Back to school

I am soooo excited I cannot wait for the day to come. Yes, I am going to a school day soon and my headmaster will be presiding over the no doubt unruly pupils. Not me of course as I will be as quiet as a church mouse and will not get into trouble at all. Much to learn in so short a space of time.......

I.D. is doing star jumps.


Any comments more than welcome, don't be shy, be naughty.
Gary.

Headmasters' study revisited (a fantasy).

Many months had passed by since I last stood outside his study door, my heart pounding in my chest, I gave the door two knocks. No answer. I raised my clenched hand to knock again when the door opened and I pulled my hand down to my side.
 'Well well,  what do we have here? the headmaster asked rhetorically.
 'Come in boy,' his tone slightly softer than I had anticipated.
Standing as I was with head bowed and hands nervously held together behind my back, the long catalogue of infractions being read out to me made my stomach churn over as I knew what lay ahead. Indeed he had told me in no uncertain terms the last time, that I faced a severe thrashing should I be called to his study again  
 this year.
 'I'll waste no more of my time with you boy, get those trousers down and get over my desk', the tone much harsher now.
 'We'll start with twelve strokes of the strap boy, you know what to do,' he said as he lowered my pants.
Counting each one but being careful to give myself enough recovery time between strokes, we had reached 'ten sir,' when there came a knock at the door.
Not bothering to hide my modesty, the headmaster opened the door and in walked a pair of black stockinged legs. The clack of heels quite loud on the wood flooring. My view impaired by my position, the legs went out of sight behind me.
 'This is the miscreant boy Miss Jeanie, you can have his full attention as soon as I have finished with him.'
Oh crap! Miss Jeanie. The supply teacher on who's blackboard I wrote, 'Have lamp, will travel' under her name only yesterday. But surely she couldn't know it was me?
I was musing this as no: 11 arrived and made me jump and a little 'ouch' escaped.
Although it was hot and sore, especially where the end of the strap had struck, my bottom was not too painful. Yet.
 'Twelve sir, thank you sir', I said, a slight relief in the 'thank you sir' being noticeable.
 'Now, I have asked Miss Jeanie here to witness your caning today because I feel that she would benefit from seeing how we deal with boys like you. Boys that only understand corporal punishment.'
It was only an instinct, a feeling, but I could inwardly see Miss Jeanie smiling as headmaster said these words.
The swish of rattan cut the air as his footsteps got nearer and I clasped the desk top in readiness for the inevitable searing pain that was about to be imparted on my bare bottom.
 'Twelve strokes boy, do not forget to count!' he said as he tapped my left cheek lightly with his cane.
It always surprises me, the suddenness and then the increase in pain that a cane stroke brings. That almost uncontrollable urge to yelp as it hits home. Although it is impossible not to hold your breath for a few seconds as each burning stripe buries itself deeper and deeper into your bottom. Remembering the count can be equally difficult as your brain tries to deal with the assault of pain, nay agony, of twelve hard cane strokes.
 The sweat now trickled slowly down my forehead and my fingers becoming numb from unconsciously gripping the desk top, I had reached my limit of endurance by the eighth. My howls and pleads of  'please sir' completely ignored, the remaining strokes became a blur as the tears ran down each side of my nose.
 My rib cage palpably heaving and the tears and sweat now glistening in pools on the desk top, I lay my head to one side. It was over.
 The presence of Miss Jeanie forgotten, I eased myself upright and staggered slightly as I gingerly pulled up my pants. From behind her voice startled me and as I turned to face its' source, her words registered.
'Who told you to pull up your pants boy?'
Oh no, surely not, not more, please god.
It was at this point that the headmaster suddenly left the room, saying nothing.
Standing rather pathetically and now facing her, my hands instinctively infront of my groin, she instantly resembled a young Audrey Hepburn.

A fact I hadn't noticed until this moment. Sharp jawline and dark, very dark eyes. Jet black hair pulled back and tight against her head. My eyes barely able to meet hers, she took one step towards me.
'Well, I'm waiting,' her voice soft yet menacing.
'Please miss, my punishment is over, can I go now?'
Seemingly ignoring my answer, she half turned to her right, then with no warning or inkling, span back, her hand exploding a smack across my face. The buzz and sting appearing almost together on my left cheek. I tried to answer but my throat was blocked.
 'I know that it was you who wrote on my blackboard, so I will do a deal with you young man.' She continued, her dark eyes now ablaze with light.
 'You will take twelve more strokes of the cane now,' the emphasis being on 'now', 'or you will see me later at my home.'
The buzz in my left ear and the tears now appearing from the corners of my eyes made me hesitate. Her right hand ostensibly rising in slow motion, I quickly blurted out, 'later, later miss.'
 'Good boy,' her hand now dropping and a slight, yet unnerving smile played on her red lips.
Brushing past me and bending slightly over headmasters desk, she wrote something on a card then spinning round, handed it to me saying, 'eight o' clock sharp, do not be late.'
And with that, she lifted my downturned face with one finger under my chin, her eyes burning black.
    'Do not let me down!' her breath warm and close.


I.D. working overtime...........Gary.
    

Craving a spanking

I'm always amazed at the diversity of pictures and stories that appear on Spanking Bloggers. Being a regular browser has become almost a second hobby for me of late, although it will never replace my first...Well you can see why...

                                     
                                       Aaah, the lure of that elusive hole in one....
Now if anyone wants to turn this into a 'Complete the Caption' compo. they are more than welcome. I promise I won't compete.
So, what's on my mind ?
Well quite frankly it's betrayal, or more precisely the temptation of betrayal.
I'm a person that needs, nay craves discipline and at the moment I'm getting none at all. Very selfish of me, yes I know, and yet I feel cornered, alone.
Just talk to her I hear, yes I hear you but she is always somewhere else with either her mind or her presence. Always too busy or just not in the mood....
Only an hour away lies my solution and yet..........I daren't.
To misquote a scene from 'Robin Hood Prince of Thieves' 'I shall never fear my headmasters cane'. No, It's not MY pain that I fear, It's HERS.
The pain of betrayal.
   
  Oh, by the way, All comments are very welcome...Please don't be shy....Be naughty.   Gary.
                                                                 

Quite a year.

Interesting year to say the least. A large boat on it's side,

But this is what really happened.
Naughty girls.....
A less than large woman announcing her pregnancy, the revelation by the British press that Prince Harry is a normal bloke that likes women and alcohol (well bless my soul). The Olympics,the jubilee,the Ryder cup (woo hoo),the tennis U.S. open,the grand prix oh,and some bloke that finally decided to do something about his most hidden desires.Hi.
We've lost some monumental people this year such as Neil Armstrong and Sir Patrick Moore,but gained a few like Felix Baumgartner (the bloke that jumped from the edge of space).
How did he know that he was definitely going to go DOWN? Did he chuck a stone out first to see which way it went? And what would he have done had he seen it go sideways? Er Houston,we have a problem.....I mean,there's no sign post up there saying,'You are now entering space,please drive with care'.
And my favourite comedy show of the moment 'Mrs. Browns Boys'. Her/His theory on the Noah's ark story that it rained for forty days and forty nights and they called that a disaster, Well, she says, in Ireland we call that the feckin' summer.
Oh and of course,the end of the world that didn't happen....again.
So, what will 2013 bring us?
Will we finally learn that we can't solve Afghanistan's problems by force of arms,the Russians couldn't and they don't give a shit!
Will banning gun ownership in America stop the senseless violence on their streets? Ask that question to the mafia or the many hundreds of gangs within their towns and cities. We banned handgun ownership in 1997 and armed crime has gone up ever since.
Will the people of the world ever realise that ALL religions are just an unproved theory? (I know,dodgy ground).
Will the big bang theory relationship between Sheldon and Amy develop into a domestic discipline setting?
And more importantly, will my wife ever use that tawse I bought months ago to redden my bottom so much that it hurts to look at let alone sit on.
Questions as yet unanswered,but time will tell....
..Or will it?
               Happy New Year kindred spirits.

' I've got a good idea ' he said !

During break times all pupils must vacate the building unless a valid reason is given.
That's more or less what the rule about break times stated. But of course if it was raining or cold yours truly and his mates would find a nice cosy vacated classroom in which to hide in.
 Imagine if you would a scene from stalag luft or colditz. The camp guards patrolling the barbed wire fence with vicious dogs barking at the full length of their leads. That to us was the game. Now, replace guards with dinner ladies and the dogs with the much hated prefects [ spit ].
 An English secondary school is a vast array of corridors and classrooms, toilets and changing rooms. The latter two coming in very handy as all the dinner ladies were well, ladies. Not many would dare to venture into the boys toilets.
 Incidentally , on the subject of changing rooms , I would like to hereby thank the architect who was responsible for designing the girls changing room on behalf of hundreds if not thousands of grateful boys. An open doorway then a left turn past a wall , then a right turn past a wall from the opposite direction so that the entrant did an 'S' shape. Trouble was , the two walls didn't overlap and so a well positioned boy could see straight into the bowels of the changing room . That's where I saw my first naked boobies! Failing that you could climb up on the flat roof and look through the skylight , which was permanently open to vent steam.
 Any way , back to colditz.
This particular day four of us had dodged the guards but had chosen a room at the very end of the corridor . No back way out . Only one thing to do was hide in the cupboards .
 I must have chosen three of the noisiest , stupidest and giggliest friends I could find. Within minutes we were apprehended and marched to the staff room .
 Mr Williams was a very tall daunting figure to any grown man let alone to us mere 2nd years. As deputy head he dealt with miscreant boys in a very firm fashion . Therefore , it was a major shock to be sent outside and made to sit on the lower playground wall for the duration of break time.
 A huge relief.
 As I stated earlier, my friends lacked a lot of common sense and so it shouldn't have surprised me when after ten minutes or so one of them wanted to go to the tuck shop because he was hungry. We had missed dinner but the money could buy lots of sweets.
 Deciding a trip through the corridor was too risky , we snuck around the school boundary to cross the road and home safe. Trouble was we had to pass the staff room window. Yep, no one had thought of that.
 Out flung the window and a ' YOU BOYS !' was bellowed at us by a clearly slightly peeved deputy head. Oh crap !
 Lined up outside his study the three of us could clearly hear the smack of slipper hitting number fours' backside. An occasional yelp told us we were in the shit , big time.
 As last man , I had to suffer the gut ache for the longest which grew and grew with every exiting , crying boy frantically rubbing his backside with both hands.
 That ' let's get this over with ' feeling relieved my stomach a little as I entered his study , but returned immediately he barked ' Bend over and touch your toes boy!'
 Anyone who has had a cold slippering will appreciate just how much it hurt. The first two were full swing strikes shared on each buttock. Thereafter he covered every inch of my bottom with regular measured smacks. The burn grew rapidly to a scolding hot which had to be endured till he decided when to stop as there was no count to be made. I don't know what shoe size his slipper was but judging by his height I'd say about a twelve as he could spank both cheeks at once with a little manoeuvring. My yelps came with the first impact on the top of the thigh. 'Shit that hurts, I can't take much more of this ' Blub.
 Finally I was dismissed and found that straightening upright only increased the pain in my bum and so I quickly headed out of his study and straight down the corridor to the nearest boys toilets.
 Plug in , cold tap on full pelt while I yanked down my trousers and pants.
 ' Fuck , my arse hurts.' I thought as I tried to immerse it into way too small a basin.
 ' I wonder where the other guys went to ?'
 ' And which classroom shall we hide in tomorrow ?'
   Some kids will never learn , Hi , my name is Gary......    

The Great Spanking of ' 67

A thin layer of snow covered the playground when I arrived at school that morning. Throughout the rest of the morning more flurries made it just deep enough to leave a footprint and the whole class was eager to escape lessons for the lunch time break.
Finally the bell sounded and we all stood as one to be dismissed by Miss Clifford. The rush to exit the door was tempered by the fear of being called back by Miss for being too noisy or too rushed or too anything really. I had had my hand slapped by her ruler on more than one occasion in the past and so kept myself at a steady pace until exiting the door.
Outside the stampede to the playground meant many a smaller child was simply pushed aside, or over. On reaching the playground I found a snowball fight had already begun with two discernible sides formed at each end. Joining one I quickly gathered snow and began throwing snowballs at any target still enough to hit.
 The trouble was the tarmac surface was quite old and so loose stones were very prolific. Being only 9 years old and keen to make friends in this new school I gave it no thought at all until...
 ' Stop this at once ', bellowed from the direction of the main doorway.
 There stood the headmaster, Mr Harris, with an expression that stopped everyone in their tracks.
 ' There will be no snowballs thrown in this playground ', he said as he walked to the middle.
 ' You are picking up stones in amongst the snowballs and someone could easily be blinded if hit in the face by one , do I make myself clear  ?' he glowered at us.
 Disappearing back into the school doorway everyone mooched about looking for some other form of entertainment when a single snowball flew through the air. It was like a starting gun for everyone to resume the contest and within minutes the battle began again.
 ' Right!' ' Everybody inside now and line up outside my office.' a very red faced Mr Harris shouted.
 A certain amount of place changing ensued as the line grew to the full length of the corridor. I chose to be in the middle as I was still not aware of what was about to happen. In front of me was a girl I had seen before so I asked her what we could expect. She ignored me. Drawing my own conclusion that as there were several girls in the queue we would only be given a telling off.
 I hadn't paid much attention to the kids leaving his office until with three to go before me I saw a boy leaving with tears streaming down his cheeks.
 The penny dropped.
Stomach tightened and yet still I couldn't believe the girl in front would get the same treatment.
 I stood facing the door to his office and jumped slightly when it suddenly opened and the girl rushed out with head in hands. Slight sobs disappeared out the main door with her. I walked in and closed the door behind me.
 In front of me was a chair, the back of which faced me. Headmaster stood to the left side with a large black plimsoll in his hand.
 ' Bend over the chair boy,' he said in a matter of fact way.
 To this day I can remember the sting of that plimsoll as it impacted my small bottom. Four strokes, two on each cheek made it burn and throb within seconds.
 ' Now get out, next !' he yelled and I exited not looking at anything but the floor in front of me.
 Outside in the cool air I frantically looked for a snow pile against the wall of the building in which to sit in.
 True story.
 All I could think of as I sat there was the look of disdain on the face of Miss Clifford when I got back to my class. I well remember the shame I felt as I entered her doorway and yet she merely pointed to my desk at which I dutifully sat. Bottom still throbbing.

 My first spanking at school but as you will see later, not my last.  

Up the creek without a paddle

My headmaster posted a blog about the perils of the wooden paddle recently so I thought I would give my two pence worth from the receivers view point.
Now I am by no means a seasoned bottom, in fact my experience is quite limited, and short....Damn it !
Any hoo, to the subject of paddles of the wooden variety.
They hurt like the devil himself is biting your arse. It's not just the sting that hurts, they have an impact that is much heavier than say a leather one.
Now leather is a different kettle of fish, not only do they smack louder, they smart less and don't seem to bruise as easily.
What is a kettle of fish anyway ?
And leather straps are even better. Oh for a dose of the army belt again.....
How I miss it....That long strip of sting across both cheeks at once...Oooo. Awesome.
Of course I was very lucky, the headmaster is an expert at bringing your threshold higher gradually. He would always start with an O.T.K. spanking, sometimes over pants, sometimes straight on the bare, if I was lucky. Mind you, I always enjoyed it when my pants were pulled aside one side at a time to receive the sting of his hand. But then sometimes he would travel south to my thighs which I didn't enjoy quite as much. Made me squirm in fact.
I have a stubborn streak in me that won't allow myself to move out of position once put there by the headmaster. And yet I can remember two occasions where I was on the verge of doing just that.
One was the first time I got the dragon cane across my bare bottom. I was contemplating one of two courses of action. Either plead for him to stop or to stand up from bending over the table top. In the end ( pun intended ) I did neither and learned to trust his judgement. He never did me wrong.
The second time was when he introduced me to 'old vic'. An innocent looking wooden hairbrush that very likely was used to straighten Lady Hamiltons' or even Cleopatras' hair.
Needless to say it certainly straightened me out all right.Christ.
The choices in my head this time were either plead or cry. Although I did present a moving target for most of this paddle spanking I didn't actually move off his lap. Got very close to tears though. Again his judgement came to my rescue..Pheew.
So, to summarize, I am definitely NOT a fan of wooden paddles. They should all be left up the creek in my opinion.
Give me leather ones any day, Any day now please, anyone ?