Room 2D

Second part of a three-parter from Whispers 4 ‘Not good. Susan. Not very good at all.’ Mr Wilmot, standing behind Susan, was shaking his head sadly. He had his two hands on her shoulders, squeezing gently as she sat at the piano. She was making mistakes, she knew she was, more than usual but she couldn’t help it. She was very nervous, scared even you could say. Those hands on her shoulders had viciously spanked her bare bottom and Susan knew he was quite capable of doing it again. Or even… the  cane . On top of all that, or rather underneath it you could say, was that dreadful cellar. Underneath her at this very moment. Extensive, Mr Wilmot had said. Stretching for miles probably. Black tunnels and rooms full of rats and other nameless things. She shouldn’t think about the cellar, she knew, but Susan couldn’t  help  it and that was probably why she was hitting all the wrong notes. It was late afternoon of Susan’s firs

First part of a three-parter from Whispers 4 ‘Shall we have a look at the cellars?’ he said. ‘I always think cellars and basements are quite fascinating, don’t you, Susan?’ Susan didn’t particularly but decided not to say so. If she was going to have to stay with Mr Wilmot for two weeks, and she  was , there was no point in getting on the wrong side of him on her very first day. And she had heard what her mother had said to him. ‘Feel free to discipline her, Mr Wilmot; in fact I hope you will. Susan has been getting just a little impossible in some ways lately.’ That was pretty awful of her mother especially when Susan had a good idea she simply wanted to get shot of her daughter for a couple of weeks. Sent away with Mr Wilmot for him to do what he would with her. Actually he was to tutor Susan on the piano. But anyway it certainly wasn’t smart to get on the wrong side of Mr Wilmot. So she followed him down some dank and slipp

A photo-story from Blushes 3 featuring Tracy Wilkes The quiet  swhitt!  of a cane in a curtained front room as evening draws on, the self-conscious attempts of a girl to keep the involuntary twitches and tweaks of her unfortunate bottom as much in control as she can, knowing that that is what is expected of her, acutely conscious that the little thrusts and jerks of her hips as the cane stings her again and again around those really tender parts of her cheeks are probably exciting  him  just as much as they are humiliating her! Kneeling up — gingerly — and doesn’t that little bum push itself out nicely! One can imagine the girl’s embarrassment; half naked for a caning at her age! And how old is she? Seventeen, perhaps? Younger? Can’t you just feel the bounce of that cane patting against those firm young bottom-cheeks until she’s got her bum into just the right position. Just the right height, and the perfect position to get the ca

From Blushes Supplement 14, a sequel to Seventeen & a bit . Charlene was sweating. That was not surprising, any girl would be sweating in Charlene’s position. Up on Mr Cranbrook’s polished little table, probably an expensive antique or something, and on her back. With her legs held up in the air, her hands clasping behind her knees. Like this so that Mr Cranbrook could get at Charlene’s bum. Her full. soft and tender and very bare bum. Because up on the table on her back Charlene was only scantily clothed. Her pink short-sleeved top but not much else, not much that counted at least. A white suspender belt and white lacy nylons and her black high-heeled courts. But that was it, nothing at all covering her bottom. Or for that matter covering her pussy which in this position, upside down and legs in the air and apart, was inevitably in full view . Was it any wonder that Charlene was sweating? If all this wasn’t enough to make