Peter was staying with Miss Hardcastle for the school holidays. He got a temporary home, she got her chores done. Holidays or not, the level of discipline was undiminished. Tasked with washing the pots and sweeping the kitchen floor he preferred helping himself to a glass of pop and reading a magazine. Until she caught the idle boy and smacked his hands with the wooden spoon. When she realised the pots weren’t done she bent him over the sink for a dose of the hairbrush, then, unsurprisingly, down came his school shorts. She went to fetch implements then lowered his underpants and spanked him before laying into him with a heavy plimsoll which made him go “OW” with each swat then she tanned him with her leather paddle. The telephone saved his ass though she spanked him loudly for the benefit of the caller.

Miss Hasting’s home gas boiler had failed and the engineer wasn’t doing much to fix it. At £80/hr he had done nothing and even his tools were in the van. When she challenged him, sitting in the boiler room, sleepy eyed, he said he’d had ‘a little fiddle’ and she became very irate about not being able to use the cooker. He had the regrettable cheek to ask where his coffee was and maybe a sandwich, admitting he’d had a nap to sharpen him up. She said she’d go to his boss and he capitulated. He hadn’t expected to be beaten but she bent him over and tanned his arse with a wooden spoon. Pure agony, no wonder, she was seriously cross. He screamed at the hairbrush and she then gave him a spoon swat for each year of his life – 26. Got the boiler fixed, though.

The Headmistress demanded the janitor attended her study to explain his lack of cleaning while other areas like the girls’ dorms got his full attention. Calling him slovenly and lazy she was on the point of dismissing him from the job unless he agreed to come in on Sunday to clean her room from top to bottom. She demanded he took a weekly punishment, a good spanking and a strapping. “There’s no time like the present” she announced, sat on a chair in the middle of her study and spanked the living daylights out of him. “That’s the first part” she told him then bent him over her desk, trousers down for a strapping that had him howling from the first biting stroke. Pausing for effect, she slipped his underpants down for more of the same then let him go. Until Sunday.

For bunking off cross-country (yet again) Potter had to stay after school for a very long, very brutal reminder not to dawdle again. Over the caning stool she whipped his back hard (not a recognised school punishment but most effective). He started making pathetic pained sounds when she took some serious leather to his arse and he began to breathe deeply. She was going to take sadistic pleasure in this and happily assured him that after school there was no rush. The prison strap, swung with determination at full stretch is a terrifying experience, the blistering cracks reverberating round the room. The old leather crop is almost as frightening (swung as she does). Finally it was over the horse for the cane. There has to be a caning. She adores caning. By the time she was done his arse was crimson and striped.

Her nephew had gone to bed early to do some homework but was reading the racing paper when Aunty came in with his bedtime hot chocolate. He stuffed the paper under his pillow. She told him she wanted to change his sheets as she had heard him wanking the night before (which he denied) and found the paper. She put him over her knee for a blistering spanking then made him take a revision book and lay face down on the bed. She took the belt to his bottom, hard, first on his pyjama bottoms then on his bare rear. Really cross about his gambling he got a right good dose of the plimsoll then she sat astride him, one stockinged thigh each side and hairbrushed him despite his flailing legs. “Have you learned your lesson?” she asked. “Yes Aunty, thank you” he blurted.

Stephanie was dressed beautifully, ready to be taken out for a 25th wedding anniversary meal and impatiently awaited Peter’s return from work. When he arrived it was clear he hadn’t bought her a card, or, apparently, anything else. She was livid, told him to shut up and bend over for a slippering but soon went over her knee for her to vent her fury. She made him pull the sofa out and bent him over the back for an almighty slippering, then made him start counting to 25. Finally allowed to speak he said there was ‘something’ in the dressing table and she went to see. She was so happy when she returned with a pearl necklace and bracelet but a dropped receipt showed he had charged them to her credit card. She took his trouser belt and skinned his arse. She would dine alone at Luigi’s.

The trouble with being a lady boss is that the men take liberties. Stephanie had several salesmen and assessed their performance regularly. One individual had very disappointing figures and when she summoned him to her office he was dressed very casually, no uniform or motif to show who he represented. “You’re not cutting the mustard” she rebuked, “you need focus.” By that she meant making him sit and work at his desk in his underpants with the throbbing redness of a harshly paddled bottom showing past his skimpy underpants for humiliation. Over her desk and stripped to his underwear she laid on the leather paddle hard with a loud and satisfying crack. He squirmed and yelped with each hard stroke before she eased his underpants down for the final swats. Satisfied, she remarked that she thought they would do quite well with the new regime.

Alan was in big trouble. He had forged sick notes from his parents so was guilty not only of absenteeism but also dishonestly. His parents were furious and had sent Miss Hastings-Gore two of the finest crook-handled canes that the educational suppliers could provide. He was flabbergasted that they would do that. The Headmistress announced that although Upper 6th Formers were normally exempt from Corporal Punishment she was going to treat him with contempt and cane him. Hard and deliberately. Over her desk she took one of the canes and sliced it towards his bottom as hard as she could. What a crack! She took pauses to prolong his agony. “Soak in that burn and feel the heat” she told him without a shed of sympathy. It wasn’t long before his shorts came down, followed by his underpants. Such livid strips! Then off to detention.

Mercer was up for a severe caning for all the problems he had caused over the whole term. Strapped to the spanking bench, he was forced to face the two female teachers he had wronged with his misogynistic comments and downright rudeness towards them. And Miss Hastings wasn't going to hold back either. She detested such behaviour and would ensure he felt the consequences of his actions. Having set out a whole array of different canes, she delivers each stroke with aplomb.... a true caning artiste at work, whilst the teachers encourage her and suggest to mercer he takes it and digs in. After 78 powerful strokes his cheeks are completely shredded and the teachers come up to inspect the mess, and her handiwork!

Riviera walks sheepishly into the library having being summoned there by Stephanie the librarian. She begins by asking him some simple questions like where they, the purpose of a library, what is the library founded upon and then proceeds to go through the sections. Riviera is confused until she points out that there appears to be quite a few gaps on the shelves and why would that be? After a long silence, Riviera apologies and promises to return the overdue books. But the librarian is not impressed as most are at least 2 months overdue! And for that he must be punished so he learns a valuable lesson...and a painful one it was too...

An Italian gentleman visits Miss Hastings from time to time for a good hard thrashing then takes his cuts and bruises back to Italy to mend. She warmed him up with a spanking over her knee that seemed interminable. He was making pained sobs by the end but she is used to this and carried on with even greater gusto. She was looking forward to the serious whipping. He was certainly warm now, red hot actually. Oh! How she loves to cane him and make him count in Italian. When she strapped him she coiled like a spring and let loose the most awesome of strokes, time and time again. When he asked what the schooling whip was she explained it was to help horses, not beat them. Good for beating gentlemen with, though. A final flesh-rending judicial caning to leave him gasping.

Riviera was tasked with learning French numbers as well as basic greetings. He promised he'd learnt them, but struggled with his numbers. However, there was one French lesson that would perhaps aid his memory... the use of the martinet. Miss described its purpose and Riviera visibly sighed with fear, which unsettled him, but Miss was not happy that he couldn't be bothered to learn just a few basic french numbers. Made to stand up with hands out, Miss lashed his palms, which clearly stung. Time to try it out on his legs, now with his hands on his head. Then it was over the desk, pants down for a lashing, the strap marks now showing on his reddened thighs, while he was made to count in French!