Room 2D

By DH from Februs 21, with some lovely Paula Meadows illustrations Chairs are for sitting on, I know, but there is no doubt that if you are sitting on an armless chair, then there should be, spread across your knees, some bare-bottomed supplicant who has well-deserved the spanking you are about to deliver. She may not  think  she has deserved it, but, nevertheless that is why she will be there and why you are sitting on a wooden chair in the middle of the room so that there is ample room for kicking legs and flailing arms. Even in so simple a matter as a childish spanking over the knees, though, there are finer points to consider. Should she be stripped completely before you pull her over your lap? Should she simply have to pull her knickers down and, if so, should she do this herself or would you prefer to attend to this task? Should she be made to lie across your knee of her own accord? Should she have to stand betwee...

An interview with Monday’s video star , from Februs 34 I was at home when the phone rang. It was Paula. Paula: Will, Dear. Must this be your last interview? Me: For the moment, sadly it must. Paula: Februs and the readers are going to miss you. Me: Paula, not half as much as I’m going to miss it, them and you. Paula: Enough of this cloying sentimentality and on with the last. Me: That would be fine if I had one in mind. Paula: As it happens Will, I was talking to a friend who is very much into the scene and he was telling me about a lady he met when he was dining on his own for once at a French restaurant. And guess what? She was the manageress! He felt there was something about her and he was right. He went there a few more times and gradually brought the conversation round to all things spanking, as it were, and they became good friends. Anyway, she’s not very experienced yet, so he thought an interview with ...

Photo-story from Februs 1 Katrina could never resist a telephone: public kiosks, state-of-the-art domestics, cordless, mobiles… any sort of telephone cried out to her to be used. It was therefore inevitable that as she made her ineffectual flicks with her feather duster she would be overcome by the urge to call a friend or two. ‘Hi, Ginny? It’s me, Katrina. Listen this job is brilliant…’ She started in a rushed, hushed whisper, but soon relaxed and was giggling loudly as she told her friend about the cushy billet she had found. ‘Yeah, he’s some kind of ageing hippy artist who’s sort of gone respectable. Huge house: you ought to see my room. I’ve got the run of the place as long as I wear this twee little uniform and make a show of doing the odd spot of housework. It’s all for show, though, there’s a proper cleaning woman that comes in at the crack of dawn and does the real stuff. Anyway, the great man’s out this ...