Room 2D

 

The spanking had gone on for nearly 20 minutes now. Tilly was sobbing and howling, tears streaming from her eyes, hands frantically grabbing at anything within reach. She bucked and squirmed and wriggled on Eric’s lap, her desperate movements adding to the considerable pleasure he was feeling already. ‘Come along girl,’ he said between hard smacks on her deliciously red bottom. ‘Let’s be having the truth shall we? I can keep doing this all evening if need be.’ Part of him hoped she would continue protesting her innocence. He had found Tilly and Violet behind the church, whispering and giggling to each other. When confronted they said they had been told to wait there after choir practice because the Reverend wanted to speak to them in his office. They were in an excitable state because during the practice session they had been told that the choir had been accepted into the Inter-Parish Choir Challenge and it seemed more than likely they would be travelling to London for the finals. Th

‘I found the cane old boy, Silly little thing had tried to hide it in with her hockey stick! That deserves another 12 at least I think.’

‘Come along now Vicky. On your knees and hold Mr Jones’ hands. It was his window you smashed so it’s only fair he gets a good look at you while I cane that naughty little bottom of yours. And if you ask him nicely he might agree to let you off a few strokes…’

A story with an illustration from Darcy The weekends were always Cyril's favourite time of the weekend. Unsurprisingly, Violet, his young niece, felt differently. Since she’d come to stay with her uncle while her mother ‘got better’, which was how the family referred to her occasional visits to the rehab clinic, she had grown to dread the end of the week. On school nights she would receive the occasional spanking. But, on Friday, Cyril cleared the evening so that he might properly administer the corrective discipline a wayward young girl like Violet needed. After dinner at 6.30 she would be sent to shower and make herself presentable, before meeting in the lounge at 7.30, hair neatly brushed, a modicum of makeup permitted and in her school uniform. Cyril would lecture her as to the dangers of drink and drugs. The lecherous desires of young men. The temptations that a girl’s own physical cravings created. All this while she squirmed and wriggled over his lap as he spanked her te

‘Come on. Show us how you do it you little slut.’

The club members ensure that the new waitress’s first night is a memorable one

Reverend White gives generously of his time to make sure the girls in the choir stay focused

Back by popular demand... The Reverend White could never be accused of sparing the rod

The Reverend White takes a keen interest in the development of the girls of the Parish

‘We’re not finished yet young lady…’ The spanking was awful. Then he caned her and she cried like a little girl. But this is the part she hates the most. ‘Let’s have a little check shall we? I know what you young sluts get up to. I’m sure you’ve let the boys have a good feel of this already, haven’t you.’ ‘No! I haven’t! I really haven’t.’ ‘Well you say that. But it feels to me like you’ve already had a finger or two up here. I’ve barely touched you and you’re dripping wet already. You dirty little thing. Come on, open those legs. Let’s see if you’re still intact shall we.’

My latest young houseguest is a terrible wriggler. During each of the daily caning sessions she has earned, she cries and pleads and wriggles and, seemingly unable to muster even the slightest degree of self control, tries to avoid discipline by placing her hands in front of the delightfully plump target area. I have recently tried to help her maintain a little dignity — and to keep her sensitive hands from receiving too many hard blows — by tucking her wrists inside the tight waistband of her lowered knickers. They are of course several sizes too small, so I find they hold her hands quite firmly in place. It’s all for her own good of course, and I find the ritual of preparing her just so helps me to focus. Even if it does start her crying even sooner.

Inside the manager’s office of the BSB High Street Bank, young Mary Piper found herself in a terrible position. Although, of course that’s a matter of perspective. To her it was terrible, truly, truly, awful, not to mention shameful and humiliating. She was kneeling on a hard stool in front of the manager, Mr Brown, and the assistant manager Mr Dock. She was naked from the waist down, if you didn’t count her long white school socks and her shoes. Which she didn’t. But to Mr Dock and Mr Brown it was a quite delightful display, and certainly not the first time they had enjoyed such a show, although not with Mary involved. The scheme had been Mr Dock’s brilliant idea. He reached out to the local schools and suggested they bring their older pupils to the bank for a morning visit. They could learn about the industry and also be informed as to the value of taking a disciplined approach to managing their own financial affairs later in life. The bank benefited by offering the youngsters the

Two lovely drawings from Darcy today. Come along now. Take them right off. You know you deserve it. Sometimes he deliberately makes her wait while he reads the school report. Sometimes accidents happen. Which means sometimes he has two good reasons to punish her.

A treat for Leap Day. No less than five original illustrations of this excellent story from Darcy. To many of his closer acquaintances Charles Beaumont appeared to be blessed with extraordinary good luck He had succeeded in business and had retired early. He had a nice house surrounded by well-tended gardens that offered a relaxing oasis of calm and, crucially, privacy. Single for most of his life, he had recently married and now had a wife, June, and her teenage daughter Billie. Both of whom, as those close acquaintances knew, were regularly subjected to old-school discipline. Was it luck that such ripe fruit had fallen into his lap, a lap they both squirmed and squealed over, or was it something else? Well, if you were to ask Charles he would tell you that there’s no such thing as luck. Disciplined and focused he had chosen a career he knew he could succeed in and would bring him the financial security and comfort he deserved.