Room 2D

From Roué 30 ‘But of course, my dear,’ the elderly gentleman said in answer to his daughter’s request that he look after Mandy, her sixteen-year-old daughter. He squeezed her hand and said in reassuring tones: ‘I’ll take good care of her — don’t you worry. ‘It’ll only be for a couple of days,’ the woman explained. ‘But with Leonard away on business… and now this conference up in Scotland… of course, I don’t  have  to go…’ ‘You go to your conference,’ the old boy interjected. ‘She’ll be alright with me.’ ‘Are you  sure  you don’t mind, pop?’ ‘ Mind?!  — perish the thought. How could I possibly  mind  looking after my own granddaughter? It’ll be a pleasure.’ The woman patted his hand ‘She’s not sugar and spice and all things nice, you know, pop.’ The man chortled. ‘What girl  is ? I recall having to tan  your  backside on more than one occasion.  You  were hardly a little angel, my dear.’ His daughter smiled, recall...

From Roué 28 It’s always the same when Uncle Oliver punishes me. Whatever I happen to be wearing I am made to go to my room and change into these silly clothes. He bought them a year or so ago. The knickers are the skimpiest pair he could get hold of and as you can see afford me very little in the way of protection when I have bent over. They cut right into my bum so that my poor sit-upon is almost completely bare. The vest has ridiculously large arm-holes, thanks to a nifty bit of alteration by Uncle. This, as you can see, was done so that when yours truly is in the correct position yours truly’s boobs hang out. He likes boobs does Uncle Oliver though he quite clearly prefers bottoms — mine especially. I have to stand there like that for simply ages while he sits and makes comments on my appearance. ‘You  are  growing into a big girl now, Tina,’ he’ll say or: ‘What a fine young bottom you have, Tina.’ I blush like crazy ...

A spot of poetry, from Roué 2, referenced by Uncle George in his comments on a Culver original . A summer school-day, and it’s quarter past four, Timid and pale, Rosie knocks on the door. A familiar voice summons, she enters the room, The sight of the cane sounds the loud knell of doom. The lecture is brief, all heard before, This isn’t the first time she’s been through that door. The stern old Headmaster, wielding his cane, Prevails upon pretty Miss Rosemary Payne To lift up her skirt and reach down to the floor, And to take down her navy blue knickers once more. ‘For the third time this month, mark you!’ says the Head, ‘And mark you I shall, as I’ve already said.’ ‘I gave you fair warning, only last week, And now I shall cane you for having the cheek To ignore impositions, judiciously set, It seems you must learn that you’re not teacher’s pet!’ Five hundred lines, which Alas! she’s forgotten, And now she must bend for lines caned on her bottom. She shuffles her feet, her plump buttoc...

From Roué 27 It’s a game we have all played at parties usually with the family! ‘And the consequence was…’ But for the dedicated chastiser ‘consequences’ are of vital importance, they are meant to be savoured at least as much as the actual chastisement. And so this month our artist has elected to portray in colour and in black and white four of the after-effects of exemplary punishment on a selection of young miscreants. We hope you find them to your taste. ----//---- He didn’t cane her that often, Mr Wilkins that is. And it was never a spanking… always the cane. As Deputy Head he was allowed to give her up to twelve strokes… a round dozen as he liked to remind her… a dozen round was his little joke… the roundness of her pretty bottom he jested. He’d never given her twelve strokes… not yet anyway… he put an upper limit of ten on a sixteen-year-old as long as she behaved herself. She’d tried to please him this afternoon after school holding tight to the edge of the desk with b...

A welcome return by Darcy She was sobbing uncontrollably by the time he finished. Admiring his handiwork he felt a twinge of… what was it exactly? Guilt? He had got rather carried away. He’d promised 24 strokes after a long hard spanking and he must have given her 50. Her little botty was such an irresistible target, and her wriggling and jiggling and crying and pleading had got him worked up to a state of considerable excitement. But of course it was the only way to get through to headstrong young girls like Donna. And now he gave a loving hug and listened while she blubbered out her apology. He pressed himself against her and gained some momentary relief as she pushed back against his unyielding erection. What a good girl. And then, just like that, the guilt was gone. ‘I’m not quite sure we are finished after all, Donna. I think I might take you to my quarters. I think a little more spanking is required, perhaps the belt. ...

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...

From Roué 26 Frightened, tearful soft thighs twitching, trembling hands between her knees, Pushing skirt folds even deeper, Pressing hard in case she pees. Julie’s waiting for a spanking, Sitting there outside his room, Poor scared Julie sitting, squirming, Waiting for the crack of doom. Through the closed door of his study, Come the gasps and sudden squeals, Crisp hard smacks on Susan’s botty, Making Susan kick her heels. Julie winces at the wailing, Softly wriggling chubby bum, Thinks of Susan, long legs flailing, Tight against Headmaster’s tum. Now there’s only Susan’s sobbing, Teacher’s hand has ceased to smack, Julie thinks of Sue’s sore bottom, And her nerve begins to crack. Fingers fumble at the door jamb, Key’s inserted, door lock clicks, Winsome teenaged pretty Julie, Eases crotch of tight brief knicks. Oak door opens, out comes Susan, Hot flushed cheeks all wet with tears, Rubbing smarting crimson buttocks, Adding fuel t...