Room 2D

A nice story from Roué 2. Sadly no pictures. The little upstairs room is bathed in the light of the afternoon sun, shining on the yellow patterned wallpaper and glinting on a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles behind which two bright and eager eyes stare unblinkingly. A bird twitters outside, and the sound of the steady flow of traffic floats in through the half-open window. Quietly, the softest and most poignant of sounds, a half-stifled catching of the breath whispers from between two petulant lips. Two eyes, red-rimmed yet alarmingly pretty, wander from the close-up texture of the sunlit wallpaper to the shiny leather strap which pat-pat-pats against the coverlet of the bed, and then to the ticking bedside clock, and finally to the eyes which still glitter menacingly behind the spectacles. ‘P-please —?’ The eyes flicker to her face. ‘What is it?’ ‘Can I p-pull my knickers up now please?’ ‘Have you learnt your lesson then?’

From Blushes 37, a sequel to Introductions Over . Daniel Ward’s training system for young female executives now has another recruit. Sally felt the cold dry hand against her bared bottom-cheek. She stared blankly at the rich patterned curtain just inches away from her face. ‘Oh God. This is awful. Just awful.’ Knowing she was bare and exposed. Knowing that the woman was staring at her, considering all those intimate secrets of a big girl’s anatomy, all now so blatantly exposed. ‘Right down. Get right down. Rest yourself on the dressing table.’ She heard the woman’s carefully-measured tones. ‘And keep your bottom still.’ Sally Blackwell was a career girl. Just three months ago she had joined the dynamic young workforce of Danward Services Limited, one of the new and exciting young businesses so beloved and encouraged by the present Government. And in those three short months, her personality and drive had taken her straight into

From Blushes Supplement 24 Jenny stumbled out of bed and blinked the sleep from her eyes. Her bottom still felt sore from the spanking of the previous evening. She stood up, turned and glanced over her shoulder, hoisting her nightie up to survey the damage, in her bedroom mirror. Still very pink, and a few tinges of purple. Mrs Mason’s handprints. She dressed, brushed her hair and walked quietly down the stairs for breakfast. The woman was already sitting at the dining table. ‘How are you this morning?’ Mrs Mason always asked. Jenny smiled back. ‘Alright, thank you.’ Despite the awful smacking late the previous evening. Still only a few hours ago although the hours of sleep had distanced it further in her memory. Mrs Mason watched as Jenny sat down, and noticed the very slight intake of breath as her bottom touched the dining room chair. They ate breakfast in silence, Jenny wriggling occasionally to relieve a dull ache in her bottom