The pleasures of blindfolds

When you consider most people’s fantasies, a common feature is the concept of either being sexually controlled by their lover or exercising such control themselves. In such situations the passive person gives into whatever is going to happen to them, the assumption being that they will be taken to some wonderful erotic place where they have never been before, possibly one they previously knew nothing about .

Being blindfolded puts one in that exact situation. Unable to see what is happening or is likely to happen, you have to trust and hope. And of course, in the darkness of the blindfold your imagination can run free, never quite sure who is there or which of your sensitive part are going to be pleasured or scourged next, and if the whole experience will end in pain or pleasure. And of course we are flooded , subliminally, with the fears and excitements of childhood games, tied helplessly to a tree and wondering just what humiliations are about to be visited on us.



To me the above images capture the mystery and promise that blindfolds offer.

But here are two and very different images making us consider the subject in a different way. In one the girl, compliant patient and sightless, waits on a bed, pretty in her short dress and looking like the bait for some predatory creature who will no doubt will take pleasurable advantage of her blind helplessness. As love, famously, is blind, let's hope that in her dark space where all she will able to do is feel what he will do to her she enjoys her fate.



The other is quite different, this time it is the man who is blind and he is about to discover, not a forfeit but a prize. Before he slips off the obliterating scarf his hands will discover what a delectable morsel of naked flesh is his reward for playing this game, ripe kissable flesh that will be a feast to the eyes when at last he is about to look.


Two people, very different in every way, yet linked by a temporary and artificial inability to see; the two different sides of the same pleasurable coin.

When you’ve finished reading this, close your eyes for several minutes and think of the possibilities.

Sex guilt and spanking in the nineteen fities

It’s been said that the romantic novel has had its day as romance needs obstacles to surmount before couples reach happy ever after. Barriers add an edge to their passion for each other, and that in these days of divorce on demand and where social and racial barriers have largely been removed, there is nothing to write about.


The same thought process could easily apply to sex. If it’s hard to come by or even forbidden, then its all the more desirable and exciting. This brings me round to the nineteen fifties, a time of stifling respectability when nice girls didn’t and young men had to try and keep themselves under control.

 

 

Sex outside marriage was considered to be a sin, and it was not unknown for girls who had strayed to be literally thrown out of their family home. For the poor frustrated young men of the time, not only were real live flesh and blood females off limits to their roving hands and simmering libidos, visual and other stimulus were not easy to get hold of. Yes, metropolitan sophisticates could take a trip to Soho to purchase dubious books and magazines,

 

 

but metropolitan sophisticates are a breed who generally find ways to feed their appetites, unlike say a boy working as a junior clerk in some dreary suburb. As for films and TV, simply forget any question of nudity or sex. Even if a couple had a passionate kiss on screen it was never staged within a bus journey of a bed as that could imply that when we turned our back for a second they were straight into the cunnilingus. 

And this is where spanking comes in. Ever keen to find some way to keep viewers stimulated without falling foul of the censors, what was wrong with film makers showing a girl being given a spot of long overdue discipline across the knee of a clean jawed right thinking man who was only doing it for her own good?

 

 

 

Girls really were spanked in those days, often with their skirts pulled up and nothing but the protection of their knickers, and if the household was strict, these were pulled down as well.

 

That being the case, just as these days its easy for film makers to find a flimsy excuse for a girl to take her top off on camera, there was always some way to fit a smacked bottom into the plot somewhere. 

It's important to get this in context. Skirts were long in those days and although underneath girls were sexualized by the hidden erotica of stockings and suspenders,

 

 

but decently brought up girls ensured they were strictly out of sight and stayed that way.

 

 

Bottoms and thighs were a no go areas to be fantasised about and neither seen nor touched. The most a boy could expect from his girlfriend on a Saturday night was a modest feel of a breast outside the blouse when kissing her goodnight.

 

OK there were exceptions, and some young men found girls who were prepared to go further but they were few and far between.

 

 

 

A lot of boys had never seen their girlfriend’s legs at all, but if circumstances lead to an authority figure giving her a spanking, the man in question got to see the lot, stockings, knickers and suspenders,

 

 

 and if he had taken it to the limit, her bare bottom as well.

 

Film makers understood this all too well and knew exactly how to stir up seething adolescent hormones, so when the hero said to a feisty female “I’ve a damned good mind to put you across my knee and spank you!” a lot more was being implied than simple punishment. Not only was he giving himself the moral right to restrain and have intimate physical contact with her, depending how far he took it he might even get an eyeful of her virgin vagina as well. (No, of course that never actually happened on screen, but the idea was enough on its own to put a tingle in the willy.)   

In the nineteen fifties, spanking was everywhere, in comics for both adults and adolescents, in TV and films; it featured in cartoons,

 

 

and even an advertisement for coffee suggested that wives who bought he wrong brand of coffee should be taken straight across the knee.

 

 

No wonder that the young men of the time had a Pavlovian reaction to just the thought of it. They were constantly on the look out for a quasi legitimate excuse to do to their girlfriend what dad did to their sister,  and the thought of wrestling a wriggling squealing girl across their knee and wondering how much of her they dare expose for punishment had them weeping in their pants.

 

 

Never mind the nineteen fifties being the golden age of spanking, I’ve little doubt it was the golden age of masturbation as  well. (Yeah! Yeah!  I know I’ve contradicted what I  said about the nineteen seventies,  but a girl is entitled to change her mind! This isn't Wikipedia.) 

I had a drink a good while back with an older man I know who has no idea about my blog or my erotic writing, and as subtly as I could I pumped him for information about domestic spanking in those days. He clearly wasn’t keen to talk about it but after a few glasses of wine, I carefully let slip that a boyfriend or two of mine had made up for what my parents hadn’t ever done to me and that frankly both they and I had rather enjoyed it. It was all he needed to hear and gradually he got round to admitting that he had suffered enormous guilt for most of his young life because he had a spanking fetish brought about by all the spanking stimulus from his young days. The problem was that because  spanking scenes and references were presented as a necessary part of the plot and not as an erotic turn on, he thought he was the only person in the world who was aroused by it. Over the years he had manufactured excuses to spank a number of girlfriends,

 

 

but always got away with it by disguising it as a joke, and it was only in later life when people became more open about the sexual tendencies and inclinations that he realised that he was far from alone. 

He doesn’t use the internet, but if he did and googled  “spanking” he would find that there are literally millions of entries which possibly means that when in those up-tight days he took the risk of putting a girl across his knee and spanking her he was part of an erotic vanguard.

I think out of kindness I will send him a copy of Educating Anna when it's re-published!

Sunny afternoons and innocence

In one of the chapters in Educating Anna,  Anna is driving to a meeting with an eccentric artist who owes her an erotic  painting for her house. She is driving an old open Rolls Royce and just for once sex is not on the agenda. She is wearing simple clothes, has on no make up, and her hair is in plaits making her look both young and innocent. With the sun on her face and the wind in her hair she feels clean and wholesome, but surprise, surprise, when she meets with the artist in question things  don’t go the way she expects and the two of them embark on a few weeks of sex and erotic game playing.

 

I am mentioning this because he weather the last few days has been simply wonderful and l have been able to enjoy some topless driving. No, I don’t  have a Rolls Royce but I do have an MG which is one of the loves of my life along  with my cats and my dog. And of course it doesn’t have my name on the number plate  but otherwise it is identical to this one, and when I drive it on a sunny afternoon, yes, like Anna  I also feel clean and wholesome.

 

So long as none of you let on, I can go on fooling the world for a little longer!

Post script to sex in the nineteen seventies and a tribute to Madeline Smith

My posting on the nineteen seventies did not claim to be complete and comprehensive and in the early hours of this morning my ever vibrant imagination reminded me of  yet another bit of cinema from that era designed to get the loins tingling.

For years The Hammer House of Horror  had been knocking out horror films, a good number of which featured sinister  vampires sinking their letcherous  teeth into the throats of pretty young  virgins in low cut dresses and flowing nightgowns.

A stalwart of these films was Ingrid Pitt with her bountiful breasts positively tipping out of the top of her low cut gowns, but giving us nothing more than that. Then one day the producers asked her how she would feel about appearing nude and apparently her reaction was  “I thought you’d never ask!”

As a result, Hammer’s next film was Vampire Lovers set in some sort of girls school in a large grand house, and yes Ms Pitt does show us her all,

but sorry Ingrid, I’m a afraid for me it was a a new young actress, Madeline Smith, who did for me in that film.

Madeline Smith  had huge doe like eyes that always looked far away and dreamy and they were matched by her breasts  that were  also large and dreamy. There is a lovely scene in the film where Ingrid Pitt comforts a nervous Madeline Smith in her virgin a bed and in the process peels away her nightgown and plants a kiss on one of these  lovely breasts,  and yes , I am jealous!

Madeline  Smith went on to do lots of other things, but notable for this post was her appearance in Up Pompei, an enjoyable romp with Frankie Howard aided and abetted by a lot of breasty slave girls. Again in this film the delicious Madeline gives us a few flashes of her lovely breasts which on its own makes the film worth watching. 

Going slightly off subject (the nineteen seventies -  keep up!) yes, I am happy to admit I am slightly in love with her, and I know why that is. It’s the  mixture of her virginal prettiness and  air of confused innocence combined with her delicious body. In a way she was the embodiment of the female cartoon strip character so popular at the time, the sexy little creature constantly finding that  yet again something has happened to divest her of her clothes.

To my knowledge she never appeared in a sex scene as such, nor was she ever spanked, which is such a shame. I can imagine those big eyes of hers opened in disbelief,  “But you wouldn’t   spank me.......!”

I think I’m going to have a little lie down!

The nineteen seventies , the golden age of wanking.

I wasn’t even born in the nineteen seventies, let alone the nineteen fifties, but have strong opinions about both periods which have recently been resurrected as a result of a remark by my correspondent James which set  my brain working in overdrive. So yes James, this entire post is down to you!

I’ve always seen the nineteen fifties as a time of contrast, a period of puritanism and repression which as a result, turned people’s libidos into a pressure cooker of arousal and steaming need. It was also the golden age of spanking,  

but if I go down either of those alleys I might well never return and  the nineteen seventies will not be reached so I will jump to that period now and do a separate posting on the nineteen fifties another time.

What set all this off was my post on the endless possibilities for a bit of discreet and not so discreet cock teasing the bicycle offered us girls and I posted this image:-

James, clearly a gentleman to the core but not one always given to political correctness, referred to  her as “the slut in the yellow sweater” (even though the image was in black and white) and after a little prodding from me he gave me the name of the film it came from, Malizia, which hit the screens in Italy in nineteen seventy three . I’ve yet to track it down, but found some stills including this one of a the young and very sexy girl in question wearing her yellow sweater,

and now actually on the bike, but still with her suspenders on blatant display and no doubt giving the lucky young boy the stiffy of a  lifetime and no doubt a fetish about bicycles for life.

Other images  from the film gave me a good idea of what it was probably about, girls up ladders so as to give the viewer some up skirt action,

girls spied on  when putting on their stockings,

  

and girls being found in their underwear and less on a regular  basis  by lecherous men and priapic schoolboys.

It didn’t take long to realised that this summed  up this whole nineteen seventies period. Censorship in all mediums was being eased and sex and nudity were on display as never before. Sex was now a spectator sport and it was the job of us females to prance  around on the screen in very little and often less than that  so that men could letch over us.

Just before the seventies actually  hit there was the now famous Belle du Jour featuring Catherine Deneuve being tied to trees and whipped before being tied to a post and having mud thrown at her. (Don’t try that on a first date!)

Soon after this, another Italian actress, Gloria Guida, was appearing in film after  film where she ensured that randy men got to look up her skirt or got to benefit from eyefuls of naked breast, 

(NB In the above  film there is a cute spanking scene but I’ve mislaid the link, and would be grateful to anybody who sends it to me.)

Much of this sexy cinema from Italy and France, but In the dark and dismal UK we were waking up, and the low rent series of Confessions films with Robin Asquith were hitting the screens. These films gave us bare boobs and sexual goings on but were  completely devoid of wit or  sensuality and I speak with some authority having not seen any of them.

World wide, the Emanuelle franchise raised the bar with films that were dreamy and borderline erotic,  but sex in the seventies was not confined to the cinema and print media was catching up. Playboy had been spreading boobalicios pin ups across its centrefolds for some time and corporate America had been able to enjoy shed loads of  tit and bum,

 but in the seventies Playboy abandoned the airbrush and started to give the world pubic hair as well. (Younger readers  might have to Google this. Pubic hair was something that pre-dated the bible and disappeared from civilisation around the time America invaded Iraq. )

And then to add to this cornucopia of wank material, an avalanche of comic strip females hit the newsstands. First and foremost was Maghala  (Italian  again, what would we do without them?) a feisty and overwhelmingly breasty young girl whose adventures  ensured that whatever skimpy garments she was wearing the beginning of the strip were ripped and shredded by at least half way through, and pretty well gone completely by the end.

 On a weekly basis Maghella  faced near death, rape, being tied up, whippings, and just about every other sort of sexual humiliation, but emerged ready to do it all again by the next week. She had rivals in the comic  book world, again mostly Italian, but here in the UK we did our bit and gave adolescent boys Carrie who appeared,  I think, in Mayfair magazine.

 Again, Carrie had to endure much involuntary undress along with the occasional spanking to ensure she knew her place.

As I say, with all this stimulus coming at us from all directions, the nineteen seventies  had to have been a golden age of wanking provided you were a male who enjoyed sneaky voyeurism and were turned on by chirpy girls being stripped, spanked, and occasionally tied up and having mud thrown at them, or of course a girl like me who also happens to quietly enjoy the sight of  chirpy girls being stripped, spanked, and occasionally tied up and having mud thrown at them.

If of course you were an exclusively  heterosexual  female longing to see a little girl on boy action, something like this,

or this,

you were doomed to disappointment. Maybe you might have been luckier in the nineteen fifties, but then again, maybe not. I’ll do a posting on that as soon as I have the time. 

THE CHARTER

           

         I’m sure his heart was beating faster than usual. I know mine was. I knew without doubt what he was going to say to me and I had been waiting for this moment for some time. I stood there with my eyes lowered, embarrassed and ashamed even before hearing what he had to say. 

         "The  thing is,” He said, “The thing is that this Academy is very old and the Charter under which it operates has never changed.” 

I was all too aware of that, having accepted when I joined that so long as I was here in this remote crumbling building, more like a monastery than a college, that I would be leaving the modern world behind me.

“I know, Sir.“ I said, afraid to meet his own dark lashed eyes that always seemed to glow like coals when they looked at me. Why did he have to be so young and handsome, his body lithe and his jaw chiselled by God to make us girls dream of him when we went down to sleep in our chaste bunks at night?

“We are primarily a music school, but any girl who joins is obliged to accept its code relating to obedience, modesty, chastity, attention to work, and all the other ways of the life we live here.” He paused to clear his throat, knowing that I knew what he was obliged to tell me and deeply embarrassed by it. “You have been an exemplary pupil in every way, and your music.......” He did not need to elaborate. When the two of us joined in duet, my violin counter pointing the soaring strings of his cello, the vaulted ceilings sang with the sound, the whole institute thrilling with it so they would often pause their own practices to come and listen. Playing music with him was like making love, our trembling strings in the sort of erotic harmony that our bodies were forbidden. “But not just your music,” he went on, “In every possible way you have been attentive and obedient, completely beyond all criticism.” And then it came the words he had been so long avoiding. “However our Charter, our ancient Charter that binds our every movement obliges me as your tutor........”


“It obliges you, Sir,” I cut in, trying to save him the agony of saying it. ”To spank me not less than five times each term.” And then I quoted straight from the Charter, as I knew so much of it by heart. “To ensure that with regular and thorough scourging the habits of obedience and goodness become integral with each girl’s flesh and soul.” Even as I said these words, forbidden images flashed through my head despite all my efforts to shut them out.

“My dear child......” He was clearly overcome with emotion. “Normally the girls here, well they so often misbehave they give us countless reasons for punishment and the five spankings are reached and exceeded without a problem. But in your case......”

“But in my case, I have not.” Now I did look up and meet his dark eyes. “So you are obliged to spank me not less than five times before the term is over which is in a week or so.”

Why did the blood rush to my face in shame, the implications of what had to happen flooding through me. My body would be in intimate contact with his, imprisoned over his knee with my panties lowered and my secret and most intimate places on full view to him as he chastised my flesh.

And as I visualised this in my mind, why was I hit with another rush of moisture, this time filling my lower body with a soft sweetness that made me want to squirm. Hidden by my skirt my tiny white panties were suddenly wet between my legs and for a moment it was as if my skirt had been raised and he could see exactly what was happening. 

“It is not my choice, child, but just as you are in thrall to the Charter, so am I, and I have to carry out my duty....” He picked up the document in question and cast his eyes over it although he probably knew every word and comma better than I did. “It seems I am obliged to vary each punishment so you fully appreciate the extent of my authority over you as your tutor.” He searched for the right thing to say. ”I have to be inventive in the ways I punish you, how you are positioned, the degree of exposure and undress......”

Now it was his turn to blush. Although not yet ordained I know that he is in training for Holy Orders, yet even in my young virgin state I know that every day he looks at me with hunger and longing. He is still a man with all that implies, a man who has suddenly found himself entitled to do almost anything he wishes with me, to bend me over benches or chairs, to take me across his knee, to lower or remove my knickers, and even strip me naked should he consider it appropriate. 

"Sir," I said, trembling internally but determined to be courageous. "This is not something either of us will find easy, so as we are alone now.... I mean, maybe the first spanking should be administered without delay, and after that each further occasion should be less of an ordeal." And even as I said it I know I wanted him to, suddenly I wanted to feel his punishing hand scourging my tender flesh. If we could not be joined in other ways, let the punishment be the silken rope that tied us together. 

"You mean here, now...?"

He was if anything more confused than I was, and I felt that I needed to take the lead. “I am no more used to this than you are, Sir.” I said.  “But I can only assume that if I were positioned like this...." And turning my back on him I bent forward with my young bottom upturned. I knew I would have to be exposed but I would have to leave that to him. “I will leave the rest to you, Sir." I said, and then I waited for whatever he chose to do. He took his time and I could hear his breath expelling from his nostrils like some aroused animal, but then I could feel him behind me and in a moment he had raised my skirt to my waist and then, and my heart was now in my throat and making it almost impossible for me to breathe, he was lowering my knickers till they fell round my ankles. I seemed to be standing in this demeaning and vulnerable position for an age, and the whole time I was aware that every dint and crevice of my most intimate self was before him, there to be looked at and examined like one of the framed pictures in the long gallery. 

All the while I waited I was braced for pain, for chastisement, but what I eventually felt was the touch of his hand, as soft as a moth’s wing touching me the inside of my thigh, then slowly  and agonisingly stroking its way up towards  the forbidden place between my legs as I froze in a mixture of horror and beautiful anticipation.  

"I cannot do this!” He suddenly called out as he jumped back from me. “You are so beautiful and  so innocent."

In a second I was covered again and he was pacing up and down in a state of agitation. “I am the wrong man for this and I could easily find myself corrupting you. I will have to arrange for one of the senior brethren  to administer your punishments. It is the only way."

"No!” I called out my voice betraying the panic I felt at his words. “It can only be you!” And I was kissing him, chastely and gently, but still on his beautiful mouth.

"There is danger in this child.” He said, and I loved him calling me that notwithstanding my having passed eighteen summers. "You know there is.”

"A danger I am prepared to live with." I said. "I will come to your room tonight at eight and the first punishment can be administered.” 

                                                   ****

He was calmer this time, prepared and ready for what had to be done and he wasted little time. “You know why you are here, to be spanked as decreed by the Charter, so let us not waste any time. Come here so I can put you across my knee." In a moment he had taken me by the wrist and I found myself pinned in place with his strong arm. Just being in this position was almost too much, the realisation that I was now wholly subject to his will, but I tried to stay calm as I waited for his next words. "For you to get the maximum benefit you really should be spanked on your bare flesh, but this first time at least I will not pull down your knickers as I suspect that you are not ready for such intimacy so soon. I will however raise your skirt as otherwise there would be far too much protection. You appreciate that don't you ?"  And I muttered some sort of agreement knowing that in a moment he would be staring at my white cotton knickers tightly stretched over my girl's bottom, and of course wondering what effect that might have on him after what had happened this afternoon. There was a pause before he spoke again, clearly choosing his next words with care. "Remember, we must neither of us use this as an opportunity to think lustful thoughts.” And then, letting out a strange sigh, he pulled up my skirt. Lustful thoughts or not, in a moment I felt his hand exploring the shape and feel of my bottom through the thin cotton of my panties, and I gave myself into the pleasure of it, imagining that he was doing it for reasons not connected with punishing me. But even more arousing than this, underneath me something live and stiff and feral was shifting and moving. Having me positioned across his knee like this had given him an erection and wicked girl that I am I found myself picturing his engorged member in my mind and wondering how it would feel in my hand and, even worse, deep inside me. 

  

“When we first spoke," He said, still investigating my soft globes with his hand and sending thrills to every corner of my body. “I said that I would have to spank you for no other reason than I am obliged to under The Charter. But now it is different. Intentionally or not, this afternoon you filled my mind with impure thoughts, and I am going to spank you for that as well. You understand, don't you?” 

"Oh yes, Sir!" I said, suddenly filled with a strange joy. “Oh yes! And that being the case, you must not spare me.”

My words were unnecessary. After the briefest pause he gave a token slap or two like a gourmet trying a new dish and wondering what it would taste like, caressed my bottom again, slapped me briefly once more then set in to spank me in earnest, his leather hand raining down on my virgin bottom as if to tell me that this time nothing would deter him from what he was obliged to do. Never once in my eighteen years had I ever been spanked so I had no way of knowing if the sudden fire in my bottom was what all errant girls had to accept as their due as their lovers or mentors spanked them into goodness and obedience, but I instantly appreciated why being spanked was such an effective punishment. Even with my panties protecting me a burning pain was already making itself known and he had barely started. Not to wriggle and thresh was beyond me, but not for a second did I try to escape. Being spanked by him was my fate, and as this punishment was intimately connected with my having aroused sexual thoughts in his mind I wanted to savour and experience every stinging slap.

 As I wriggled and scissored, little gasps and moans were escaping my lips but they were not all because of the searing pain. There was something else building up in my loins, a strange liquid joy as well, a weird pleasure in being punished across his knee like this, and as it melted into the fire of my punishment and became one, it was turning into a pleasure so fierce I could scarcely cope. My mind was in turmoil as I threshed and moaned under his attentions, and feeling the angry jerking of his hard rod beneath me was adding a further level of confusion. It was becoming all too much and then suddenly, something unbelievable started to happen, an imminent explosion I had no control over was about erupt in the tight wet embrace of my schoolgirl panties and I could do nothing to stop it. As for him, somehow I knew that this relentless spanking he was visiting on my upturned bottom was nothing more than his way of cauterising his recently discovered need for me, and that realisation was the final trigger. As my body jerked and spasmed I let loose such a howl it was like some midnight beast in torment. 

Did he know what had happened? I’m not sure, but he paused his punishment, paused and started to stroke and sooth my glowing bottom through the stretched white cotton of my panties. “My child!” He said, “ My child, maybe I was being too punitive, this being your first time......” And while I tried to regain some sort of composure he continued to caress me as the hot fire changed into the sweetest glow. 

          “I deserved it, Sir.” I finally managed to say, not wishing to be anywhere else but here bent across his muscular thighs while he stroked my bottom. “Maybe I am not such a good girl as you think I am and being punished is what I need.” 

He made no comment and we stayed like this for a while in a sort of companionable peace till I broke the silence again. ”So having been spanked by you for the first time, Sir, I will know what to expect the next time." 

”I wonder.” He said thoughtful pulling my dress back into position and restoring my modesty. “Do either of us really know?” 


                                              *****

I guessed that he would take my knickers down the next time he spanked me, and I was right. He had barely got me in position over his knee before he was pulling them down, slowly and lovingly lowering them to a point not an inch further than was necessary so my bare bottom was peeping up at him between their bunched up provocation and my upturned skirt. Knowing I was going to be spanked, this time instead of the regulation cotton knickers I was wearing something a little more grown up, skimpy and silky and offering him another excuse to chastise me thoroughly . What was happening to me? His original picture of me had been accurate; I was an obedient and modest girl, exemplary in every way, but now my head was full of strange erotic imaginings cantering on his punishing me and what effect it might be having on him. Was I, an inexperienced and until now pure virgin, guilty of corrupting a man who was going to take holy orders? If I was then no amount of punishment was enough. I should be spanked till my bottom caught fire. 

Having some idea of what to expect this time I was even more nervous than the first time, yet also filled with some strange throbbing excitement. This time my young flesh would be completely exposed and bared for his attentions, so would I be able to tolerate this new level of pain, and how would it be for him watching my naked bottom turn crimson under his punishing hand? 

“I take it,” He said, almost unconsciously exploring every inch of the naked flesh that was on view between my lowered panties and upturned dress. “That this will be the first time you have ever been spanked on your bare bottom?

“Of course, Sir, “ I said, my heart fluttering. “Remember, it is only my second spanking ever.”

“So yesterday......?” 

Yes, Sir. Yesterday was my first. You are the only man who has ever spanked me.”

“I see!” And there it was again, his thrusting member, engorged and alive beneath me, twitching in anticipation and hungry for a feast that was to be denied it. “Well, as this is the first time on your bare bottom, maybe I should not be too harsh.“ And he gave me a little slap, almost a caress, and then another and another, little stings waking up some sleeping need in my loins, each one tiny but sharp, carefully paced and considered while I mewed and gasped at this benign attention. It was beautiful, pain and pleasure perfectly blended in perfect harmony, a slow build to something that his time I knew was inevitable and had no intention of fighting.

And this time he knew for sure how it was arousing me, I could tell without any doubt. Consciously or unconsciously he was taking me somewhere my girl’s body had to go, and after a while it was as if he was going there with me and had forgotten everything except this strange communion between us. Spank followed spank in an unhurried succession, a steady rhythm of stimulation that was perfectly in tune with my needs. 

”I’ve started to realise that  underneath your quiet exterior , you are in fact quite  a bad girl.” He was growling at me as if he knew to the second the point I had reached. “So tell me exactly what sort of bad girl you are!” And I did so, suddenly loosing all restraint and confessing that I was full of lustful thoughts and that the whole of last night I had fantasised about my being across his knee with my knickers down while he spanked the wickedness out of me, and as I told him I realised that spurred on by my confession he was spanking me harder and harder and the smouldering fire between my legs was suddenly raging out of control. I was on the very edge of my crisis, but without warning everything had changed and we were attacking each other, tearing at each others clothes and in a moment we were both naked and his rod was in front of my face, hungry and feral and desperate for satisfaction. Suddenly my needs were different. He had brought me to this new and wonderful stage in my life and all I wanted was to show my thanks while experiencing something that I had scarcely allowed myself to even think as I tossed and turned in my midnight bed. Taking a moment to enjoy the sight of his luscious erection straining in front of my eyes I took it between my virgin lips and sucked it till the great gush of his satisfaction erupted into my mouth. 

                                                    *****

It was the next day and I was on his lap, bestriding him so I could meet his eye while he talked to me.

That was my excuse anyway, thin as it might be. As he looked at me his voice was stern and he was holding a hairbrush which I knew he was planning to use on me and I was both excited and afraid. This time I had no idea how things might develop. After what had happened yesterday he wanted me more than ever but he was still making some effort to fight it and to bring me back to the straight and narrow. Nevertheless, against my loins I could feel his hunger, and so long as that hunger burned for me I knew that whatever took place between us, the final result, however long it might take to reach, was inevitable.

“Now despite your recent wanton behaviour, you're still a virgin.” He said sternly. “Only just, but you’re still a virgin nevertheless. So long as you remain virgin you are allowed to stay in this institution, so despite anything you might do, I'm determined to see that you remain that way.” 

“Yes, Sir!” I said giggling, even though I knew that the mixture of frustrated anger and boiling lust would mean that his time my punishment would be severe.

“There are still three spankings due to you under The Charter and I'm going to give you the next one now and you’re really going to feel it. Now stand up and take your skirt off.”

I did so, seriously nervous of just how severe this next punishment would be, yet wanting it even more. Last night I had final given in to masturbating,

something I had fought against all my life, as I remembered the sight of his wonderful engorged cock and the feel of it in my mouth. Whatever he chose to do to me now would be worth it.

“And now take your knickers off, that's right. I want them off completely” I did as I was told, pulling them off over my ankles, then stood in front of him naked from my waist down while his eyes burned at the sight of me. 

“After your previous behaviour, He said extending an inquisitive hand. “I hope that this time the thought of being spanked it not making you excited.” And before I knew it his fingers were between my legs and investigating my lubricated pudenda, the tip of one finger even making a token entrance inside me. 

Instantly and without warning I climaxed right in front of him, the unexpected stimulation on my already overexcited body too much. He smiled grimly as he watched me judder and moan and I knew that I was right and that I really had corrupted him and that we were both now beyond all help.” What a bad girl you are” He said a smile of something that looked like cruelty lighting on his lips. “We will have to do something about that, won’t we!”

Dear God what had I unleashed? His need to punish me was now so deeply imbedded he could not help himself . At last I was being given the punishment I deserved and it was relentless. The vaulted ceiling roof rang with the sound of my bare flesh being mortified as he loosed all his lust and desire for me in an avalanche of pain. 

     Yes, I deserved it and, yes, I could not deny him what he had to do but I was still just a young girl, new to all this and it was beyond all bearing, but just when I reached a point where I could stand no more he stopped, breathing like a man who had just been thorough some ordeal.

“Are you going to be a good girl from now?” He asked, and having no choice I gasped my acquiescence. “Good!” He said, his voice grim with satisfaction, then tipping me off his lap got up and walked out of the room. 

                                             ***

Confused as to where things now stood between us I was a model pupil for the next few days. Quiet in my demeanour, attentive in lessons and producing notes from my violin I did not know were there. I said little to anyone and kept myself to myself, but when he and I were alone together the tension burned between us and the air crackled with an erotic charge. Under The Charter he was obliged to give me two more spankings and we both knew it and there were only a few days left before the end of this term.

During a one on one tutorial on tonal harmony I decided to take matters into my own hands. Our dress code is an approximation of a conventional school uniform, but considering the archaic restrains we are under in so many other ways we are given a wide leeway as to how we interpret that and I had taken full advantage. I had put on my shortest skirt and immediately I could see that he could not take his hungry eyes from my legs which I posed as provocatively as possible, crossing and re-crossing them to give him glimpses of my smooth young thighs above the tops of my sheer stockings. 

I knew had won already and that it was just a question of taking things to a point of no return. He was struggling to stay in control of the lesson and it was clear that already his head was teeming with lascivious thoughts. Taking the biggest risk of my life I leaned back in my chair luxuriously.

“Maybe, Sir,” I said, my voice full of simmering promise.”Maybe my music would have a freer quality to it if my bowing arm was free of any restrictions.” In a second I had taken off my blouse followed by my bra, dropping these garments carelessly on the floor behind me. “In fact, Sir,” I said, my hand behind my head to give him the best possible view of my firm young breasts. “Maybe if all my limbs were free.....” And moments later I was sitting there naked with my ankles tethered together by the stretched silk of my panties, a token shackle demonstrating that I was still the prisoner of his wishes. 

The silence between us was deafening and then he spoke, his voice strained and his eyes on fire. "I will need to check The Charter, but I have a feeling that being incorrectly dressed during lessons is something that calls for punishment.”

“I suspect it does, Sir.”

“And as for being completely naked.......”

“As naked as God made me, Sir, and as God meant me to be enjoyed.” 

“I will need to consider this further. Go and wait for me in my room.” 

                                               ****

Still naked I waited for him to come to me, kneeling on his bed and knowing that nothing would keep him away. 

What I did not know was how would he deal with me. Would he punish me, spank my naked helpless body across his knee and  mercilessly scourge this new wickedness from me till I finally capitulated and became the good and obedient girl I used to be? I knew the answer when he walked in, unambiguously ready to deal with the wanton temptress I seem to have turned into.  He was naked too, beautifully so with his wonderful member engorged and erect and ready to each me lessons even more basic than the ones I had been receiving across his knee. 

“Assume the position young lady.” He said, his eyes eating my young girl’s body and scarcely able to keep his voice under control. "You know which one I mean!”

We fucked and fucked, then fucked some more till finally we lay exhausted and happy in each others arms, our bodies soft with satisfaction but our minds busy with erotic possibility.


“You appreciate,” He said after a while, pausing to kiss one of my nipples and sending new shivers through my all too receptive body. “You appreciate that under The Charter I’m still obliged to give you two further spankings, and that's quite apart from any punishments you have earned with your wanton behaviour recently.”   I snuggled into him, glowing with the thought of being punished again, the very idea of it now a hair trigger to my libido. “And as I said before I spanked you the first time, we are encouraged to be inventive. So what do you think?” 

Even as he spoke his lovely ripe cock started to come alive again and I held it in my hand and felt its growing hardness as he whispered inflammatory words to me. 

“Maybe tied naked to the old oak tree in the quad, maybe bent over my cello, that would be appropriate, or what about.........”