Room 2D

From Februs 16, the first episode of a serial by Anthony Vallance beautifully illustrated by Paula Meadows Cherri sat on the edge of her chair as her new employer, Mr Victor J. Smedley, pored over her references and papers. His gruff, self-made features showed no signs of being impressed, the stony expression on his face was pure Yorkshire granite. Finally he looked up, thick grey eyebrows gathered up on his furrowed brow. ‘Book learning,’ he stated, his voice nothing but contempt. ‘But I graduated first on my course,’ Cherri started to explain, suddenly hurt that her achievements were being dismissed so lightly. ‘Aye, that’s right, you came top in your class, so you’re good at book learning,’ he conceded, ‘but it’s books all the same.’ ‘Yes, Mr Smedley,’ she agreed, sighing resignedly. ‘When I were a lad,’ Mr Smedley told her, standing up and walking over to the window, ‘things were different.’ ‘Yes, Mr Smedley,’ Cherri murmured softly. ‘There were no book learning for us

From Fessée 11 From the last edition of Fessée, so again no suggestions for the backstory were ever published. Can anyone furnish one via the Comments section?

From Fessée 10 Another one with no suggestions at the time. Can anyone tell the story behind this one via the Comments section?

From Fessée 9 Letters from Fessée 10 This picture could easily be misinterpreted, the nude young woman gives the best clue, the naughty, aristocratic look on her face, can she really be the maid? No she certainly is not, she is Lady Annabel Fanshawe the daughter of the house who is having daily lesbian sex sessions with the more than willing kitchen-maid Elsie who is standing in the doorway, wide-eyed, half in horror and half enjoying her lesbian lover’s painful plight. His Lordship and Her Ladyship, who were away for a month’s grouse shooting, would have been horrified if they’d known of their daughter’s daily lesbian ‘nooky’ sessions with — of all people — the kitchen-maid, but of course the servants all knew about it and blackmailed Lady Annabel into the ultimate humiliation of being a helpless plaything in the hands of, what she considered, those unspeakable, low, beastly, social inferiors. Nude, wearing only Elsie’s kitch

From Fessée 8 Sadly no suggestions came in for this one. Perhaps someone might venture an explanation via the Comments section…

From Fessée 7 Letter from Fessée 9 The Unjust Steward Here is my solution to Paula’s puzzle picture The Unjust Steward . The unemployed labourer is in arrears with the rent for his cottage. His landlord, the squire of the village, sends his steward to collect the money owing. When the tenant is unable to produce it the steward threatens him with eviction. The desperate man pleads for mercy and the steward then proposes a deal: instead of money he will take payment ‘in kind’. If the tenant’s wife and daughter, whom he holds equally responsible for the debt, will submit to corporal punishment at his hands, he will persuade the squire to forego that week’s rent, and on the same condition that of each week in future. After protesting in vain the tenant sends for the two females and informs them of what he has agreed to. They are naturally aghast, but he tells them that it is the only alternative to eviction and after some argume

From Fessée 5 Letter from Fessée 7 City Lights It’s 1995. Women’s lib is now well defunct, and our little darlings know well that their pampered rears have to pay dearly for anything which they do to offend their husbands or boyfriends! One can, of course, easily deal with minor matters oneself — over the knee or whathaveyou, skirt up, panties to stocking tops (tights departed with Lib) and a sound spanking, does the trick. But for more serious offences, a visit to one of the spanking parlours, which are now widespread, is called for. Here couples mingle in the waiting room and individuals are called, the men for the pleasure of punishing some unknown female bottom, the ladies to expiate their sins, bending before some strange male, who will pay little heed to their pleas for mercy. It was towards the house on the corner of Parner Street and the High Road that Susan and I directed our steps on a blustery autumn evening. It w