Tales of punished female bottoms
She could swear it felt like someone was trying to spank her, but there was no one there.
While the staff told her it was nonsense, privately, they wondered when old Lord Crompton would actually pass on, and leave the ladies alone.
How many times, Miss Jones, have I told you to check your letters and emails before sending them – your errors make me, and this business, look bad!
Another gallery post of a mix of unpublished archived images and some we have already seen, this time of one of my favourite go-to topics, naughty schoolgirls and their well-deserved canings, paddlings, slipperings and spankings.
The Girl next door. Gentle. Kind. Well-bred.
Whipped soundly by her father – and you get to watch!
Not that they know that, but the windows are such that you can see everything which is going on. The arrival, humphing and grumbling. The bringing of the belt. The scolding. The grudging stripping. The laying down, and of course, the actual belting.
Well worth investing in those binoculars to get a better view.
Esther had always been a hard-working pupil, getting good marks. She was rarely, if ever, in trouble. Just not the kind of girl you would expect to find breaking into a classroom, lying about it, and then answering back when sent to be punished.
So in the Headmaster’s office she adopts an unfamiliar, if perhaps heard of, stance. Forearms on the desk, bending from the waist, bottom out, feet wide apart.
The strap wallops into her bottom twelve times. Each one producing and adding to the burning sensation in her bottom.
But now at home, and her Father has something to say. Or more importantly, do.
No strapping at school goes by without at least a double-length spanking at home, right on the bare bottom.
Still sore from the Headmaster’s attention, Esther is dragged across his lap, skirt hauled up, knickers peeled down, and given what for.
He hasn’t had to do this before, not for this reason.
So he goes and goes and goes, until Esther is sobbing her soul out, her cheeks getting ever redder as she does so.
This is not a room any of the girls will visit if they have a choice, not even to lurk outside to see who comes out.
Because one thing, and one thing only, happens in this room – the Board of Education meets the Seat of Learning of each girl who is summoned to this dreadful place.
Three, four, five or six swats land, and then a voice calls “Next!”, and the next girl enters, as her predecessor leaves, frantically rubbing her sore little bottom.
And so they work down the line, as each new girl heads for the moment of impact, which will hopefully change her ways, at least for a while.
Girl spanking stories 