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Saturday, 5 October 2019

Contact Point

Photo-story from Janus 52
Frustrated schoolmaster with traditional views on discipline invites naughty schoolgirl to report to his study for firm correction. Uniform provided. ALA.
The advertisement Keith Dobson placed in the contact magazine was the culmination of many emotions, largely suppressed, over many years. A senior teacher of maths and science at a modern comprehensive for girls, he was not alone among his colleagues in the frustration he felt about current educational policy on corporal punishment. With the cane banned by ‘enlightened’ purehearts, Keith had watched with dismay how general discipline in his school had crumbled. The once-mandatory smart uniforms had become sloppy or ignored, standards had slumped, teachers were jeered at, rules flouted, lessons disrupted by trouble-makers — and there were no means at all of controlling them except by cajolery. How often had his hand itched to reach for a cane and swipe it with judicious vigour across the tightly-knickered seat of one of the more raucous, insolent and idle girls.
The study referred to in the ad was a real one — a room in his house which he had furnished and decorated as an old-time Headmaster’s inner sanctum. It was his haven, his retreat — a make-believe world that paradoxically was very real to him, an escape into the values which had reigned when he was a boy, where misbehaviour by pupils was met with by controlled, firm-handed chastisement rather than impotent lectures answered with smirks.
On returning home after a trying day at school, it was one of the few pleasures in Keith Dobson’s bachelor life to escape into this secret den and there don traditional schoolmaster’s garb of gown and mortar-board. Here he would mark books, plan the next day’s work — and dream, longingly eyeing the selection of canes he had accumulated over the years. Canes which had never been used. Canes which, if the good old no-nonsense values were still in force, would have warmed up many a girlish backside long since, turning the tide of schoolgirl anarchy like a team of whippy heroes.
Hence the contact ad. It was of course a dream, the hoped-for enactment of a fantasy. Owing to his educational background Keith understood much about girls, but very little about women. Would any reply? A week went by after publication, then another, and he began to resign himself to a nil response. But one morning came a return envelope, unmistakably from the magazine office. He opened it with trembling fingers, choked by an extraordinary excitement and read: Dear Schoolmaster, Yes, I would like to report to your study. I am 23 and very naughty. Please phone to arrange. Claire Lake.
That evening, after passing the day in a daze of unfamiliar exhilaration, Keith telephoned the number given and a young female voice had answered. Keeping his own voice curt and authoritative, he had introduced himself as ‘Mister Dobson’ and asked for Claire Lake. It was she. Her tones at once lightened to a schoolgirlish timbre, albeit a trifle husky, the accent as racily imprecise as most of his pupils spoke. A time was arranged for Wednesday, at seven sharp.
And now that time was almost upon him. Frankly, Keith was in a dither of excitement. For the first time in his life he was going to thrash a girl. Crisply and robustly upon her bottom. Keith’s head swam at the prospect. As seven o’clock approached he paced about, more keyed-up than he could ever remember.
The doorbell rang! She was here! The school-teacher inhaled steadily to bring himself under control. He had decided that as this was a fantasy for them both, he should begin as he intended to continue. Accordingly, back went his shoulders, up went his chin, and he strode to the front door and opened it.
The first sight Claire had of the man whose ad she had answered was an austere, bespectacled figure gazing sternly down at her. Oh, he was perfect, she thought: the image of the ascetic mentor she’d conjured up in wickedly delicious fantasies ever since she had been at school — where there had been no corporal punishment, but she and her friends had often speculated about how it must be to bend across a chair or touch one’s toes and receive a sound trouncing. Indeed, the idea had thrilled Claire so much that she’d hardly considered the pain which would accompany such rituals.
As for Keith, his rather nervous-looking visitor was more than he had dared to hope for: young and sturdy, the very stuff of which the most disobedient and slovenly of his pupils were made, her features petulant and cheeky. When he snapped ‘Come in, Lake!’ she stepped indoors with thudding heart and followed him silently along a passage into a tidy, polished room with thick carpet and heavy curtains.
‘This,’ he announced coldly, ‘is my study.’
Claire gazed around in awe. It was indeed the beak’s study, frozen in time somewhere in the 1950s — a sensible desk, sober chairs; a smell of books and ink. And beside the desk stood a container with at least half a dozen crook-handled canes. Oh, it was a dream come true!
There were no unsettling niceties, no awkward prelims; the teacher was completely in charge. Fixing the girl with a bleak gaze which chilled her exquisitely, he handed her the uniform he had covertly purchased at the school’s outfitters. ‘Off you go and get changed,’ he instructed, directing her into a vestibule. ‘And be quick about it, girl!’ For Claire his very tone was bliss — hard and authoritative. Breathlessly she hurried away.
Keith Dobson closed the heavy curtains and switched on a lamp. Then, with great and joyful deliberation, he put on the old-style schoolmaster’s black gown and placed the mortar upon his head. Neither were permitted at school. There was a knock at the door.
‘Enter!’ he crisped, and the naughty schoolgirl stepped into his study. To Keith she was a vision made flesh in the familiar grey skirt, white blouse and tie of his school, clutching some exercise books she had brought with her. Keith saw her as a composite of all the unruly, shiftless girls who so richly deserved proper punishment. Claire herself looked as apprehensive as any pupil might who had reported for corporal chastisement — for although it had long been her prime bedtime fantasy to be thrashed on her bottom by a masterly man, she had never actually had it done to her.
And now it was about to happen! ‘I-I’ve brought my books, sir,’ she faltered. ‘Th-the ones you asked to see after lessons.’ Her eyes absorbed the real, real schoolmaster dressed in gown and mortar-board; and her knees began to shake. The imagined fear which had powered her private excitations was now a physical, nerve-tingling fact, chilling her goose-pimpled flesh.
‘Ah yes, Lake.’ For Keith, the fantasy had become reality: this was a pupil, and these her books. He sat at his desk and leafed through the dog-eared pages, quickly realising that they were indeed Claire Lake’s own, from her schooldays. And very scrappy too! Ill-spelt, badly-scrawled essays without thought or merit; the mathematics skimped and mostly wrong. Keith felt sure she had never been adequately disciplined for such disgraceful work. Indeed, it was why Claire had brought these particular books along, for she still harboured an uneasy guilt for her perennial idleness in class.
‘This is absolutely appalling,’ he said at last with terrifying quietness. ‘Look at this, girl. Look!’ Holding up each book in turn he pointed out the girl’s many mistakes with wearisome attention to detail, watching her face crumple with unsimulated dismay.
‘I’m sorry, sir,’ she said.
Sorry?’ Keith Dobson flung down the books in disgust and stood up. His ‘pupil’ flinched. He felt real anger, as all the frustrations accumulated during confrontations boiled up in him. But this time things were different, and had become as they should always be. ‘“Sorry” is hardly enough,’ he snapped. ‘You dare to present me with such trash as this? You’ve clearly paid no attention whatever during lessons, nor heeded any attempts at verbal discipline!’ Claire shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, biting a lip, shaken by his vehemence. ‘You leave me no alternative, Lake,’ he went on sternly, ‘but to give you a sound caning.’
‘Oh no, sir — not the cane!’ This was no charade any more, but alarmingly real. She was scared.
‘Yes, Lake, the cane.’ Keith began to count on his fingers, with cruelly protracted deliberation, the number of strokes she was to receive. When he reached ‘six’ Claire was praying he would stop, but the inexorable voice continued. ‘Seven, eight, nine, ten,’ he intoned. ‘Ten strokes, girl. On the buttocks.’
For the moment Claire was unable to speak, could only stare in mounting trepidation as he withdrew the sheaf of canes from the stand and selected one. It was long and slender — beautiful, somehow. ‘Lift your skirt to the waist and turn around, please,’ came the crisp tones. Nonplussed, the girl continued to gape. The instruction thrilled her profoundly, yet now it was actually about to happen she felt completely out of her depth and half of her regretted having come this far.
‘Do you hear me, Lake?’ This time the voice had a harder edge and a steely glare lit his eyes. Hesitantly Claire began to raise the hem. ‘Lift your skirt, I said!’ Impatiently he flipped the pleated garment up with the cane to reveal white cotton knickers beneath, and Claire shuddered with strange delight. She felt helpless, melting, out of control. ‘Remove your underclothing and kneel up on this chair,’ came the curt command.
Off, sir?’
‘Indeed,’ snapped the schoolmaster. ‘I intend to thrash your naked buttocks. I repeat, you will remove those knickers. At once!’
Weirdly enthralled, throbbing under the spell of his assertive domination, Claire’s fingers found the waistband and inched the panties down. She could feel his gaze tingling on her flesh as the smackably springy rounds of her rump came into view. The sensation was sheer enchantment as she kicked off the knickers and knelt up as bidden on the chair-seat, gripping its back. Her bottom, her bare bottom was fully displayed to him, and she stuck it out proudly in a spasm akin to lust.
Keith Dobson feasted his sight on the luscious, petal-soft, creamy mounds presented to him, and gloried in the notion that they were his to thrash, to control, to spare or condemn. With a curiously peaceful contentment he positioned the girl’s knees just so, arranged the angle of her body a little more upright. Then he drew back the cane, paused for an ecstatic moment, and brought it smartly down to collide with a swish-snap across the exact centre of those delightfully lush buttocks, watching how the rattan sank into the quivering moons of flesh before springing back.
‘Aaaghh!’ Claire’s harsh cry was not just of pain. It was shock! She had never imagined that a cane’s bite could hurt so much, each tender cheek responding to the opening stroke as though a scalding wire had been laid upon it. Keith at once cocked his wrist and, aiming for the left buttock, splatted the cane against it with a whippy flicking motion.
‘N-no-no-o-o!’ came the cawing wail as pain again flared like flame-spurts into the wobbly ripeness. ‘It hurts, it hurts!’ screeched Claire. Agonised tears blinded her, filling her nasal cavities, making her choke.
‘Quiet!’ crisped the schoolmaster, icily controlled. ‘You will take the punishment you deserve, girl.’ He watched intrigued how the thigh and buttock muscles locked and tensed in barely supportable anticipation of the next blazing stroke; then he again brought back the cane and swished it through the air to land with explosive biting precision against the lower curves of the ripely shivering globes.
‘Ah-ah-ah-ahh!…’ Incoherent with distress, Claire fell forward across the chair-back, three magenta lines now marking the previously untouched skin of her mother-naked nates. She couldn’t bear any more, just couldn’t! An inferno raged in the place where she normally sat, and again her voice hit the ceiling in a piercing shriek as the rattan hissed in once more and smacked against the screaming flesh.
Four.’ Keith was warming to it now. Already he was in love with this noble bottom that had taken upon itself to represent so many other young feminine behinds that would sadly never feel the lick of his cane, however well-merited. Pausing to savour the crimsoning surfaces, he swung the cane exultantly, feeling it sink with a thwack into the soft lower cheeks of that jutting, swaying arse. The impact jolted up his arm. Her whole body arched like a bow, then sagged as the pain-shock was absorbed. Keith couldn’t withhold a cry of pleasure as it struck — a cry which blended with her shriek of ‘NO!
The girl jerked her body upright again. ‘I h-had no idea it would hurt s-so…’ she sobbed.
Her protests were unheeded, for this punishment was in earnest. WHACK! Keith continued to swing the cane, lashing it with sweet ferocity across the smooth softnesses of the heroic buttocks. ‘Six!’ he called. Then, before the fiery sting could possibly begin to recede, another swiping blast overlapped the previous vivid pain-slash and caused the girl to grunt like an animal as the stick loudly contacted the tortured nether-cheeks. Claire again arched her back in agony, inadvertently thrusting out her crimson-streaked buttocks towards the cane as if eager for more — and, as if responding to the invitation, the swishy instrument leaped forward to smack meatily against their topmost slopes.
Eight,’ gasped Keith. In Claire’s reeling senses the schoolmaster’s voice and the sound of the cane had become as one, stern and slicing, crisply biting.
‘N-no more,’ she blubbered through contorted lips. ‘I can’t…’ As her voice cracked Claire squirmed off the chair with her knees and sank back on to it in a sitting position, grimacing and weeping.
‘How dare you!’ roared the teacher, outraged. ‘Stand up! Turn around! Your thrashing is not yet complete.’
Despite herself, Claire half-stood, bewildered to find her limbs responding to his command. ‘I-it hurts too much,’ she whimpered.
‘Silence!’ Keith grasped the skirt and shoved it high up the girl’s back, the force in his hands surprising him. ‘Feet on the floor,’ he snapped. ‘Present your naked bottom!’
‘No more, please!’ she shrieked.
‘You will do as I say,’ he bit out. Forcing her into an upright stance Keith whipped the hissing rattan once, twice, in rapid succession against the girl’s blazing bottom. ‘Nine, ten,’ he called as the stick bit snappingly into the pliant flesh and sprang back from it.
Claire was sobbing profusely, and after the final stroke she did not move. Incredibly, she lamented that it had ended. She didn’t know why she waggled her blushing derriere, indeed it seemed to waggle itself — and Keith didn’t miss the blatant invitation.
‘For your defiant behaviour in daring to get off the chair before your punishment was over,’ he intoned, ‘you will receive one more stroke.’
‘No-o,’ whimpered Claire — yet she yelped in dark delight as the cane struck a final emphatic blow against her upper buttocks in a salute to her willingness and fortitude. Keith tried to disguise his gasp of joy, and stifled his desire to smother her burning seat with soothing caresses.
So utterly absorbed had both been in the chastisement, it was difficult to struggle back to the reality of their situation. The caning had hurt far more than Claire had imagined, yet now it was over warm pulses were swarming through her blood, radiating heat and pleasure throughout her body from a point centred on her wickedly smarting bottom. And Keith saw that she, after all, was not one of his slovenlier pupils, but a woman.
A minute or two passed in which they contemplated one another; then he reached out, unfastened the school tie, and tugged it off. Claire regarded him intently, with a mysterious yearning. ‘Yes, oh yes,’ sang the words in her mind — ironic after all the pleas of ‘No’ she had uttered. ‘Take it off,’ he said. Slowly, enticingly, she unbuttoned the school blouse and pulled her arms out of the sleeves, to reveal two extremely womanly breasts, full and nakedly swelling.
Keith made no attempt to disrobe himself, but sat down and surveyed the woman, her enquiring face and exposed breasts, a hand resting on the cane he had used to thrash her bottom. The tension became acute. She wondered what he was going to do. Was there a hint of a smile on his stern features as the minutes ticked on; a twinkle behind the bleak glasses? Claire couldn’t be sure, and as the pain-heat in her rear end began to scorch ever more thrillingly, converting to dampness and longing, making her sigh and squirm, her nipples stood out so stiffly and erectly that he could surely be in no doubt of what his caning had done to her.
But if Keith Dobson knew, he did not show it. Not yet…


  1. Brilliant. And I counted at least 12 hard strokes on her patterned bum at the end. A proper caning.

    1. And she has breasts which would be grabbed, mauled and generally included in this process. It would be impossible to leave them alone: that’s why she looks so nervous

  2. Super photo story! Reminds me so much of when I was 20 many, many years ago. I visited an old chap (and his wife) who dressed like Mr Dobson. There was a much longer build up but along the same lines as Claire experienced in this story. He caned me - six of the very best with a very springy cane - in his study over regulation knickers. I visited them again many times! Judy

  3. What a beautiful girl and what a gorgeous canning! I could have done with fewer of the numerous photos of her chastiser but it is a wonderfully photographed shoot - atmospheric and charged. Her painful distress is exquisite.

  4. Bob here.
    Totally agree with you,Milady de Larmes.A really lovely young lady...and
    those expressions on her face certainly
    helped to tell this tale as much as the
    well deserved stripes on her bottom.
    A great story and a great model.

  5. Bob here.
    Enjoyed your post,Judy.You mentioned regulation knickers,so I presume you attended at least some of these sessions in school uniform,or a reasonable mock-up of one perhaps ?
    Would love to read more about your experiences with this couple,should you
    wish to indulge us all.

  6. Bob - I would not wish to divert blog readers away from this amazing material! However, yes, I actually wore my uniform from a couple of years beforehand as it still fitted me and did fit me for a while after. My visits were friendly and usually involved lunch or tea when we would discuss CP and what we would do in the coming session. The first few sessions involved hand spanking and the slipper or gym shoe then moved on to the cane by about the fourth visit. It was done in an authentic way with the usual ticking off, waiting outside the study and so on. His partner was also spanked and caned on occasions. I mark quite well so had weals to be inspected and they depended upon the cane being used and the strength of the caning. Of course, way back then use of the cane was still relatively common in society but this was role play for mutual pleasure.

  7. Bob here.
    Hi Judy,
    Thank you for your kind and detailed response to my question.
    It sounds like that was a wonderful and
    very fulfilling set of experiences in your life.It is lovely that you found some great people to explore mutual fantasies with.
    I will understand if you do not want to
    answer/reply to any further questions,and will totally respect your
    decision accordingly,but may I ask if you continued to explore your attraction to spanking after this period in your life,and if so,how such
    later encounters compared with your earlier adventures ?
    Whatever the case,I am very grateful to you for your kind response,and hope that we will see further comments from you on future posts here on this superb blog.
    Kindest regards,

    1. Bob, may be best to discuss via email. Judy

  8. Bob, happy to discuss but was wary of any 'rules' of this blog! It was quite a thrill to continue to be caned etc as a young adult. Judy

    1. No problem with any rules Judy - feel free to discuss here if you wish.

  9. Bob here.
    Thank you for your response,Judy,and thank you,fleas63,for your permission to discuss things further here on your blog,should Judy be willing to do so.
    Please do consider sharing more of your
    adventures with us,Judy.
    Spanking related blogs rarely get many
    posts from ladies,and I think fleas63 and others here would agree that we are
    a friendly,welcoming community,who enjoy sharing our opinions on all the great material to be found here,as well as discussing fantasies,experiences,implement choices
    and just about any aspect of the whole
    world of spanking.
    We would all love to hear more about your experiences,and do bare in mind that you can/probably should use made up names for any real people involved,in order to respect their privacy.
    So a warm welcome to you from all of us
    here and I do hope you will join in the
    fun.Thanks again for your kind responses,Judy.
    Good wishes

  10. Gosh, all so kind! Yes I would always change names even for anyone no longer with us. I'll post again as soon as I have some free moments. Judy

  11. Bob here.
    Hi Judy,
    Thanks once more for your kind response
    and comments.
    Look forward very much to hearing more from you in the future,as and whenever
    you wish.
    With kindest regards

  12. Hi. I can understand the interest of readers so where do I start? I was caned at school and at home, well by ‘at home’ I mean by a neighbour. My dear dad was away a lot and mum had a friend nearby who used a cane on her daughter so I was sent round there if very naughty. Why didn’t mum buy a cane? No idea to this day. When at college I met an older couple who, it turned out, were into corporal punishment. I had met them socially a number of times and had been to their house half a dozen times before the subject of a mutual interest in spanking was broached. To cut a long story short, one day soon after, I was at their house with my old uniform in a holdall. We had a long chat about the subject and both of them had been slippered and caned as youths and continued as adults. They showed me round their house so we could talk about role play in the bedroom, sitting room, across the kitchen table or in their olde worlde study with polished floor boards, rugs, bookshelves, an old favourite armchair and a cupboard with many canes, tawses, a martinet and slippers; there was black gown, mortar board and punishment book. Their collection of canes was breath-taking – different lengths, thicknesses, straight, crook handles. At the first session she (we will call H) took me up to a bedroom and watched as I undressed until nude then put on my uniform – it all still fitted though I had new shoes (I had, of course, tried it on several times in the days before the visit). Downstairs the scenario we enacted involved a detention, lines and then a stern telling off before going over his (we will call him G) lap for a sound spanking. I had to stand in the corner for half an hour and H spanked me. I was sent up to change and H came with me and inspected my red bottom. We then had tea. My next visit involved spanking again. The next time it was spanking and the slipper but the slipper was with me in gym knickers and vest only. The next occasion resulted in the cane for the first time for nearly 2 years. I will work out how much to write and add a new blog message. Judy

  13. Bob here.
    WOW! That was a post and a half!
    I am already very much looking forward
    to your next instalment.
    I (and I imagine others here) have so many questions I would love to ask you.
    A sort of "Ask Judy" spot sort of thing,if that is okay with you.At the same time,I don't want to flood you with too many questions at once,so promise to keep to a limit of maybe one or two at a time.
    First,however,let me comment on your post in general.I was fascinated by the
    fact that earlier in your life,when naughty,you would be caned by a neighbour.what an experience that must
    have been for you.
    From your description of G's study,I can well understand now why you related
    so much to the story "Contact Point" and it's characters.
    The build up of friendship and trust you had with H and G comes across in your words and must have been so nice
    and reassuring for you,Judy.Even the way they took their time in accustoming
    You to different levels of punishment.
    They were clearly a very special couple of people.
    Couple of questions,Judy.Do you remember the first time you realised you had a real feeling of enjoying cp,rather than just accepting it as punishment for being naughty ?
    Also,I loved the way you described all the different types of canes that H and G had.Did you have a particular favourite amongst them,and is the cane
    your favourite implement ?
    Thank you as always for your great responses,Judy.
    Best and warmest wishes to you

    1. Hi again. I began to realise I had an interest when being slippered in the gym one afternoon and having a tingling bottom on the bus on the way home and then later when being caned by the neighbour. The cane is my favourite. The selection they had was amazing and when they showed them to me I was able to handle some of them and feel the difference between them. Judy

  14. Bob here.
    Thanks again for another great response.
    Was the school you attended
    particularly strict or was it more that
    You were particularly naughty,do you think ? What aspect of being caned is the part that attracts you most to that
    implement ? Is it the sharp,biting sting ? The sound it makes swooshing through the air...or something else ?
    Kind regards,

  15. Bob here.
    Really looking forward to your next post and hearing your recollections about your first six of the best from G
    in his study.
    Kindest regards

  16. Ok, Bob. This may explain why this article/story on here made such an impression on me. I had visited these friends several times but now it was time to move on to the cane. We had lunch, discussed the situation for later and I was sent up to get changed. H came up and watched me undress. She checked my bottom and said it would not be as smooth by the time I went home! I then had to write an essay and this was marked. There were many errors so I had 200 lines to do. It was three short. H then put me over the desk and slippered me soundly across my regulation knickers. I had to write another 50 lines. H then produced my end of term report and went through it subject by subject. G came in and it was explained how badly I had done. He asked H what she intended to do about this. H said she felt that a caning might make me buck up my ideas but a further slippering might do for now. G thought about this and asked what I thought. I said that a detention would be better but H pointed out I’d had one and lines. G decided that there was no alternative and I should be caned. A few minutes later I was outside the study facing the wall. Inside I could hear G and H discuss my report and debate whether a caning was deserved. H tried to get me off it but G insisted. H then agreed and called me in. I stood in front of his desk and he went through the report again subject by subject. He looked the part in gown and mortar board. There was a period of silence then G announced I would receive six of the best. He fetched a cane from his selection and H told me to bend over. She lifted my gymslip and took care to tuck it out of the way tidily. I could still touch my toes – I can picture the rug even now. G flexed and swished the cane and placed it across my bottom. He drew it back and delivered a stinger – my first for 2+ years. I rose a little but was told to hold my position. The next two strokes were stingers. H placed her hand on my shoulder to keep me in position. The next two stung as well. The cane was tapped harshly on my cheeks then number six was given and it really stung. I yelped. G told me to stand. He gave H the cane to put away and wrote my punishment in his book. I had to face the wall for ten minutes while G instructed H on how to improve my exam marks next term. G then sent me upstairs to change. I undressed and was examining my bottom in a full length mirror when G and H came in. There were six long well raised weals on my cheeks rather like Claire’s bottom. I had no concerns being naked with them. G went down to make a pot of tea and H watched as I dressed but I decided to remain without pants for the rest of the day. The next day H called at my digs and I showed her my bottom. Judy

  17. Bob here.
    Thanks you so much for another superb post and for being such a good sport to
    continue to discuss your experiences and answer my questions.I very much appreciate you taking the time and trouble to do so.
    One of the things that strikes me about
    your sessions with H and G is the sheer
    level of realism they injected into the
    roleplay,including lines,detentions,waiting outside the study door..even a punishment book to
    record details of you and (I assume) H's punishments in.I want to ask if,even though you all obviously knew that you were roleplaying,there were any moments when,however briefly,you genuinely believed you were back in your real school days ?
    Also,how did these "spanking for mutual pleasure" sessions compare with your genuine school experiences ? Were the
    experiences very similar to you in their intensity,or vastly different ?
    Lastly,I hope you won't mind if you could describe what you look/looked like now/then,ie: colour of hair,eyes,height etc.Just so I can get
    a better mental image of you in mind,if that is okay with you.At the moment,I am picturing you as a bit like the girl
    in the story.
    Thank you once more for your efforts.
    Looking forward to your next post with much anticipation as always.
    Kindest regards

  18. Bob, so many questions! I was 5’ 6” and slim (seem to have lost half and inch now!) but with small firm breasts so not like Claire. My hair is dark brown and back then was long and tied in a plait usually with a blue ribbon. I had a substantial bush of thick curly pubic hair and quite a bit between my cheeks; one of my good friends who had very little pubic hair used to be envious. In those days few ladies shaved unlike nowadays. It is fair to say I was pretty and never had any problem with boys chatting me up. I was quite athletic and a good cross country runner (in fact as I write this I see an athlete has just done a marathon in under two hours – what a star!). My bottom was quite well padded with a deep cleavage. Brown eyes. Yes the sessions were as authentic as they could be among friends except that I could, of course, walk away at any time. What tipped it was the old house, musty study, gown and implements. On reflection the other things that aided realism is that this was in that very era so it took little effort to re-create. Yes H was also punished and after one early session when I was changing she slipped her pants down to show me residual marks – later I did see her get caned etc. I think that these sessions were far more relaxed than school (of course!) and I could for example argue knowing that if say extra strokes were given I did want them. Judy

  19. Bob here.
    Thank you as usual for your latest post.I am so sorry if I asked too many
    questions at once in my last post.
    I do apologise.You sound from your description like a very beautiful woman indeed.I loved the notion of the ribbon
    in your hair.From the way you described
    the era,I am guessing these events took place back in the fifties or sixties,or possibly the seventies.You evoke the musty,book lined,carpeted feel of a study so well with your words,Judy.
    I am keen to learn how things progressed with H and G,or if you feel
    you have covered that enough,what your
    next spanking experiences were,perhaps.
    In common with,I suspect,the vast majority of people into spanking,I have
    a real love of that authentic schoolgirl type theme.I also love victorian/edwardian spanking literature,whether period or modern fiction or real life accounts or memoirs.I wonder if this is a period in
    history that appeals to you ? I also love that whole "jolly hockeysticks" era of the thirties,too,plus the fifties and sixties,whether in home or scholastic scenarios.
    Anyway,I look forward to your next post,Judy.
    Very best wishes

  20. Bob, no, not too many questions! I have fond memories of that era - the 60s and 70s were a great time and my favourite period rather than Victorian or Edwardian Britain. The 20s, 30s and 40s were the period my teachers/parents/aunts etc would have experienced the cane if they received it. I did wonder if any of those who caned/slippered me ever had it themselves. When writing that last piece I took a deep breath and felt I could sense the smell of that study. I still have an off-cut of that ribbon in my dressing table drawer and just took it out to look at it again. Later I can tell you a little more about sessions with H and G. I expect you'd like to know about H! Judy

  21. Bob here.
    I grew up in the sixties and seventies
    too,so we are of a similar age,and I agree with you very much that that was a great period of time.The thirties-fifties is a great period to fantasise
    about,and I often do,along with my love
    of Victorian era scenarios...and others.I like reading/watching or fantasising about cp in all manner of ways.
    How wonderful that you still have some
    of that ribbon and that you could almost smell that old study as you wrote.I am not actually that surprised,though.I have long believed
    that almost everyone who has an interest in corporal punishment has a
    powerful sense of time and place.A musty smell or a piece of ribbon;an old
    book or an item of clothing,or any number of things,can summon up a delicious memory or spark a glorious fantasy.I hope you won't mind me saying
    that I am imagining that ribbon in your
    hair as I type this,Judy,not in a creepy way I hasten to add,but with genuine respect and admiration,as your
    responses really are so very much appreciated by me indeed.
    Going back to G and H...yes,I would love to learn more about H and your further adventures back then,and look forward to reading more about her and you in your next post.
    I forgot to mention last time how much
    I enjoyed your earlier description of being blessed with a copious amount of pubic hair,Judy.I think a "lady garden"
    is something every woman should sport
    with pride.I realise that not all men
    would agree with that opinion these days,but personally I think a woman with a bush looks wonderful...most erotic,in fact.
    Anyway,enough waffle from me for now.
    Very much look forward to your next post,Judy.
    Kindest regards as ever

  22. Bob here...again!
    Just had a thought,Judy.What did you think of the whole "50 shades" book/slash films of a couple of years back ? I saw the first couple of films
    and skimmed through (but did not purchase or read) the books and personally found it all rather tame and
    dare one say a bit too..."vanilla",perhaps ? Mind you,I do
    think those books and films probably have helped a whole new generation of young adults to discover spanking,roleplay,bondage etc.
    What did you make of the whole "50.."
    thing,Judy ?
    Warmest regards

  23. Bob here.
    Hope all is good with you.Very much looking forward to learning more about
    your adventures with H and G,as and when you post them.
    Genuinely do look forward to hearing from you so very much,Judy.
    Please post soon.
    Respectfully yours
    With all good wishes

  24. Bob here.
    Not seen a post from you for a couple
    of days now,which seems a bit odd as I
    thought we had developed quite a good vibe between us and I always loved hearing back from you.
    Your lack of further responses leads me
    to fear that I may have said something
    to upset you,perhaps ? I don't know for
    sure unless you let me know,of course,but if I have upset you,I am truly and sincerely sorry.Most everyone
    who posts here on this blog frequently
    indulge in wild and spicy opinions and/or fantasies in the back and forth
    of communal banter.You need only check out some of the many extensive comment
    threads on this blog to see that this is true;and I am as prone to getting a bit carried away sometimes as much as
    anyone else who posts here...but it is
    just spicy,naughty adult fun and fantasy on what is,after all,a spanking
    related adult site. We all quite sensibly use made up names here for the
    most part.My real name isn't "Bob" anymore than (okay,I am assuming here)
    yours is probably "Judy".But what does
    any of that matter really ? We all have our real private lives,and it is (generally speaking) pretty highly unlikely that any of us here (or on any
    other blog) are ever going to meet up in the flesh/ the real world etc.
    But again,so what ? That's okay.It's perfectly fine.
    Anyway (as usual) I have waffled on too much.If,as I say,I have inadvertently upset you,then I am honestly,truly so sorry,Judy.If I have not upset you and you have perhaps just tired of trading comments with me,that's okay.No problem.If this is the end of our little thread (and I honestly hope not)
    again,no problem.
    I still thank you for taking the time to connect here with me at all and all your lovely responses.
    All the best,Judy.
    Sincerely yours,

  25. Just been busy! Retired folk usually are! Catch up soon. Judy

  26. Bob here.
    Oh...I feel like such a daft old sausage now.Please forgive my last couple of texts and silliness.
    Of course you have other matters to attend to...I should have realised that
    instead of reacting in the daft way I did.
    Once again,so sorry for being so daft,
    Look forward to hearing from you soon.
    Best wishes
    Silly,embarrassed Bob.

  27. Bob – just before I go on holiday for a few days I can tell you about the first time I saw H spanked and caned. This was not a planned session as such. G had to go away on business from time to time and I had called round to see H as I had tickets for a local amateur dramatic group show while G was away. It was about 30 minutes before G had to go and he made a comment that H needed to ‘be good’ while he was away. She blushed and said ‘it wouldn’t happen again’. G gave her a rather stern look and I wanted to de-code all these signs. (It turned out that she had dropped a box of a dozen eggs from the basket of her bicycle on the way home that morning and broken the lot.) I innocently asked if H had been spanked for whatever she did. H admitted that she had but G said a reminder before he left would be advisable but that it should be a caning in their study. H glanced at me and blushed but agreed. She took my hand and said I must come too. We went to their study and H placed a chair by the desk. G selected a cane from the cupboard and came over to the chair. H bent right over with her hands holding the rung below the seat and steadied herself. G asked me to raise her skirt. I was in a real spin but lifted it and placed it over her back so it would not fall down. She was wearing white pants and her bare legs were very smooth. Between her legs I could see a few wisps of pubic hair outside the line of her pants. G, as was his manner, tapped the cane on her bottom then gave her six cracking strokes of the cane. H made a gasp or grunt at each one but held her position well. It was fascinating to see the cane flex and sound was amazing from where I was standing. I had a perfect view. G put the cane away and H stood and tidied herself as well as having a rub. G came back to her and they kissed and held each other tightly. A short time later H walked with G the short distance to the station and left me to set the kitchen table for some lunch. I also sneaked into their study and looked at the collection of canes etc they had and handled several. When H returned we hugged and I asked how she felt. It was obvious she was very aroused by what had happened. We had lunch and I asked H if she would cane me. H agreed but said she would like to spank me first. In their study she sat on the same chair she had bent over and I went over her lap. My summer dress was lifted and she spanked me thoroughly. I stood up and rubbed my bottom and smiled at H and she smiled back. She then confirmed that I wanted to be caned and I said that I certainly did. H and I went to the cupboard and we chose a cane. It was a good length and quite smooth and springy. “Judy, you had better go and bend over the chair.” I went back to the chair and bent right over. H lifted my dress. I felt the cane touch my bottom and then two quick strokes bit me. H gave the next two but harder which made me gasp but louder than she had done. The fifth was a stinger and the last as was the tradition really bit well. “Remain in position” H said as she put the cane away. H came back and her hand caressed my sore bottom. I stood and we hugged. H said that she had another task to do. She took out their punishment book and opened it. She wrote in her own caning and then mine. That was when I saw G’s name and details of spankings etc in there. H then asked “shall we go upstairs. I have some cream that will help?” I said nothing but took her hand and we went up to their bedroom. “Let’s undress” she said. Soon we were both naked and I saw H’s bare body for the first time. She had very firm pointed breasts and like me a thick bush of pubic hair but with a neater edge. Her bottom was, of course, nicely striped. I lay face down on the bed and she applied the cream Suffice to say that sometime later we got off the bed and shared a bath and remained naked all afternoon until I went home. The memory remains fresh all these years later. Judy

  28. Bob here.
    Oh my goodness! What a wonderful post
    from you.Great,vivid descriptions as usual.I love that after H had been caned and had gone to see G off at the station, you went back into the study to handle and admire their ex tensile
    cane collection.I can just imagine you
    examining and perhaps swishing some of them and wonduring about the intensity
    of bite and sting of each whippy rod.
    I know you are getting set to go on holiday for a few days,so if you don't
    have time to answer any questions now,I
    will understand but would be grateful if you could do so in your next post when you return.
    You must have found watching H get the
    cane incredibly exciting.Was this the
    first time you had witnessed another girl being caned,or had you seen (or at least heard) when it happened to other girls back in your school days ?
    Finally,did H have brown hair like yourself,or was she blonde or a redhead
    or what ?
    I hope you have a lovely and relaxing
    holiday,Judy.Thank you once again for such a superb post and I will patiently
    but eagerly await your next one.
    Huge thanks,Judy,as always.
    With respect
    and very warmest regards,
    from Bob.

  29. She had black hair. Yes it was the first time I had seen a caning. Handling some of their canes was magical and I held their tawses as well. Judy

  30. Bob here.
    Thank you for answering those points.
    From the way you write about the cane (indeed,canes)it sounds like you have a
    real fascination for them that seems like real affection and I already know
    that they are your favourite anyway,of course.They are my favourite implement
    too,Judy.You mentioned the tawse.Have
    you had much experience of that legendary strap and if so have you felt
    it only across ,say, your bottom and thighs,or have you felt it's fiery kiss across the palms of your hands as well ?
    By the by,Judy,is it okay to keep exchanging posts with you while you are
    on holiday,or would you prefer/be more
    convenient for you if we waited till after your break before carrying on ?
    Either is fine with me.
    Thank you as always,Judy.
    Very best wishes

  31. Bob, I have had the tawse across my backside many times but not the hands - leave that to the Scots! Best to pause until back from a holiday as will not have access to a computer at my friends' house. Judy

  32. Bob here.
    All understood.Once again,I hope you have a great holiday,Judy.Have a great time.Just post here as normal when you
    get back and are ready to post again and we can continue then with more about your adventures and any and all else cp related.
    I look forward to your next post,Judy.
    Cheers for now.
    Best wishes

  33. One of the first mags I bought

  34. Bob here.
    Just wondering if you are back from your holiday as yet ?
    Very much enjoy your entertaining and interesting posts,so do hope you will
    resume posting here soon.
    Best wishes

  35. Bob (and anyone else following our conversation) - I am back from a lovely holiday in glorious Wales first then the West Country. On the way back yesterday I met an old male friend who gave me a long spanking and a very sound caning so I am in the mood to reply! H was a beauty and I enjoyed being caned by her and G and seeing them take CP too until I was allowed to administer it to them. I continued through adult life on an off and the magic of corporal punishment has never left though my activity is less frequent now. That is why seeing this photo story of Keith and Claire was so nice. His suit and glasses were timeless. Now, I see that this item has created 36 or so comments so I wonder if we leave it at that. Judy

  36. Bob here.

    Thank you for catching up with me here
    again.I am so glad that you had such a
    lovely holiday and even some naughty fun too,you bad girl.Ha ha!
    This has indeed been a long,long thread.As far as whether we continue to swap posts or not(whether here or perhaps on the comments section of one
    of the more recent posts maybe ?),then,speaking for myself,I would love to continue to connect with you and discuss anything cp related that you wish:opinions, other experiences,
    fantasies..anything.I really do like
    chatting with you here,Judy,very much indeed.
    However,if you would rather not continue,I will fully understand and respect your decision,Judy.
    For what it is worth still these days,
    you have my word that I will respect your decisionext without question or quibble,I promise you.I really hope...and to continue,but it is entirely your choice,Judy.
    If you could post here and let me know
    either way,I would really appreciate that.
    With huge respect

  37. Bob here.
    Having considered your above post,I was
    perhaps not "reading between the lines"
    clearly enough to realise that maybe you were gently trying to say there that you would rather leave it at that.
    If that was indeed the case,please forgive me.Subtle hints tend to go over my head sometimes...way over,on occasion. Ha ha!
    Anyway,long story short,I will move along now.
    In this final post,allow me to thank
    you with all sincerity and respect for
    your kindness and generosity in swapping so many comments here with me.
    I am truly grateful to you,Judy.
    Thank you.

    With all good wishes

  38. Loved this story and the many comments that followed
    I've always been fascinated by spanking and especially caning, both giving and receiving and also school uniforms and smart clothes which are essential in the caning scenario to my mind.

  39. The idiocy of having a teacher wearing a mortarboard while caning a modern schoolgirl. Only one step down the scale of stupidity from having the girl wear a boater in such circumstances, as some photoshoots and videos did.