{ASSTR 01 Second Revised Version} Schoolgirl 
Slap Down {Big Billie} (F/ffffff spank nc)

Schoolgirl Slap Down

A Sally Trubshawe Henderson Story

By Big Billie

© Big Billie 2008. 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.

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Author’s Prologue

This is the first of my spanking stories to be 
posted on ASSTR. From a very young age the 
spanking of females has excited me. I remember a 
conversation when I was in Infant School and 
about 7 or 8 years old. One of the girls in my 
class told me that a woman who taught the older 
girls would pull their knickers down and smack 
their bare bottoms. Her older sister, she 
claimed, had suffered this very indignity, and 
her father had come into school to complain 
about it. “What did he say?” I asked, appalled 
but also fascinated. The little girl seemed to 
be as sexually stimulated as I was. “He said” 
(delightful girlish giggle) “why did you pull 
her knickers down and smack her bare bum?” Well, 
young as I was, the thought of a big 11-year-old 
girl in Primary School being punished like that 
really turned me on.

A few years later, when I myself was at Primary 
School, I learnt what I had already suspected; 
the teacher in question did not actually take 
down girls’ knickers. But she was very fond of 
pulling up their dresses and knicker legs and 
slapping them on the backs of their bare thighs. 
Many of these spankings occurred in the 
playground, in full view of the whole school, 
and they seemed to be inflicted for the 
slightest reason. She used to punish the boys in 
a similar fashion, but luckily she was never my 
class teacher and I managed to avoid her 
chastisement.

At the age of 11 I went to an all boys grammar 
school, and had no further direct experience of 
the disciplining of schoolgirls. One of my 
friends, however, stayed on at secondary modern, 
and he gave me graphic accounts of how the lads 
in the boys’ school were disciplined. Sometimes 
it was a cane on the hand, but the punishment 
that he and his fellow pupils disliked most was 
the slipper. One disciplinarian in particular, 
he told me, was his class teacher for 2 
consecutive years, and he used to spank 
miscreants with large, thin, light, floppy gym 
pump from the age of 11 until they left school 
at 15. And the older and the bigger they were, 
the sharper they caught it. “At first it was 
usually 4, and occasionally 6; but now it is 
always 6, and usually 8.” Then my friend 
described the disciplinarian’s _modus operandi_: 
“He’ll give you one. Then he’ll just give it 
enough time to tingle. Then he’ll give you 
another. And so it goes on.” My friend said that 
he preferred the cane across the hand, even 
though it was very painful. “You feel such a 
fool having to bend over, and then when you rub 
your arse afterwards.”

“Don’t rub it?” I enquired tentatively.

“Ah,” he replied ruefully. “But it hurts.”

I sympathised with my friend. I wished that he 
did not have to endure such treatment, and I was 
very grateful that such regular, everyday 
physical punishment was not inflicted on me; but 
I found the prospect of young ladies taking 
spankings like that very stimulating.

When I was just 16 I read a letter in a local 
paper. I can still, all these years later, 
recall it word for word. The headline was 
“Spanked at Seventeen” and the letter ran as 
follows:

“Sir,

I am a 17-year-old shorthand typist, and when I 
misbehave my mother puts me across her knee and 
spanks me with a slipper.

Apart from the pain involved I find this 
humiliating, as I feel I am far too old to be 
treated like this.

None of my friends receives spankings, and I 
would like to know if any other of your teenaged 
readers are ever punished in this way.”

The letter was signed “Shorthand Typist.”

Now, even at the time I realised that all of 
this was probably written by some dirty old 
pervert who was hoping to get his rocks off from 
the responses. But, even so, I found it 
incredibly exciting. Indeed, all through my 
life, the spanking of females has held me 
enthralled for reasons that I am completely 
unable to rationalise or explain.

My dear ASSTR readers, I hope that at least some 
of you share my sexual proclivities, and that 
you enjoy my stories.

Comments and emails are, of course, always 
welcome.

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Story

I first met my wife, Sally Trubshawe, as she 
then was, in the late 1960s. She was teaching 
gymnastics and geography at a small but select 
girls' boarding school in the southern counties 
of England. I was at that time a uniformed 
policeman. In fact, I was the village beat 
bobby. We met at the local squash club and I was 
immediately attracted to her. She was petite, 
dark, fit, sporty and very sexy. Luckily for me 
there were no other lady players as good as her 
so she used to play against some of the men. I 
played against her as often as I could, and I 
always tried to buy her a drink and to chat her 
up afterwards. Although I usually managed to win 
our games, it was obvious that she was a much 
better player as a woman than I was as a man. 
This, for me, added to her charms, but I was 
always very gauche with ladies, and I was too 
dim to see that she fancied me as much as I 
fancied her.

Now, as you can imagine, we did not get much 
trouble from the girls’ school. A lot of the 
girls were from rich families, and some of the 
older ones owned their own motorcars. There was 
thus the odd incident of illegal parking or 
speeding but this was always dealt with 
informally via a quiet word with the 
headmistress.

Now, however, six of the girls had been caught 
drinking under age (they were 16 and 17) in the 
village pub. I myself took a lenient view of 
this, and would have let it pass with the usual 
quiet word to the headmistress. But I could not 
do that since one of the local JPs, who had been 
in the pub at the time, had complained and had 
identified the culprits. It was only with the 
greatest difficulty that the headmistress had 
prevailed upon the complainant to allow her to 
deal with the matter internally, and even then 
he had insisted that, in addition, I should go 
along, in full regalia, to put the frighteners 
on. He also gave me strict orders that I was to 
give him a full report afterwards on the 
disciplinary measures which had been taken.

I arrived at the headmistress's study to find 
six young ladies already lined up outside it. 
When I entered I discovered that the 
headmistress was not alone. She had Sally with 
her. Miss Trubshawe, said the headmistress, was 
the Dean of Discipline and she would be dealing 
with the miscreants. The headmistress then left, 
adding as she went that she hoped that the 
action which Sally would be taking met with my 
approval.

When we were on our own, Sally asked me to sit 
behind the headmistress's desk and to look very 
imposing and judicial. I did this, putting my 
bobby's helmet on the end of the table for added 
effect. Sally then sat down beside me and 
explained what she intended to do. She would, 
she said, haul the offenders in separately, one 
at a time. Sally would then interrogate them and 
ball them out, calling on me for moral and 
verbal support. Each girl, said Sally, would 
then be disciplined. She did not explain what 
she meant by this, but, as you can imagine, my 
interest was immediately aroused! 

Sally then called in the first victim. Her name 
was Linda Brown. Linda, as I was later to 
discover, was the stuff of which Sally's 
disciplinary fantasies are made. She was big, 
tall, meaty and strapping. She had long straight 
dark brown hair and a pear-shaped figure. Even 
through her school uniform I could see that her 
breasts were fairly small, but firm, pert and 
sexy.  Although much of Linda's other charms was 
not as yet revealed to me I could also observe 
through her clothing that her waist was trim, 
and that her broad hips tapered out from it 
beautifully.

Sally made Linda stand on a small red mat in 
front of the desk at which I was sitting. Then 
she started questioning her about her 
misdemeanour. She asked whether Linda was aware 
that visits to pubs were strictly forbidden by 
both the school rules and the law. She asked her 
if she knew what the legal penalties were.

Linda stuttered and stumbled over her answers, 
and blushed a deep red right to the roots of her 
hair.

Then Sally asked me whether I intended to haul 
Linda up before the magistrates.

I, of course, really hammed it up as previously 
requested. I stressed the serious nature of the 
offence and, in great detail, the severity of 
the legal penalties. I said that I would 
probably have to bring charges because I would 
get into trouble myself if I did not. I knew, I 
added in a sober tone of voice, just how 
seriously the JPs viewed this sort of thing.

Sally then turned to Linda and asked her if she 
had anything to say in her defence.

Linda, still blushing profusely, shook her head.

“Well, Linda”, said Sally. “I will tell you what 
I intend to do. You have flagrantly violated 
school rules. You clearly have to be punished 
for that, and I intend to carry out that 
punishment now. I am asking PC Henderson to 
witness it. When it is over, I will ask him 
whether, in the light of what he has seen, he is 
prepared to exercise discretion and let you off. 
And I very much hope, for your sake and the sake 
of the school's good name, that he is lenient 
and that he is prepared to consider that the 
discipline that I have given you is sufficient. 
But enough talk. Please fetch me my slipper. It 
is on the window sill behind you.”

This was the very first hint that I had been 
given about what Sally was going to do. As Linda 
dutifully turned to do as she was bid, I eyed up 
her figure admiringly, slipped my hand into my 
pocket and gently started to rub my willie 
through my trousers. Willie himself, 
understandably in the circumstances, was already 
beginning to stiffen up as Linda collected the 
large gentleman's plimsoll as instructed, and 
handed it to Sally.

“Stand on the red mat again, please. Now, face 
the window, straighten your legs and touch your 
toes.”

I was completely stunned by what happened next. 
Linda turned through 180 degrees to face the 
window, which was directly opposite my desk. She 
bent over obediently as ordered. Sally then rose 
from her seat and positioned herself at Linda's 
side adjacent to her bottom. Next Sally put down 
the slipper on the desk, took the hem of Linda's 
gymslip between the thumbs and forefingers of 
both hands, and lifted it over her back.

Linda's beknickered bottom was thus revealed to 
me. It was excellently positioned, full on, for 
me to get a perfect view of it. Linda was 
wearing bottle green gym knickers. They were 
stretched tightly over her bottom in the most 
sexy and revealing fashion. Linda's bare thighs, 
I noted, were long, meaty and nubile, and her 
calves were beautifully shapely. Then, as my 
cock stood rock hard in my underpants at these 
salacious developments, Sally administered her 
coup de grace. She slipped her two forefingers 
under the waist elastic of Linda's knickers at 
her two hipbones, and pulled outwards and 
downwards. The result was that Linda's knickers 
ended up around her knees and her completely 
bare bottom was revealed to my excited gaze.

As you can imagine, I was utterly stunned by the 
sight before my eyes. There, gazing past the 
crotch between the two cheeks of Linda's bottom, 
I had a clear view of two plump hairy labial 
lips with the cunt slit between them. The pubic 
hair was thick, black and curly and sprouted 
downward and outwards from the rear of the 
pussy, forming a bushy little ball hanging 
beneath and between the two big, meaty, pear 
shaped buttocks.

But that was not all. As Linda bent and 
stretched forward her plump, meaty outer labia 
were pushed together and apart. They pouted ever 
so slightly open to reveal a thin, serrated 
vertical line of delicate coral pink pussy skin 
on the inside edges of her cunt lips.

To use one of Sally's Cheshire expressions, my 
eyes stood out like chapel hat pegs as I leered 
lasciviously at the victim's naked rump and 
pussy. I could not believe my luck, and I very 
nearly ejaculated into my underpants there and 
then. But, for the moment, I merely kept my 
right hand in my trouser pocket and gently 
rubbed and massaged my cock which by now was 
throbbing hard, and as stiff as a poker. 

The first thing that Sally did was to make sure 
that Linda was bending over to her satisfaction. 
Sally's favourite part of the female anatomy, as 
I believe she has told you, is the plump sexy 
cunt meat where a young lady's bum curves round 
to her pussy crack. Just above the tops of the 
thighs, where the rump is beautifully tender and 
meaty, and just above the back of the pussy 
hairs, between bum hole and cunt, is where she 
likes her slipper to slap home. She herself 
refers to the target area as the soft 
undercarriage, and tells me that she likes to 
line up her slipper and takes aim with the 
underside of her slipper sole against the top 
edge of the bushy furball of pubic hair that 
sprouts from between the buttocks. I believe 
that you Americans refer to this piece of the 
feminine anatomy as the “taint” since “it ain’t 
yer pussy and it ain’t her ass” but the sexy 
little patch of skin with the asshole to the 
north, the pussy to the south and the left and 
right bum cheeks to the east and west 
respectively.

Well, unfortunately for Linda, it was now the 
turn of the bum cheeks to the east and west of 
_her_ “taint,” for _her_ hairy pussy meat, to be 
the epicentre of Sally's sexy assault. She 
started with some wicked little tail flicks, as 
she usually does.

Crack!

“Come on, girl. Stretch and bend. Your can do 
better than that.” Sally sharply flicked the 
slipper across her victim's bum, just above her 
cunt meat, to encourage her to bend over 
further. Linda's buttocks shuddered 
provocatively and, after a few seconds, the sexy 
pink imprint of Sally's slipper appeared, 
clearly visible across her bare bum.

Linda had been flicked with the pump much as a 
skittish filly is slapped with a riding crop, 
and it was clear that she disliked it intensely. 
She pushed her fingers towards her toes, 
sweating and straining to avoid a second slap.

But all in vain!

Crack!!

“No! Now pay attention and listen to me. I want 
you to bend over further. Go on! Bend and 
stretch! Or else! You know that is just not good 
enough.”

This time the flick was to exactly the same part 
of the bum, just above the pussy hairs. It was 
also just that little bit harder. Linda's bare 
bottom wobbled again in the most sexy and 
alluring fashion, and a second pink mark was 
imprinted more or less exactly on top of the 
first one.

The victim drew her breath in sharply at the 
force of the blow and then started grunting and 
panting as she strained madly to comply with her 
tormentor's instructions.

Sally, for her part, put her hand on the back of 
Linda's neck and gently pushed it downwards.

I must admit that I felt rather sorry for Linda. 
She clearly hated these infuriating and 
humiliating little smacks. What she did not want 
to take, more than anything else in the world at 
that moment, was another one of them.

But take another one she did, and again it was 
exactly where she least wanted to take it.

Crack!!!

This third flick, in its turn, was just that 
little bit sharper and sexier than flick number 
two. Wobble, sting, tingle went Linda's big, 
sexy, meaty bottom.

By now a note of exasperation was creeping into 
Sally's voice. “Linda! Are you being 
deliberately disobedient? You are beginning to 
annoy me!”

Poor Linda. She did not want to take any more of 
those flicks, and in her determination to avoid 
that fate she gasped and grunted as she 
stretched and pushed her fingers to the floor.

By now Sally could hardly claim that Linda was 
not at least _trying_ to bend over to the best 
of her ability. But, unfortunately for the 
victim, she was caught out on another rap.

Crack!!!!

“Right, madam. Now you have really annoyed me. 
How dare you bend your knees when you have been 
specifically told to keep your legs straight! If 
you do not shape up pronto you will regret it. 
You can have this either the hard or the easy 
way.”

The fourth slap that preceded these remarks was 
a really mean and spiteful one. It rang out like 
a pistol shot. The victim's buttocks shuddered 
invitingly.

Wow! What would I not have given, there and 
then, to have shoved my stiff, throbbing cock 
just below and between those two pink, tingling, 
meaty buttocks and into Linda's hairy cunt slot!

This time the slap was a lot harder than the 
previous three. Linda was clearly shocked at its 
force, and she let out a sharp cry. “Ouch!”

“Well”, concluded Sally. “That still isn't good 
enough. I might just be persuaded to let you off 
if you hold it there, young lady, but at the 
least sign of relaxation I'll dish out something 
for you to really remember me by. This is your 
last warning. The slightest let up, madam, and 
you will catch it hard. By God, but I will give 
you something to make you feel sorry for 
yourself and no mistake!”

In response to these words Linda continued to 
grunt, sweat and strain to touch the floor while 
flexing and tightening the muscles in her calves 
and thighs to keep her legs as stiff and 
straight as she possibly could. The effect of 
all this, as you can imagine, was to highlight 
and emphasise the shapeliness of her legs 
beautifully. Her shapely calves were tensed and 
taut, and the muscles and tendons in her long 
meaty thighs were pulled tight to display 
perfectly the two delicate hollows on the inside 
of each of her thighs, where they rose to meet 
her vulva. Wow! I was stunned!

As you can imagine, dear reader, the 
consequences of all this for my poor old willie 
were devastating: the kinky verbals; the big, 
strapping, sexy lady with her bare bum and her 
hairy cunt slot embarrassingly displayed to my 
enraptured gaze; the sharp slaps across the 
lady's bare bottom; the loud, high pitched crack 
of slipper onto naked, unprotected cunt meat; 
the quivering buttocks; the red marks across the 
back of the victim's pussy; the embarrassment, 
frustration, anger and distress of the young 
lady herself; the bold, saucy and uncompromising 
performance of Sally; all these drove me into 
paroxysms of sexual ecstasy, and it took all my 
self control to prevent myself from coming off.

Meanwhile, I was paying the price for my 
unnatural self-restraint as I began to feel a 
dull, throbbing ache in my bollocks, which I 
knew could only ultimately be relieved by the 
explosive pleasure of orgasm.

And then the stunning truth hit me. This was not 
the end of Linda's chastisement. It was scarcely 
even the beginning!

“Right,” said Sally. “Provided that you have now 
learned your lesson and are prepared to stop 
being insolent, we can begin!”

Before the fun started in earnest, however, 
Sally delivered a short sharp lecture, to 
Linda's bottom rather than to her face, on the 
evils of drink, the behaviour befitting a young 
lady, the seriousness of bringing into disrepute 
the traditions and high reputation of the 
school, etc., etc.

Then she stressed the illegality of Linda's 
offence, and of how much damage it would do to 
the school's reputation if the incident got into 
the magistrate's court and thence into the 
press.

“For your own good, and for the good of the 
school, Linda” she concluded, “I must do my best 
to stop that from happening. I only hope that by 
this punishment, and through my personal 
entreaties, I can persuade P.C. Henderson to 
risk a reprimand from his superior officer by 
letting you off.”

Meanwhile, throughout this diatribe Linda 
continued to sweat, strain and grunt in order to 
bend over as far as she possibly could, fearful 
that the least relaxation on her part would 
trigger the dire consequences with which Sally 
had threatened her.

Sally then lined up her slipper just above the 
back of Linda's cunt, pressing the sole into the 
bare meat as she took careful aim. Next she drew 
back her arm in a wide arc, pulling her slipper 
a foot or two below my face and over to my left.

Then, suddenly, round came her arm in a swift, 
sharp movement.

The slipper whizzed up from a position a yard or 
so in front of my left knee. Then it whistled a 
foot or two underneath and in front of the end 
of my nose as I leant forward over the desk as 
far as I could to get a good view. I distinctly 
felt the breeze across my face as it as it did 
so. Then, a split second later, it hit home.

Crack!!!!!!

The flat face of Sally's slipper landed flush, 
full across the plump, nubile pussy meat of 
Linda's bare buttocks.

This was the first time that I had witnessed 
Sally's slippering of a young lady, and I had no 
idea that she was going to smack her so hard. I 
was stunned, shocked and outraged at the force 
of the blow.

Indeed, as a chivalrous and courteous gentleman 
who had always treated young ladies with 
politeness and respect, it made me very angry to 
see a beautiful teenaged girl treated in such an 
undignified, brusque and cavalier fashion. 
Suddenly, I felt a great wave of sympathy for 
the victim sweep over me, together with an 
extremely powerful sexual arousal.

“Oh you cow!” I thought of Sally. “You vicious, 
vindictive cow! Wow, oh wow! I bet that didn't 
half sting!”

And all the time my cock got harder and harder 
and my balls ached excruciatingly at the 
riveting and kinky plight of the unfortunate 
Linda.

My outraged sense of injustice was heightened by 
the sharpness of the crack that rang out as the 
pump hit home. I had not been expecting it and 
it came as a big shock. It jolted me out of my 
pleasant sexual reveries and made my heart leap 
under my rib cage.

It startled Linda too. “Oh!” She gasped as she 
let out an involuntary cry at the unexpectedly 
sharp and sudden sting that Sally had 
administered to her plump and shapely derrière.

As the crack rang out, Linda's buttocks wobbled 
and shuddered provocatively.

Then Sally, in that crafty, wicked way of hers, 
waited about four seconds for Linda to fully 
feel it. As she did so, I was stunned to see the 
red outline of her slipper emerge, clearly 
imprinted across the back of Linda's pussy.

Linda had, of course, already been reddened by 
Sally's preparatory spanks. But this time the 
slipper really bit into her arse, leaving a red 
mark so well defined that it might have been 
branded onto her rump with a hot iron.

“Aw, aw, aw, aw, aw!” moaned Linda, clearly 
shocked and taken aback by the sharpness of the 
spank and the escalating tingling.

“Oh, you spiteful, venomous bitch” I thought, 
outraged but very, very sexually excited. “You 
shrewd, wily old she-cat! You know just how to 
catch a young lady bending! My God, but you're 
so damned skilful! Don't you know just exactly 
how to tease, torment and humiliate a big, 
strapping, nubile, teenaged lady! Wow! Go on 
then! Chasten her well! Vex, enrage and madden 
her you bold, saucy, kinky madam!”

And all the time I gently rubbed my cock through 
my trouser pocket and teetered agonisingly on 
the brink of orgasm, with my bollocks aching as 
if someone had given them six hard cuts with a 
cane.

Then Sally intruded again on my outraged 
thoughts. Just as the tingling from the first 
slap reached its crescendo Sally dished out slap 
number two.

Crack!!!!!!

The slap rang out yet again like a pistol shot. 
Linda took it, right across the back of the 
pussy hairs again, onto exactly the same piece 
of arse that was already tingling, and it was 
clear that she did not like it at all.

“Huh!” She breathed in sharply through her 
teeth. “Uuuugh!”--this somewhere between a cry 
of pain and a mutter of anger.

Then, as Linda waited in trepidation for the 
third spank, and began to feel spank number two 
reach its sizzling climax, she started to emit a 
series of low, urgent grunts.

“Ngh! Ngh!! Ngh!!!”

Crack!!!!!! Sally cut across Linda's 
interjections and made her bottom sting and 
quiver to a third well-aimed slap.

And so it went on, in a clever and well executed 
escalation, until Linda had taken a full twelve 
of the best. God, but did Sally slap her arse 
for her!

The whacks all landed in the time-honoured 
places. First came the three slaps across the 
back of the pussy hairs. These were followed by 
six aimed higher, _ad lib_ at the rest of the 
bum. Then came the last three smacks, right 
where the first three and, before them, the four 
preparatory smacks had landed—right on the most 
succulent, nubile and disciplinarily challenged 
piece of Linda’s arse, the piece where the 
stinging and tingling inflicted by Sally’s 
slipper were at their most intense, namely 
across the back of her “taint” just above her 
twat.

Not that I took in all these subtleties at the 
time. By now I was in a catatonic state, and 
time seemed to be standing still. I heard the 
sexy cracks from the pump ringing out like rifle 
shots but somehow far away and distant. Then, 
after each hit, I watched entranced as the big 
bare bottom shuddered, wobbled and quivered, 
seemingly in glorious slow motion, like a slowed 
down action re-play on _Match of the Day_. It 
was only when Sally ran through the events of 
the afternoon with me later that I got to know 
exactly what her game plan was, and the precise 
disciplinary principles which were being 
employed.

Even I got the point about the last three 
spanks, however. They slapped against the arse 
right where the meat was plumpest, just above 
Linda’s thick, black, luxuriant minge fur. They 
were also just slightly harder than the other 
nine smacks and they built up to an orgasmic 
crescendo.

The victim's pussy hairs were scattered every 
which way by the breeze from the pump and her 
big, meaty bottom was made to dance a jig.

As for Linda, she continued to contribute 
further sexy and embarrassing verbals of her 
own.

“Ngh!!! Ah!!! Ooooh!!! Aw!!! Aw!!! Aw!!!! 
Aw!!!!! Aw!!!!!!” she cried out helplessly.

Wow, but Linda's rump was well reddened! God, I 
bet it didn't half sting! The twelfth and final 
spank was a real beauty. It cracked home onto 
reddened meat that must have already been 
stinging and ringing like a bell. 

Crack!!!!!!

“Ouch!!!!!!!!” yelled the victim, this time very 
loudly--much louder, indeed, than any of her 
previous interjections.

This time I don't know what it was. Perhaps it 
was the indelicate and saucy way that the 
victim's minge fur was scattered and rearranged. 
Wow, but did her pussy hairs fly! Or perhaps it 
was the pert and delicious fashion in which her 
buttocks shuddered. Or perhaps it was the loud, 
unladylike and indelicate urgency of the 
expletive that she uttered. But whatever it was, 
it brought me off.

In my ecstasy, I screamed silently to myself: 
“Oh, you titillating bitch! You crafty, knowing 
vixen! Oh, that is wicked! Wicked! That is so 
sexy it should be illegal! And I bet you know 
just what you’re doing to me, just like you know 
just what you are doing to Linda. Oh, my aching 
balls! Oh, my throbbing gonads! Mercy! Mercy! 
Oh, you remorseless cow! You cruel, pitiless 
tormenting hag! You are driving me beyond 
endurance! I cannot bear it any more! Relief!! 
Relief!!!”

By now, as you may well have gathered, dear 
reader, I was utterly out of control. Through my 
trouser pocket I gave just one very light flick 
with my forefinger to the tip of my prick. That 
did it. Before I knew what was happening, my 
heart and my entire central nervous system 
seemed to explode with the most shattering and 
ecstatic pleasure. I breathed in sharply, and as 
silently as I could, delirious at my sudden 
release from the most oppressive and painful 
frustration. Then, before I knew what was 
happening, I was rhythmically ejaculating into 
my underpants. Within the next 10 to 15 seconds 
it seemed to me that I must have pumped out 
between one and two pints of thick, creamy 
semen.

While I was still ejaculating Sally brusquely 
tugged up Linda's knickers and pulled down her 
skirt.

“Right!” she rapped. “Now get out and wait in 
the corridor with the others until you are 
called back in to hear your fate.”

As Linda left, I vainly tried to compose myself. 
I stopped caressing my willie and pulled my hand 
from my trouser pocket. As I did so, I breathed 
out a long, tormented sigh.

Then I noticed something else that thus far, in 
the excitement of the moment, I had missed. The 
central heating system was on and the 
headmistress's study was very warm. I was in my 
full PC's regalia, including my heavy-duty 
tunic, and by now I was very hot and sweaty. My 
balls, my inner and upper thighs, and the lower 
part of my buttocks and tummy were covered in 
thick, sticky spunk. But that was not my only 
problem. I was perspiring profusely from my 
armpits, and I could feel two large patches of 
wet sweat underneath the arms of my shirt. By 
now great beads of perspiration were also 
standing out on my forehead. Just as Linda 
opened the door and left, three or four of these 
beads cascaded down over my forehead and onto my 
face. One of them trickled along my nose and 
entered my mouth, where I tasted its wet 
saltiness.

Still in a daze, I fumbled in my tunic pocket 
for my handkerchief and dabbed and mopped at my 
brow, only wishing, as I did so, that I could 
also mop my crotch dry. Phew! Sally was really 
putting me through it as well as the girls! And 
she was still being utterly merciless with me. 
She refused to give me so much as a second to 
compose myself. Before Linda had a chance to get 
through the door, and while my loins were still 
shaking to the last few jerks of my orgasm, she 
summoned in the next victim.

After the girls had all taken the rap, and had 
been ordered to wait in the corridor to hear 
their final fate, Sally pertly popped her 
spanking slipper into her brief case, turned to 
me and grinned broadly.

“Can I offer you a cup of tea?” she asked 
pleasantly.

“Had we best not see this through first?” I 
asked, anxiously and in some trepidation.

“Oh, good Lord, no! There is no rush, and you 
have earned a break. Besides, it will do them 
good to be made to sweat a bit” answered Sally 
airily.

In fact it was between 20 and 30 minutes later 
when the offenders were summoned in for my 
verdict.

Before she went to get them, Sally turned to me. 
“Do not let them know their fate too quickly”, 
she urged. “Have some fun with them first. Tease 
and torment them. Give them a good long lecture, 
and keep the punch line until right at the end. 
Do not grant your pardon cheaply or easily. Keep 
them on the hop and make them sweat. Make them 
think that they are for the high jump, that they 
are really going to catch it from the law. Then 
when you grant them your mercy do it reluctantly 
and grudgingly.”

“Okay” I replied. “I'll do my best.”

Meanwhile, I was thinking to myself, this lady 
is just as skilful a dominatrix with her tongue 
as she is with her slipper.

Indeed, I managed to play my part even better 
than that. Sally lined up the six miscreants in 
front of me and asked me for my verdict. I was 
enjoying myself, so I took my time. I tried to 
keep an inscrutable expression on my face as I 
eyed the victims up in a leisurely fashion.

I could not fully work them out. By now their 
rumps had largely recovered from their recent 
saucy trip-hammerings. In the words of an old 
Gracie Fields number, the six of them must have 
been “very sore in a certain place.” But the 
sharp tingling had clearly died down and their 
bums were by now no longer ringing like bells. 
They thus looked relieved and rather more 
cheerful than they had done before their 
spankings, and seemed glad that the worst of 
their ordeal was over. On some of their faces 
there was also a look of indignation at the 
humiliating and saucy way that they had been 
stripped and smacked. But the overriding emotion 
that I sensed was one of apprehension that they 
might soon be the owners of criminal records as 
well as of well-smacked bottoms.

“Right”, I thought to myself. “I'll work on 
that. Let's start to wind them all up a bit.”

“Well,” I said, “Miss Trubshawe tells me that as 
far as the school is concerned that is the end 
of the matter. I am sure that you will all be 
relieved to hear that. But I am afraid that the 
criminal offence may be too serious to be atoned 
for so easily.”

Then, for the sake of effect, I began to lie in 
my teeth. “You know,” I mused, “You girls are 
all very lucky to attend such an excellent and 
exclusive school. You are getting a first rate 
education in a safe and protective environment. 
Some of you may feel that Miss Trubshawe has 
been strict with you today. But let me assure 
you that she most certainly has not. Anyone can 
live down a little sting like that. Most of you, 
I see, seem to have got over it already. By the 
time you go to bed tonight you may even see the 
funny side and joke about it. Your privileged 
position has meant that you have all got off 
very lightly. And the fact that you are girls 
has meant that you have got off lighter still. 
At any boys' school you would have received at 
least six hard cuts with a cane. It would have 
bitten into your bottoms with deep, livid, 
purple ridges that would have lasted for more 
than a week. But all that you have got is a 
spanking with a flat, broad-soled slipper. You 
have been punished like naughty little girls, 
not like criminals. Oh yes! The school has let 
you off lightly--very lightly indeed. And that 
is something that you can thank Miss Trubshawe 
for. She has been lenient with you--lenient to a 
fault.”

Now, dear reader, I am well aware that this line 
of analysis was indeed a complete load of 
bollocks. The girls had, in fact, been very 
strictly, if amusingly and sexily, brought to 
book. Nothing that the magistrates could have 
done to them would have been anything like so 
sharp, so saucy and so humiliating.

But the punters swallowed my words hook, line 
and sinker. I could see by the looks of horror 
on their faces that I had really frightened the 
girls.

This gave me quite a sexual frisson. But it also 
made me feel a complete cad.

So I decided to cool it a little.

“Look, girls!” I said in a tone that was now 
friendly and helpful. “I don't want to see you 
hauled up before the magistrates and given a 
criminal record. But that, really, is what I 
ought to do with you. I don't think that I can 
risk jeopardising my career by just letting you 
off.”

Oh, dear! That blew it! Throughout their ordeal 
so far the girls had all behaved like bricks. 
Those spankings must have really stung. For a 
minute or two they must have been really hurt by 
them, even if it was in a funny and sexy way and 
in an amusing and saucy place.

And yet despite their sporadic grunts and cries 
of discomfort the girls had taken their 
chastisement bravely and stoically.

But now the threat of the law was too much. At 
my last remark, Susie broke down. Her face 
crumpled and collapsed in despair. She gave a 
huge gulp and tears began to stream down her 
face. Then she started sobbing helplessly and 
rhythmically.

I was mortified. Until that point I had been 
having a whale of a time. But now all my 
pleasure turned to dust. I realised that I had 
gone too far, and what I wanted to do more than 
anything else in the world was to make it all 
right again, for Susie and for the rest of the 
girls.

I motioned to the girls on each side to comfort 
Susie, and I gave her some time to compose 
herself.

“Look, girls,” I said, as kindly as I could. “I 
have to report back to the magistrate who 
brought the original complaint against you. He 
is a strict man, but he is also a very fair, a 
very chivalrous and a very kindly man. I'll have 
a word with him and see what I can do.”

“Please sir,” said Rachel, “What do you think he 
will do to us.”

“I can't say”, I replied. “I will do my best to 
get him to let you off. But he may want to throw 
the book at you. Or he may ask Miss Trubshawe, 
on behalf of the school, to administer further 
chastisement.”

I know that I should not have made that final 
quip but I found the prospect so stimulating 
that I could not resist. 

Anyway, after that things all went to plan. A 
few days later I called at the home of the 
magistrate, Major Carter.

As instructed, I gave him a full account of the 
chastisement that Sally had inflicted on the 
malefactors.

Well, almost a full account. I told him about 
the raising of the victims' gymslips. But I 
missed out the bit about the baring of their 
bottoms. Instead, I told him, admittedly in 
graphic detail, about how the girls had been 
chastised across the seats of their knickers.

There were two reasons for this.

Firstly, I wanted to protect Sally. The way that 
she had stripped her victims bare seemed to me 
to be saucy to the point of indecency, and I did 
not want to get her into trouble. So I took a 
risk, and went out on a limb for her. Actually, 
it could have been nasty. All it needed was for 
one of the girls' parents to complain, and for 
the complaint to come to the Major's ears.

The second reason that I lied was that old 
Carter was so thoroughly overexcited by the 
details which I _did_ divulge that it would have 
probably sent him into an apoplectic fit if he 
had heard the full story. During my narration 
the truth suddenly hit me. He knew, at least in 
general terms, what would happen to the girls. 
He had asked me to report back, and was asking 
constant and detailed questions as I did so, so 
that he could get his rocks off about it.

Anyway, the good news was that when he heard my 
harrowing account of the girls' distress at the 
prospect of criminal proceedings, and of the 
pitiful cries and tears of the distraught Susie, 
the Major relented. He was a dirty old man but 
also, as I had assured the girls, a very kind 
and chivalrous one.

A week to the day after their chastisement I was 
back in the headmistress's study with Sally.

This time, I did not tease the girls. As they 
were beckoned in they could immediately see from 
the happy expressions on my face and on Sally's 
face, that they were off the hook.

Susie's tears were now gone. Instead, when I 
verbally confirmed the good news, she jumped up 
and down in the air, screaming in delight. The 
other girls were also grinning broadly as they 
left, and embracing each other ecstatically.

But when we were on our own, I turned to Sally 
with a wistful and crafty smile on my face.

“You know”, I said. “Those young ladies think 
that they got off very lightly. But they didn't, 
did they? Wow! I would rather take the fine, the 
three years’ probation and the criminal record 
than bend over and let you smack my bare bottom 
like you smacked theirs, my saucy, kinky, 
darling!”

“I _bet_ you would”, giggled Sally, and a smug, 
satisfied grin slowly spread over her face as 
she recalled the saucy and amusing details of 
her disciplinary triumph. “Almost anyone would. 
Except them, of course. Wow! You really suckered 
them with that `Miss Trubshawe was too lenient' 
line, didn't you!”

And we both grinned archly before breaking out 
into hearty laughter.	
