Black had been hauled before the School Governor, who had decided he needed correction for his disobedience. He was sent to see Miss Hastings, the resident behaviourist, to explain his presence and to receive 18 strokes of the cane in three groups of six. And as evidence, the Governor wanted proof of completion, as he knew that Black was one for wriggling out of punishment, and so a photo of his bottom both before and after would suffice. The utter delight of performing the task increased as he explained the requirement to her and she would take great pleasure in doing her job... after all it was one of the perks! Strapped to the punishment bench she delivered each and every agonising stroke with the cane; the pain seering through Black's whole body. After completion she reviewed her handiwork and was pleased with the result. She bet it wouldn't be long before he was back for more!

Suspecting that Miss Hastings-Gore had a passionate interest in thrashing outside the field of education the salesman from the Wakefield Strap and Paddle Company brought samples of their more BDSM products. A 5-tailed cat and a heavy single-tail with a heavy slapper at the end. He thought he’d made a sale without the usual demonstration on his bottom but, in reality, he knew what was coming. First she tried the single-tail and got the hang of it in a few eye-wateringly blistering strokes. Then his pants came down. The cat really stung in contrast to the former implement and now his arse was crimson as she hoisted the legs of his underpants. Naturally she had to try the single-tail on the bare with gusto. Luckily for him she was interrupted before she could sample the special-order whangee show cane. Maybe next time.

Ruby was in trouble again, the third time this week. She had been sent to the gym to await her punishment, hands on head, standing in front of the vaulting horse that she would soon be tanned over. “Three times this week” admonished Miss Hastings, “I doubt if it will be third time lucky” then made her lie flat on the high horse, legs straight out behind her. Her skirt came up and Miss set about spanking the girl’s pert behind. Miss Hardcastle’s hand is well hardened with spanking and it really, really hurts. A few swats with the leather paddle on her reddening shapely mounds, then back to spanking. When she was allowed to dismount she had to stand, skirt up, hands on head in disgrace to think about her behaviour and had a sneaky rub of her still glowing bottom.

Stephanie was the boss of the sales department in a sizeable company and had advertised for an experienced person to be at her right hand. She had many applicants but one more arrived at her office. He answered all questions to her liking and when he said he’d do anything, even something he wasn’t keen on, if she required him to do so she decided to put him to the test. From her early convent school days she had been obsessed with spanking but her partner wouldn’t play and frustration had built up in her to bursting point. Admitting her methods were a little unorthodox she dropped his trousers and locked the door then spanked him over her desk. Clearly pleased, almost euphoric, she progressed to paddling him, then strapping his bottom. “Say you want the job” she panted between whacks. He got it.

Locked away from society for their misdeeds the inmates of the Wakefield Institute of Correction suffered at the hands of a particularly cruel and sadistic wardress who believed in Victorian levels of discipline, ‘to make them better people’. She happened upon this hapless wretch sewing discipline implements to earn his keep. The sewing machine belonged in a museum and the table wobbled dramatically. He had just stitched out of line as a result. She was straight on it. “We’ll see if wobbly affects my work”, bent him over the table and lashed his rump viciously with old-fashioned crops that made his knees buckle. My God, they had bite. The strap he was working on may have been untidy but worked horribly well. She was taking great pleasure in seeing him suffer, clutching his tattered arse in abject agony. She left him to correct his mistakes.

Aunty’s nephew came home very late from school explaining he’d been at football practice. She was waiting to spank him anyway for not making his bed so over he went. He soon offered to go and do it but his underpants came down for more, then they too were lowered. She noticed that he had been beaten at school and he confessed that he had been in detention. This demanded more serious attention so she had him turn a chair round to bend over and took a slipper and a cane from the sideboard, first delivering a scorcher of a full-whack slippering, then a sound caning. She had been a prefect at school and wondered if she could remember how to cane. After a ‘lucky seven’ gasp-inducing strokes she decided that she had indeed got the knack. He shouldn’t have slammed the door, though......

Stephanie got a local builder to send a man round to do jobs for her around the house. He was totally useless. He was fitting a tiled fire surround and had damaged it. She was very displeased and was going to tell his boss if he couldn’t fix it. When she said he couldn’t she saw red, demanding compensation and suggesting a good hiding would do him some good. She proposed that she wouldn’t tell his boss if she could beat the living daylights out of him and set to the task with enthusiasm and severity, starting with a carpet beater before putting over her elegant knee for a spanking, on the bare of course. He stood and bent over, hands on the sofa for a hard belting and a few with a flat implement then off to put all his shoddy work right.

Macdonald Tuit proudly presented his art project to the Headmistress. Photography and art. “This is art?” she queried. “In its basic form” he replied. It was rather too basic for her taste, much too vulgar and when she found some blatantly obscene spanking material she could take no more. She would shame him at assembly tomorrow but in the meantime a good strapping would show him the error of his ways. “Is this how art is rewarded?” he asked as she set about applying the strap to his bottom six times, very firmly. On taking his shorts down to assess the damage she found cane marks and gave him another six severe slashes of the tawse. Sitting on her high spanking chair she inspected the hands that that created this filth, stood up and belted those hands hard, lashing the strap down on his outstretched palms, then dismissing him.

One of Stephanie’s laziest employees went to her office claiming to be ill and wanted to go home. She sent him to the work sick bay where Matron would give him a sick note. She looked in his mouth and found nothing. She instructed him to remove his trousers and lie on the examination table, then gloved up for a rectal thermometer when he lost his nerve and sat up. She knew there was nothing wrong but idleness, told him he was ‘swinging the lead’ and made him lie face down again. Then she set about spanking him very hard on his perfectly healthy bare arse. She reached for her white leather belt, doubled over and lashed it mightily across his rapidly reddening backside. His back arched and feet kicked up each stroke and his moans were pathetic. A final flurry and she was done.

Rhetorical question, really. When THIS Headmistress delivers a cane stroke one certainly feels it. So, when this boy was sent to her for being disruptive in class, worse still, with a smirk on his face, he was going to feel every single, severe slash of her cane. She pulled out a high stool and instructed him to bend over it and hold tight to the bottom of the legs. Selecting a cane she took up her trademark stance, well braced for the delivery of a savage stroke. “I trust one felt that” she asked after the first and he genuinely assured her that he did. His smirk had now well and truly gone but she lashed him a few more times. Down came his trousers and she crouched into her work, soon changing to a whippy, biting cane. Every stroke counted. Every stroke burned.

Having caught an unsavoury character stealing knickers, the gym mistress wanted to make sure it wouldn’t happen again. Stripped naked she put the dirty knickers over his head and face and began by spanking his great fat arse over her knee. It was loud and firm and his bottom was soon red. On the floor, face down she beat him with a crop, sitting and standing astride him. He was going to get a horrendous caning but first she belted him with a belt that in her words was ‘a little bitch’. What sounds cane from his mouth under punishment. Floggers, crops, canes all marked his fat rear sometimes by surprise and from odd angles. The leather paddle stung then she encouraged him to take the whippy cane. “Dig in, you can do it”. He was destroyed when she left him.

Brian was broke and had to move in with Stephanie under her strict house rules. One Saturday afternoon he was reading with a generous glass of her best whisky when he spilled it all over the carpet. “O Christ, she’ll go mad” he muttered as he clumsily tried to clean it up. When she came in she was mad and furiously spanked him over her knee, trousers down. Still livid she continued enthusiastically with his underpants down. It was too much when she found the damp cushion and he had to bend for a good leathering with the paddle. When she undid his trousers he hoped she was going to do something nice but all he got was a severe belting. Sent to make her a cup of tea he asked “one sugar or two?” to which she replied “I’m sweet enough.” Yeah!