Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 03 for ASSTR (Spanking)

   Exploits with a Gym Slipper

   Three More Sally Trubshawe Henderson Stories

   By Big Billie

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



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



   Story the First: Spanked in the Showers

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

   Story the Second: A Smacking for Smoking

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

   Story the Third: The Fighters Bit

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

   My stricter punishment of Pamela started with the preparatory tail
flicks.  I commenced, however, by stretching across Pamela's bottom and
slapping Margaret into line.  Flick!  "Come on girl!  Bend over!"
Margaret's big, full-sized womanly bottom quivered and wobbled deliciously
and, after a few seconds, her fanny meat turned a fetching shade of pink
where she had taken the pump.  I waited for this first flick to tingle and
then: Flick!!
"No!  Straight legs!" This second flick, like the one before it, fell

slap across the back of the fanny hairs, onto the plump, nubile buttock
meat just above the thighs.  It was slightly harder than the first flick,
and the recipient breathed out sharply with an audible "Ach!" I then pushed
gently down on the back of Margaret's head and waited for her to fully feel
flick number two.  Then: Flick!!!  This third preparatory slap was a
beauty. It again landed with a sharp, satisfying crack slap across both
bare buttocks adjacent to the quim.  "Margaret!  Are you being deliberately
disobedient?  If you do not shape up pronto and bend over as instructed I
promise you that I will make you feel very, very sorry for yourself." This
last quip was, of course, blatantly unfair, since even before flick number
1 Margaret was sweating and straining to do my bidding to the very best of
her ability.  By now she was grunting audibly as she pushed her fingers
past her toes with all her strength.  "OK" I said grudgingly.  "That still
isn't good enough, but I'll leave it there for the moment.  The least
relaxation on your part, however, young lady, will be met with a very
strict and sharp comeuppance.  Do I make myself plain?" "Yes, Miss
Trubshawe" grunted Margaret from between clenched teeth as, gasping and
panting, she continued to force herself to bend over as far as she possibly
could.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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