Room 2D

From Whispers 3 Dear Editor, This is a letter from W. Germany. My English is not that good but I hope that you get everything out of the context. At first, my congratulations to your splendid magazine. The very best you ever did I think was,  Join the Dots  in  Supplement 6 . Give us more of that. Give us pictures of models we can add the bondage. Pictures on which the girls are being punished. Show us the punisher at her side swishing down the cane, riding crop, hazel switch or willow switch on the girl’s bare bottom. The bottom must show real vivid tramline weals. Show the girl’s face more often. A painful and tear-stained face. Let the models do some physical exercise and make them cut onions and then when their faces are nicely red-flushed and have enough tears flowing down, immediately start your photo session. Some suggestions I would like to see the young victims pretending to...

Story from Whispers 7 The bathroom was cold. The water in the big white bath looked even colder. Jennie shivered. And it wasn’t only the cold which made her shiver, with goose-pimples all over her bare flesh. Because she was fully aware that Mr Parsons had something exceedingly unpleasant in mind. He was the Junior Maths Master at Daneshill but also doubled as Games Master. Games included swimming, which Jennie loathed. She didn’t simply dislike water, it frightened her. How long would it be before he returned? She shivered again. Before he’d left her alone in the bathroom, he’d told her to strip. Then he’d relented. ‘You can keep your knickers on,’ he said with a half-grin. They were her dark blue school knickers. Well, it had been a concession but it didn’t do much to keep Jennie warm. What did he actually intend to do? Jennie looked at the cold water fearfully again. What he had said was that he intended to cure her once an...

From Whispers 5. Not credited, but this is very similar to other R.T. Mason stories. Edward had told her before to be more careful about her parking because she had had a couple of near misses. But as usual there were several things in her mind at once and her proximity to the next car was perhaps not paramount. As she backed there was a jolting crunch. Swallowing, she went forward again and then back at a snail’s pace this time. And then feeling sick got out to look at the damage. It was only then that she realised it was the Head’s car. Sarah’s stomach turned over as she took in the state of the wing, the headlamp. They had only been there a week. St Luke’s School, a minor boys’ public school, where Sarah’s husband Edward had been appointed Housemaster and history teacher. It was a very good appointment, after one year in the hell of a state comprehensive, and naturally he was very anxious to do well — as of course was Sarah. And now she had wrecked the Headmaster’s car! She st...