{ASSTR 03 r01} Exploits with a Gym Slipper {Big Billie} 
(F/fff spank nc, circ) 

Exploits with a Gym Slipper

Three More Sally Trubshawe Henderson Stories

By Big Billie

© Big Billie 2002. Not to be distributed or sold for monetary 
gain.

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



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, pussies 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 pussy, 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 pussies. 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 was not 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 circumcised cock. Then, after he had pulled off my 
panties, Dave would tickle my pussy 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 circumcised cock would then enter 
soft, yielding wet pussy. By now Dave's cock skin would be 
stretched as tight as a drum-skin on his stiffened penis 
shaft. This was partly because of his erection and partly 
because his cock has been circumcised very tightly; his 
foreskin and frenulum have been well chopped off, leaving him 
with virtually no surplus skin to slide up and down his cock 
shaft. Thus the shagging that I got was a brisk one, with 
plenty of friction in it. Wow, but I could really feel it! It 
was a bit like having a ride in a vintage motorcar before they 
invented pneumatic tyres and modern suspension. Or being 
spanked with a slipper across your bare bottom instead of 
taking it while wearing a wet suit or, say, a pair of gripper 
knickers and thick denim jeans. The climax to my narrative was 
almost always a shattering mutual orgasm, and, believe you me, 
afterwards I was never in any doubt but that I had been well 
and truly fucked. Oh, happy days! Not that we don't do it now 
of course and, since Dave's cock is still circumcised, I am 
glad to say that I get very much the same kind of deal!

  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 that 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 pussy was being slammed hard by 
Dave's stiff, circumcised cock. Their dry, unlubricated 
pussies 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 "on the bare"; and, 
of course, it was even better if I caught my victims while 
they were completely nude, or "as naked as a jaybird" as the 
Americans say. 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 bare 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 _décolleté_, 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 haircut neat and short into a style that showed 
off my bare neck and the long dangly earrings 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, who 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 light-hearted 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 pussy 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. Eight times the 
breeze from the pump, and the bare bum's wobble and recoil 
from its firm smacks, rearranged Linda's wet, thick, 
luxuriant pubic hair into new patterns around her pussy, 
crotch, lower buttocks and inner thighs. Wow, but did her 
cunt hairs fly! 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! Did I scatter and rearrange _her_ bushy blonde cunt 
hairs? Did I redden _her_ white, firm, plump bum flesh? Wow! 
You bet I did! In spades! 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. 
First I gave Harriet two across the pussy 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 circumcised cock and bent down my head. 
Then, very slowly and seductively, I began to suck his naked, 
exposed, pink cock head. In between doing this I administered 
a series of sharp, provocative little bites directly on to and 
all around his circumcision scar. Then I broke off the work 
with my mouth and instead let my fingers take over. I rubbed 
his glans and the underneath of his cock shaft. Dave, as I 
say, is very tightly circumcised and his frenulum has been 
completely chopped off. Nevertheless, I rubbed where it should 
have been, and I also sharply pinched and pulled at his scar 
tissue. Meanwhile, working up and down his stiffened shaft, I 
tweaked at the tight, taut, immobile cock skin.

  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, excited, circumcised cock, with its taut, 
immobile cock skin, into my wet dripping pussy from the rear. 
He shot a wad of semen into me almost immediately. Then, after 
that, he was still so excited that he kept on thrusting very, 
very hard. Ouch! Dave trip hammered my cunt with his tightened 
shaft, and rubbed up and down the walls of my vagina with 
great force and friction. Wow! I thought. If this goes on I 
will be sitting through the dinner party with a very sore 
pussy! Soon, however, my lubricating juices came to my aid. 
Within four or five minutes I had had about four or five 
gushing, 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 randy circumcised cock deserved to be cut 
as tight as a drum skin by the knife. And for this offence it 
deserves six cuts with the cane as well across its denuded 
shaft." 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 pussy 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 circumcised cock around his circumcision scar and he 
would tickle my pussy. 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 pussy 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 
pussy 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 pussy 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 and a bathing cap.

  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 hesitantly, to 
the middle of the room where I was standing, and reluctantly 
handed over to me the slipper, the instrument for her own 
chastisement. 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!"

  Meanwhile, Naomi waited for me, in trepidation and 
embarrassment, 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 still wearing her swimming cap and was 
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 pussy 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 pussy 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. As with all circumcised 
men, Dave's shaft skin and what is left of his frenulum are 
joined together all around their circumference by a long, 
ugly, livid circumcision scar. In this situation, I mused, 
Dave's cock by now would be so excited that the shaft skin, 
scar and frenulum would all be pulled as tight as a drum-skin 
over the full length of his stiffened shaft. All that he would 
need to do would be to place his naked, engorged cock head 
between Naomi's buttocks, then guide it gently to her cunt 
lips and push. Circumcision had desensitised his cock and 
calloused over his prick tip. As always, and as with all 
circumcised men, Dave's pleasure would be circumscribed. He 
would not enjoy the lascivious pleasures of Naomi's honey pot 
perfectly, and as nature intended. But, even so, the dirty old 
bugger would get far more ecstasy and bliss than any man has a 
right to on this side of Paradise! And how appropriate and 
religiously correct that such a sumptuous Jewish virgin should 
be deflowered by a cock that had been circumcised! 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 pussy to him. The idea riled 
me and made me jealous. "Wow, Naomi," I thought to myself. 
"Your arse and pussy 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!

  It all reminded me of my attitude to male circumcision. 
Men's foreskins, like Naomi's body, are things of beauty. They 
are free, luxuriant, and exquisitely designed and appointed 
for the giving and taking of pleasure. Those little folds of 
skin have an easy grace, an amplitude and a generosity about 
them. And yet uncircumcised men can be so brazen, arrogant, 
self-confident and, well, "cocky" about their sexuality. Oh 
yes! All too often they seem to think that they are God's gift 
to women! In a way, I suppose that they are. But it is still 
sexy, amusing and satisfying if they have been cut to size, 
and the snipping away of a double fold of intensely sensitive, 
nerve enriched cock skin measuring about 15 square inches is 
certainly good for openers. Then there is the resultant five 
inch scar, the dry, keratinised and desensitised prick tip, 
the skin and scar pulled tight as a drum-skin over the stiff 
and engorged shaft - in short the lost pleasure and the 
increased soreness and discomfort experienced by the 
circumcised man during intercourse. Yes, circumcision is "the 
most unkindest cut of all" in the words of the Bard, and also 
a most unfair and unjust one. In this respect it was similar 
to the spanks that Naomi was about to take, which would be all 
the harder because of her beauty. But on the other hand the 
circumcising of men and the spanking of Naomi had a number of 
other, more positive, things in common. For example, they were 
both very sexy and very amusing!

  But yet again I digress, and yet again you must accept my 
apologies. As you must be well aware by now, I, dear reader, 
am something of a sexual pervert, and the topics of spanking 
and circumcision both really turn me on. Anyway, back to 
business. 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 pussy 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 pussy 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 pussy 
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 pussy 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 pussy 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 pussy, 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 pussy 
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 pussy 
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 
pussy. 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 pussy 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. The bathing cap that encased her hair 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 pussy 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 pussy. My speculation reached the 
conclusion that the pussy 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 stiff circumcised cock was 
still rock hard, and mercilessly trip-hammering my pussy. 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 Hit

  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, déshabillé 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 pussy. 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 pussy 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 pussy 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 pussy 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 pussy 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 pussy 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 pussy 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 bottoms! 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 pussy 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 pussy 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 pussy hairs like the crack of a rifle. 
Wow! Her bum quivered, and her pussy 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 pussy 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 pussy. "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 pussy 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 pussy 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, pussies 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 "Schoolgirl Slap Down") 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!

 

 
 
