Room 2D

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

An original story from Basil with a nice illustration. More absent-minded fun in an imagined sequel to After the Match ‘Nice try, Henry, but your girls are still a little below our standard, don’t you think?’ said St Saviour’s headmaster, Charles Greenwood, smugly. ‘Indeed’ said Henry Bellish, Head of St Joseph’s, rather resignedly. Results were not normally the main interest to Henry in attending girls’ inter-school sports, but this time there had been a bit more riding on the match. Henry was taken into the pavilion to partake in the after match refreshments. To Charles’ consternation there was not a soul around. He cleared his throat loudly. A door opened and a dark-haired girl appeared, a look of surprise, then apprehension appeared on her face at seeing the two headmasters. She turned round, disappearing for a few seconds before returning with a tray of pastries and almost ran to them to try and make up for the fact that she had not been waiting with them on offer as they

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

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.

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

From Fessée 4 Letter from Fessée 6 A burnt offering from Kevin W ‘Not having a first course Sarah?’ Sarah smiled. ‘Just Derriere Flamb é , and I’ve already had that.’ Michael did a quick, schoolboy translation. ‘Flaming… bottom?’ Sarah shuffled on her chair. ‘Precisely. I’ve er, got a new arrangement with my boss, at work. About mistakes.’ ‘What are you two whispering about? We haven’t ordered the wine yet…’ ‘This is more interesting than wine, George. Sarah here claims to have had her bottom smacked.’ George stared. The things women came out with when they’d had a few glasses of champagne… ‘Not smacked,’ Sarah corrected, ‘…caned.’ Both men put down their menus. Claire gave her sister a wry smile. The two men who’d asked the girls out to dinner would be sure to think this was a ‘wind up’. Claire knew otherwise. ‘Why don’t you show them, Sarah?’ ‘What here? Okay then; I could do with letting it cool off a bi