Spanking Quickies: Caned Bottoms

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She remembered how he had looked downcast by her uncharacteristic outburst, his cheeks blushing pink, and she had relented, trying to be more encouraging. Taking up her cane by the inside of its perfectly rounded crook handle, she stood, gently flexing it before running her fingers along its smooth length. Cool to her fingertips, it was carefully sanded at each joint and slightly rounded at the tip. However, the school also operated a ‘demerit’ system for minor acts of disobedience, such as running in the corridor, being late for class, talking during a lesson etc. You were allowed up to three demerits per term without punishment – after that, your bottom had an appointment with the headmaster.

But Katie wanted more. She didn’t ask for it, but I knew she wanted more in the same way that Elita had known that I wanted more in the session I described here. Well aware of the fact this off-the-record punishment had already pushed the boundaries of appropriateness to breaking point, she hesitated once again before making up her mind. "You're not done yet. Pants too! Put them over there with the rest of your clothes."My parents had warned me before my departure that the school used the cane, and the warning was accompanied by a severe admonishment to be a good boy. And actually I was – I was certainly no rebel, and fully expected to stay out of trouble. The next moment it was far from ‘very well’ with my bottom as the cane was brought down hard and decisively across both cheeks. It may as well have been a red hot poker. I began to cry immediately but managed to stay bent over. I felt Mr Dawson’s hand rub my bare bottom consolingly. “Good boy,” he said. “You must learn to take your punishment like a big boy. Two more to go.” I’d told Katie I was going to give her 18 strokes, but I let her choose the cane, giving her a measure of control over the severity of the caning. She dithered for a while, just as I would have done, then chose a serious implement, long and straight; exactly the type of cane Elita might beat me with. Observing her from afar, her beauty and understated power, the calm authority that Miss Sternwood exuded so effortlessly, had frequently given him butterflies in his tummy. But here and now, in such close proximity, the scent of her hair, a delicate hint of her perfume as she moved, and an inexplicable intimacy of seeing her casual handling of the terrible cane, suddenly provoked a discernable twitch below his waistline. He shifted awkwardly, self-consciously adjusting his blazer and opening his mouth to speak, but found himself at a loss for words. The cane, a single, inescapably dominant theme of this formal ensemble, lay relaxed but ready against her side, following the line of her thigh down towards the right toe of her patent leather kitten heels.

Without being aware that he was doing it, Thomas's face instinctively winced in expectation. Perversely he knew that he was simultaneously both longing for and dreading the terrible impact that could now only be a few seconds away. Sophie had not consciously planned to push his embarrassment any further than this. It had never been her prime objective for the lesson, but observing the shame and discomfort this was obviously causing for him, and still feeling irritated by his moment of defiance, however fleeting it might have been, she was determined to make things even more uncomfortable for him. However, I don’t want to end our journey into corporal punishment here. Our sessions are so hot, so intense, and the connection between us before, during and after the act itself is always so wonderful.

At thirty-five years of age she could still clearly remember the corridors of Saint Frances and the dark wood paneling outside the headmistress's study. It stretched from the dull parquet floor to around shoulder height, whereupon it gave way to insipid magnolia paint and windows that were set high in the walls, requiring the use of a hooked wooden pole to open and close their spring loaded catches. I’d realised that I was right at the edge of my abilities and to attempt to cane her harder would risk injury.

No, it was given on the seat of their underpants. I tried to make things quite a bit more formal and hopefully scary, especially as these were older children. With girls, it can be awkward to cane over a skirt, so I felt pants was the best and fairest option for both sexes. They allowed a bit of modesty for the older children without really offering much protection.I don't like being forced to repeat myself Attwood," she warned with an imperious stare. "Do as you are told." Are you decent?" she asked a couple of minutes later, already knowing from her reflected view that he was busy with his tie. She turned her chair as soon as he replied and watched until he had pulled on his blazer and straightened the collar. Yes Miss," he replied breathlessly, taking the same small footsteps and only moving his hands once he was up against the edge of the desk and beginning to bend forward. Despite facing away from her, he could feel her eyes appraising his young, naked body, and sensed the frisson of a forbidden, shameful thrill, blending inextricably with what was rapidly becoming a very real anxiety. Of course," she had continued contemplatively, "I won't deny it's rare that a boy in his final year would find himself subject to the threat of corporal punishment, but I assure you there's nothing in the rulebook that says I cannot discipline a member of my tutor group in whatever manner I deem to be the most appropriate."