Stories

Peaches Club has, for a long time been asked to provide a page where enthusiasts of the spanking scene can publish their own stories for the enjoyment of others. This page will hopefully be updated regularly. If you would like to send your story to us, it MUST BE discipline related. We have no wish to publish "Sex stories" though they will be published if we feel that they are erotic, and discipline based.

New My Last Disciplinary Spanking, New
By Nicole Richards
This is a true spanking and I am an adult.

There is a Disciplinarian I know that lives a few hours from me. We talk online from time to time. One of the things we talked about is this project I have been working on. When we discussed it last Saturday night May 14th 2005. He asked me how it was going? I told Him there was something I needed to do that I just haven't gotten around to doing yet. He asked me if that wasn't ready to do over a month ago? I said: "Well, yes Sir!" At that point He said: "You need to get yourself down here young lady". I knew at that point I was in trouble. I wanted to know when He wanted me there. He replied: "Tomorrow of course!" I told him if He was going to give me a lecture he could do it on the phone and save me a drive. I was informed I was going to get a lecture alright but I would be over his knee when I got it. I Knew He wasn't joking so I told him I would be there around noon.

I got up early the next morning and made the long drive to his Office where I was instructed to meet Him. I arrived at about 11:45. He was sitting at His desk when I walked in. He told me to sit down so I took a chair that was in front of his desk. I will have to admit I was a little nervous as I looked at him finishing up something he was working on. Just then he looked up at me with a stern look on his face. He said: "I see you made it young lady". I started to answer but was cut off. "Here is what I want you to do". I just said: "Yes sir". He handed me a car key and told me to go to his car and bring the bag from the back seat. When I got back inside I was to take out the contents and lay them on the table located behind me. I did as I was told.

Inside the bag were 4 Paddles. The first one I took out was a long Black leather paddle. The second one I took out was a smaller reddish colored hairbrush paddle. The third one was one I recognized as a Jokari Paddle and knew it would hurt. To my horror the fourth one was a long wood thin paddle with 3 rows of small holes in it. That one hurt just looking at it! After I finished putting them out I sat back down in my chair and waited.

After a few moments we started to talk, small talk mostly. Then He asked me: "Why haven't you taken care of that business yet?" I thought about it for a minute and all I could say was, I don't know. I guess I should have though. He said I know why you haven't. You're lazy and have a lack of drive, but that is going to change today. You are going to receive a spanking you won't soon forget. I simply replied: "Yes Sir." Then he said: "Well Nikki it's time, and you know you deserve it." Once again all I could do was nothing but agree. He then told me he wanted me to stand in the corner and think about what I had done or not done in my case. You will get your spanking when I return. I went to the corner and he went out back. I stood there shaking for what seemed like forever. Although I knew and trusted him, it was afterall the first time he was going to spank me. Then I heard the door open and I knew it wouldn't be long now before I would be getting the punishment I so rightly deserved. I heard some rustling behind me and then he called out to me to come over to him. As I turned around I saw he had placed the chair where I was sitting in the middle of the room. Only now he was sitting in it. The paddles were on the table nearby. I slowly walked over and stood beside him for my next instruction. I got them as soon as I arrived. I want you to pull your jeans and panties down to your ankles, and over you go young lady as he gave his lap a pat. It's time we started. I slowly complied.

He moved me around a bit until he had me just where he wanted me, OTK with my bare butt up in the air. I heard Him select a Paddle. I was told this Is my hairbrush and is good for correcting Naughty young Ladies. I felt so exposed. It wasn't long before I was sure I was when the first smacks came down in rapid fire. He worked his way all around my bottom making sure not to miss a spot! After about 10 swats or so, that stopped. I was kicking a bit but I took it. Then he told me: "This is the leather paddle." Rubbing it around a bit and then, SMACK!, one after another for 6 smacks. I was ooouuuuing and ouching but it wasn't real bad. Then I was told: "This is the Jokari." I gasp and with that I got 6 more. I was kicking and screaming a bit at this point, but after the 6 it stopped again. I had a sigh of relief then. I was glad He did this because that one really hurt. With that I heard this is the one with the holes. "We will see what you think of it. I believe this one will really get your attention you naughty little Girl!" Having said that I got 6 again on what he called "The Sweet Spot", which is right at the bottom of the butt just at the thigh. He was right!. That one really did get my attention. It almost made me cry, but at 6 swats he stopped once again. I was just barely able to make it with that one without crying out loud. I did however have tears in my eyes. I got no more instructions on which one was in use. He started over as he lectured me about getting things done, doing just as before with 6 swats each. Although I didn't understand why he was doing it that way I was kinda glad because at 6 swats It was really stinging. It didn't take long for me to figure it out. He was seeing which one taught me the best lesson. That part took only a few minutes.

Once He had this information the real spanking started! At this point it is a blur to me as to what was used, but they were alternated. Now I got whatever one he wanted to use. I know this because it seemed that every other time it was the one with the holes punishing my backside. Only now instead of the 6 swats I was getting 15 or 20 swats and harder than before. I can say that the paddle with holes was first, other than that I don't know the order of change. After it was over I named the one with the holes: "Brat Paddle" because it got this Brats' attention. But it wasn't over yet. In fact it was just starting. I was in tears at about 7 or 8 with the Brat Paddle but got no mercy. It went on till I had gotten the full 15 or 20. It was that way with each Paddle as they were alternated. I do believe I got more of Brat Paddle and the Jokari than the other two. I was kicking and pleading for him to stop but to no avail. My tears and pleas fell on deaf ears as I was severely paddled and lectured as it went on. I knew as he did, that I was getting just what I deserved. My crying went to sobs as I went into "Sub- Space." He really worked on that sweet spot with that brat paddle too. I know because I recall the others too, not nearly as much as that Brat Paddle. I now believe it was the Brat Paddle that drove me there. I had no idea how long this went on but it seemed as though He wasn't ever going to stop.

My ass was on fire. He did stop briefly between tools but only to see what part of my bottom needed more attention. He wanted to be sure the whole thing was properly spanked as I'm sure a Disciplinarian would do. After what turned out to be 15 minutes of spanking he picked up the Brat Paddle and gave me about 20 vary hard swats. Then he asked me if I thought I had learned my lesson? Still sobbing I said: "Yes sir!". Will you take care of business tomorrow? Wiping my eyes I said: "Yes Sir!" His final word was: "I better not hear you didn't!" Now you may stand up. It was all I could do to stand up after being bent over for so long, but I finally did regain my footing. Gently pulling up my jeans I said: "Thank-you Sir!" I know I deserved that. He agreed and told me to be careful driving home.

As I left I remembered I was going to get this and more in early June. That was originally supposed to be our first meeting for a very private offense that I was to pay dearly for. This one was just paddling OTK. The one next month would be the Paddling, then the belts and a strap. As I drove home sitting very uncomfortably I realized what I will be in for the next time. Although I knew I deserved what I got this time, I also know I deserved worse the next time. I realize I have no choice and I will take what I have coming.

Then I did something stupid. I didn't go the next day as I was instructed. I took a rest at noon and fell asleep. I didn't get up until 6 PM so it was too late to go. That night while we were chatting he asked me how it went? I knew lying would be worse and the fact that I fell asleep may get me off. I told the truth. He told me he was very upset with me for not doing as I was told. I pleaded that it wasn't my fault I fell asleep, but he wasn't going to hear that. I was quickly told: "Young Lady, you have earned 20 extra with the Brat Paddle!" That will not be applied until after the other spanking is completely over. They will be applied standing bent over, and harder that you got before. You will learn to do as you are told after that I am sure. I couldn't help but think: "Oh My God", what have I gotten myself into!! Needless to say I was there the next day. It has been 3 days since the spanking. I am still very sore. I shutter to think what I will be feeling next month! Nicole (Nikki to My Disciplinarian).

Mandy had always been a disobedient girl. Since her early childhood her mother had found it necessary to spank her frequently and with increasing severity in order to get her to do as she was told. By the time she was eight her mother's hard hand had administered so many spankings to her naughty daughter's bottom that she decided that the punishments were no longer effective.

Whereas to start with Mandy's behaviour had improved for a few days after a good spanking, she was now reverting to her indisciplined ways within an hour or so of being put over her mother's knee. Clearly it was time for a change of routine. Instead of her hand her mother started to use a slipper on her daughter's behind. Again at first this seemed effective but within a year they were back again where they had started. A rubber soled gym shoe seemed to have a salutary effect particularly when it was applied with a quantity of sand inside it. Mandy, for the first time ever during a punishment session, put her hand behind her to try to ward off some of the resoundinmg slaps. Her mother, seeing that her daughter was at last feeling some degree of pain in her bottom, simply laid the gym shoe on harder and for longer.

Eventually the plimsoll was replaced by a hard wooden paddle and finally when Mandy was ten her mother decided that spankings were no good and that she would have to start beating the girl. This was due in part to her older son's comments. Returning from boarding school where the cane was used with some severity, he saw Mandy being spanked one day and laughingly told his mother that spanking did no good. "We get a paddle at school - twenty whacks or so - but we never take any notice of it.

A flat implement like that is no good. When we get the cane we really feel it. Why don't you beat Mandy properly?" "What is the difference between spanking and beating, then?" asked his mother. The boy replied that that was simple. A spanking was given with a flat implement - hand, hairbrush, paddle etc. - that could be painful and sting
but never left a lasting bruise nor could it be felt for more than a few hours afterwards. A beating was administered with a thin stick like a cane or switch cut from he hedge.

These cut into the flesh and would leave a bruise that would cause discomfort when sitting down even some days later. " That's what Mandy needs! She'll soon take some notice of that!" And so it was that Mandy began to get a good beating every time she was naughty. As they lived in the country her mother never found it difficult to find a good switch to cut from the hedge to use on her girl's seat and if Mandy got home from school and saw a switch lying on the table, she knew what was in store for her and really dreaded it.

The hard benches at school would be uncomfortable for days after a switching while if she wanted to take her pony our riding, she knew that sitting in the saddle would be dreadful for the rest of the week. What was more the whole procedure of being punished had changed. No longer was she put over her mother's knee as with a spanking - now she had to bend over the back of a kitchen chair and if she moved her mother would start the whole punishment again. It was little consolation that she no longer got thrashed on the bare bum. Her jeans gave little protection and she knew that in due course as she got older they would be removed in any case.

By the time she was fourteen the little switch in its turn had ceased to have much effect even on the bare bottom and her mother bnegan to wonder where she could buy a cane but suddenly she hit on an idea. Mandy's riding was becoming a bigger and bigger part of her life. She went to Pony Club and got into various teams. Her mother knew she was regarded as being rather hard on her ponies but she seemed to get results. Wouldn't it be a good idea if she learnt what her numerous riding whips felt like?

As you will know if you have ever been into a saddlers shop, there are a huge number of different types riding whips and crops on the market. They come a various lengths and thicknesses and have a number of different types of leather flaps or knotted cord at the business end. They divide into two main categories: the shorter ones are for general
riding, cross country work or show jumping while the long thin swishy ones are for use when schooling a horse or doing dressage. These latter are not meant to be used hard and are generally just flicked against a horse's flank. They are far too severe for real punishment - at least of a horse!

Mandy, by the time she was 14, owned about six different whips, rather more than most girls of her age would keep in the tack room. There was no doubt that she rather enjoyed just having one in her hand and got some upleasant pleasure in using them. She could not be called cruel but it was a fact that if she lost her temper she could hit her horse or pony rather harder and moe often than she should have done.

When she came home from a Pony Club rally one day, carrying a note from the istructress to her mother saying that she had not only been her usual disobedient self but had also been seen using her jumping whip too freely on her pony when it had refused a jump, her mother decided that the time had come to teach her what her own whips felt like.

She told her daughter to go out to the stables and wait for her there with her jodhpurs pulled down. Mandy knew all too well what this meant and although she knew she could take virtually any type of beating without it hurting too much, she was concerned that her mother mioght see the new, rather heavy jumping whip she had bought the week before - and might use it on her. So she hid it!

When her mother came out she asked her where this whip was and Mandy told her she had left it at the Pony Club by mistake. Without comment her mother told her to bend over the saddle horse in the tack room and gave her six stinging cuts with another whip. Mandy did not move a muscle or cry out.

"Now, where is the new crop? You didn't leave it at Pony Club because I saw you take it out of the Landrover when you got home". "I did. I did. You must have seen a different one. I had my dressage whip, and my old blue one with me today, mummy".

"Get back over that horse, Mandy! You know I always know when you're lying to me." Her mother took the dressage whip with a long corded end from the hook on which it was hanging.Roughly she pulled down her daughter's pants to reveal a perfect pair of buttocks already well striped by her whipping. "Now, I'm going to give you six cuts with this. You
will then tell me where your new whip is". She stepped back and laid the long thin dressage whip gently on Mandy's bottom. She raised it high and the whip made a dreadful swishing sound as it cut through the air and landed across the reddened cheeks of Mandy's behind.

For the first time the girl squirmed. After the second stroke she gave a low moan and after the third a soft "No"emerged from her lips. By now weals were rising on the tightly stretched bottom. After six cuts the girl was writhing and something like a scream came from her. Little flecks of blood appeared on the outside of her right buttock where the knotted cord was biting into her. "It's under the straw at the back of the stable". Mandy bit back her tears.

"Right. Now, wouldn't it have been better to admit it was here originally? Tomorrow afternoon I will see you down here and you're going to get a dozen strokes with your new whip. If you use it on your pony too severely, you'll get it used on you just as hard!"

Mandy slept on her tummy that night but her slumbers were frequently interrupted by thoghts of what was to come next day. She had asked the girl at the saddlers which was the most effective crop in the shop and now she was to larnhow effective it really was.

If she had known that her punishment was to be deferred she might have been greatly relieved. However, if she had known the reason she might not have been so pleased. While she thought about the pain to come and tried to find a position in which she could somehow lessen the hurt in her bottom her parents reached a decision. Mandy must go to boarding school.

They had recently heard of a school where the discipline was vey strict and where the girls could ride every day. It seemed just the pace for Mandy. They filled in the application form there and then. When they came to the question asking whether they agreed to their daughtrer being punished corporally if necssary they wrote: "We agree wholeheartedly". Where the form asked whether the pupil had experiened corporal punishment before they put "Often - please do not hesitate to beat her severely whenever you think fit".

Nest day Mandy was sent off to her new school. A visit to the saddlers on the way provided her with two new rubberised riding mackintoshes that were on the clothes list of essential items. They were to become as hateful to her as the soreness in her bottom alread was.

(Before reading this chapter anyone who does not know what a proper traditional white riding mackintosh looks like should go into www.darkhorseuk.com/riding_macs and look at the photos of them on that excellent website)

When she came down to breakfast after an uncomfortable night sleeping fitfully on her tummy, Mandy's parents told her that they could no longer cope with her behaviour and were going to send her to a boarding school in the hills about 30 miles away. Luckily the headmistress had just had to expel two girls and had an immediate vacancy so she would be leaving that afternoon.

Mandy was delighted. She felt certain that whatever horrors boarding school held they could not be worse that the strict discipline and severe punishment her mother frequently meted out to her.She packed cheerfully, including all her riding clothes and particularly her whips of which she had no less than six. Her mother, however, told her not to take her riding mac as they were going to call at the school saddlers on the way and get her a new one to a
particular specification as required by the school.

When they reached the shop her mother explained to the proprietress that Mandy was just off to St. Katherine's and wanted a riding mackintosh as stipulated on the School Clothes List. "Oh,well," the woman said, " you'd better speak to my assistant Clare. She was at St. Kate's only a year or so ago and knows exactly what Mandy will need." She called up the stairs and a tall,slim, blonde girl of about 20, wearing tight fitting jodhpurs and high black rubber riding boots,
came down to join them. The position was explained to her and she took charge of the situation at once.

At first she just looked Mandy up and down, noting the girls approximate size but then, instead of going over to the rail from which about twenty white riding mackintoshes were hanging, she took a key out of her pocket and opened a tall, narrow cupboard in the corner of the shop."You'll really want two macs. If you take my advice you'll take one of
these", she indicated the waterproofs on the right of the rail in the cupboard, " one size larger than
you really need and one of these here on the left in your proper size.

The point is that the headmistress uses the riding mackintoshes that are made to a special pattern for St. Kate's as a sort of punishment. They are terribly heavy and, as I'll show you are fitted with lots of extra straps, buttons and buckles which, when they're done up properly and tightly which the school rules say must always be the case, are very uncomfortable. So it's really useful to have that mackintosh a little too large for you and then you can wear the slightly smaller lighter one underneath it to prevent any possibility of rain getting on to your riding clothes if it rains really
heavily. If you ever get your clothes wet you get punished very severely so you need to try to avoid it".

Mandy spoke for the first time. "What sort of punishments does the school use?" "Well, apart from mackintosh punishments where you might be made to wear your heavy mac every time you go riding for a week, say, whatever the weather, or for 24 hours indoors and out,you'll normally just get a good beating! But don't worry, you'll get used to
it!"

Her mother patted Mandy on the bottom and smiled. "Don't bother about her. She's used to getting her bum walloped. I gave her a good thrashing with one of her own riding whips only yesterday so she's still pretty sore and if she gets into trouble this week she'll certainly not find riding much fun."

Clare smiled. "Well, riding's compulsory every afternoon whatever the weather so I hope you enjoy it tomorrow. Here - try this on." She handed Mandy a voluminous white mackintosh off the rail and the girl nearly fell over from the unexpected weight of it. "Yes, they are heavy! They are made from two layers of rubberised cloth bonded together so instead of having a layer of rubber sandwiched between two layers of cotton you've got two layers of rubber with cotton
between them and then cotton on both the outside and inside. It makes these macs not only heavy but totally waterproof as well as not very pliable. Here - do everything up as tightly as you can and see how you feel."

Clare watched as Mandy struggled into the mackintosh, pulled the leg straps tight round her thighs just above the kne, did up all the buttons except the top one and finally pulled the wide belt tight as well.

Clare looked at her admiringly. "Good. That looks pretty smashing. But let me give you a friendly warning. If you are ever seen at St. Kate's wearing your mac like that you'll be in for a beating on your bare bum bent over the saddle horse in front of the whole school." Noticing Mandy's surprise she went on, " You must always, always do up the top
button.

Always turn up the collar ands always button it across your chin on the tightest button." She watched the girl fasten the heavy rubberised cloth round her neck, turn up the collar and, after a struggle, fasten the storm tab across her mouth on to the third and tightest button on the opposite side of the collar - a collar which was high and stiff, covering the bottom of the girl's ears at the sides and her mouth in front. "And the belt! Look! I can get three fingers in between
the belt and the mac. Pull it far tighter - at least three holes. That's it. Now you'd about pass a proper St. Kate's
mackintosh inspection."

Mandy felt almost unable to move, weighed down as she was and trussed into the waterproof. But she felt a strange sense of safety and protection flooding into her and the smell of the rubbery cloth was arousing something in her that she could not understand. Reluctantly she took the big mackintosh off and put on the lighter one. It was not greatly
different from the riding mac she had left at home but the newness gave it a feel and aroma that also seemed to awaken some strange senses in her.

"Can I put the big one on over the top of this one now? I want to be certain it'll fit", she asked her mother. Clare, however, stepped in. "No don't do that now. I suggest that as it's pretty dark outside and is probably going to rain, you should keep that one on, done up properly just like it is now, and make sure you show this other one to the Headmistreess when you arrive. You'll have plenty of time to get used to wearing them both at school. There's just
one more thing. I always tell girls going to St. Kate's to buy one of these. They're just a little bit more effective
than every other riding whip on the market. You'll find that useful when you're in a competition and it'll give you an edge over some of the other girls who don't have one." The tall blonde handed Mandy a black leather riding whip about 30 inches long. Made of plaited leather over a real whalebone stock it tapered at the end to a thin whippy point from which extruded and length of knotted cord.

Her mother paid for both riding mackintoshes and the whip, they climbed back into the car,Mandy still wearing her mac and set off into the hills. As they did so the rain began to fall. The End. - Many thanks Neal

FLYING THE FLAG!
by Alex Birch.

A topical story, For St. Patrick's day.

'Daughter will ye hurry yerself...!' Michael McLoughlin growled affectionately up at the small farm cottage bedroom window '...the market will have closed up for the night by the time ye finish paintin' yer face! 'Don't panic , Da...' the soft tones came back on the breeze '..I'm on me way!'and Michael shook his head and grinned as, within seconds, a vision of auburn haired beauty appeared at the cottage door dressed in working jeans and a pale blouse.

'It took ye all that time just to put on those rags?' Michael demanded in mock disbelief, while silently thinking what a fine and beautiful young woman his 17 year old daughter had become. It had not been easy for either of them, Geraldine's mother passing away when the kid was just eight years old and the farmer bringing the child up on his own despite having to also manage a full day in the fields. It had been tiring and taxing but, as he gazed at his daughterproudly he told himself for the thousandth time what a lucky man he was.

Michael McCloughlin was a rare man in the parish of Clonakilty for he was one of the few Protestants in the area and a very devout churchgoer. He was a passionate teetotaller who hated public houses, nothing stronger than an orange
juice ever passing his lips, and the rare combination made him the subject of much jesting among his fellow farmers. The humour was warm hearted though for Michael was much liked and respected in Clonakilty for his warmth and his sense of principle and fair play. The relationship between father and daughter was one of mutual love and respect but he had been a stern parent. It was common knowledge that in the early days of his single parenthood when Geraldine had misbehaved, such respect had been instilled into her via a firm hand across her bottom. Many's the time she had turned up at school with a tear stained face then wriggled in her seat as if a thousand ants were setting up house inside her panties. Knowing grins, whispers and giggles from her classmates merely added to the embarrassment of the young girl, but she was young and headstrong so Michael's hand came in for some regular exercise.

It had all been worth while, for Geraldine had turned into a beautiful and talented young woman, her grades at school were good and now she was hoping to go to University College in Cork to study medicine. Michael came out of his reverie as Geraldine skipped down the path hugged his arm and kissed him on the cheek, her warm smile immediately brightening his day. 'Jaysus..' he chuckled '...I thought I'd turn to stone out here! Now help me get the piglets onto the back of the truck before I freeze to death!'

The girl grinned as they both went into the sty and Michael was treated to the delight of his daughter's peal of laughter when she went down on her knees trying to hold on to a squealing piglet which insisted on giving her the run around for fully five minutes.

Eventually the truck was loaded up and the rear shutter locked in place as theyoung pigs set up a chorus of squeals. As the truck bounced and rocked over the unmade road towards town, Michael cast a sideways look at his daughter and
smiled. 'Mmmm...' he observed with a grin '...would that be a little eye shadow you have on there as well as the soft pink lipstick? All this for a trip to market with your old Da. Girl I am really flattered!'He was amused as Geraldine coloured up and muttered shyly 'Oh Da be off with you now!'

Michael smiled. 'It wouldn't be that no good Papist, Patrick Houlihan, just might be in town now would it girl? and Geraldine blushed once more. 'Now Da, Patrick's alright ..you know he is..and anyway we're just friends...and
shame on you for remarks like that!!' she grinned, for she knew her father was simply goading her. He had never been a religious bigot and had always givenhis Catholic neighbours and their faith a great deal of respect. 'Ah sure he's alright for a left footer..'Michael smiled '...just you make sure your head doesn't turn so far you forget about your studies. All that mcanoodling stuff can wait'

Geraldine playfully punched her father's arm and said no more as her father grinned and they continued on towards town, the old truck creaking and groaning as the porcine cargo at the back continued its wailing chorus.

In Clonakilty, the market was in full swing and traders and stall owners bartered loudly as cattle, pigs ands sheep were herded into pens and alotted an owners number. Michael parked the truck and stared at his pretty daughter who
sat in a state of some excitement beside him, her eyes looking this way and that among the crowd until she spied the face she was looking for and she waved frantically in its direction.

Michael squeezed her arm. 'Alright darlin' ..'he said '...I see Seamus Rafferty in the owners circle there. I'll get him to help me unload the pigs as I'm sure you have better things to do..but be back here in two hours!!'

Geraldine's face lit up and she leaned across and kissed him. 'You're the best daddy in all the world!' she gasped and hurriedly opened the passenger door. Michael gave her a playful swat across her bottom as she wriggled across the seat and out of the truck door and watched as she joined the young tall darkhaired boy who stood waiting then the pair linked hands and began to walk away into the crowd. He sighed softly as a sudden pang ate through his heart. No
more his little girl, soon she would be off to college and then maybe married and out of his life. He couldnt bear the thought so got out of the truck and whistled to Seamus to help unload the piglets.

In a small lane on the other side of the town Geraldine and Patrick lay side by side in the back seat of the boys Ford Escort, the boy flipping the top off a Smithwicks beer. He offered the bottle to Geraldine who hastily pushed it away.

'Christ, Pat...' she muttered '..my Da would take the skin off my hide if he so much as smelt alcohol on my breath!! I just daren't!' Aw surely he wouldn't still tan yer arse...'the boy replied '..not at your
age!' and the girl snorted. 'Wouldn't he just!!' she said with feeling and the boy allowed a fleeting image to cross his mind which brought a certain stiffness in his trousers.

'I wonder if he would approve of this?' he grinned and put down his beer, gently moving his hand over Geraldine's shoulders and down until he found the top button of her blouse. The girl stiffened and moved against him.

'Patrick we shouldn't!' she whispered, her voice so soft and needy that he knew he was home and dry.

Gently his hands undid all the buttons of her blouse until her pale lacy bra was exposed, then after a few seconds exploration gently slipped his hand behind her back, undid the catch and slipped the bra away from her small firm breasts.

Geraldine closed her eyes and sighed as his hand slipped gently over her bare breast, the warm nipple erecting immediately to his tender touch as he leaned over and kissed her, their mouths and tongues sucking hungrily as his hand gently caressed the soft globe. Soon his hand wandered lower, over her firm stomach and to the waist buttons of
her jeans. He managed the first hurdle but as he began to open her zipper Geraldine shot upright in the seat and moved his hand away.

'No Pat...' she whispered '..not there..not yet. I'm just not ready. It doesn't seem right!' The boy cursed under his breath and sat back in the seat. 'Jaysus Gerry, you're eighteen next month and you're still a virgin! For God's
sake when are you going to loosen up? I thought you loved me!'

The girl turned in anger 'So that's what love is to you, Patrick Houlihan, a grope and a screw in the back of a car? Well it means more than that to me!' Realising he would get nowhere Patrick put his arm around her again and pulled
her close. 'I'm sorry love. I guess I just have to wait until you're ready for the next step. Let's not argue. Hey are we coming into town for the St Paddy's Day parade tomorrow? That will be great craic and there's loads of bands and stuff.
Will your dad be coming in?' She nodded eagerly, the anger forgotten as she lay in his arms.

'I wouldn't miss it for the world ..' she said and grinned '...I'm going to wear my plaid skirt and a little something I got from McGinty's just for the occasion. Da would kill me if he knew but I'll give you a peep if you behave! He won't come in tomorrow, he prefers to sit at home on St Pats Day. Its mom and dad's wedding anniversary too you see.....' she stopped, her face sad Patrick kissed her cheek, secretly pleased that he would have Geraldine to
himself all day. Maybe she might....... he tried to avoid getting too optimistic.

'So whats the surprise you don't want your dad to see?' he asked eagerly and she put a finger to his lips. 'You'll just have to be patient won't you!' she chuckled.

The next day Michael was having breakfast when a 5ft 2in ball of fire shot down the stairs in a blaze of green, her auburn hair shimmering as she dived into the kitchen and grabbed a bowl of cornflakes. 'Lord have mercy...' her father remarked '..has the house caught fire and I didn't notice?' Geraldine grinned and replied 'Not quite Da, Patrick's picking me up in ten minutes and we're off to the Clonakilty parade. I'll be late...are you not coming in yourself?'

Michael hid his disappointment that she would not be staying home with him for he knew it was unfair to expect it. The kid deserved to enjoy herself while she was young. 'No love..' he replied '..I've got a few things to do around the farm but you go and enjoy yourself. Don't be too late back..and don't go doing anything you
shouldn't!'

She rolled her eyes and grinned then kissed him as the sound of a car horn broke the early morning silence. His daughter grabbed her bag and shot out of the door with a parting 'bye' as Michael shook his head in despair at the nature of the young these days. Everything was 100 miles per hour... not like when he met Bernadette.
He had no car then and their courtship was so much more discreet but times had changed so much. He got up and looked at the picture of his wife on the mantelpiece and whispered 'You'd be so proud of her sweetheart..so proud!' wiped his eyes and turned his attention to thoughts of clearing out the barn.

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Patrick parked up in town and took a long look at the beautiful girl in the passenger seat . His eyes took in the green bolero jacket and the plaid skirt which came to just below her knees, perfect for the day. 'Jeez you look gorgeous...'he breathed '...I could eat you if I hadn't got even better ideas. Now what was this little peek you were gonna give me?'

Geraldine grinned then quickly checked that no one was around and quickly raised her skirt to display a pair of lacy panties in the colours of the Irish Republic. As Patrick began to grin she turned on her side and raised the skirt
at the back where, across the green white and orange pattern which moulded to her firm young buttocks was a logo. Patrick hooted with laughter and lightly smacked the proffered bottom.

'A perfect complement to the rest of the gear...' he said '..but I reckon you're right about your dad. He's a mite stuffy sometimes!'

They got out of the car and walked towards the Skibbereen Road where the floats and cars would be along in a matter of minutes. Already the town was filling with people, families out with their kids, teenagers, young lovers hand in hand
like Patrick and Geraldine and the carnival atmosphere was everywhere.

Geraldine took a deep breath and smiled. She loved St Patrick's Day because the Irish could just let go and enjoy themselves. She looked up at the boy she loved then thought fleetingly of her dad sat moping in the house and wished he could rid himself of the pain and try to live again.

The sound of hooting horns spawned an excited buzz in the crowd then they could see the floats approaching from the direction of the fire station. People began to clap and cheer as the first float hove into view, a group of young Irish
dancers in national costume performing in perfect time to the sound of traditional reels. As the truck pulling the float slowly rumbled past and the dancers executed their routine, Geraldine hopped up and down like a ten year old
at her first party so caught up was she in the atmosphere. The crowds grew and soon the town was heaving with people waving tricolors and St Patricks banners, kids waving balloons and everyone laughing and singing. Floats went by with
leprechauns in large hats, more dancers, a 12 piece ceilidh band with, it had to be said, more energy than talent but, who cared, the day was just perfect.

Patrick squeezed Geraldine's waist and whispered 'Let's go and hear some good live music!. 'Fiddler's Jig' are playing in town and they're great!'

Geraldine nodded enthusiastically and Patrick seized her hand and began to pull her, laughing, down the main road towards the centre of town. They walked down the main road and then into a side street leading to the town square when Patrick suddenly stopped outside Murphy's Bar. 'Why have we stopped here?' Geraldine asked and Patrick grinned.

Geraldine coloured up and stuttered. 'Patrick..its a pub! I can't go in a pub. My dad would kill me!!'

The boy sighed. 'Jesus, you're 18 next month. You're a young woman not a kid! I respect your old man a lot but he IS set in his ways. Today you can let your hair down and enjoy yourself Gerry!! It's Paddy's Day for God's sake. Live a
little!' Geraldine shook her head in anxious confusion, her torment apparent.

'He trusts me Patrick. I swore to him I wouldn't drink and he would be so hurt if I broke my word'

'Well don't break your word...' the boy said in exasperation '...your dad's not
here to supervise you and you can drink orange juice or something. We're here for the band not to get drunk. Come on Gerry, this is plain silly!' The girl's doubt was etched in her face but finally she cracked.

'OK but I'll just drink fruit juice and don't ever breathe a word of this or I'll be toast!'

Patrick grinned and seized her arm before she could change her mind and ushered her through the door.

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Michael dumped the last of the hay bales into the barn and stomped back into the house. He was restless and unhappy as always on this day of all days. He kicked off his boots and suddenly came to a decision. He spent too much time moping around in this self pitying fashion and it was time to do something about it. He went upstairs and took a bath before changing into his only suit, which hadn't seen the light of day since Geraldine's school prize giving day the
previous year. He picked up the keys to the truck. Today was going to be a St Patricks Day with a difference.

The music was loud and good, the infectious energy of the band making Geraldine light headed and happy. She sat with her hea on Patrick's shoulder, both of them swaying back and forth in time to the rhythm, pleased now that she had overcome her fears. The atmosphere was great and the pub regulars were friendly
and chatty. Patrick held her tightly and grinned at her obvious pleasure. 'Glad we came?' he whispered and , eyes shining, she nodded happily.

'Ive run out of beer..' he suddenly said '..I'll get another round in' Reluctantly she unwound from the embrace and let him get to the bar, herattention now gripped by the musicians on stage, unaware of Patrick's quiet word with the barman as he got the drinks in.

When he returned and slid into his seat, she took a sip from her drink and
frowned. 'This tastes different..' she said '...sort of sharper'

She nodded and took another sip, gradually feeling more and more relaxed and
happy as the music seemed to take her over. She got up to go to the bathroom and, on her return, paused by the small stage and began to move her hips in time with the music. Conscious of the sudden cheers and laughter Geraldine covered her face with embarrassment and was about to flee to her seat when the barman shouted out

'That was great, darlin'..youre a lovely little mover. Go on give us a twirl and theres a drink on the house for ya!'

The bar broke into applause and Geraldine responded to the attention, blushing furiously, but obediently twirling and pointing her toes, hands above her head as the pub crowd laughed and cheered.

The barman looked across at Patrick and winks were exchanged before another glass of juice magically arrived in the hand of the young girl. She took a sip..same sharp taste as the last one..but she was beginning to enjoy both it and the attention.

The band too was enjoying the accompaniment of her dancing and broke into a frantic jig, the crowd clapping along in time with the music as Geraldine, her head light as a feather and her inhibitions gone, danced and twirled in delight.

'Lets clear a table...' the barman shouted as the crowd roared its approval '..and lets have you up here where you can have some room!!'

Protesting weakly at first, Geraldine allowed herself to be helped up onto the pub table to cheers and whistles, then revelled in being the centre of attention as the crowd applauded. She began to twirl and shimmy, her plaid skirt flicking
up as she swayed this was and that, lost in the excitement of the music and her own liberation.

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Michael parked the truck and walked up the Skibbereen road and through the cheering crowds, pausing to laugh at the antics of the leaping leprechauns and the clowns on the passing floats. He looked out into the crowd for Geraldine
and Patrick but they were nowhere to be seen.

He walked on past the town hall clock and through the crowd he saw the familiar face of Eamonn Hegarty who, as ever was a little the worse for wear, but sober enough to recognise and wave to Michael. The two men embraced and Michael patted the older man's shoulder.

'You look as if you are enjoying the day, Eamonn...' he said with a grin '..have you seen me daughter and the Houlihan boy by any chance?'

'So I have, Michael, so I have...' he chuckled '...and what a lovely little thing she is too. Who taught her to dance like that I'd like to know! I tell ya, she's the best thing Murphy's Bar has seen in a...' He stopped dead as Michael's face turned crimson with rage and his jaw set in
anger.

'Er..look..Michael..' Hegarty stuttered '..I didn't realise that..I mean the
kid's just having a good time..I...' but his words were lost on the breeze as a furious Michael McLoughlin stormed up
the street, an angry man with just one thought on his mind.

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The band was playing with a fervour now and all the regulars were on their feet standing around the one table where a young girl, uninhibited and wildly happy, was having the time of her life, her body twirling and swaying , her plaid skirt
lifting as she danced, displaying her lithe and shapely young limbs as Patrick and the rest of the crowd just drank in the view.

Geraldine's auburn mane tossed this way and that as she danced oblivious to all except the pleasure and release the music was giving her. Her head was light and her feet felt like feathers as she danced, her skirt flicking up as she spun
and swayed.

She was so lost in the music that she didn't hear the pub door fly open with a crash, nor did she see the crowd of regulars turn around towards the big man framed in the doorway, nor did she hear the muttered cries of 'Oh Jesus' as the crowd shrank back to their seats. She just realised that Patrick was standing alone, trembling, before being pushed so firmly out of the way that he nearly stumbled and fell and then her eyes lit on the face of the newcomer who stood
with his arms folded in front of the table.

Her face turned pale as the tide of adrenalin suddenly dried up and she began to
tremble. 'Daddy I..' she began as he bellowed

Weeping she clambered down from the table nearly falling off in her haste and slightly less than sober state. Her father seized her arms none too gently as she tottered until she was safely down and standing before him with her head
bowed and tears in her eyes.

He said nothing at first but picked up the glass beside her and sniffed the contents. 'Vodka!..' he said with contempt '...after all you promised. After everything you vowed to me you are in here... underage, drinking vodka!'

'No daddy..' she squealed '..its orange juice. I only ordered...' and Patrick plucked up his courage to rise.

Michael spun on his heel, his face so angry that Patrick took a step backwards.

'Oh you'll explain alright! You'll explain to your father after I've had words with him, and after today you will explain to my daughter..if she ever speaks to you again...just what sort of a man you are! Until then this is MY business and
if you try and interfere I'll knock you into the middle of next week!'

Patrick knew he could too and knew better than to argue further with Geraldine's father in this mood so, riddled with guilt but helpless to interfere, he let matters take their course.

Michael, shaking with rage, stared at his daughter who stood, her head downcast, too ashamed to face him, then seized her by the arm, plonked himself down on a vacant chair and threw her face down across his lap

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'Daddy...NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO' Geraldine howled as a collective gasp of astonishment rippled around the pub.

Michael ignored her pleas and with effortless ease, he wrenched the plaid skirt right up to her waist as Geraldine squealed in hapless embarrassment.

'Please daddy.not here..please !' she yelled but Michael was not listening to her. He had intended to spare her at least some humiliation in a public place but now his colour rose another notch as he stared at his daughter's buttocks
encased in the national flag with the words 'SMART ASS' emblazoned across her rear. The roars of laughter around the pub which accompanied the revelation finally lit the touch paper to what was left of his temper...the ultimate
mockery of his authority.

With a growl of anger, he shouted 'Smart ass indeed my girl...it bloody well will be!' then seized the waist band of her panties and dragged them down to her knees as Geraldine squealed in humiliation, her shapely pale bottom exposed to
everyone in Murphy's Bar. There was a chorus of disbelieving gasps around the bar as Patrick tried to get up, only to be restrained by older and wiser men who knew that this was a family affair. Old Sean Riordan chuckled that it was the first time he had seen the national flag at half mast on St Patrick's Day but everyone else was glued, hypnotised, to the scene before their eyes.

Patrick stared at his girlfriend's naked bottom trembling with anticipation before Michael's huge hand rose and fell with a sharp crack across Geraldine's bare cheeks, the girl squealing with shock, wriggling her bottom as a large pink handprint became impressed on one cheek. The boy was dealing with so many conflicting emotions...guilt and shame for being the cause of his girlfriend's downfall but the stiffness in his pants testified to other less charitable reactions.

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The spanking began in earnest as Michael's firm hand dealt retribution to his errant daughter and soon both her bottom cheeks were blazing red, she was wailing loudly, wriggling her bottom in a most lascivious fashion while trying to keep her thighs together as much as she could. Her angry father saw no cause yet to desist and his experienced hand rose and fell with force and speed as thegirl howled her anguish. Soon the pain was too much to bear and Geraldine's legs began to scissor open and closed, her panties sliding further down her legs in consequence, her open thighs revealing her most intimate areas to everyone.

Patrick's throat went dry as he gazed upon the holy grail he had been desperately trying to see and touch for 12 months and now here she was naked and exposed to the entire gathering of some fifty regulars of Murphy's Bar.

There was no let up as Michael's hand rose and fell time after time on his daughter's bare bottom which was now crimson and obviously extremely hot. She squealed and writhed from side to side, oblivious now to the obscene display
with which she was delighting the entire bar and Patrick nearly came in his pants. It was the most shamefully exciting event he had ever witnessed in his life and as he stared closely at the vulva now so prominently displayed between
Geraldine's kicking legs he gasped in surprise as he realised that the shiny slightly open lips and the flecks of moisture were evidence of something happening to Geraldine despite the pain and the humiliation of her punishment.
He was no expert on anatomy but he knew something about arousal and there was no doubt of what was happening here.

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Such intimate observations were lost on Michael McLoughlin who finally dissipated his anger as he realised his daughter was no longer struggling butsimply lying there like a limp rag crying quietly. He stopped spanking and
looked down at his handiwork, aghast now at what he'd done. Geraldine's bottomwas crimson over every inch of her cheeks, not a patch of white skin could be seen. He swallowed hard and gently pulled her to her feet. To his and
Patrick's surprise there was no anger, no violent reaction, just a sad and sorryyoung girl who stood, panties still around her ankles, hands over her eyes weeping quietly.

'It's over...' he said gently '...pull up your pants and make yourself respectable'

The reminder that she was naked prompted another burst of humiliated sobbing but, with trembling fingers, Geraldine pulled up her panties and pulled down her skirt before covering her eyes with her hands and running out of the pub door into the street.

Michael looked around the pub at the fifty pairs of eyes who gazed at him, moststill in shocked amazement, and cleared his throat.'I'm sorry...' he said, his voice breaking, '...sorry for everything. That should never have happened. I love her so much and I felt betrayed..but that's no excuse for what I did. Now I'll take my little girl home!' and with that he
rose abruptly and left the pub as an excited babble broke out among the regulars who swore this was a Paddy's Day to tell their grandchildren about. Patrick ran to the door and watched as Michael and Geraldine, his arm around her waist,
walked slowly down the small street before turning the corner where they were lost from view.

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The boy walked out of the bar and back to where his car was parked and realised that his eyes were stinging with tears. Whether this damage could be repaired he had no idea but he felt wretched and miserable. He loved her so much but his stupidity had caused repercussions way beyond anything either of them could have conceived and he hoped to God Geraldine would see it that way too...eventually. As he climbed into his car and sat for a moment to calm his nerves he was shamefully aware of his erection returning...because over and above his guilt and shame, his mind kept returning to the vision of her pale white bottom wriggling and turning red, her legs parting to reveal her sex and the obvious
arousal as her reddening bottom writhed in pain. He wondered if maybe she had always secretly enjoyed it and whether, if they got back together he might also get the chance to...Jesus too early to think of that...but as he started the engine he knew he would never forget the time Geraldine McLoughlin flew the flag at half mast on St Patrick's Day!!

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George Takes on a Family
CHAPTER #1 THE BEGINNING

Well it finally happen, thought George, as he sat at the table looking out at the crowd of people who was here for his wedding reception. After twenty-one years of being on his own George Ash was married. How could he not marry such a beautiful woman as Katt Roman? From the first time he had saw her he knew he had to, even though she had three daughters, almost all grown.

Katt was only thirty-six she had married young to her first husband who had died five years ago in an accident. The girls were the one things that worried George when he ask Katt to married him, because they all lived at home. It was one thing to take on a wife but three teenage daughters was going to be a chore.

But Katt told him not to worry everything was under control plus the girls liked George very much. She told him Sue, who was nineteen and in college was no trouble at all. And that the seventeen year olds Terry and Mary who where twins. Where very well behaved for being teenagers.

She assured George that they would all be one happy family. They all moved into a large six-bedroom house that George bought for Katt who decided to stay at home while George worked. He owed a large travel agency that made them enough money for her to do so. The first six mouths where great and everyone was happy but that soon were going to change !!!

Yes the first six mouths were great. But soon after that things started happen that made George very unhappy. First of all Sue the oldest seem to be partying all the time, and coming home all times of the night during the week and never seem to be doing any schoolwork.

When George asked her about it she would get offences saying she did at school plus she would go to her mother complaining that George was picking on her. Katt then would tell George not to worry she is doing fine. Then there were the twins, they never cleaned their room plus they always seem to have new stuff on when George saw them.

He told Katt she needed to start cracking down on them on doing their chores, plus he would like to know where were they getting the money to buy all this new stuff. All Katt would say "there you go again worrying about nothing" they are teenagers plus they buy the stuff they have making money baby-sitting.

A week after the twins turned eighteen something happen that made George decide that some changes had to take place or else this was not going to work. It came from the one person he didn't except Katt.

He had called home one day day but could not get though so he went home early to see why. When he got there he found no power in the house plus the phone was not working. He went up to their bedroom where he found Katt sitting on the bed crying. What is going here, he asks Katt. Oh George I'm sorry I'm very sorry!! Sorry about what? Ask George will you explain please.

Well you see the money you gave me to pay the bills "Yes" said George. I gambled it away on the Internet "YOU WHAT" exclaim George "HOW COULD YOU DO SUCH A DUMB THING"? Well it was fun at first because I won but then I started to lose and I couldn't seem to win again."HOW MUCH DID YOU LOSE? "Asked George."Ten thousand dollars" replied a nerviest Katt "WHAT" I know you are mad aren't you?

To say the least yes I am "remarked George" How much do you owe them now? "Four thousand" but I will pay them I will get a job!! No because I love you I will pay your debt Says George, but there will be a punishment for this stupid and childish act of yours. Oh anything dear anything I love you so and I don't want to lose you because of my stupid actions cried Katt.

Katt how could you do this? I would have expected it of the girls, such a childish thing to do "Oh Please" George forgive me please. Standing there thinking about it rubbing his chin, finally looking at Katt, asking where are the girls? They are staying at friend's houses since we didn't have any power.

OK I have decided what your punishment will be "OH ANYTHING" cries Katt. You will be punished like child for such stupid childish act do you here me "YES SIR ANYTHING" as long as you forgive me and love me. Fine says George getting up he tells Katt. I am going to give you what I would give one the girls if one of them did what you did, a very sound bare bottom spanking!!

A WHAT??? You heard me now get over to me so I can raise your skirt ""BUT I'M A ADULT " NOT A TEENAGE GIRL!! "Katt cried" as she backed up "GET OVER HERE NOW AND TAKE YOUR SPANKING" As your punishment. George commanded, looking right at Katt.

Katt walks over to George holding onto her bottom starting to cry. George grabs hold of her pulling her down over his lap grabbing hold of her right arm with one hand and flipping up her skirt over her head then taken hold of the waistband of her panties lower them to her knees Katt crying all along 'Please not my bare bottom "Please" For what you did you get the full thing.

But I will only use my hand this time, which will hurt bad enough, when I am though with your bottom. With that George started to swat Katts bottom first one side then the other "SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK Katt started to cry louder kicking her legs up and down yelling "PLEASE STOP" PLEASE STOP" "IT HURT SO MUCH PLEASE I WON'T DO IT AGAIN OW, OW. But George kept on spanking Katts bottom turning it redder then a beet, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK the spanking went on for about a another five minutes. Finally George stopped and let Katt up she dance around the room like a wild Indian rubbing her bottom and crying ever so loud.

After a while George took hold of her and held her close in his arms comforting her while she cried. And another thing stated George as he held Katt in his arms I think the girls need more control as long as they going to live here. And I am going to start those controls, is that clear my dear "Yes Sir" Says Katt looking up at George Feeling comfort in his arms even though she knew it would be sore to sit for a while sore but thankful that she had him and that he had forgave and loved her for her stupid actions.

The next day, after Katts' spanking, George went in and took care of the bills and Katts debt. That Sunday night when the family gathered to watch movies as they did ever Sunday night George decided to announce the new rules of the household.

Getting up and going in front of the television "Ladies" he stated to get their attention I have something to say before the movies begin "Yes George", said Sue. That's what the girls had decided to call him, hurry it up this is a good movie and we are wasting time "stated Terry ". What I have to say is important to you girls and I recommend that you listen.

From now on, your mother and I have decided that there are going to be some new rules in this house for you girls to follow. What do you mean new rules!!? "Stated Sue" with a surprise look on her face "YEA" Commented the twins at the same time.

Just what I said "states George" looking right at the girls. Sue from now on school nights you will be in no later then 11 P.M. and on the weekend 1 A.M. unless your mother and I give you permission "WHAT" exclaims Sue you can't do that I'm old enough to go and come as I please.

Not as long as you live in this house your not "states George" and with the cost to live on your own without your education .You will be here for at least another two years if not more. "BUT MOM", looking over at her mother with a sad look, Katt just smiled and looked up at George. Sue fell back in her chair not happy knowing she had no choice and that George was right. And as far as you twins "stated George" from now on I what that room of yours clean so your mother doesn't have to go looking for dirty dishes or clothes do you understand me?

"But That's Our Room" "Mary states" as she stands up looking at George in a defiant way. Yes but it is part of this house "comments George" and plus it is time you girls took some responsibility in hand at your age.

If you what to be treated as =adults then act it. "But Mother Doesn't Mind" "states Terry" as she stands up also looking at George then her mother. Well she doe's now and so do I and you girls have the same curfew as your sister "do you Understand"??? "YES SIR" "stating both girls" as they sat down looking at each as though someone had just clip their wings.

And another thing the grades of all you girls better be C's or above or else you will here from me do you hear me "states George" "or else what mumbles Sue in a quite voice to herself what you going to do "spank us"? George just looks over at Sue with a very stein look.

Well now that that's said lets get to our movies. No I'm tired and I'm going to bed "exclaims Sue" as she gets up to leave the room, me to "says Terry" as she get up and stretches out her arms, yea "says Mary" as she follows the other two up the stairs.

Was it something that I said George states to Katt as the girls all leave? Two weeks went by and the girls seem to be following the new rules just fine. Then one day George gets a call from Katt she was crying. "OH George" what are we going to do?

Calm down and tell me what is wrong, you haven't been out betting our money again have you? "NO NO" It's Sue I got three letters, from her different professors, she is getting E's in her classes and she will fail if she doesn't improve in three weeks.

Give me their names "says George" and I will call and talk to them today about her and her grades. That night George, Katt and the twins had dinner Sue hadn't came home yet but had called and said she would be home at seven. As they ate George, looked at the twins, and said since you girls have done so well with your room why don't you go to the movies on me, taking out some money and handing it to them, there is something that your mother and I what to talk to your sister about alone.

Thank you George as they took the money, by six thirty they where gone. As they sat there waiting for Sue Katt looked at George and said now don't be too hard on her George. I won't my dear no harder then I was on you.

Finally at seven Sue walk in the door saying hi to both of them. Sue sit down here we need to talk to you " about what!!!? Ask Sue". About your grades, did you know that you are failing three classes right now young lady? "Ask Katt".

Well no but I will pass them you'll see "And how are you going to do that when two of them you have only been to them three times this year "ask George" I will you'll see "says Sue in a quiet voice" Not with four weeks left you'll not "states Katt" Plus some of the work you turned in you copied out of a book instead of writing it yourself??

"WELL" I was in a hurry and late in doing it. It sound as though you were late in turning a lot of your work if you turned it in at all according to your professors "You Talked to my professors"???

Yes indeed I did after your mother got these notices "states George" holding them in his hand. Well what do you have to say for yourself Sue "says Katt" with an angry voice?? I'm sorry and I will try harder next term!!

That's not good enough young lady you were warned about your grades but to also cheat that what young kids do!!!!!!!"States George" with a very anger looks on his face I said I'm sorry "SUE states" looking down at the floor starting to cry knowing that she was in big trouble.

Well as I said that's not good enough "states George" you are going to be punished and I believe you named your own punishment when I stated the new rules about grades. Sue looked up at George with a shocked look on her face.

You don't mean "she states" but I'm to old for that, plus mother wouldn't let you, would you mother? I'm sorry dear I'm afraid you have bought this on your self and have earned nothing less then a sound spanking, plus I believe George needs to give it to you on your bare bottom for you to learn what you have done is so wrong!

But I'm twenty years old I'm too old to get spanked. Sue what you have done I would have expected of a young child in grade school."George states" as he gets up heading for Sue. "Wait "Sue cries out" I'm telling you I'm to old to be spanked!! Fine then if you don't what to live by our rules you can move out "states Katt"

I can't do that I don't have a job. It's your choice "says George" "OK, OK" I'll take the spanking , its not fair, but I'll take it. Then come to me "says George" as he sits back on the couch, Sue move slowly towards him, holding her bottom with her hands.

This won't hurt much will it "Sue asks" as George unbuttons her pants and lowers them to her knees. George grabs hold of her and lowers her over his lap with Sue crying "PLEASE GEORGE DON'T SPANK ME TO HARD I WON'T DO IT AGAIN" With that he grabs her right arm and with his other hand lowers her panties "OH GEORGE PLEASE NOT ON MY BARE BOTTOM PLEASE" "Cries out Sue" .

Yes on your bare bottom, as your mother said to and with that George started to rain down swats down on her bottom one side then the other. SMACK, SMACK, SMACK "OH IT HURTS, IT HURTS BAD "Sue cried out as she starts kicking her legs up and down finally first kicking of her pants then her under pants.

But George keeps spanking her SMACK, SMACK, SMACK. Will you skip classes anymore? He ask her as he turns her bottom red to beet red SMACK, SMACK. "NO, NO I WON'T OH, OH IT HURT" PLEASE STOP "Sue cries" And no more cheating right "states George" as the swats keep coming down fast and hard SMACK, SMACK .

"NO MORE I PROMISE" PLEASE STOP PLEASE!!!! Finally after about five minute George stops spanking Sue and lets her up .It take her no time to jump up and start to dance around the room like a Indian like her mother rubbing her bottom and crying out loud, after a while George took hold of Sue a held her in his arms till she was crying softly giving her a kiss and saying her punishment was over saying good night to her telling to kiss her mother good night and for her to go to bed.

Telling her that her mother will bring something to her room for her to eat when she got to her room she lay on her belly and rubbed her sore bottom thinking to herself that tonight George became dad from now on !! The End.

With the key to her moped between her teeth, Lyndsey pulled the zip on her bum bag and peered inside. 'Well, whaddya know? I thought I'd run out.' She smirked and plucked out a packet of Benson & Hedges, handing them to me. 'there's a lighter in here somewhere too.'

'That might come in handy.' I said as I took out a cigarette and put it my mouth.
It was a cold morning. I mimicked smoking with my warm exhales freezing in the cold air. 'Hurry up.' I said 'I'd like to light this before I reach middle age.'
'D'you want a smack?' Lyndsey smirked without looking away from the contents of her bum bag, I grinned 'Yes, please. If it gets this cigarette lit.'

'It can be arranged, you know?' She continued rummaging.
'Well, unless you can arrange it any faster than you can find your lighter in that crappy bum bag, I don't think I've got much to worry about.'

'Watch it. I like this bag.' Lyndsey's tone had become notably more cautionary, which made it all the more irresistible not to provoke her further. 'Yeah, it's a classy bag, that. Very chic. And, best of all, it goes with the rest of what you're wearing.' I said, straight-faced but suppressing a smirk.

Lyndsey stopped rifling through the bum bag and stood up. 'And what's wrong with what I'm wearing?' She grinned accusingly. 'Nothing.' I offered diplomatically. 'Millets have some great stuff.' Lyndsey face broke out in a wicked grin. 'That's it!' She walked towards me quickly.

'What?' I said, retreating. 'What're you doing?' 'You're going to get that smack.'
'No. Come on.' I laughed, pushing her hands away as she reached out to grab me. 'Lyndsey! Calm down. Stop it. Now!'

Lyndsey continued to advance. 'Not until you've had your licks. Come on, don't be a baby.' Laughing, I quickly backed away to the far end of the barn with the intention to turn her around and run behind her out into the yard. 'Licks! Where did the 's' come from, all of a sudden? I thought you said 'a smack'?'

'Stop pissing about. You're not getting away with it.' She laughed.
Lyndsey was moving me slowly into a corner. I feinted one way and then the other and tried to slip past her but she reached out and grabbed the arm of my jacket, jerking me back. 'Lyndsey! Wait.'

Lyndsey let go of my jacket sleeve and transferred her grip to my ear.
'Owwww. Lyndsey!' I squealed melodramatically. Her grip was firm but not hurtful.
'Bend over.' She commanded. 'Let go of my ear.' 'Bend…' She repeated, gently twisting my ear. '..over.'

I bent forward, my fingers attempted to release her grip on my ear.
'Now, repeat after me.' She announced in an even voice. 'There's nothing wrong with Lyndsey's clothes'. She punctuated each word with an unexpectedly firm slap to which I let out a genuine squeal. The cigarette tumbled from my lips.

'Her clothes are very nice.' She continued to slap me, which caused me to squeal all the more. I can only assume that she thought I was finding the whole situation amusing and that I was over-acting to deride her feeble efforts, because her slaps became dramatically harder. 'And so is Lyndsey.' She snapped.

Lyndsey let go of my ear and I immediately retreated a few steps from her. She couldn't have failed to see the expression of wide eyed surprise across my face.
'What's the matter with you?' I spat. Lyndsey could immediately see that I was not amused and grinned apologetically. 'Oh, God, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to…

"You always have to take it too far, don't you?' I growled. She bared her palms defensively. 'Sorry. Ok? I didn't know it would hurt you that much.' 'It's ok.' I muttered, retrieving my cigarette from the stable floor.

'Did I really hurt you?' Lyndsey looked both amused and concerned at the same time. 'No. It's just you said 'a smack' and I thought you meant 'a smack'. It's-' I was completely over-reacting and trailed off as reason to a hold. 'It's ok. Forget it.'

'No. I'm sorry. I got carried away. I didn't mean to hurt you like that.' She shrugged, sheepishly. 'It didn't hurt.' I announced calmly. 'It's just…the sounds you were making- Look, I didn't mean to hit you that hard.'

'It's no problem. I just wasn't expecting it. You didn't hit me that hard and it didn't hurt. So, there's no problem.'

'No. I'm..' Lyndsey's eyes fell to her feet. 'I'm really, really sorry.'
'Forget it.' I didn't want Lyndsey to feel bad about something that I had initiated. If anyone was at fault it was me.

'No. Really. I really want you to know. That I'm really sorry I spanked you.'
Suddenly a flush of concern coursed through my body. I glanced up at Lyndsey. 'Spank me? You didn't 'spank' me!'

'I did though, didn't I?' Lyndsey muttered, her eyes fixed on the area of barn floor between her feet. 'We're going to have to tell Mrs. Marshall about this.' 'What?' I asked.

'We've got to.We're going to have to tell Mrs. Marshall and all the girls that I spanked you and you moaned like a little baby.' Lyndsey's mouth was beginning to curl at the corner.

Lyndsey's poorly suppressed laughter came flooding out from under her hanging dark curls. 'We're going to have to tell Mrs. Marshall, all the girls, Miss Harrison-Smith, the newspapers and the local news that I, a girl ten months younger than you, spanked your bottom because you were disobedient and deserved it.' 'You're bloody evil sometimes.' I hissed.

I could usually read Lyndsey, but sometimes she would say or do things that made me wonder if I knew really knew her at all. Since I had been at Priory, Lyndsey and I had been spending more and more time together. Within a few days we had become an inseparable pair. I was certain everyone thought we were boyfriend and girlfriend from the first day, but the truth was I had never managed to maneuver the circumstances where we might get intimate with each other.

I was certain that she liked me as much as I liked her but I was reluctant to tell her as it was difficult to gauge her mood and the prospect of rejection wade my stomach turn. Choosing the moment was becoming a problem I had not expected.

Recently she had been especially offhand and dismissive without any particular reason. The situation was made all the more agonizing as we were virtually always alone and Lyndsey was an incorrigible flirt with me.

However, she didn't seem to ever want to take it any further. After three days I was beginning to suspect that our relationship was nothing more to her than an amusing diversion that would endure the week of our work experience and no longer.

Either that or she considered me a best friend rather than a potential boyfriend and, if that was the case, I might as well never have met her at all. I cradled the fallen cigarette in my palm with the reverence of some obscure religious artifact and blew the dust off it. 'Take another one.' Lyndsey said

'It's ok.' 'It's been on the ground. It's got horse shit on it. Take another one.' She sounded almost matronly. We exchanged a long glance.

Lyndsey stood up and walked over to me. She took the cigarette out of my hand and crushed it, letting it sprinkle onto the stable floor. She rested her hands on my hips and pulled me towards her, her hands gently circling around my bottom. Then she kissed me. She kissed me, I stress. As by this time, I was a lifeless as a mannequin.

For a moment there seemed to be no sound at all except Lyndsey's breathing and the creaking of my leather jacket against her body warmer. Slowly I began to appreciate what was happening and slipped my arms around her, warming my hands against her back underneath her body warmer. Then, as soon as it had begun, it was over. She stepped back with an assuring look in her eye.

She took two cigarettes out of the packet and lit them both, handing one to me.
There was along awkward pause as I fumbled for something suitable to say.

'Do you want to be my girlfriend?' Clearly that wasn't it. Lyndsey laughed. "I thought I already was.' I shook my head at my own stupidity. 'I'm sorry…I'm…an idiot.'

'I know you are. It's ok.' She smiled. 'I'm not going to give you a spanking for being an idiot. We'll be here all night.' I rolled my eyes and gave her a squeeze. 'you're never gonna let me forget that, are you?' 'Not on your life.' She chuckled 'How long have we been here?'

I checked my watch. It was nearly ten fifteen. We were supposed to be cleaning out the empty stables across the yard. But we knew that if we smoked in those stables we could be seen from the main house. We were supposed to report to the main house by ten to let Mrs. Marshall know that we had finished cleaning those stables. In truth, we hadn't really started. 'Shit. It's ten fifteen.' I gasped.

I moved to throw my cigarette away but paused upon seeing Lydsey's frown.
'I had to pay for that you know!' She snapped, taking a long draw on her cigarette.
She extinguished it against the door beam at the entrance to the barn. The barn was barely a year old and in immaculate condition with the exception of the cigarette burns Lyndsey had recently added to the doorway.

I quietly hoped these would be discovered at the end of the week after we had gone back to school because I couldn't quite figure out how to tell Lyndsey to stop doing it..

The only reason I was smoking at all was to be with Lyndsey. The warnings we had been given by Mrs. Marshall on our arrival about lighted cigarettes being anywhere near any of the barns had certainly had the desired effect on me, if not on Lyndsey. Even if we were caught, I was pretty sure we could be apologetic enough to get away with it as far as Mrs. Marshall was concerned. Well, maybe just the once.

Penny Marshall was middle aged and softly spoken; she had a supremely relaxed attitude to the operation of the riding school. The rules within the school were strict, but it was inconceivable that she would or could ever carry them out herself. Perhaps that is why she employed Suzanne Harrison-Smith as her chief instructor. Suzanne was younger than Penny and considerably more uptight. She blatantly regarded stable hands as life forms beneath her contempt.

Maybe I was just a little paranoid, but I was convinced that she seemed to reserve particular contempt for me. As was typical of my vanity, however, I just continued to tell myself that the reason she singled me out with derogatory remarks on the cleanliness of my boots and allotted me the dirtiest manual jobs was because, obviously, she fancied me.

'This is a school with a reputation.' She would snap. 'Instructors and stable hands alike have an image to maintain and you are failing to do it. If I had the authority, I would have you in the boot room from five to eight. Maybe then you would appreciate what I mean when I say 'clean'.

Suzanne hated the fact that my boots were always dirty; she hated the fact that I wiped my hands on my jodhpurs. She insisted all the stable hands dressed the same and looked immaculate, especially when students came into the yard. She took a particular dislike to my black leather jacket.

Suzanne had suggested that if I continued to wear the jacket that I should be forbidden from borrowing boots from the boot room and should provide my own. Fortunately, Penny had dismissed this ridiculous request for its base pettiness.
I liked working at Priory and I had requested to stay on after the school term, purely because Lyndsey wanted to train as an instructor and I could be with her. The only thing that dissuaded me was the thought getting into trouble with Suzanne.

"Quick. Get rid of it!' Lyndsey whispered.
'What are you two doing?' Suzanne Harrison-Smith was walking across the yard towards us. I held the smoldering cigarette behind my back as she approached.
'You two are supposed to be cleaning the small stables. What are you doing over here?' She snapped.

Lyndsey grabbed her bum bag and zipped it closed. 'We've finished.'
Suzanne barked before the words had left Lyndsey's mouth 'You haven't even started. I've just come from there. It's a disgrace.' I was reluctant to say anything that might draw attention to me, if she failed to see the plume of cigarette smoke rising from behind me then she would certainly smell it within moments.

'We'll go and start it now.' Lyndsey offered.
'No. You'll tell me what you are doing in here.' Suzanne barked. 'What's that?'
I opened my mouth but nothing came out. Suzanne sniffed the air like a jackal. Anyone within fifty feet could smell that we had been smoking, but Suzanne was determined to extend our discomfort.

Suzanne was tall and slim. She was always dressed immaculately as if she was just about to take part in a championship dressage event, regardless of the fact that Priory was a small town riding club with more stable hands than horses. Her long hair was always held perfectly in a tight net, her jodhpurs were always clean and her boots had a constant shine. Even the buttons on her tunic were polished.

The strap on her helmet always appeared to be too tight, pinching her chin and making her admittedly pretty face sometimes appear a bit squat and flushed. She carried herself with the air of someone to whom money was not an issue and judging by the car she drove and her double barreled name we all considered it safe to assume that she came from a wealthy family.

Despite all these plus points, her attitude and demeanor were so unpleasant that they almost had their own aroma and just being in her presence was something disliked equally by the stable hands and the students alike. I found her unlike any woman I had ever come across, part of me found her strangely fascinating. But I just couldn't ever visualize what she would look like with a warm smile on her face.

Everything she seemed to say was contradictory or just plain arrogant. It often took an immense effort not to answer back, but I knew this was something she was specifically trying to provoke people to do and resisting her seemed to irritate her.

Irritating Suzanne was a minor delight. Suzanne reached around behind me and grabbed my wrist. Her fingers gripped tightly and pulled my arm out from behind me. She gaped down at the cigarette smoldering between my fingers.
'Smoking!' She gasped, as if it was the first time she had ever heard of it.
I said nothing because there was nothing I could say, save putting the blame on Lyndsey.

Lyndsey looked at me worriedly. She was carefree about most things, but she really wanted to be an instructor and being caught for an offence like this was not going to help her cause in the slightest. Her eyes were almost accusing, almost asking me 'why didn't you put it out when I told you?'

Suzanne glanced at the cigarette burns on the new door beam and then back at me. 'You stupid boy.'

'You are in big trouble.' Suzanne muttered and she marched across the yard towards the well, dragging me in her wake by my wrist after her. She was angry, but I was still surprised by the ease with which she was pulling me.
Between my fingers the cigarette still smoldered. She held my hand over the half full bucket of water standing beside the well. 'Put it out.' She ordered.

I dropped the cigarette in the bucket and it fizzled out.'I said, put it out! Not put it in the bucket! Take it out!' she glared at me so intensely that my legs began to tremble.

I took the butt out of the bucket and stood there, trembling and waiting for her next command. I wondered if she could see that I was shaking and then noticed that my shadow was shimmering against the courtyard. I could feel the heat in my face rise as I considered how she must be seeing me, blushing and trembling like a frightened rabbit in front of her like that. 'Get rid of it!'

I put the sodden cigarette butt in my jacket pocket. Suzanne shook her head with utter disdain, she couldn't have looked more disgusted if I head eaten it. 'Come on. You're going to see Mrs. Marshall.' Suzanne let go of my wrist. She turned and glared across at Lyndsey. 'You too. Come on.'

The main house had a dank and musty smell. It struck me as the house of an eighty year old with its grandfather clocks and worn fast carpets. Lyndsey and I stood in the hallway outside Mrs. Marshall's office while Suzanne went inside.

Suzanne had ordered us not to speak or even look at each other, a command which I was only too keen to obey as she had genuinely scared me earlier. Lyndsey was a little more casual about it and continued to whisper to me under her breath. If anything, her composure actually added to the intimidation of the situation.

Everyone seemed to have a more mature perspective on the situation than me. Lyndsey had a great deal more to lose than me and yet she was the one trying to keep me calm. 'We'll probably just get a warning.' She whispered.

From inside the muffled sound of Suzanne's voice could be heard, trying to escalate the situation and the calmer sound of Penny Marshall imploring her to maintain a reasonable perspective.

As the intensity of Suzanne's voice increased. I found myself reaching down to hold Lyndsey's hand. This was a purely selfish action as I was simply looking for comfort, but maybe she thought I was attempting to offer her some.

These thoughts were quashed as the door to Penny's office creaked. Suzanne emerged; she glanced coolly down at the pair of us and then continued on down the corridor.

Penny pulled the door open. 'Suzanne. You won't forget to move the jeeps at eleven?' 'No. Mrs. Marshall.' She replied
'You can just come in and get the keys.' Suzanne nodded and walked out into the yard. 'Ok. Lyndsey. Do you want to come in first?'

Lyndsey gave my hand a reassuring squeeze, released it and then gave me affectionate pat on the behind. She smiled almost imperceptibly and followed Penny into her office.

I waited outside for almost twenty minutes. The events of the past half hour were swimming through my head. Lyndsey had smacked me, teased me, then kissed me but then she had seen me genuinely quivering in front of Suzanne. Certainly, she had held my hand just moments before, but would she still want to know me after what had happened? It was my fault she was in trouble, if I had just put the cigarette out when she had told me to..

Suddenly, the door opened and Lyndsey came out. I looked her in the eye for any clue of what had gone on in there. She rolled her eyes, but didn't smile. She looked a touch ashen faced.

'You can go home now, Lyndsey.' Penny said, seriously. 'I'd like to wait. If that's ok?' Lyndsey zipped up her body warmer.

'Alright. You can wait outside the house.' Penny's eyes came to rest on me. 'Can you come inside, Please?' I shuffled into her office reluctantly and she closed the door behind me.

Other than the first day, I hadn't spoken to Penny Marshall. She was a very no-nonsense, practical woman. She was composed and controlled, very much the opposite of Suzanne. Penny wore a pair of old marble washed jeans and her boots were speckled with dirt. Her blouse appeared to have been ironed with those very same boots.

Her curly brown hung freely around her shoulders and her fringe almost obscured hey eyes altogether. She was slight with a warm smile. She stood officiously behind her desk which I took as a promising sign that our meeting would be brief.
'Come over here. I won't bite.' She muttered.

I walked towards her desk and stood across from her directly behind a tall studded leather chair. The tick and tocks of numerous clocks rang out through the room without any particular synchronicity. She perched on the windowsill and cradled her knee in her hands. She seemed unconcerned that her boot was leaving a dark stain on the wall.

'So, are you going to tell me it wasn't your fault?' She smiled, sympathetically.
'No.' I replied quickly 'Good.' She nodded 'Now you were definitely here on the first day because I remember your face. So you must have listened to my rules on smoking in the yard. Do you remember that?'

'Yes.'
'Ok. So what are the rules on smoking?'
'You don't'
'Ok. So why don't we allow smoking in the yard?'
'Because of the fire hazard.'
Penny looked at me for a few moments. 'So, why were you smoking?'
I looked down at the toes of my boots 'I don't know'
'It's pretty pathetic, isn't it?' She said, quietly.

I nodded, not even having the decency to look her in the eye. I could feel my face reddening. 'I understand that you might want to apply for a job here after school term. Is that right?' 'Yes.' I mumbled
'This isn't going to help that now, is it?' She shrugged.
'No it isn't.'

'Do you still think you'll want to apply to work here after school term?'
'I don't know.'
'Well, you either do or you don't.' She asked, standing up and placing her hands on her hips. 'I'm not saying you can't, I'm just saying that you need to make a decision.'

'I do.' I said. Then, conscious that she was far from convinced, I continued. 'I do want to work here after the term and I'm really sorry about the smoking. It was really stupid and obviously it'll never happen again..' 'No. It won't.' she interjected.

I continued 'So, Whatever I can do you make up for it, I will. I really like it here and I want to stay.' Penny continued to look at me with an unnerving intensity. I…I don't know what else to say.'

'Alright.' She nodded. 'What I'm going to do is not report this on your work experience card, ok? Now I shouldn't really be doing this but, despite this one blot on your record, you're a good worker and I'd like to have you here to help out in the New Year. But you must understand that what you have done must never happen again. Never. Do you understand?'

'Yeah.'
'Ok. So that's my part of the bargain.' She said, unbuttoning the cuff of her blouse and rolling up her sleeve. 'Alright?'
'Yeah.' I replied, a little unsure what to say next.
I could only guess that Lyndsey had taken the blame for virtually everything that had happened, this was the only explanation to why I was about to leave Penny's office without so much as a cross word. If I had known that I was just going to be made to feel a little foolish then I would not have overreacted so badly in front of Lyndsey.

I turned to leave.
'Where do you think you're going?' Penny asked, almost stifling a laugh.
'I was-' I stood on the spot, obviously I had missed something.
'Come on. We're not finished.' Penny walked out from behind the desk and stood beside me. She placed a hand behind my back and pushed me firmly towards the studded chair. She took a firm grip of the collar of my jacket and pulled it forward, pulling me with it.

Suddenly I found myself bent over the back of the chair. I felt the warmth of her hand as it slipped between my legs, cupping the curves of my bottom. She pushed me forward on the back of the chair until my feet dangled just above the floor.

During this process, neither I nor Penny said a word. The room was quiet but for the sound of clocks ticking and the creaking of my jacket against the edge of the chair. Penny pulled my jacket forward almost over my head, the material rucking around my underarms and pulling my arms out together in front of me. I could feel the cold air on my exposed back and belly as my top was pulled up towards my shoulders as it became knotted within the folds of my jacket.

I was unbalanced; I stretched out my toes to reach for the ground, my boots squeaked together as my feet kicked gently to reach for the carpet. My jodhpurs pulled tight across my backside and my arms hung helplessly in front of me, bound in the knots of my jacket.

Suddenly the silence was shattered as I heard the dull slap of Penny's hand hitting my exposed bottom. I gasped in shock.

Then another. Immediately, I felt ridiculous to have allowed myself to be so easily maneuvered into this position, and then I suddenly became aware that if I did nothing, Penny would begin to believe that she was doing this against my will.
Another. Then another. She was smacking me much harder than I would have thought her capable of.

In my mind the situation was becoming more urgent, I had to quickly struggle free and stop her even if it meant hitting out at her. I was becoming angry. Angry that she could presume to do this to me and even more angry that she was actually doing it.

I began to rack for excuses. Once I had stood up and explained to Penny that this was not going to happen, I would obviously need to explain exactly how the situation got this far. My mind churned through possible explanations as I began to twist my body and kick my feet in an effort to stand up.

Penny tightened her grip on my collar and placed one of her legs behind my heels, anchoring my legs straight against the back of the chair. Suddenly, I was unable to generate any leverage to struggle free.

I felt fear and frustration course through my chest and legs and, for the first time considered that I might not be capable of breaking free. My hands flailed helplessly in front of me. As I struggled, her smacking became harder and faster. I was stunned at how quickly the resilience began to drain from me. The situation had already been reached where, whatever happened now, I could not explain away the fact that she was giving me a spanking.

Fear gripped me at the realization that I physically could not break free, that I couldn't stop her from humiliating me in this way. In that instant, my perception of myself collapsed. I could picture myself as Penny probably saw me now, as an exposed bottom and a pair of kicking feet, helplessly twitching after each blow.

I thought about how impossibly naive I had been to believe that Penny could ever have thought of me as an equal. I had genuinely believed that she possibly thought I was attractive or interesting. Now I had arrived at the real truth in the rudest manner possible. She was an adult. I was nothing more than a disobedient child. Her initial and continuing opinion of me was no doubt little more than that. Was this how Suzanne saw me? Was this how Lyndsey saw me?

With this revelation, my struggling stopped and, subsequently so did the frequency and force of her blows. They merely became regular and more controlled. Within moments any thoughts I had about breaking free had vanished to be replaced and my mind rang with acceptance.

Now that I had resigned myself to the fact that I could not stop Penny, my reasoning now was to convince her that her punishment was working. My efforts to repress my squeals of pain stopped and my body loosened against her grip. She removed her bracing leg upon noticing that my feet had stopped kicking. With each blow, I whimpered and tears now began to stream freely down my now burning cheeks. I focused on the clock sitting directly on the desk in front of me and watched as the second hand slowly counted down.

For a further three minutes Penny continued to deliver hard smacks on my behind, with each one I lost a little more of my dignity. My whimpers and gasps became whispers and moans. I didn't care how ridiculous I looked or how pathetic it would appear when Lyndsey inevitably found out about it. I just wanted Penny to stop.
'Owww.' I moaned. 'I'm sorry.'

My whimpering did nothing to slow Penny's rhythm. Suddenly, the door to the office creaked. Penny stopped momentarily. I could see nothing but the desk in front of me with the small carriage clock counting down the seconds and minutes.
'What is it, Suzanne?' I heard Penny say as if what Suzanne was seeing was the most everyday occurrence.

Suzanne didn't seem to say anything. There followed a long uncomfortable pause broken only by my sniffs. In my minds eye, I could see Suzanne standing by the door, watching Penny standing over me with her blouse sleeve rolled up and my limp body draped across the back of the chair. For a moment I considered that Suzanne might not notice that it was me, but then I knew that there was no way she would fail to notice my jacket. 'Is there something you want, Suzanne?' Penny asked again.

'Yes.' Suzanne replied unsurely. 'I need to move the jeeps.'
'Of course you do. The keys are in the cabinet.'
I could hear the sound of Suzanne's boots against the carpet as she slowly approached us. She continued past the desk towards the window and opened the key cabinet. Then she seemed to linger there. I knew she was looking down at me, I could feel her glaring down at the back of my head, probably suppressing a self satisfied grin.
'Is there something else, Suzanne?' Penny asked impatiently.

'No.' Suzanne murmured, clearly transfixed by what she had discovered this morning.'No. I'll, er…. I'll go and move them.'
'Ok.' Penny muttered and watched Suzanne as she walked slowly out of the room.
The door closed. A second passed on the carriage clock. Then Penny began smacking me again. The interlude only made her blows hurt more. I sank my fingernails into the cuffs of my jacket and watched the clock as she continued for a further two and a half minutes.

My earlier resilience was shattered, by the time she stopped I would have done anything she asked to avoid another beating like that.
Penny pulled me backwards off the edge of the chair. My legs were shaking as I felt the ground beneath my feet for the first time in ten minutes. I stood there stunned by what had happened, not even thinking to tidy my crumpled clothes. Penny pulled down my top and smoothed out the creases in my jacket.

Now the punishment had been administered she was quite gentle. I continued to stand there with my hands by my sides as she leaned against the back of the chair over which she had just spanked me. I could feel the heat of shame emanating from my face and the tears continued to roll down my cheeks. I sniffed. My backside tingled and felt vulnerable and exposed. I felt as if anybody I would come into contact with would instantly know that I had been spanked as surely as if I was wearing a notice across my rear. She looked down at me in exactly the same way as she had looked at me the very first time I had met her, with a warm smile and accommodating eyes. I, by contrast looked back at her with wide, obedient, frightened eyes. Reddened from crying.

'So, what have we learned about smoking?' she asked.
The caution in her voice brought my hands behind my back to cage my bruised backside. I gently tried to stroke some feeling back into my bottom. 'I won't ever do it again.' I blurted. 'I'm sorry. I'm sorry.'
'Are you going to be alright getting home?'
'Yeah.' I gulped.
'Ok. I think Lyndsey's waiting for you. You can go home now and we'll see you in the morning.'
I turned and walked out of the office.

Outside, in the corridor, Suzanne was returning to the office with the jeep keys. I must have cut a forlorn figure walking towards her with my face still burning with embarrassment and my eyes still pink from crying. I tried to avoid eye contact but found myself unable to avoid glancing up at her.

Suzanne had stopped and was staring at me with an unnerving expression of equanimity across her face. I looked away quickly and moved to walk past her only for her to sidestep in front of me. I quickly moved to the opposite side only for her to sidestep again. She must have seen my shoulders sag. 'Well, I can only hope that taught you a modicum of common sense.' She sighed.
I said nothing in return.

'Have the decency to look at me when I'm talking to you.' She muttered placing a gloved hand under my chin and lifting my face directly into her intense eye line.
She scanned my face, clearly amused by the startled expression which had been indelibly ironed into my features during the last twenty minutes. A brief moment in time which had turned my world upside down.

'I just want you to know.' She smiled 'that if I ever catch you smoking, skipping your duties or behaving in a manner inappropriate to a staff member of this school. I will have no compunction about repeating that little scene and not necessarily within the privacy of the office. I'm sure if the stable hands and students of this school were to see what I have just seen, you wouldn't be so eager to be difficult.'

As I looked into her eyes I could see that there was nothing Suzanne wanted more than to make good on her threat.
'Do you understand?' She asked, firmly.
'Yes.'
'Yes?' She frowned.
'Yes, Miss Harrison-Smith.' I said, hurriedly.
'Better. You'd better go home now. I think Lyndsey's still waiting for you outside. I trust, in the morning, that you won't still be wearing that jacket?' She muttered, flicking the lapel contemptuously.

She released my chin and continued past me towards the office. I walked out into the car park on unsteady legs where Lyndsey was waiting for me. She was sitting on her moped smoking a cigarette, a prospect I would never entertain for the rest of my life. She glanced over as I walked gingerly towards her.

'Where the Hell have you been? I've been waiting here for twenty bloody minutes!' her expression changed quickly as I approached and she noticed the redness in my eyes.
'Are you alright?' She asked, rising to her feet and walking towards me. 'Have you been crying?'

I was annoyed that she would see me like this. Still shell shocked by what had just happened; my lips proceeded to say exactly what was on my mind without a thought for quality control.

'Well, it's alright for you. You've had twenty minutes to get yourself together.'
'What do you mean 'it's alright for me''? She asked, querulously. 'What have I done, all of a sudden?'

I glared at her, conscious that all I really wanted from her was a comforting hug. My feelings were completely out of my control. 'Nothing, it's just that you're always so bloody casual about everything. You're acting like nothing's happened.'

She chuckled and shook her head slowly. 'You need to get things in perspective. It's no big deal.' 'It might not be a big deal to you…' I started.

'It's not….because it isn't..' She reached out and gave my hand a squeeze. 'It's not worth crying about. Jesus, she's just reading you the riot act on fire safety.'
I couldn't believe Lyndsey could be so blasé. 'Yeah. For about a minute; but what about the other twenty? You don't think that's a big deal?'

'I'm not sure what you mean.' Lyndsey frowned. 'What did you get for another twenty minutes?'
'The same as you.' I replied, incredulously 'a smacked arse.'
'You're saying she smacked your bum?' Lyndsey asked suspiciously
'Yeah.' I nodded.
'She smacked your bum for twenty minutes?'
'Yeah.' I murmured, my face reddening once again at the memory.
'She didn't touch me.' Lyndsey frowned. She clearly didn't believe a word I was saying.

My head throbbed. In an instant, I felt as I Lyndsey had been transported a millions miles away from me. 'But she must have.'
'I'm telling you she didn't. It's one of those things I can be pretty sure of.'
'But-' I sniffed, trailing off.
'Are you seriously telling me she spanked you full on for twenty minutes?' Lyndsey's expression became harder as she began to believe that I serious. 'Why did you let her do it?' 'I didn't let her…she just did it.'

Lyndsey scanned my face incredulously.
'How?' 'She had me over the chair. I-'
'There's no way I'd let her do that to me.' She snorted.
'I-'
'Is this a wind up or did that really happen?' She asked with a disturbing air of finality.
'It's not a wind up.'
'I don't believe you.' She said, shaking her heat at me with disdain. 'Lyndsey.'

Lyndsey pulled on her helmet and buckled the strap under her chin .'Look. I'll see you tomorrow. I've got to get home.'
She turned the throttle on her moped and disappeared through the gate. I watched as she slowly shrank out of view over the hill as I thought about facing the next morning possibly without Lyndsey and possibly with Suzanne waiting for me, eager to compound my degradation.

I walked unenthusiastically towards Karen's exceptionally badly parked Metro with my stomach in knots. I had tried numerous times to phone Lyndsey the night before but she was either genuinely out or was refusing to speak to me. When I remembered the lingering, sickened look of disappointment she had given me yesterday morning I sorely doubted that she would ever speak to me again. Since I had begun working at the Priory I had looked forward to each day as, this morning apart, I had been becoming progressively to Lyndsey.

Without her, the prospect seemed hollow and meaningless. Earlier that day she had beguiled me with a single kiss only for the moment to be shattered by Suzanne's blatant bullying and then compounded by my idiocy in actually admitting to Lyndsey that I had been spanked by Penny when there had been no need to do so.

Recollections of the incident had haunted me all night, most specifically of the fear that had coursed through my trembling legs upon realizing that I was unable to stop her from completing the punishment. The still sore surface of my backside began to slowly fizz at the memory.
I had no intention of telling Karen what had happened. There seemed little point to this having overheard a telephone conversation the night before which I had become convinced was Penny explaining to Karen why she had chosen to give me a spanking as opposed to the patronizing, dull but comparatively painless twenty minute fire safety lecture Lyndsey had received.

From the tone of Karen's voice it was clear that she sympathized with Penny's given predicament much more than mine. She had ended the conversation by thanking Penny for not noting the incident on my report card and then proceeded not to speak to me all evening. 'Come on. I'll be late.' Karen sighed as I lazily bucked my seatbelt.

We travelled in silence. After five dreadfully awkward minutes, Karen turned on the radio in a desperate effort to shatter the uncomfortable quiet in the car. It was Jamelia singing 'Superstar' and, as I listed, I couldn't think of anyone who fitted that description less than me. My boots shone against the footrest. I had spend hours scrubbing and polishing them the night before.

I was convinced Suzanne was certain to make good on her threat on any grounds possible and I had made every effort to ensure she didn't get the opportunity. My jodhpurs felt tight against my legs, they appeared to have shrunk a little in the wash but they were undisputedly whiter than white. The only question she could possibly raise was that I was still insisting on wearing my jacket. This, I reasoned, would irritate her, but not enough to warrant a beating.

She surely couldn't be that mean. Thirty five minutes later, as we pulled into the Priory car park I felt compelled to say something. I need to ask you something.' 'Then you'd better ask quickly. I'm twenty minutes late already.' Karen muttered distantly as she teased her hair in the rear view mirror.
'How angry would you get if I quit this job?' Angry enough that you'd be here the next morning, begging to get it back.' She levelled a warning glare at me.

Look. Don't even think about it. I mean it.' 'They don't like me here.'
'Then you'd better make sure they begin to like you today.'
'I don't know if I can.'
'You will.' She snapped. 'That's all there is to it.

For as long as you're my responsibility, I will make it my life's goal to prove that you can stay in a job for longer than three weeks. I don't know what you've done here to make yourself so unpopular.. .' She looked away at this point in a transparent attempt to conceal the lie. '..but you can bloody well, un-do it. I went to a lot of trouble to get you this job, mostly because you said you wanted it so badly and don't you forget that my work is fifteen miles in the opposite direction. I don't get a kick driving you here every morning. You might at least show a little gratitude.'

'I know.' I nodded weakly. 'Do you? All I'm saying is that a lot of people expend a lot of effort on your behalf and the least you could do is make an effort of your own. D'you understand me?'
'Yeah.' I sighed. 'I'd like to think you do. I really would.' She muttered sarcastically as she slowed the Metro to a stop across three open parking spaces.

I glanced out of the window as Lyndsey's moped passed. I watched as she parked it near the bike rack and removed her helmet. Karen was completely right; of course, my reputation here had been dented, but not shattered. If I could reassure Lyndsey that the situation with Penny had been a freak, isolated incident and was never likely to happen again, then my life and my future at Priory might not be the impending disaster I felt it was turning into. 'I've gotta go. I'm twenty minutes late.'
Karen smiled at me for the first time that morning and then drove off.

As I approached I could see Lyndsey was not looking at me, but neither did she see was in any particular hurry to turn her back on me and storm away towards the equipment room.
I could see that a cold reception was unavoidable, but she was clearly presenting me with the opportunity to do something about it. 'Hi.' I said meekly. 'Hi, yourself.'

For an awkward moment, neither of us could think of anything to say.
'We didn't think you'd turn up today.' She replied without any perceptible emotion.
I had expected a degree of frostiness, but Lyndsey's demeanor was below freezing
'We?' I asked.
She didn't respond. She zipped her moped keys in her bum bag, gathered her helmet and began walking slowly towards the equipment room. I followed.'Who's we?' I asked again.
'Me and Lillian and Elaine.'

Upon hearing this, my heart began to beat a little faster. I had started to become friendly with Lyndsey perhaps purely because she had fallen out with Lillian and Elaine on the first day. Now, it appeared all the old wounds had been healed and it was for certain that I was being fingered as the scapegoat for this not having happened sooner. 'Did you tell them what happened?'
She snorted with amusement as she pinned back her hair with a large red clip. 'Well, I tried. But they didn't believe me.'

I relief I felt was mired slightly by the fact that Lyndsey had confided my terrible secret to two girls she had openly admitting to hating a day ago. 'You didn't have to tell them.'
'I know I didn't. But then I decided I wanted to.' She began, and then on noticing that I had said nothing in return. 'Look, they saw us get taken into the Main House by Suzanne and they asked me what for and what had happened. I couldn't not say anything, could I?'
'You could've tried.' I grunted louder than I had intended to. I glanced around to see if anyone had heard us.

Fortunately, it was still relatively early and we were the only ones around.
Lyndsey shrugged. 'It doesn't matter anyway. I get it, ok?' 'Get what?' I asked.
Her head lilted condescendingly. 'Look, I know what you're trying to do.'
She walked into the equipment room and I quickly followed.
'I'm not trying to do anything. What am I trying to do?'
'It's a sympathy thing. You make up this story that the boss has 'spanked' you. But surprise, surprise, there's nobody around to prove it except you and Mrs. Marshall and I can't really go asking her about it, can I? Not now she's buggered off to Canada for six months.'
Lyndsey sat down on the bench and began to unlace her trainers. 'Convenient.'
'So, now you don't believe me either?'
I felt strangely relieved and yet equally troubled.

'I think you're a sympathy seeker. You couldn't wait to feed me all that crap from the first day you got here.' She affected a suitably whining voice 'Nobody wants to be friends with me because I live in Rowledge and everyone else here lives in Farnham. Everybody looks down on me because I don't have enough money to buy my own stable clothes. Penny spanked me and not you because she's got it in for me.'
'Oh, Yeah? Why would I lie about something like that?'
'To get my pants off.' She replied while pulling her boots on.
I laughed out loud. 'How is me admitting I got spanked going to get me any closer to getting your pants off?'
'It's your thing, isn't it? You'll think I'll feel sorry for you.' Lyndsey stated matter of factly. 'It's your angle.' 'Who's been putting all this crap in your head? Is it Elaine?'
'I don't want to talk about it any more.' Lyndsey frowned, as she attempted to physically wave the conversation away. 'Is it Elaine?' I repeated.

'Elaine's mum works in Rowledge. She told her that you had a dodgy reputation there.'
'Oh yeah. Dodgy how?' 'I don't know. I didn't ask.'
'Dodgy that I go around telling girls I've been spanked to try and get them to drop their pants for me? I'll tell you what, if that works, then I'm not doing it right, am I?' Lyndsey held my gaze and said nothing.

'Anyway.' I said. 'Somebody else did see.' 'Oh, yeah?'
'Yeah. Suzanne. And she pretty much promised me that she'd do the same thing if I ever stepped out of line. So, all you need to do is stick around and wait for me to make a cock-up while she's around, then you'll know I'm not lying to you.'

For the first time that morning, Lyndsey's face softened. At long last I was finally beginning to feel as thought I was making some progress towards winning back her confidence. This progress was instantly placed in major jeopardy as Lillian's Fiat Panda pulled into the car park. Lillian and Elaine climbed out of the car and hurriedly walked over to us, wearing identical expressions of deep concern upon seeing Lyndsey and myself talking together so openly.

'Hey! Look at Mr shiny boots! All dolled up and nowhere to go. We didn't think you're turn up today.' Elaine sneered. 'Thanks. We've had that conversation already.' I replied.
'Have we had this one?' Elaine grinned and extended her middle finger at me.
I tried to ignore them both, but I could sense Lyndsey had decided that it was time for her conversation with me to stop.
'Lyndsey.' I said reaching out and taking her hand.
'Get a grip Lyns, he's doing it again!' Elaine declared.
'Shut up.' I snapped.
'Don't tell me to shut up, you sad case!' Elaine growled, suddenly softening her tone as she turned to an indecisive Lyndsey... 'Don't fall for it, Lyns. He's just an arsehole.'
Lyndsey paused a moment before letting her hand slip from mine.
'Come on. Let's go.' She whispered.
'Lyndsey?'

'You missed a bit.' Lillian gestured down at my boots with the slightest nod of her head and then kicked up a spray of dirty rainwater which splattered across my once clean jodhpurs and boots.
'Bitch!' I whispered angrily.
Lillian pretended not to notice as she turned and walked away after Lyndsey and Elaine, who now walked together arm in arm.

Just after twelve, Suzanne brought the students into the yard. It was the first time I had seen Suzanne since yesterday and I felt certain she would be eager to find an excuse to approach me but, much to my surprise, she seemed far more interested in marshaling the students than with me.
The Priory was only a small riding school but it had the advantage of being the only school in the area. This allowed Penny Marshall carte blanche to charge whatever tuition fees she saw fit to. The clientele Priory attracted was primarily comprised of rich and pampered college girls all of whom appeared to believe that to look at, let alone speak to a stable hand, was akin to being one. Penny's tiny stables only housed a small number of horses and there were always twice as many students. This didn't seem to matter, however, as the students appeared to have no interest in actually riding, rather than in the act of being seen to be interested in riding. Despite being a genuine rider, it was environment Suzanne thrived in.

I was working in the barn nearest the main house. This was the barn that I should have been cleaning with Lyndsey when I had been caught smoking the cigarette the day before. Across the yard in the new barn I could see Lyndsey, Elaine and Lillian talking and not working, clearly oblivious that Suzanne had brought the students into the yard.

Suzanne was especially intolerant of idle stable hands, particularly when students were in the yard as she felt it presented the school in a poor light. She was probably right and I felt inclined to quickly run over to the new barn and warn Lyndsey that Suzanne was on fast approaching her, even if that would mean that I would be warning Elaine and Lillian as well.

I was working with a girl named Bethany. I had not spoken to her before and I had just assumed this was because she was one of the girls who refused to speak to me since day one.
I looked across at Lyndsey in the new barn. Elaine appeared to be taking a packet of cigarettes out of her coat pocket. My eyes widened in alarm. If Suzanne caught Lyndsey again there was now way she would escape with anything as mild as a fire safety lecture. She would surely be thrown out of the school.

'You're good friends with Lyndsey, aren't you?' Bethany asked, unexpectedly.
'Yeah. Well, I used to be.' I watched as Lillian provided a light for each of them and they stood puffing away unaware that Suzanne was herding the students closer and closer to their position.
'I can't believe she's doing it again.' I muttered to myself under my breath. 'Didn't you get in trouble for smoking yesterday?' 'Yeah. We both did.'
'What happened?' She asked, honestly.

Bethany's unassuming directness was appealing to the point that I was almost tempted to tell her exactly what had happened. But, then I considered that if Elaine had told Lyndsey I was a sympathy seeker with an 'angle' then she could possibly have told Bethany at some point too. Confessing to Bethany about what Penny had done to me yesterday would just underline Elaine's point.
'It doesn't matter.'
'Oh. Ok.' Bethany shrugged, a little taken aback.
'No. It's not like that.' I said. 'I'm just always saying the wrong things lately. I'm trying to keep out of trouble.'
Suzanne had taken the students to the well in the middle of the yard where the well bucket stood on an old wooden chair. She paused in her speech to drop the empty bucket back down the well.
Unable to contain myself any longer, I hurried across the yard to the new barn where Elaine, Lyndsey and Lillian stood. Elaine glared at me contemptuously. 'Uh oh. He's back.'

'What d'you want?' Lyndsey asked dismissively.
'Look. I don't care about them, but Suzanne is coming over here with some students and if she sees you smoking that, then you'll be in the shit.' 'So what?'
'So what?' I parroted. 'So they'll kick you out!'
Elaine peered around the corner of the barn. 'Shit! He's right. Get rid.'

Both Lillian and Elaine crushed their cigarettes into the stable floor with their heels, being careful to keep their boots over the smeared fragments. Lyndsey continued to smoke. 'Put it out!' I blathered.
'Make me.' She replied, her eyes appeared dead.

I snatched the cigarette from her hand as Suzanne turned the corner. Her face glowered as she saw me there holding Lyndsey's still smoldering cigarette.
'I cannot believe.' She began in a slow and disbelieving voice. 'That anyone could be so stupid.'
Lillian and Elaine looked at each other with poorly suppressed smirks of self satisfaction and then at the ground between their feet. Lyndsey looked at me with concerned eyes.
'Did you not listen to me yesterday?' Suzanne glared at me unblinkingly.

I knew that there was no option for me to pass the blame to someone else, much as I would like to accuse Elaine or Lillian, it would do nothing by make me look weak in Lyndsey's eyes.
'You have made the biggest mistake you will ever make.' Suzanne growled, grabbing my wrist as she had the day before. She marched across the yard with me in tow. I nearly fell as I struggled to keep pace with her. She came to a stop in front of the gathered students waiting by the well and held my wrist and the smoldering cigarette high in the air forcing me to stand on my toes.
'I want to speak to Penny.' I said

'Mrs. Marshall isn't here.' Suzanne replied coolly. My legs began to tremble with anticipation for what was surely about to follow. 'And even if she was, I have been assured by her that I can manage the stable hands as I see fit.'
The collected students began to take an interest as it became clear to them how thoroughly intimidated I was by Suzanne.
She released my wrist 'Put it out!' She snapped.
I moved to stub it out on the edge of the well.
'No. In the bucket.'
'But it's in the well.' I offered weakly.
'Well. Bring it up then.' Suzanne barked.

The students began to laugh at my growing humiliation.
I balanced the cigarette on the edge of the well and began to pull on the chain to raise the bucket. Lyndsey, Elaine and Lillian had come across to watch as had Bethany. Suzanne paid them no attention, she merely watched me as I raised the bucket to the lip of the well, extinguished the cigarette in the water and them put the sodden stub in my jacket pocket together with the one from the day before which I had forgotten to remove. I lowered the bucket in complete silence and then stood in front of Suzanne with my face now burning with embarrassment. My legs were shaking uncontrollably to the point that I was doubtful I could even walk a few steps if asked.

'Bring that over here.' Suzanne ordered, motioning in the direction of the old wooden chair.
I did so without hesitation. Placing the chair in the centre of the yard and standing beside it with my hands shaking by my sides. The collection of students and stable hands gathered around the chair, enthused by the situation that was unfolding.

Suzanne walked over to the chair and sat down. She glanced up at me standing beside her with steely eyes and the faintest hint of a smile.
Suzanne removed her riding glove and placed it on the lip of the well.
'I told you what would happen if you misbehaved again.'
There was a moment of complete silence as she reached up and gripped the collar of my jacket. She pulled me forward towards her. I offered virtually no resistance to her as she bent me across her lap. I knew my fate was inescapable as far as she was concerned and although I had no wish to appear so easily beaten in front of Lyndsey I knew that the fastest way to get through this was to offer Suzanne my complete submission.

There was a collective gasp as the small crowd witnessed Suzanne maneuvering me into this position. I could hear a muddle of similarly breathy declarations of non-comprehension. 'Oh my God.' One of the students whispered slowly with a creeping grin. 'She's not going to…?'

'Oh no! No way.' Another uttered in a gasp that became high pitched as the excitement took hold. A dozen pairs of hands lifted to a dozen open mouths with fingers interlaced. For a generation who identified discipline as period of detention and stern letters to their parents, the concept of a physical punishment was little more to them than a hazy mythology.

A gathered hush rippled through the crowd as they witnessed Suzanne bend my trembling body across her lap in preparation for the beating and it was perceptible that they all understood they were about witness a rare occurrence.

Strangely, I didn't feel the intolerable shame at the prospect of being spanked by Suzanne as I had with Penny. Upon my first meeting with Suzanne I was instantly intimidated by her as I could feel that she knew of my vulnerabilities and the idea that she might one day place me in this position struck me as a virtual inevitability. Penny, by comparison, was not someone I would have expected to consider a spanking a suitable punishment for anyone outside of a Victorian pantry. Why, then, had she considered it such a suitable punishment for me?

I felt a displaced moment of relief that Suzanne had not pulled down my jodhpurs and pants. I had always expected that, when the moment did arrive, that she would find it irresistible not to do this in order to maximize my humiliation.
Suzanne's knees jabbed into my stomach as my head dangled down towards the yard floor. I could almost see the reflection of my face in the immaculate surface of Suzanne's mirror shined riding boots.

I heard a dull slap as Suzanne's bare palm struck my exposed behind. Immediately, the gathered students began to call out with a combination of delight and disbelief. Another. And another.
Suzanne's blows were considerably harder and faster than Penny's, exactly as she had promised they would be. She was spanking me with the same intensity as Penny had during my futile efforts to struggle free. The only difference was that Suzanne appeared to have every intention of maintaining this standard for the duration of my punishment.

My eyes quickly began to fill with tears which trickled down my now glowing cheeks. I squealed freely as the smacks continued to ripple the soft flesh of my bottom. Without making any obvious effort which might suggest to Suzanne that I was struggling, I attempted to lift my boots from the cobbles of the yard. I quickly discovered that when my legs were straight, Suzanne's blows stung the tightened muscles of my buttocks. The pain abated slightly while my legs were bent and my feet were raised a little way off the ground. Although I expected the position might appear ridiculous, relaxing the muscles in my behind helped absorb the sting from Suzanne's blows. Not far away, I could instantly recognize the gasping laughter of Lillian and Elaine as they struggled to draw breath in view of the hilarity of the situation.

Then, I thought of Lyndsey. I couldn't see he and suspected she was probably somewhere behind me. I toyed with the idea that she might see this as a gesture from me to prove to her I was not a liar. But then reason told hold and I knew that there was no way I could ever convince her of anything other than the fact that Suzanne was spanking me now simply because she chose to and because I was helpless to deny her that choice.

Perhaps now, Lyndsey was visualizing me bent over the chair in Penny's office. I was truly uncertain whether she would be feeling sympathy for me now or if she would be laughing at me. I considered the reputation I had strived to maintain and how it had been crippled and now destroyed in this moment. By virtue of this unmistakable image. I felt a fear course through me unlike anything I had felt in Penny's office. There, I had become overwhelmed by a fear upon realizing that I was helpless; a fear of understanding that I couldn't free myself and that I had no choice but to submit to her punishment for as long as she decided it should continue.

With Suzanne, I had understood that I was completely helpless to resist her before she had even begun. But now, here was a new fear. Suzanne was simply spanking me harder than I could bear and I knew I couldn't last much longer. Unlike the day before, I didn't feel that I was capable of enduring the storm of blows raining against my behind. Suzanne was educating me in more ways than one, for as much as I had believed Penny's spanking had been intended to teach me the error of my ways through extreme pain, it was now clear to me that her intention had most probably been with the primary intent to inflict some huge embarrassment and only secondly to cause a little pain. As it had been the first time I had ever been spanked, I had nothing to gauge it against. But now, Suzanne was redefining my perspective with a cruel and frequent accuracy.

Again and again, she struck the same sore areas repeatedly. My body twitched after each stinging strike. After just a few minutes, my fingers were knotted in my hair as I breathlessly moaned to Suzanne to stop. The collected crowd now knew that they were witnessing a spanking intended as a statement of Suzanne's complete authority at Priory.

'Owwww…' I groaned. Any semblance of my self respectability had now been utterly erased by Suzanne's assured display.
'Do it.' I heard an excited voice in the crowd snigger. 'You can't miss this.'
I felt a shadow descend upon me and a familiar figure dropped to one knee in front of just out of the crowd. A self-satisfied voice called out to me. 'Smile.'
I glanced up into the camera lens of Elaine's mobile phone which clicked to assure me that the scene of my complete humiliation had been successfully captured for countless strangers to appreciate. Moments later, a succession of similar clicks followed as have-it-all students and opportunistic stable hands alike made a picture record of the event for themselves.

Suzanne continued for a further five minutes. I watched the ghoulish reflection of my purple face in her boots shrink and grow as I rocked backwards and forwards against the agonizing rhythm of her blows. I felt naked in front of the crowd. No amount of clothing could hide my embarrassment. Unexpectedly, her blows suddenly stuttered and she stopped with and breathy sigh.
'Get up.' She snapped, slowly releasing her grip on the twisted collar of my leather jacket
I had to think to move. For a few seconds I did nothing but sniff away tears and listen to the amused burblings around me. I hesitated because the thought of looking into the eyes of anyone standing around me, especially Lyndsey, made my stomach turn. I remained limp across Suzanne's lap, my head hanging and the heels of my boots still held level with the line of my back with tired, shivering legs. In retrospect, my insistence on maintaining a 'spank me' posture was probably too inviting and one that was mistaken by Suzanne as a gesture of insubordination. 'So you want me to continue?' She stated, quickly electing to resume the punishment with a hard smack at the soft base of my buttocks.

'No.' I called out, suddenly attempting to wriggle free from her lap, but not before Suzanne had begin to deliver a series of painful smacks that instantly quelled the instinct to rail against her.
The next two minutes played out in near silence. It was as if Suzanne and the crowd were collectively taking part in administering the beating. I imagined Elaine and Lillian were already hatching a scheme to guarantee this happened again. The only possible consolation to the whole affair was that at least Lyndsey knew I wasn't a liar. But, then maybe it was better to be known as a liar than as what I would be recognized as now.

Finally, the spanking ceased. Suzanne delivered a few final blows with her now tired arm and then came to a stop. She leaned back in the chair and retrieved her glove from the side of the well.
'Get up.' She hissed.
I clambered gracelessly to my feet and stood in front of her with my arms at my sides and my legs twitching uncontrollably. She pulled her glove over her hand which was now glowed a harsh pink, no doubt a similar shade of colour was glowing beneath the seat of my jodhpurs. Suzanne's face was flushed from the exertion.

She stood up and scanned my tear streaked face with her chilly glare. 'Have you learned your lesson this time?' She asked.
I nodded overenthusiastically. 'Yes, Miss Harrison-Smith'
A chuckle of amusement ran through the crowd.
'Have you?' She intoned accusingly, raising her eyebrows. 'I recall that, yesterday, I told you to smarten up your appearance. Look at the state of you! And you're still wearing this!' She batted my runched jacket with the back of her hand. 'I'm not convinced you have learned your lesson at all.' Her voice assumed a cold tone which caused a flare of panic to explode in my chest.
'Yes. I did. I-' I stammered
'Pathetic.'
Suzanne grabbed the sleeve of my jacket once again and began to walk quickly in the direction of the boot room, dragging me once more behind her. The students and stable hands followed, not daring to miss a thing.

My eyes began to fill with tears one again. 'Oh no. No. Please don't..Please..' I whimpered as I began to prepare myself for what was certain to be another spanking.
She pulled open the door to the equipment room and dragged me inside, slamming the door behind her. The crowd gathered outside murmured in expectation.
'I don't mind admitting..' She whispered through a thin smile, '..that I've been wanting to do that to you since your first day here.'

I said nothing I could feel the tears tickling my skin as they ran down the side of my nose. I sniffed.
'I certainly didn't expect that you would be stupid enough to provide me with the opportunity. Even after a clear warning. As a result of your recent behavior. I am denying you the privilege of taking school clothing and equipment home. Do you understand?'
'Yes, Miss Harrison-Smith. From now?' I asked, concerned that she was threatening to send me home in nothing but my jacket and pants.

'Of course not. From tomorrow.' She stated. 'If you cannot provide your own boots and jodhpurs then you can still use the school property. But only when you are here and only for work purposes. When you arrive in the morning and leave in the evening you can wear your own clothes. You can change in here, the door has a lock. Is that understood?'
'Yes, Miss Harrison-Smith.'
'Do you feel that I've in any way treated you unfairly this afternoon?'
'No. Miss Harrison-Smith.'
'So, you agree that the discipline I administered was deserved, considering your behavior?'
'Yes. Miss Harrison-Smith.'
'Do you believe that you have learned your lesson?'
'Yes. Miss Harrison-Smith.'
'Your actions today more than empower me to instantly dismiss you from this school, especially considering you are still employed here on a probationary status.' She smiled. 'However, I will allow you remain here on the basis that your behaviour and attitude improves beyond all recognition during the remainder of the week.'
'Thank you, Miss Harrison-Smith.'

She moved close to me so the brim of her hat was almost touching my face.
'I suggest that you start making more of an effort to be an asset to this school and so I've thought of a suitable duty for you that is both motivating and educational.' She stated, icily. 'There are a lot of boots in this room that need polishing. If anyone, be it me, a student or a stable hand asks you to polish their boots, and then you will do it immediately and without question and for as many times as it becomes necessary for those boots to shine to their satistfaction.. Perhaps after a few weeks you may have mastered the basics of a maintaining a presentable appearance.' 'Yes.

Miss Harrison-Smith.' Suzanne turned and walked out of the boot room. I could her hear outside ordering everyone to get back to what they were doing before the situation had erupted. Now alone in the equipment room, I collapsed to my knees and let the tears flow in the knowledge that whether I was in Rowledge or here, humiliation was seemingly inescapable.

To me discipline is that which was practiced on me at school and that means the cane!. My preference for a cane to be used on me is 3/8" diameter straight rattan cane with a weighted tip as used at my school.

WHY USE A CANE?
Caning is like any other skilled occupation; what you get out of it depends on what you put into it. The cane hurts more than anything else. That is the point! "Getting the cane" at school was the ultimate punishment, that was going to happen to you NOW! Not next week! For these very reasons, the effects of a cane should never be diminished by halfhearted use. This applies equally where "the caning" is being given for the "pleasure" of the recipient, or their "punishment.".

MY PERSONAL EXPERIENCES!!!!
I, myself was introduced to caning at school in the late fifties, the first time was when the whole class was "whacked" I remember when it came to my turn to bend over and the shock and surprise that it didn't hurt very much, that was until about twenty seconds later, when back at my desk, I was aware of an intense pain running right up my spine from my arse, together with what was pretty nearly my first erection the throb went on until break when I was so worried I went to see matron who made me drop my trousers and then massaged my bottom and then much to my surprise "manipulated" (her words) me until I had an ejaculation!

Again a first, soon a warm glow developed on my arse that continued for the rest of the day. I even enjoyed grinding my bruised buttocks into the chair I was sitting on. The classic "twin tracks" and the bruise lasted for two or three weeks and had just gone by the second time which was in the gym (in gym kit) for dirty shoes once again only one (ONLY) stroke but wow the effect (not surprisingly the gym master was very strong!) and the same end game too!

Then a few weeks later I was in trouble in class and told to report to the first aid room ( the execution chamber!) after class. I knew what that meant, the master concerned arrived, there were two of us waiting in anticipation (we did not know how many strokes). He went into the room carrying the cane and asked for "the first" The other boy went in first, I heard some talking a brief silence and then the swish and then crack of the cane on trousered bottom, through the closed door,there were four of them! So at least I knew how many!

Then it was my turn, "bend down, and touch your toes!" Then the fiddling as my jacket was pulled up to expose the trousered "target area". The feeling of my behind for "padding!" The simple statement from the master "four and don't move!" Then swish, crack, thump as The first stroke hit my stretched trousered bum,a real thud (a small pain but no more). So far so good! I thought too soon! By the time the fourth landed my bottom was really thumping! The erection was so great I had to walk stooped to hide the obvious bulge in my trousers at the front.

"Didn't hurt much" said my fellow victim! Not Bloody Much it didn't! By School Rules we had to go to have the damage inspected by Matron and she filled in the punishment book. - ( we could only receive six strokes every week and they were added on to the next time if you had reached the maximum!) once again she "manipulated" me, after soothing my bottom, and from his smile my fellow canee too! I was begging to enjoy being caned! I was caned at least ten more times.

Only once I got the maximum "Six of the best", (and they were "The Best!") and it was this time that I remember most, the junior assistant matron was on duty,having inspected the damage and rubbed some cream in, she took full advantage and so it was I was introduced to oral sex and sexual intercourse,I still fantasize about her tight pussy and firm breasts her lips around my cock. My bottom throbbing and my erection leading to four orgasms for us both. It set a standard seldom achieved since!

HOW TO DO IT?
The target area was at school and still is: the approximately six inch wide strip between the fold in the buttocks and the thigh and the middle of the buttocks, the act of using a cane requires skill and concentration!

Practice on a cushion or something that leaves a mark. Practice the swing follow through with full force, the tip of the cane should be aimed for half way across the far buttock, avoiding wrap round and transmitting the maximum effect to the target area!

Most people find that a good level of comfort and control can be achieved with the four fingers curled around the cane, and the thumb lying along the shaft. If you are holding it well, you should find that the cane feels like an extension of your arm and hand. You can test this by flicking and swishing the cane through the air - does it do what you want? If the answer is yes, you have found out how to hold the Cane. Having got your grip, it is time to make some practice strokes.

You will find it helpful to practice with the cushion at the buttock-height for me bending over. Keep things easy, start with small movements, keeping your arm rigid and just swiveling your wrist. See how much force you can manage using just your wrist - you might be surprised at how hard a blow you can manage! As you get better, bring your lower arm into play.

As you gain confidence, you may find it helpful to reduce the size of the target by sticking a piece of tape to the cushion and aiming for that. In doing this, do remember that vertical aim (as in how high or low on the target your stroke lands) is just as important as horizontal aim! Don't forget that as you hit harder, the swing will tend to extend your arm so that the tip of the cane lands further away from you than you intended. .

"Trousers on" is more "authentic" stripped and "on the bare" was done to me only once, though by matron herself when she was caning me for an untidy study! at my request! (This did NOT go in the punishment book!)

The position? The best position is bent over,(this was used at my school) in this case, the body is supported only by muscle power. This has a number of advantages. First, underwear (if still on!) tends to ride up, tightening against sensitive areas and heightening the experience. Second, the skin is tightened, enhancing the sensation of each stroke. Finally, when I am bent over, without support, the effects of caning are very obvious.

If receiving a sound caning, I cannot help shuffling slightly.Of course, I might stop, if you add another stroke for each twitch and shuffle! A light stroke of the cane stings immediately and then fades to leave a warm sensation which may last for some minutes. More powerful strokes of the cane have an increasingly delayed effect. If the stroke is hard, the impact is felt as just a thud. It takes ones nerves some seconds to fully react to a real whack, one feels a growing burning sensation which peaks anything up to five to twenty seconds after the impact.

A stroke like this hurts for some while, and will still be sore for up to a week!. The marks lasting much longer! That is the point! Several hard strokes in quick succession say, one per second are preferred. As for how many? Six hard strokes is pretty strong stuff. Four is good for maximum effect on me if done properly. On being told to to "bend over". I will look forward to the feel of clothing tightening against the skin or, being removed as you decide!

My stomach will flutter. I will take the four or six swift cracks of the cane across my bottom and then straighten up, and present my bottom for inspection! The caner counts too.You will be able to take pleasure in the submissive presentation of my body to you.The resulting sex will be fantastic for us both.

I promise! I LOOK FORWARD TO IT! AND SO SHOULD YOU Consent is absolute and anyone can call the whole thing off at any time. AS IN MY OWN CASE, when I was a School Prefect we began to get girls in the sixth form and it was made clear that the same rules applied to all pupils.

Prefects were allowed to Tawse (on the hand) Birch, Cane or slipper on the buttocks. Frankly I was not looking forward to punishing a girl, being punished by a girl that was different. And then I had to do it. She was a well developed 17 year old who had been caught "selling favors!"

The prefects meeting (including another girl) sentenced her to four in the meeting in front of us all. She was made to hitch up her skirt, exposing her knickers the skirt being tucked into the waist band, she was told to bend over the back of a chair and hold firmly onto the sides of the seat the head prefect then as was usual pulled names from a bowl in the middle of the table to choose the caner! It was me!

I did my bit and "laid it on" she squirmed a bit counted out the strokes as one had too if punished by prefects Said thank you and pulled her skirt out and made herself decent! Half an hour later I was in my study/bedroom when a knock on the door, I have to say that despite my feelings the act of caning her had given me an erection. She simply assaulted me smothering me with kisses sticking her tongue down my throat and groping my groin! in no time at all we had our clothes off and went for it.

Once again a very tight pussy very wet and slippery and she came in gushes, I was surprised no one heard. We'd both have been thrashed if we'd been caught, but then danger is part of good sex isn't it? Now what about you? I could be very strict and then make you bend over my knee for a spanking on your bare bottom having of course taken down your pants.

If you still haven't learned your lesson then I would have to make you bend over the back of the sofa or a chair or even the punishment stool and I would select a cane from the rack usually the one I have already described I would then inflict four given very quickly and as the effect is felt I will massage your buttocks and stroke you between your legs, the rest would be up to you.

Maybe you'd feel you still had not learned your lesson maybe you would! If not we can use the birch or more of the cane, the paddle or any combination until you feel you've had enough! THEN I will give you a few more!

Afterwards you will have to sit quietly and do as I say! IF MARKS ARE A PROBLEM THEN WE CAN TAKE STEPS TO ENSURE THERE ARE NONE!

As a foot note my own final caning was by the Art Mistress, she gave me "five" she was strong and it hurt just as much as one of the masters, (I was never caned by prefects, which as we had girl prefects too was a pity perhaps!)

I shall now recount to you a true incident which happened to my best friend Debashish Dasgupta. I am Rahul Sen and this happened when we were students of Second Year Engineering in a certain Engineering College in West Bengal,India. I shall, however, not reveal the name of my college to you- for obvious reasons. Ours was a new college in a district town in West Bengal and me and my friend Debashish had adjacent rooms in the newly constructed New Block of the Hostel.

Our rooms were in the ground floor with open windows facing a compund wall on the other side of which stood the girls� hostel of a reputed missionary school. A little ahead, there was a small opening in the compund wall which we used for retrieving the cricket ball and sorts when it landed on the other side of the wall.

One day after returning from the Diwali vacation, Debashish told me that during the vacation he had touched the private parts of a distant cousin of his and she had even masturbated him. Ever since then he had been very restless and desparately longed for some chick.

As luck would have it, he soon had friendly �passes�and �lifts�from a class ten girl in the hostel next door. But it was not an easy task to meet his sweetheart as the Matron of the hostel was a tough young lady- a spinster actually- who used to regularly cane even senior girls for misconduct.

It was a hot summer night and absolutely windstill. I could hardly sleep.Suddenly, I heard a faint ruffle of stealthy foot and got suspicious. I found Deb moving towards the opening with halting steps. I followed him. He then tapped lightly on this girl�s window and she opened it rather noiselessly.

The other option involved meeting the Gurkha on the front door.The window opened and Deb went in.At this point, the Gurkha came on a patrol and I had nowhere to hide. However, I was lucky enough to find a window open- and it was a room where nobody was sleeping. The room was locked from outside, and there was a small square opening through which aparently the girls used to communicate- concealed behind a calendar which swayed to reveal its presence.

This was next to the room my friend went in. I positioned myself there and could even here every breath they breathed. There was a round of kissing and I could see the glistening pearl amulet which Deb had around his upper arm in the moonlight. He was just clad in a pair of pajamas and a summer vest and the girl in a white chemise.

Then they stripped each other and Deb went from behind and began ploughing the whole form with the back of his lip- so to say. He then laid her on her belly on the bedside and at this point the girl refused to carry on further.

But Deb then started fingering her vulva with his finger driving her mad. She desparately wanted an end, but Deb pushed his rod in and I could see the form going up and down. Then suddenly he came out and dropped the cum on the girl�s tits.

At this point, the girl began to sob and Deb then took his hankie, polished the cum and slipped on his pajama. But now, the drama began.

There was a tap on the door and the Gurkha stationed himself on the windowside. Then there were more and in came the Matron. The Matron had manged to capture everything on a spy camera and then she told Deb that the game was up.

She said, chewing every word,�Do you know what will happen if we give this film to your Princi?�She added,�also Lina is not yet 16 and having sex with her is illegal- even with her consent�.

At this point Deb got very nervous and touched her feet in tears begging for mercy. After a good five minutes or so, she said,�Alright, I can give you a choice. You have to write that you have been caught redhanded having sex in a girl�s hostel and you shall accept whatever punishment you decide for you.

If you accept the punishment, we shall keep this paper and let you have the film,is that okay?� Deb nodded affirmatively and wrote out the chit. �Now then�, she went on.�We have a system here where some senior students decide on punishment and you have to face this jury- like a prisoner. Now open your vest and your pajama and then I shall tie your hands behind you and call the jury right here. You shall kneel down and receive the judgement- which I am afraid shall consist of caning and further humiliation� Deb pleaded,�please Maam, must I undress- they are much younger girls..�

She barked,�well you had just undressed in front of a younger girl! The choice is yours� Deb opened his pajama and took his vest out. The Matron tied his hand behind him and soon assembled the class. I thought of rescueing Deb, but soon the Matron returned with four other class tenners.

While Deb knelt down in one corner, one of the girls came down and inspected his dick. She went back and reported,�they have had it till the last, Miss�Now , the verdict was announced,�one hundred situps holding your ears, chanting �� I shall never do it again�� and twenty strokes all over the body� Deb quietly complied.

The Matron went on counting,�one, two,... no no thats not enough, you must do it properly�and so on. When it ended, she said, �now for the second part.Girls some dettol and some water�.

Then a rope was tied to Deb�s waist and the cotstand.Hs hands were then free and he was asked to make the bieps available for the strokes by pulling the pearl amulet down to the elbow. The first shot came swashing down on one of the biceps. Deb rushed to put his hand there.

The second shot now landed on the other bicep. He tried to put the other hand there.�Now, show me your palms�, demanded the Matron. Deb obliged, first producing the right one and then the left.This went on for sometime. Then she barked,�bend over�. Now, with Deb bending over, she brought the cane down again and again on his buttock and back. Finally, it came to an end.

She said,�Okay, here�s the film and you may leave now.� Deb walked away limping. He surely had had enough. The Gurkha being away, I followed suit It was an eventful night.

Posh Schoolboy.(FD)

I went to junior school on the Fylde Coast 1954, generally it was OK but the form teacher a woman in her late thirties had taken an instant dislike to me. Thinking back she thought I was an arrogant eleven year old boy who needed to be taken down a peg or two.

I was quite tall for my age and my Mother was an elecution teacher so I suppose I came across as the original 'posh' schoolboy. She would ask questions that you could not find the answer to accordingly you were brought to the front of class had your short trousers leg pulled up and caned on the thigh just below the buttock.

It was close to Xmas and I asked my Granma if my present could be received early a pair of long trousers' this came about and I remember smirking on my first day wearing them I felt secure, no more trouser leg pulled up I felt that I had outsmarted her ladyship.

She approached me in the afternoon and said 'happy in those' pointing at my new trousers, I think I retorted 'yes thank you miss' she looked positively furious and told me to remain behind when class went home at 4-00pm.
When all pupils save I had gone home she left her desk and locked the class room door pulling the blind down on the door window. She went back to her desk and said 'boy come here' I stood beside her at the desk feeling very apprehensive.

'So you think your clever do you well lets see how clever you have been' she then told me to undo my trousers I started to say something and she said 'do as I say dont make matters worse' I found myself undoing my buttons and unclipping my snake belt.

' I am going to ask you some questions on grammer if you get any wrong you will be thrashed do you understand' now somewhat worried I nodded and needless to say I was lost at some of the questions deliberatly made difficult. She turned round saying 'you are not so clever now' and scraped back her chair picking up her short cane 'drop your trousers and bend over the desk hands stretched out forward' I did as told feeling very vulnerable I felt her pull my vest, shirt and jumper up my back until it was gathered around my shoulders and then I was mortified as she pulled my underpants down 'please miss' I said.

' be quiet you insolent boy not very confident now are we' she told me to stay still and that if I made a noise then further punishment would be added. I gripped the edge of the desk as she stepped back and swung the cane, I felt pain as she beat my bare bottom, the humiliation, at that stage in life I would not undress in front of anybody.

She stopped the beating I had tears in my eyes but incredible under the circumstances I had an erection, ' stand up and face the desk' I tried to stand sideways and went to pull down my clothing but was told to keep my hands by my side and face the desk properly. She looked at my stiff penis and said you dirty little so and so, I honestly did not know what was happening.

She said' there is only one way to deal with you thats more of the same get over that desk you arrogant little swine' so I felt the heat and pain of being truly thrashed by what I think was a demented teacher

She finally stopped but would not allow me to stand up she bent and spoke into my ear 'where did your long trousers get you, well was it worth it tell me you will behave and be quiet in class now turn over I want to see if you are still dirty minded, I said 'please miss I dont know whats happening I cant help it, she pulled me over and looked down 'you just dont learn do you'?

Eventually I was a blubbering shadow of earlier that day hardly able to walk back home and frightened to tell my parents. I played truant for two days and on returning to school found that I had a new form teacher nothing more was ever said.

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