Room 2D

From Roué 29 As godfather to young Caroline, Gerald Lawson had been called upon to perform many duties in the seventeen years since she came into the world. One duty, though, that he could have had no idea of being called upon to perform when Caroline’s parents first asked him to be the child’s godfather was that of chastising the girl. Caroline’s father’s job took him abroad for roughly a quarter of the year and, six months ago, when he flew off to West Germany for a conference, Gerald received a telephone call from a rather distraught friend. It was Mary, Caroline’s mother. Apparently the girl had been playing up a lot at home and Mary simply couldn’t cope. ‘Of course,’ explained the woman, ‘if her father were here she’d get a damn good hiding. You wouldn’t consider standing in for Jack, would you, Gerald?’ Within ten minutes Gerald’s car was parked outside Mary’s house and the girl was across the man’s knee, getting the seat of her knickers warmed. Many such incidents had si...

From Roué 38 ‘In the living-room with you at once, young lady,’ Jenny’s father had told her upon his return home. ‘And make sure that you’re ready. I’ll be with you presently. Now, be off with you, girl.’ Jenny had pleaded with her mother not to tell her dad of her truancy. Her words had fallen on deaf ears. ‘This isn’t going to be a simple spanking, my girl,’ she’d said, ‘you’ve had enough warnings. No, it’s high time your father dealt with you.’ And so Jenny had spent two practically unbearable hours in her bedroom awaiting the arrival of her father. He’d called her down on hearing of her latest misconduct, given her a brief lecture, and despatched her to the living-room. Once in the room, Jenny quickly set about complying with her dad’s order to be ‘ready’. She thrust her hands up underneath her navy-blue gymslip, hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her tan-coloured tights, dragged them down, stepped out of them, and put them over the back of an armchair. Then, after a mom...

From Roué 38 Distraught she looks, and distraught she is entitled to look; for Sonia has just spent a rather distressing ten minutes over her Uncle Jack’s knee. Such events are fairly common on her much-hated weekly visits to her father’s widowed brother. Things as seemingly trivial as taking an opposing stance in a conversation is likely to be enough to prompt the man into action. Of course, a spanking for something as petty as that would result in the girl getting no more than half-a-dozen or so smart slaps to the backs of her legs. More serious faults — such as swearing or any sort of impoliteness — would mean a dozen or more crisp smacks to the seat of her knickers. Anything more grave than that — such as today’s little transgression (having a nip of the man’s gin when she thought he wasn’t looking) — called for far sterner measures. Sonia knew that these ‘sterner measures’ would be resorted to the very moment she’d been cau...

Culver’s second variation on the theme of Spankers Gallery - The Artist takes inspiration from the old comics Dandy, Beano, etc. It was Art time in the Girls’ Upper Sixth, and Millie the Minx, 18, was busy drawing a picture at her desk. There was no uniform requirement at Whack Street Comprehensive, so Millie was wearing her red-and-black stripy top, black skirt and boots. Her fulsome tits strained tight against her top, and her peachy bum filled out her skirt a treat. Millie scribbled away furiously, licking her lips. Her best chums sat around her and giggled: Penny the Peril, Tess the Terrible, ‘Corky’ Cass and ‘Keyhole’ Kath. They were also all 18, wildly pretty and precocious: a muddle of wacky hairstyles, lithe bodies, tight crop tops, micro skirts and denim cut-off shorts. ‘MINX! FRONT! NOW!’ bellowed Mr Snodgrass from the front of the room. The old master, in his tweed jacket and crooked mortarboard, looked very fierce. Millie only smirked. ‘Righto, sir!’ she said...

From Roué 38 It was  that  day again. The Day of the Hunt. Every other Sunday the more well-to-do inhabitants of Little Chitterworth met for a stirrup cup prior to riding off in hot pursuit of the cunning and elusive fox. It was a day much hated by two particular young ladies of the charming little village — Kathleen and Bernadette Flynn, the maidservants of Master of the Hounds, Sir Rodney D’Arcy. The Flynn sisters had been in Sir Rodney’s employ since their mid-teens when he had lived in their native Ireland. When he announced that he was retiring and returning to his roots in the Shropshire countryside, the girls accepted his invitation to join him. The girls’ mother, Sir Rodney’s cook on the other side of the water, had been handsomely pensioned-off, and saw her daughters’ opportunity as something they would be foolish to pass up. That was all some years back — Kathleen now being 25, and Bernadette 21. Working for the old boy was, for the most part, a doddle; their c...

From Roué 37 Miss Glover had her own special brand of punishing inattentive pupils. Unlike the vast majority of her fellow members of staff she, more often than not, wouldn’t resort to chastising talkative and giggling girls. Instead, she would order the miscreant to stand in the corner. Although this never failed to set off a bout of sniggering from the girl’s classmates (possibly the reason for the punishment in the first place), the woman revelled in the humiliation suffered by the girl in question. Standing there at the front of the class and facing the wall was indeed a most embarrassing thing for a girl of sixteen to have to do. It was the sort of punishment a junior or infant pupil would be more likely to be made to undergo. And it was because of this very fact that Miss Glover chose this particular method of disciplining her charges. It had been during a discussion on the greats of Russian literature that such a course of action was called for. Deeming the relative merits o...

Culver felt the text of Spankers Gallery - The Artist could have been more salacious and has developed a couple of variations on the theme. This first one is from the annals of Malory Towers… ‘Pamela!’ boomed Mr Greyburn, the Girls’ Art master, his deep voice loud above the chatter of the Upper Sixth classroom. ‘Come here at once, and bring your drawing with you!’ Immediately there was a flutter of excitement around the room. Everyone knew that Pamela was up to her tricks again. Fair-haired and pretty, with a mischievous glint in her blue eyes, Pamela had a way of behaving as though the classroom were her private stage. Though she had reached her eighteenth birthday, she had never outgrown her fondness for childish pranks, and she adored nothing better than being the centre of attention. Pamela rose to her feet with a triumphant grin and paraded down the aisle as though she owned the room. Several of the girls nudged one another, stifling their giggles. ‘Oh, Pamela is such a...