punishment by the school could possibly be severe enough. At 
the very least they deserved to be caned and expelled. There was a lot more along the same 
lines, but you get the picture. Anyway, to conclude, the headmistress told the two of them 
that she was going to let them off lightly by handing them over to me, the Dean of 
Discipline, for a slippering. "You both of you think that you are so big and grown up," she 
raged. "But I'll show you. You deserve worse punishment, but at least I'll have your 
bottoms smacked for you like the two naughty little girls that you are.

  By now, I was very sexually excited. The victims both had pulchritudinous physiques. 
Then I found Margaret's dishevelled, deshabill and bloodied appearance a very kinky turn-
on. Her nightdress was ripped, her hair was torn out by the roots, and her face and upper 
body were disfigured by the bruises, livid weals and ugly scratches inflicted by her 
opponent. Now that the ball was in my court, I was determined to milk the situation for all 
it was worth.

  I had already worked out that, of the two of them, Pamela deserved the more severe 
punishment, and I resolved to even up the score for the actual bodily harm that she had 
inflicted on Margaret.

 "Pamela", I said sharply. "Please go to my room, and bring me my slipper. You will find it 
in the brief case on my desk. And be sure to be both silent and quick about it. If you wake 
anyone up, or if you take longer than two minutes, you will receive additional punishment.

  At this, Pamela, clearly worried by my threats, left briskly to do my bidding. While she 
was away I tried to calm and comfort Margaret. I came round the desk, stood close to her, 
gently laid my hand on the back of her head and carefully inspected her injuries. "Could 
you come to my room with me afterwards, Margaret?" I asked in a concerned, sympathetic 
and friendly voice. "I need to clean and dress these bruises and cuts."

  Soon Pamela returned, red faced and panting, with my spanking slipper. I had already 
developed my procedures for punishing girls for fighting, and, in accordance with these, I 
lined up both culprits side by side and told them to straighten their legs and touch their toes. 
Then the headmistress did something for which I shall be eternally grateful. I had only been 
employed at the school for a short while, and I did not yet know all of the ground rules. At 
that time, in the formal environment of a school, I would never have dared to bare a girl's 
buttocks before whacking her. But Miss Pargeter had no such qualms. As soon as both girls 
were lined up to take correction, and bending over, she rose from her chair and came 
briskly around the desk. "One moment, Miss Trubshawe," she said, and, without so much 
as batting an eyelid, she smartly yanked each girl's nightgown up over her back.

  Well, wow oh wow! In an instant I was transported back via the fondest of memories to 
my experiences as a governess in the West Indies. I had not slapped any naked quim since I 
had left there, and boy oh boy was I missing it. Now, as both girls obediently presented their 
bare rumps to me as instructed, I could hardly believe my luck. First I stared transfixed at 
Margaret's nude bottom and fanny. The bum was big, plump and meaty, and beneath and 
between the pear-shaped buttocks I gasped to see the two big, fleshy labial lips covered in a 
thick wiry clump of curly black pubic hair. Then I looked at Pamela's rear end and honey 
pot. She was the nearest of the two girls to me, and I had an excellent view. Her figure was 
less full bodied than Margaret's. But it was very nicely shaped. The perfectly formed 
buttocks were trim but meaty. The thighs were long and bulged out nicely. Then below the 
knees were two of the most curvaceous calves that I think I have ever seen. Pamela had 
slightly less fanny hair than Margaret. It was silky and downy and blonde in colour, and 
through it the enchanted observer had an excellent rear view of her cunt lips. Wow! This 
would be a spanking that I would never forget! And I would do my best to see that Margaret 
and Pamela had cause to remember it too!

  My stricter punishment of Pamela started with the preparatory tail flicks. I commenced, 
however, by stretching across Pamela's bottom and slapping Margaret into line. Flick! 
"Come on girl! Bend over!" Margaret's big, full-sized womanly bottom quivered and 
wobbled deliciously and, after a few seconds, her fanny meat turned a fetching shade of 
pink where she had taken the pump. I waited for this first flick to tingle and then: Flick!! 
"No! Straight legs!" This second flick, like the one before it, fell slap across the back of the 
fanny hairs, onto the plump, nubile buttock meat just above the thighs. It was slightly harder 
than the first flick, and the recipient breathed out sharply with an audible "Ach!" I then 
pushed gently down on the back of Margaret's head and waited for her to fully feel flick 
number two. Then: Flick!!! This third preparatory slap was a beauty. It again landed with a 
sharp, satisfying crack slap across both bare buttocks adjacent to the quim. "Margaret! Are 
you being deliberately disobedient? If you do not shape up pronto and bend over as 
instructed I promise you that I will make you feel very, very sorry for yourself." This last 
quip was, of course, blatantly unfair, since even before flick number 1 Margaret was 
sweating and straining to do my bidding to the very best of her ability. By now she was 
grunting audibly as she pushed her fingers past her toes with all her strength. "OK" I said 
grudgingly. "That still isn't good enough, but I'll leave it there for the moment. The least 
relaxation on your part, however, young lady, will be met with a very strict and sharp 
comeuppance. Do I make myself plain?" "Yes, Miss Trubshawe" grunted Margaret from 
between clenched teeth as, gasping and panting, she continued to force herself to bend over 
as far as she possibly could.

  Next I started on Pamela's rump. Smack! I slapped her significantly harder than I had 
flicked Margaret, and she was sharply taken aback. The fanny meat of her shapely buttocks 
was rudely rattled, and she let out a shocked and urgent grunt: "Ngh!" "Bend over, girl!" I 
barked. "Come on! Get on with it!" There followed a four second pause, and then: Smack!! 
"I said get on with it!" This time the smack I administered was harder still, and, outraged 
and distressed, Pamela let out a little involuntary scream: "Aaagh!" (Four second wait to 
give the bare bum time to tingle.) SMACK!!! (Four second wait.) SMACK!!! (Wait four 
seconds) SMACK!!! I thus gave Pamela three more unwanted free gifts, right across the 
back of the fanny hairs again, with each smack significantly harder than the one before it. 
"Pamela, are you being deliberately disobedient? This can go on all night if you want it to. I 
am not prepared to commence your chastisement until you are bending over as instructed." 
"I'm sorry, Miss Trubshawe," murmured the helpless victim, who, like her opponent 
Margaret, had been forced to take this arbitrary extra chastening despite the fact that, all 
along, she had been doing her very best to obey my orders. I waited a few seconds more and 
then: SMACK!!! "Sorry is not good enough, Pamela. I want actions not words." "I beg your 
pardon, Miss" grunted Pamela helplessly as she stretched and strained to push her fingers to 
the floor. "I'm doing my best, I promise I am." Poor Pamela! In the whole world there must 
have been two things that she did not want to take above all else. Yet she took both of them, 
and she took them exactly where she did not want to take them. SMACK!!! (Four second 
wait.) SMACK!!! I gave my victim two more gratuitous wallops slap across the back of her 
naked cunt. "Well your best is just not good enough, Pamela. I am not impressed!" I had by 
now arbitrarily inflicted an extra eight hard slaps to the distraught Pamela's quivering 
buttocks. I had wrung, stung, wobbled and quivered her fanny meat and turned it a 
beautiful, fetching shade of red. So, "enough arsing about," I thought to myself. "Let's get 
on with the chastisement proper."

  Both girls were big 16 to 17 year old repeat year fifth formers in 5C. For such girls the 
standard punishment, as I explain more fully elsewhere, was a regulation 12 of the best. 
And wow, but did I enjoy administering those 24 slaps to those two big, bare, meaty, nubile 
arses! Actually, I went easy on Margaret's bum and tried to have a bit of fun. She had 
suffered enough physical damage in the fight, I concluded, and did not deserve to be 
punished that much more. I therefore slapped her just hard enough to vex, madden and 
enrage her. And her big, soft, vulnerable, Junoesque bottom was a magnificent recipient for 
the sexy applications of my slipper. I really enjoyed myself with her. With Pamela, 
however, it was business as well as pleasure. I spanked her hard and I made sure that she 
felt it.

  Smack! The first slap fell across Margaret's buttocks. It was quite a hard one and she 
clearly did not like it at all. "Aw!" she exclaimed testily. Then, as she began to tingle, she 
started to mutter angrily: "Ngh! Ngh! Ngh!" Next, while this was going on, Pamela took her 
first slap. SMACK!!! My goodness, but she felt that one! It was much harder than the slap I 
had given to Margaret, and it rang out much, much louder. It was thus, as I had intended it 
to be, immediately apparent to Pamela that she was getting the worse end of the stick. 
Wow! She was infuriated! "Aaagh!" she yelled, much louder than Margaret had done. Then, 
when the slap began to tingle, she began crying out loudly, as though she were in the midst 
of an orgasm except that she sounded very, very angry: "Oh! Oh!! Oh!!!"

   Two seconds later, and while Pamela was in the midst of her outraged and sexy verbals, 
Margaret's arse took it again. Margaret was bending over with her legs slightly akimbo, 
rather than pushing her thighs together. This gave me a superb rear view of her full-sized 
womanly quim, and of the thick fur-ball of pubic hair that sprouted from it in the most 
jaunty and saucy fashion. It also opened up just a little more of the plump fanny meat of her 
lower buttocks across the back of her twat to the assault of my pump. Smack!! There was a 
crisp crack. Margaret's fanny hairs were scattered and her buttocks wobbled and quivered 
provocatively as her hirsute undercarriage took it again. Then, as the victim felt the 
escalating tingling her vexation and outrage at what I was doing to her boiled over. 
"Nooooooo!" she muttered angrily between clenched teeth.

  Soon, however, Margaret had cause to rejoice rather than complain. Because as hard as 
she was getting it, at least she knew that her adversary Pamela was getting it a lot harder. 
SMACK!!! Pamela took her second slap to the same part of her anatomy as Margaret had 
taken hers. It was also where she had taken her first slap, and before that the eight pre-
spanking tail flicks. The plimsoll struck her lower buttocks across the back of her blonde 
fanny hairs like the crack of a rifle. Wow! Her bum quivered, and her fanny hairs flew. 
Meanwhile, Pamela was feeling the incremental effect of ten hard slaps delivered to exactly 
the same piece of arse, and she howled plenty. "Oh! Oh!! Oh!!!" she kept yelling, with great 
urgency, as she squirmed and wriggled at the sexy assault of my slipper.

  Meanwhile, I noted with satisfaction the contrast between the two girls' bottoms. 
Margaret's rump was certainly well reddened across the back of her twat. But it has taken a 
lot less punishment than her adversary's fanny meat. Pamela's lower buttocks had been 
beautifully tenderised by my eight preparatory spanks. Then, when her spanking had started 
in earnest, the second slap had fallen almost exactly on top of the first one with the result 
that the red outline of my slipper was sharply and clearly imprinted and stencilled across 
her rump in the most saucy and provocative fashion. I smiled in satisfaction as I noted my 
successful application of the pump.

  Smack! Two seconds after Pamela took her second spank, Margaret received her third. As 
I have explained, I was not laying into Margaret all that hard. I was having a bit of fun. 
Even so, she clearly did not see the joke. "Aagh!" she cried out as the slipper hit home. 
Then "Ngh! Ngh!! Ngh!!!" she muttered angrily as she raged against the escalating tingling.

  At this I was amused, but also sympathetic. "This young lady," I thought to myself, "is 
clearly distressed, as she deserves to be. But I will try to make her feel a little bit happier. 
At least I will continue to pay Pamela back for the injuries she has inflicted upon her." 

  With this object in mind I then again concentrated my attention on Pamela's bum and 
hairy fanny. "Yes, my girl" I thought to myself. "How dare you disfigure feminine 
pulchritude? I'll teach you a lesson you won't forget in a hurry! You may be tingling now, 
but this is only the beginning! Just you wait until I have finished with you! I'll check that 
vicious temper of yours! I'll enforce virtuous, well governed and ladylike behaviour on you, 
you truculent, brawling yobess!" Meanwhile, I slowly drew back my slipper as far as I 
could. Then, taking careful aim, yet again, at the beleaguered buttock meat just above 
where it met the backs of the thighs, I brought round my slipper, very, very hard, across the 
back of Pamela's hairy cunt slot. SMACK!!! The slipper struck home, yet again, slap across 
both bare buttocks. Another loud report rang out. Wow! It echoed around the room like an 
exploding firecracker! "Ouch!" yelled Pamela, with all her might. Then, over the next few 
seconds, as her bum fully felt the incremental tingling: "Ah! Ah!! Ah!!! AAAAAGH!!!"

  Anyway, dear reader, life is short, and my descriptive writing is, I fear, overlong, so I will 
move on. You have got the picture. Ostensibly each girl received the same punishment. In 
accordance with my standard practice when spanking 5C girls they each took three slaps 
across the back of their hairy twats, followed by six whacks delivered higher up, aimed ad 
lib to the rest of the bum. Finally the last three smacks were applied, just that little bit more 
sharply and spitefully, across the lower fanny meat where the first three had landed. But the 
difference, as I have said, is that Pamela got it a lot harder than Margaret. She did not like 
this at all. She was particularly incensed at the final three whacks. These, as they usually 
do, landed across the back of the fanny hairs again and they were beauties. Wow! I really let 
her have it and I bet it didn't half sting! But what seemed to really rile Pamela was that, 
firm and effective as they were, the three final spanks which I inflicted upon Margaret were 
nowhere near as hard, and rang out nowhere near as crisply and as sharply. Pamela clearly 
thought that she was hard done by. She was fuming and furious at what she saw as the 
injustice of it all. But to me it seemed fair enough. Pamela was well out of order for the way 
she had beat up Margaret. She deserved everything she got and more.

  By the time Pamela had taken her twelfth spank and the girls' punishment was over I was 
very excited. My heart was pounding and my head was reeling. I was perspiring freely and 
beads of sweat were cascading down from my brow onto my shoulders and upper arms. 
There was a danger that I might lose the plot and dismiss the two victims before I had 
rubbed salt into their wounds. But I need not have worried. The headmistress, Miss 
Pargeter, who during the chastisement of the miscreants had been silently observing from 
the background, came to my support.

 "Right, girls," she barked out. "Stay in position until you are told to move."

  She then looked me straight in the eyes. She was clearly pleased and impressed with the 
way I had conducted myself, and was beaming with pleasure and delight.

 "Thank you, Miss Trubshawe," she said, and she gave me a nod of approval. Then she 
turned her attention to the girls. "Pamela! Margaret!" she said sharply. "Listen carefully. I 
want you to put your hands on your heads then stand up straight and face the desk. Go on! 
Do it!"

  Dutifully and compliantly the two malefactors obeyed their instructions. Meanwhile, I 
joined Miss Pargeter and sat down by her side behind her desk. When they stood up the 
girls' nightgowns, unfortunately, fell down from over their backs to cover their naked bums, 
fannies and thighs. My consolation was that, as Margaret stood there with her hands on her 
head, the torn frontage of her nightgown fell forward, exposing her two deliciously firm, 
succulent, nubile boobies.

  The girls' faces were a picture. They were both blushing profusely and wincing. At the 
same time, Pamela looked very outraged and extremely angry. Unfortunately for the 
victims, however, they were not in control of the agenda. To add to their humiliation they 
had to take a further tongue-lashing from Miss Pargeter while at the same time they were 
denied the opportunity to rub and massage their stinging rears.

  The beak finished the victims off well with her final rollocking. Wow! I wonder what 
stung them the most: their slippered buttocks or their slapped down pride. "If you act like 
babies," thundered the beak at these two big strapping ladies, both of whom where of 
marriageable age and legally old enough to have babies themselves, "I will treat you like 
babies. I'll have your bottoms slapped for you as hard and as often as necessary until you 
start to behave yourselves like adults." And so on. The girls were forced to take another ten 
to fifteen minutes of this humiliating and insulting tongue-lashing before they were 
contemptuously dismissed.

  As Margaret turned to leave I spoke to her. "Could you wait outside for me, please, 
Margaret? Don't forget that I need to dress those wounds for you."

  Five minutes later Margaret and I were in my room, and I was getting out my emergency 
first aid kit. Since gymnastics is a more dangerous subject than most I had been routinely 
taught practical first aid as part of my teacher training, and I was now the school's first aid 
officer. I was challenged by Margaret's injuries, however. None of her wounds were very 
serious, but there were a lot of them, and it was going to take me a long time to dress and to 
deal with them all. I started with her face, where she had, among other damage, a deep and 
bloody scratch on her right cheek that looked rather like a newly inflicted duelling scar on 
the visage of a Prussian army officer. I stood close to Margaret, cupped both of my hands 
gently under her chin and carefully inspected the damage.

  I was shocked and taken aback by what happened next. Suddenly tears welled up in 
Margaret's eyes, her face crumpled and she began to weep. As she did this she threw her 
arms about me in a passionate embrace, bent over me and buried her tear-stained face 
between my breasts. Then she started to sob, loudly and rhythmically.

  Now there are two things to stress at this point, dear reader. Firstly, when I am operating in 
teaching and/or in disciplinary mode, I like to be fully in control of the situation. At that 
moment, however, I was not. I was beset with the most violent and conflicting emotions, 
and I had no idea what to do. The second point you have almost certainly worked out for 
yourselves by now. I am a lady who is physically attracted to other ladies, often violently 
and passionately, as well as to men. Now I do not want to get too heavy about this. The tone 
of these memoirs is meant to be light-hearted and amusing, and I do not wish to introduce 
themes that are seriously or potentially tragic. Suffice it to say that at that stage of my 
career, before Dave and I had got it together, I was in a very vulnerable position and I could 
easily have fallen into deep professional danger. I had no partner, male or female, and my 
sexual frustration was intense. My job and my career could so easily have been put into 
jeopardy by any one of a number of beautiful girls. In short, much as I enjoyed slippering 
my young ladies across their bottoms, I also wanted to take them to bed and to make love to 
them. And now here was the incomparable Margaret Bushnell, a young lady for whom I had 
the sharpest of sexual desires, throwing herself at me. You can well imagine, dear reader, 
the turmoil I was in. I was flattered, sexually excited and terrified of the possible 
professional consequences in almost equal measures.

  The offer having been made, however, I could not help myself, and I returned Margaret's 
hug with passionate fervour. Then she spoke, brokenly, through her sobs. She said that she 
had been frightened and badly shaken by Pamela's assault, and she thanked me for warning 
Pamela off from further bullying with such a sharp and punitive slippering. She apologised 
that she was no fighter, that she could not look after herself, and that she had had to rely on 
me to fight her battles for her. And then she told me that she was in love with me.

  At this profession my spine tingled and the hairs seemed to stand up on my head as if 
electrified. Driven on by my instinct for self-preservation, I tried to cool things down. "But 
Margaret", I replied, "You must hate me after what I have just done to you." Despite my 
best efforts at self control, I uttered these words so tenderly and affectionately, and I 
continued to embrace my newly acquired paramour so passionately, that she was left in 
absolutely no doubt about my real feelings for her. "Oh, no!" she replied lovingly. "I was 
miffed at the time but, after all, it was only a few slaps across the bum, and I richly 
deserved every one of them."

  Meanwhile, my heart was pounding, my head was spinning, and bright red warning lights 
were flashing in my skull. "No, no," I thought to myself. "Don't let this happen. Keep 
talking. You must leave this." But all too late! Margaret raised her head from my bosom, 
and, still with her arms snugly and intimately entwined around my waist, she gazed at me 
longingly and wistfully with her big, brown, tear-stained eyes. Then she kissed me, 
passionately, with her lips apart, full onto my mouth.

  Oh, dear reader, I was trying so hard to be good. I realised that I was professionally and 
sexually compromised and that I should extricate myself from Margaret's delicious but 
illicit embrace. But oh, forgive me, God! My new lover was so beautiful, and so vulnerable! 
She was offering herself to me so openly and so generously, and at that moment I needed 
her love so desperately! By now my heart was knocking mercilessly against my rib cage, my 
head was spinning, and my knees had turned to jelly. "Oh, Margaret," I murmured gently. 
And only the eloquence of the Bard of Avon seemed adequate to reveal the secrets of my 
heart: "A fiend like thee," I sighed, "might bear my soul to hell."

  Now I realise, dear reader, that all this is scarcely relevant to my main purpose of 
revealing my disciplinary exploits. On the other hand, I thought that it might help to explain 
my disciplinary career, and my relationship with Dave. Without him I dread to think what 
would have become of me. Even if I had managed to avoid charges of sexual misconduct, I 
would probably have lived out my life as a spinster, "chanting cold hymns to the pale 
fruitless moon." That could so easily have happened in my line of work, especially when for 
most of my life I was incarcerated within the secure walls of an all female academy. And 
oh, how I longed to avoid that fate! For all her crustiness and strictness, Miss Pargeter, the 
headmistress, was a good and a kindly old stick and I liked her. But she had grown old 
lonely and alone, and I did not want that to happen to me. No. I wanted a husband, and I 
wanted children, and Dave has given me both of these things. Very early in our relationship, 
and long before the time of our first joint spanking venture (see "Skool Dayz") I had fallen 
in love with Dave. Then I tested him out, and I was delighted to discover that when young 
ladies get their bottoms smacked it turns him on just as violently as it excites me. That has 
been one of the bedrocks of our blissfully happy marriage. I sublimate my sexual desires for 
young ladies by smacking their bottoms for them, and then Dave and I get our rocks off by 
discussing and analysing my disciplinary exploits during our lovemaking.

  But yet again I digress, dear reader. Let me briefly conclude my already over-long tale. 
And let me promise you in advance that the next story in these memoirs will be a lot less 
heavy and a lot more relevant to my main purpose. 

  After Margaret had given me that fervent French kiss I was no longer in control of my 
emotions. I returned her kiss with passionate intensity and soon our two tongues were 
entwined in wet and delicious union. My sharp and passionate desires now completely 
overpowered my professional fears and, deliberately falling backwards, I pulled Margaret 
down onto the bed on top of me. Ten minutes later we were both naked and locked into a 
joyful and ecstatic union. It was a long time before Margaret returned to her dormitory, and 
when she got there questions were asked. That was as far as it went, however. As for me I 
walked around in a cold sweat for several days before I realised that, mercifully, I had got 
away with my peccadillo. The main problem for the rest of that academic year was that I 
was from time to time required to smack the bottom of a young lady with whom I was in 
love. But, dear reader, knowing me as you now do, you can probably work out that I really 
quite enjoyed that!


 

 
 
