Do you believe in Ghosts?

Building was huge and occupied a large plot of land and car park, standing alone on a main dual carriageway which bypassed a small village. Part of the building dated back to C18 when highwaymen were not uncommon on the road and the inn (as was then) was used by travellers from London to the north and vice versa, it was also a meeting point for some local folklore traditions dating two hundred years earlier. Quite a history and a fair amount of it is traceable.

Earliest experience we had with 'things' was when we employed a Scottish chef who took a room in the staff quarters, at that time he was the only occupant in that part of the building (there were 6 staff bedrooms and a common lounge) and within days he asked us if there were any old members of staff who still had keys to access the premises. We told him not as far as we knew and asked him why he wanted to know. He said he heard people moving about some nights. P visited that part of the property a few times at night after that but never heard anything, we had the external access door lock changed just in case. The chef continued to report noises from time to time, he was with us for 3 years, other members of staff took up residence too and some said they felt uneasy when on their own. One evening the chef came bounding down the stairs into the pub lounge after closing time where we were having a drink with friends and P's brother, he made a lot of noise and was ashen when he flew into the lounge (I better not say he looked as though he'd seen a ghost:)). He said he'd encountered somebody when he went to use the loo, he physically touched them, he didn't have the landing light on just the glow from the car park lights, he panicked and said sorry but got no answer and it was just wrong and down he came. P went upstairs with his brother and another guy, they didn't find anyone and all doors and windows were locked, there were no other staff in that evening. Anyway Tom (the chef) wouldn't go back to his room until P's brother said he'd sleep up there in one of the spare rooms and I went and made a bed for him.

After that there were quite a few incidents of things happening inexplicably and a few 'sightings', two of which I can attest to personally and one of which P actually admitted to seeing a dark shadow pass along the corridor leading to our main entrance doors at the front of the building. I'd seen the same thing but to me it was a tall figure, P didn't want to acknowledge more than a dark shadow.

The thing that triggered us to get some outside help/opinion was a series of incidents involving our cleaning staff, three ladies who came from the village, they were good workers, they let themselves in early in the mornings often before we were around because we had a disco side to the business and often worked into the early hours. They started reporting weird things, cleaning materials getting moved around, doors opening and closing when no no-one was there, we laughed it all off but then a couple of times a cleaner got trapped in one of the toilets and couldn't get out until one of the others heard her shouting and went to see what was wrong, She opened the door easily and let her frightened colleague out. The same thing happened a few weeks later but this time the door opened itself when a colleague went to the rescue but before she actually got to the door. To cut it short, the cleaners asked to see P later that day, he sat down with them and said he couldn't explain things and he was always last to bed at night and never had anything strange happen when he was doing his rounds locking up but the girls weren't satisfied. One of them said she was going to look for another job, P thought we might lose them all and it was really hard to get good staff out there. So he promised he would get experts in to examine the premises and that placated them.

He kept his word and got in touch with Paranormal Research something-or-other, they spoke over the phone for ages. They didn't charge fees but preferred a 'contribution' to their costs. P had to get in touch with the company we worked for to check if was OK to book paranormal expenses against his weekly takings. The company thought he was joking at first then told him he couldn't, then called him back later and told him he could, after P had had a quiet word with an area manager and told him he seriously thought we could lose our entire cleaning team and temps would cost a fortune. So 'Ghostbusters' as I call them, travelled up from London, set up a load of equipment and one of them remained on the premises overnight, the other two put up at a local hotel. They spent a couple of days with us, interviewed the cleaners, some long standing customers, had already done some historical research and they had their readings which P was dubious about. Anyway they sat down with us before returning to London and sketched out what they thought and what they had deduced. They told us some things which they could not possibly have known. One of them was a clairvoyant apparently. They also, out of interest, said that P had the ability to see things if he allowed himself to, he didn't like that.

Our cleaners were relieved by what was said and as importantly that P was taking them seriously. Apparently the experiences they'd had had been playful not malicious and they had nothing to worry about but they did reschedule their duties so that no-one was ever isolated and always within easy calling distance. Incidents still occurred but less frequently or at least were reported less so maybe their confidence had just grown and they'd learned to accept them.

I did the cleaning jobs myself occasionally to cover for illness and holidays and I never had anything weird happen although I did in other areas.

Now some of the things Ghostbusters told us which we had not told them and they could not have learned from staff :-

At Christmas time we decorated the lounge with fairy lights. Every year without fail one precise area of the lights would fail. Replace the lamp it would light but then fail again. Replacing the wiring, the same thing happened. No matter what we did, it always happened. One of our door staff was an engineer, he couldn't find a reason. They told us no scientific reason would be found because it was a little girl who'd died on the premises generations ago fascinated by the lights and playing with them, always in the same place.

They asked us about our own accommodation and the corner of the building, had we ever noticed anything strange. We had not, except for the fact that our dog, a highly intelligent German Shepherd, used to sit looking into the corner of our lounge sometimes and cry/whine for no known reason and no instruction would stop her until she was ready to stop. They told us an unfortunate deed had been committed some time in the past when the entrance had been near there and it had not been settled. WTF are you supposed to make of that, they wouldn't go into it but said we had nothing to worry about and animals were very sensitive and our dog was clearly not stressed and we didn't need to be either.

They told us they had detected various presences in the staff quarters, nothing specific and nothing anyone should be worried about. P said we wouldn't be passing that on.

There were a couple of specific events, way after Ghostbusters had left us, which are worth a mention:-

One, which took place when we were with our assistant management couple on a Sunday afternoon in the restaurant. The place was closed, we didn't open all day way back then. We were chatting, her dad was quite ill in hospital and we'd told her to take the whole next week off if it helped. She thanked us and said she'd do that, they were just getting ready to go when we heard the back door into the kitchen open, then footsteps quite clackety on the industrial flooring then nothing. We all looked across expecting a chef to appear but no one did. P and his assistant went across immediately, the kitchen adjoined the restaurant so there was nowhere anyone could go. But there was no-one in the kitchen and the back door, which was only used by staff, was closed and bolted from the inside. Julie's dad died that evening.

Then another, a few months before we left the company and set up our own business, was the day of the Wroth Silver ceremony, an ancient tradition I mentioned earlier, when we'd been working more or less through the night because we'd had a disco the previous evening with a late finish but had to prepare full English breakfasts for 160 people for 6 am the following morning, (Toasts are drunk in rum and hot milk, and Churchwarden pipes given to everyone who attended) was always a crazy time. Anyway we did it as we always did, all went well and we got rid of all the dignitaries and company people by late morning and closed up which we always did on that day, not to open again until 6pm. P, myself and our head doorman were sipping coffee in the lounge bar chewing things over, how this or that could have been better etc when a figure went by the double doors which led out to the entrance. The doors had leaded coloured glass panels so we could see shapes through them but wouldn't be able to recognise a face. We looked at each other, we'd all seen it. There was no noise but then again it was carpeted, we expected to hear the entrance doors open, maybe it was a guest who'd fallen asleep letting himself out. There was no sound and after a minute, the doorman, got up and went across and opened the doors. He called out, no answer, then he checked in the toilets both men's and women's just in case, there was no one there. And the front entrance doors remained bolted.

Well that buggers me, boss, he said when he came back and sat down. I said are you sure, and went to get up but he stopped me and said trust him he knew what he was doing and there was nobody there. P said he thought we were all a bit over tired. It had been a long twenty-four hours but I looked over at our doorman and he didn't look tired and to be honest nor did P. I said it looked like someone wearing a top hat, P said he couldn't be sure. It was never explained.

Then a few weeks after that, we were making plans for our leaving and paying less attention to the pub, P was staying away some nights to supervise work on another property. Julie, the girl whose dad died, suggested holding a seance before we left to see if we could find out any more about some of the happenings we'd witnessed over several years. I kind of said OK but only when P was here, not if I had to stay over by myself even though we had the dog which was very protective. When P got back we asked him about doing one and he said flatly no and he forbade me to take part in one too. He said he was too busy for that sort of nonsense but that wasn't the truth and I found out much later that he'd taken part in one when he was a teenager, with actual results, which had frightened him at the time and he'd vowed never to take part in another although he said he would have been prepared to witness one but not be a participant.

Yes I do believe in ghosts.

What about, do you believe in ghosts?

Have a good week.

Ronnie
xx

Christmas Tart Cards

I'm doing some voluntary work for the week and wont have a lot of time to write, so hope you don't mind if I do some re-posts.

Some of you may remember me posting about Tart cards  in London telephone boxes by the working girls advertising their different type of services during the 1980's when a loophole in the law meant they were not, strictly speaking, illegal.

As Christmas was a busy one for the girls they tried to bring as much humour and wit to their Christmas working cards with distinctive illustrations and text in order to entice their clients. They have to be inventive and persuasive with their vocabulary in order to sell their wares. Such as 'Treat yourself to some Kinky Kristmas Kapers' or visit a 'Stunning Christmas cracker waiting to be pulled'

Here are some of the Christmas theme cards, a bit tenuous with some of them

"The images that accompany the slogans and the many hand drawn cards with holly, ivy or a cracker adds to the allure and charm of these particular Christmas working cards". Equally festive words play a part.

as this parody nursery rhyme shows - Sing-a-song-of-sixpence:

Sing a song of Christmas.

a grotto full of toys,

Lots of canes, whips and chains,

for all you naughty boys.

Or

this playful rhyme :-

Christmas cracker needs some fun!Come along and spank her bum

Some preferred word-play and one liners - 'Good Queen Wence-lust, with the 42" bust'.

'Red hot Xmas cracker' Let me play with your Jingle bells'

Hope you enjoyed them.

Stay safe.

Ronnie

xx

Tart Cards

While I was sorting some book out ready to take the the local charity shop, I found an old book I bought (I think I found it in a charity shop)

Tart cards

For any new readers (or my loyal readers who may not remember) - Tart cards were often printed cards (though some of the early ones were handwritten/drawn) and placed in London telephone boxes by the working girls advertising their different type of services during the 1980's when a loophole in the law meant they were not, strictly speaking, illegal.The practice of placing cards was known as carding. It is a particularly English phenomenon specific to London and seaside resort around Brighton and Hove (though they did appear in other towns) For the printers who were prepared to take the risk they represented a very regular and lucrative business.

Sex sells but ironically sex was the one word that was not used on the cards. Hand written, euphemism, double entendres, catch phrases, plain text, rhymes and a specialised vocabulary.

Here's a few you may not have seen.

Of course not everyone appreciated these cards, some found them intimidating and offensive, others amusing but for the girls and their customers they were a commercial necessity and in 2001 it became a criminal office to put these type of tart cards in telephone boxes and if caught could have faced a six-month jail sentence or a £5,000 fine.

Stay safe.

Have a fun weekend.

Ronnie

xx

The Secretary

Here's a story I liked which I posted a while back. Enjoy the read/reread.

 

Let us start with the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, which is appropriate as I used to be a legal secretary. I am a fictional character; I exist merely as  a vehicle to tell this story. Oh to be sure there is a grain of truth to this story, as there is with all good stories, but the events told did not happen exactly the way they will be related and they didn't exactly happen to me, because as I have said I am a fictional character.

I hope you appreciate my honesty, by telling you this right at the start of this tale, but I thought it would establish a level of trust between us and you would know that I was not a liar. That is not to say what follows is true, it might not have happened at all. But let us assume that it did, which is much more fun, don’t you agree?

My name is Brenda, but if you don’t like it you can pick any name you like, I won’t be offended. Obviously, Brenda is not my real name, unless it is double buff, so it doesn't matter anyway.
Many years ago, exactly when doesn't matter, but we are talking early 1960's I think, I was, as I said a legal secretary.

I was 24 and I had a huge crush on my boss, who was at least 50. I never knew my own father, I won’t bore you with that, it wouldn't be true even if I told you, so I suppose I had this whole father figure thing going on. Plausible? Well if not then make up your own reasons while I get on with the story.
I loved my job, but I wasn't very good at it. In fact, I was very bad at it. I had an assistant, a girl from the typing pool called Linda. She was a great shorthand typist but that was about it. In all other respects, she was as bad as I was.

Then one day between us, we managed to send some important legal documents to the wrong office. They always seem to be important don’t they? I mean, I have never heard of unimportant documents being sent to the wrong office. Anyway, I was angry with myself and Linda and I really felt I had let my boss down.

My boss, I suppose I had better give him a name, not his real one of course. Sir Brian Hughes. I always wanted to work for a real ‘sir’. So my boss, Sir Brian was livid. I got a real bollocking. Now it occurs to me that if you are not English or are too young to remember the 1960's then you might be getting lost at this point. Well I am not going to stop and explain everything, but for the record, a ‘real bollocking’ means I got shouted at and really well told off by someone who was very, very cross.

I got told off so much that I started to cry and Sir Brian immediately became upset and told me it was alright and it didn't matter, which was totally wrong. He had every right to tell me off and I told him so. In fact, I realised that given the nature of the mistake I expected to be getting the sack.

“There is no question of that.” He said reassuringly. “These things happen.”

“They happen to me every darn week.” I snivelled. I do swear and I think maybe I did, but it is naughty so I changed that bit to make me look like a nicer person.
“Well quite.” He groaned, not disagreeing you notice. “But that doesn't mean I am going to sack you. Maybe we can get a new girl instead of… thing out there.”

“Its not thing’s… I mean Linda’s fault. She’s only a kid, I am suppose to be the senior.” I pointed out.

“Linda yes, sorry, I knew that. Its just that its not every day we lose £5,000 worth of business, I am bit overwrought.” Sir Brian apologised as he mopped his brow.

“Well what are you going to do about it? We can’t go on like this, really we can’t sir.”

“Just try to do better Brenda, that’s all. At least try.”

“Well you should at least spank me.” I suggested.

“What?” He looked confused.

“Spank me. It is what my old boss used to do.”

“Is it indeed? Are you sure you are not telling a tiny fib Brenda?”

“No sir. When I worked in the hotel. I was always getting things wrong. We all did. Well the girls anyway. Then he spanked us. Really hard.”
As unlikely as it seems, I was not making this up. Well unless I am, that’s for you to decide. Our boss used to tell us to make up rooms and book certain people in. Even though we took great care, it seems were always getting it wrong. I think that sometimes things got ‘changed’ afterwards. Then he would call us into the office and tell us he was going to give us a spanking. The third day I was there, he called three of us new girls into his office and told us that we had to buck our ideas up. I was really surprised, being only 19, when he said that he was going to take our knickers down and give us all a sound spanking on our bare bottoms.

One of the girls, being a bit older than us suggested that she would rather leave and that she thought he was a rather unpleasant man. I think her exact words, or close to them were: “You can stick your job you flipping disgusting old pervert.” She might not have said flipping.

After she had gone, Carol, the other girl got a bit upset and asked if she could be excused a spanking. He said no, which made sense to me at the time. I mean why should she be if she deserved it?

He put her over his knee and took her knickers down right in front of me. For a small girl she had a very big bum, I thought. It started off very white and ended up very red. Although it wasn’t a very hard spanking and her tears were a bit over the top I thought.

When it was my turn, I was really embarrassed to have a man looking at my bare bum. Although my boss pointed out that I deserved it and it was part of the punishment. The spanking really hurt, although I didn’t cry on that occasion.

I got spanked a lot after that. It was fun. Oh I don’t mean I liked it, well I did sort of. It always hurt and sometimes I cried and sometimes I couldn’t sit down afterwards. But it was fun afterwards when I was alone, if you know what I mean. Well I suppose you do or you wouldn’t be reading this.

Anyway, I told all this to Sir Brian. Not the pervert bit obviously, I didn’t think that would help sell my idea to him. He agreed that it was certainly a tempting idea.
“What are you going to use?” I asked him blushing.

“What do you mean?” He seemed quite distracted.

“Well I don’t see why you should hurt your hand on my bottom, it is me who has to be punished after all. And anyway I deserve a really sound spanking.”
“What would you suggest?” He asked hesitantly.

On my very first day there, I noticed that all the typewriters had dust guards over the writing arms. These were long flat springy lengths of Bakelite type material. I had already sussed that they would be perfect for administering a spanking. I did that a lot in those days, all kinds of things used catch my eye as possible spanking implements. Alright, I said I would be honest, they still do.

“I know just the thing sir.” I said and asked to be excused. I returned with the typewriter guard and handed it to him.

“I am not wearing stockings, is that all right? I know its better and girls are always wearing them in books and that, but I have tights on today.” I apologised as I reached under my skirt and started taking down my hose.

“Perhaps you should leave your things on.” He suggested.

“Don’t be silly sir. It wouldn’t be a proper spanking if I did that. I know it’s awful, but I deserve to be spanked on my completely bare bottom.” I was really embarrassed. But I had to explain didn’t I? I mean it would be cheating if I took advantage of his kind nature when I so obviously deserved to be properly punished.

I slipped my tights and knickers down to my knees and then went over to him. I was wearing a mini dress so when I flopped over his knee my bottom almost bared itself.

“How… how much do you think?” He asked.

“A lot I would think.” I said not really certain myself. “I have been very bad. Spank me until I am good and crying and then add a bit more.”
“I see.”

“Look please sir, do what you think, I really shouldn’t be consulted.” I was a little ashamed at my own impudence.

The first swat imparted a nice sting and wiggled a bit. There were a few more like that and he told me later that I actually started purring.

“You are not really doing it hard enough.” I suggested as humbly as I could.

“Oh right oh.” He saluted. It was cute.

Then it really hurt. Then the next was worse. After a few minutes, I couldn’t help but cry.

“Are you alright?” He asked concerned. “You really are quite red.”

“It’s supposed to be like that, honestly sir, I have to be really well punished.” I sniffed.

Actually, he did a really good job. I was very sorry long before he stopped spanking me and I really did want him to stop. That is how it should be.

When he eventually let me stand up I was crying my eyes out.

“Let that be a lesson to you.” He said sternly, but he was smiling.

“Yes sir, sorry sir.” I sobbed. “Shall I go and stand in the corner now?”

“Eh perhaps next time.” He said reluctantly. “I really think we should work now and see if we can repair some of this damage.”

I got dressed and went out into the outer office. Linda just sat there open mouthed.

“Are we going to get the sack? I hate that typing pool.” She asked

“No.” I said rubbing my bottom.

“Did he spank you?”

“You bet.”

“Is he going to spank me too?” She looked cute chewing her lip.

“I don’t know. He ought to. But if he doesn’t I will spank you myself.” I said. “A new office policy.”

“Oh gosh.” Her hands went to her bottom. “I got the cane at typing school. My teacher said we were lucky, because in her day they got spanked at work as well. I thought that meant I wouldn’t be.”

“Well you were wrong weren’t you?” I scolded.

I was way too sore to sit down, let alone take her over my knee so I told I would spank her the next day after work unless Sir Brian did it first.
“Oh.” She pouted. But I liked that she didn’t argue.

The next day she told me that she had been out for a drink with a friend and had asked her about spanking in the office. This annoyed me. She should know better than tattle about the workings of our office. I thought she was going to come out with some modern nonsense about the infantilising of women, it was all the rage in those days, but she told me that although her friend wasn’t spanked, she had heard that one of the barristers spanked his legal aid.

“I mean to say, a barrister, it must be legal. I suppose the more important the legal office the more important the punishment is. I mean Sir Brian is a ‘sir’ after all. I expect that explains it.” Her mouth was a perfect O as she finished and she looked at me with something approaching actual wonder.
“Well that’s right and confidential too.” I said pointedly.

“Oh.” She clapped her hand to her mouth and winced, “sorry.”

“I’ll have to spank you for that too later.” I said as crossly as I could.

She blushed.
Later on, as I took her over my knee I was still tender I realised. I decided that it was more fun, I mean more appropriate, if I denuded Linda myself. I explained that she should wear only stockings and suspenders to work from now on and she should take care to wear her briefs over the outside of the straps. I fully intended to do the same myself and subsequently did.
Linda had a small bottom, but very pert. It was very cute, like two white billiard balls in a sausage skin. I picked up the typewriter guard and brought it down smartly across her bare bottom.

“Ow.” She said angrily.

“Enough of that.” I snapped. “You know you deserve this, its not meant to be fun.”

“Sorry.” She growled with a bit of a pout. “But it hurt.”

“It is supposed to.”

I spanked really hard. Much harder and longer than I had been spanked. I was being kind I thought. I was giving a spanking as I should have got one. Linda didn’t see it that way at the time and started shouting the place down.

The door opened and Sir Brian poked his head out.

“What’s going on?” He asked, then as he caught sight of Linda’s bare and by now very red bottom he added, “oh.”

“I thought you had gone home sir.” I blushed. This was crunch time. “I am just explaining the new office disciplinary procedures to Linda.”

“There are people still working in the other offices.” He said weakly.

“Oh sorry sir, quite right. I’ll finish later.” I pulled a sorry face and he retreated back to his office.

Linda was just a sobbing mess over my lap.

“Please can I go home now?” She wept.

“No of course not, we still haven’t finished. We still have to deal with your indiscretion.” I explained.

“I won’t do it again. I am really sorry.”

“Come on buck up.” I said encouragingly. “You want to be a better legal clerk don’t you?”

“I suppose.” She sniffed grudgingly.

sI made her stand in the corner with her bare bottom on view for about an hour and a half until Sir Brian left. He had a very curious look on his face as he went out the door, I don’t know why.
Once he was gone, I called Linda out of the corner for the rest of her spanking. She didn’t take it well.
However, the next day she came to me and said she had been thinking it over and said that she had deserved a spanking and thanked me for advancing her legal training.
“There is one more thing.” She said wincing as she gingerly eased herself into her chair. “After you have been spanked do you get… feelings? At home after I mean when you’re in bed?”

“I am not sure what you mean.” I lied.

“Oh it doesn’t matter.” She blushed.

Linda accepted the new spanking regime with little complaint after that. After all, I only had to spank once or twice a week. Then I usually had to report to Sir Brian to be spanked for allowing Linda to err in the first place.

“I am sorry.” She said with a pitying face. “I don’t know how I made all those typing errors.”
I have to explain, that at this point I was standing in the corner waiting to be called into Sir Brian’s office for a spanking for Linda’s error. This was one night after the days work during that first month and we were still settling down to it.

“Well you have been spanked for your part in it.” I conceded.

I had spanked her the day before, quite vigorously too, so much so, that she still wasn’t sitting easily and her discomfort was on her face as she rose to put on her coat.
“I know but it seems so harsh for you to have to be spanked as well. After all it was my fault.” She winced a little as she reached for the coat rack.
The reason I remember this spanking above the others that month was that I had made some small alterations to the copy myself after she had perfectly adequately typed it up. This, I tell myself, was in the interests of office discipline, because she was hardly making any mistakes after the first couple of spankings and we really did need to establish a healthy disciplinary pattern before we all got too comfortable.

“You may come in now Brenda.” Sir Brain said sternly.

Then as I seemingly reluctantly entered his office, he said: “Oh about standing in the corner…”
“Oh I am sorry sir, really I am, I know I should have bared my bottom first, but it is so embarrassing with Linda there to see.” I was frantically wringing my hands as I said it.
“Oh I was going to say that it wasn’t necessary… eh that is until after Linda had gone home. Unless I am particularly cross with you of course.” He coughed.
Such a lovely man I thought, so considerate.

The spanking that followed took my breath away. I was astonished. He was really getting into his stride. By the time he was done with me, I was sobbing hard and my begging was sincere. At that moment, I truly regretted suggesting a spanking regime at all. It certainly cured me of any notions I may have had about deliberate misbehaving.
After a few months, he took it upon himself to sometimes spank Linda as well. That was actually quite satisfying as inevitably I was there to watch. It was particularly fun when she had to stay behind late to do corner time. Sir Brian and I never relented on her bare bottom drill for that. After all, she was only a junior. She quite understood and once thanked me for being strict with her.
About a year later Sir Brian asked if I thought a cane might be effective. I quailed at the prospect and said I didn’t think it was necessary to go that far.
“It sounds if you think it would be then.” He nodded I thoughtfully. “I think I’ll get one.”
I turned to Linda for some in comfort and mutual apprehension but she just said: “Its really good that Sir Brian is making such an effort with our training.”
She changed her tune a little after her first caning, but I could see his point. We had stopped fearing a spanking and even Linda had started provoking one now and again if I had been neglecting her.

Then one day about three years after that first fateful spanking I was across Sir Brian’s knee bawling my eyes out and really wondering if I would be able sit down by Christmas, when his wife walked in on us.

“Whatever are you doing?” She gasped.

“Eh… just a spot of office discipline my dear.” He said with a fixed grin.
Frankly, at that moment, I welcomed the interruption, but I was not oblivious to the danger to our little arrangement. I was breathing heavily and trying to ride out the blaze in my backside as I waited for her next response.

“Well you never spank me.” She said indignantly.

“Well you never do much to deserve it my dear.” He countered.

“What about when I spent the housekeeping on that dress. You nagged and scolded me for days. You could have spanked me then instead.” She grumbled.
“Very well dear, I shall spank you from now on.” He said cheerfully. “In fact I shall spank you tonight for the dress affair, I am still furious with you.”
“Oh. Hold on I didn’t mean…” She looked decidedly frayed at his words. “I was only making a point. You don’t have to…”
“No, no dear don’t mention it. You made your point and tonight I shall make mine. Was there something else? I must press on, this girl’s bottom is getting cold.”
The spanking regime reached new heights after that. Sometimes we had to go in at weekends and bend over side by side for a lengthy dose of the cane. Sir Brian became quite an expert. Also, his wife frequently called in late and I was always sent away. Not that I didn’t sneak back and listen at the door. She was such a crybaby when getting spanked and she positively hated the cane. The three of us frequently compared notes.

After five years, Linda moved on and I had the devil’s own job finding a willing replacement. In the end we settled on an American intern. She thought it a quaint English custom and was more than happy to go along with it after Sir Brian arranged some decent digs for her. Later Sir Brian moved heaven and earth to get her an extension. So she was with us for two years.
I stayed until Sir Brian retired; by then such things were just not done anyway and our last two typists were really not going to go for it.

No one has come forward to claim it. I think it was probably a story from one of the old spanking magazines. 

Stay safe. Have a fun weekend.

Ronnie

xx

A Cane Story

Still on the subject of canes:) Thanks for your comments to Friday's cane question post.

I think I'll have to mention to P that the cane needs to come out in our house very soon.

Here's a story that some of you may remember. I like it, makes me smile. 

"So what were you like then as a schoolboy?" She asked in a desultory fashion. I had a terrible feeling that I was boring her despite trying to appear interesting. I could hardly answer that I was in all probability even duller than I must appear now, so I did the obvious thing, I lied.

"Oh I was a bit of a rebel actually. You know always in trouble!"

She gazed at me, her dark eyelashes fluttering, her large baby blue eyes wide open as if attempting to see me in a new light. Whether she believed me or not I am not quite sure but at least she had stopped yawning and was now looking thoughtful. As we were leaving the car she asked.

"Did you ever get the cane then?"

That question I admit rather stopped me in my tracks. To be honest I had a thing about being caned and partly regretted that I had escaped that particular punishment. Boys were frequently caned but not boys like myself who slavishly followed all the school rules. In fact my behavior was so exemplary I was never punished at all. My reputation, if I possessed such a thing, was as a blindly obedient boy who did exactly as he was told. Nevertheless I had got the bit between my teeth and was busy rewriting my own legend.

"Oh yes, I should say so. We had this form mistress, Miss Taylor. She was only a young woman but dreadfully strict. I must have had six of the best from her at least a dozen times!"

I shrugged my shoulders and affected an air of heroic fortitude. Miss Taylor indeed had a reputation for strictness, she frequently sent to the Head with a hand written note and I'd once witnessed her cane two boys in my class for bullying. The incident lingered still in my memory. I was almost envious of the bullies as I was in the stock room next door doing my good deed for the day and returning some text books when the punishment took place. Each boy received four strokes of the cane. The first boy took his punishment in silence, all you could hear was the cane falling on tightly stretched trouser seat. However, the second boy was crying even before it started and after each stroke of the cane let out a desperate howl of pain. Not that the boy's tearful pleading stopped Miss Taylor carrying out the punishment. Susan had a most disconcerting way of staring, she was now gazing at me as if I was suddenly a person of great interest.

"Really, how awful. It sounds like something Charles Dickens would write about! They never had anything like that at the girls school I went to!" She said almost enviously. Yes, she was definitely seeing me in a new light. In fact I was seeing myself in a new light and feverishly hoping we weren't going to meet anyone who remembered me as I really was. I pointed out the cricket pitch and the nets which still hadn't been taken down despite the term ending. Then the swimming pool, which was always freezing cold I remember. However it seemed Susan was much more interested in the disciplinary practices of the school.

"Did it hurt dreadfully when you were caned?" She enquired. As we were walking she inserted her hand in mine which was rather a nice surprise.

"Well some chaps used to make a fuss but I just used to grin and bear it! No it never really bothered me being caned. Just an occupational hazard of being a bit of a rascal I suppose! You know how it is, you do the crime you accept the punishment!"

This was a bit rich since the one thing I have always been incapable of is suffering in silence. She was now looking at me with something like hero worship in those large blue eyes. Unless I was very much mistaken, Susan had more than a passing interest in corporal punishment herself. Well we certainly now had something in common at least.

We were standing in the shadow of the schools main entrance but I didn't want to risk going in so I was quietly attempting to lead Susan back to the car.

"Shall we go inside? Aren't you curious to see if it has changed at all?" She asked. I was just about to say no, not in the least, let's go back to the car, when an attractive well dressed woman seemed to appear from nowhere. It was Miss Taylor! I could feel the colour draining from my face.

"Are you aware that this is private property and you are trespassing?" She asked with intimidating politeness. Her face was tired but still unquestionably, undeniably beautiful. Obviously she didn't recognise me, after all it was six years since we had last seen each other. I don't suppose quiet well behaved boys are all that memorable anyway.

"I am terribly sorry we are just going," I said. Stress had made my voice rise an octave. I lurched towards the car still clutching Susan's hand. Glancing at Miss Taylor over her shoulder she said,

"James used to go to this school many years ago!"

"Come here!" She commanded. Her voice still had the ability to freeze the very marrow in my bones. I turned I was still hoping to make it back to the car before she recognised me. Suddenly a smile of recognition illuminated her severely attractive features.

"Oh yes, I do believe it's James Anthony Mortimer!" She said brightly. Inwardly I groaned, the only thing to do now was make sure our chat was as brief as possible. The last thing I wanted was a trip down memory lane.

"Miss Taylor," I said, "allow me to introduce a friend of mine, Susan Catesby! We were just passing but we really must be getting back now!" I glanced at my watch and smiling nervously said.

"My goodness, is that the time?" I started edging back towards the car park. Susan had a bewildered look on her face as if she couldn't understand my sudden hurry. If only I had been truthful with Susan. Better to have been a bore than a teller of tall tales.

"Nonsense, of course you have time to come to my study both of you and enjoy a cup of tea!"

So I really didn't have much choice in the matter. Fate had conspired against me and before I knew it, there I was, perched on the edge of my seat, waiting to be exposed as a fraud, a young windbag, a one time teachers pet! The blow was not long in coming. Susan sitting on the sofa next to our host, accepting her cup of pale fragrant tea said enthusiastically,

"James, was just telling me how he was always in trouble at school!"

Miss Taylor's eyes seemed to widen perceptibly. A smile hovered for a brief moment on her soft red lips.

"Really!" She said. She sipped her tea smiling it seemed at my discomfiture, in a moment I should be revealed in my true colours. Susan, however was not finished yet.

"And you gave him six of the best a dozen times!" She laughed, as if sharing an amusing joke.

Miss Taylor's eyes seemed for a moment to twinkle with merriment.

"I don't think that is true!" She said, sternly. That's it, I thought, put me quickly out of my misery. I waited for the fatal blow to fall.

"No, I am sure I caned him much more than a dozen times and you know the funny thing was!"

Susan, glanced at me in admiration. I heaved a huge sigh of relief as Miss Taylor continued.

"That he never seemed to really feel it!"

I grinned weakly and wished desperately that someone would change the subject or the ground would quickly open and swallow me up. Miss Taylor was now beaming at me as if I was her favourite little rascal.

"Do you know I never did cane you for putting that mouse in my desk on the last day of term!"

Susan clapped her hands in admiration, laughing as if it was the most amusing practical joke. Of course it wasn't me, everyone knew that it was Edwards, I am sure Miss Taylor knew it was Edwards. Her sources of information I seem to remember were always impeccable. I could hardly spill the beans though, so I grinned weakly and played the part of the unrepentant rascal. I wished fervently the tea wasn't quite so hot.

"Oh he was a naughty boy wasn't he! The funny thing is you would never guess it, to look at him, I mean!" laughed Susan. Her face was looking bright and cheerful for possibly the first time that day.

"How very perceptive of you Miss Catesby! This young girl is a shrewd judge of character I can see. You are very fortunate to have her as a friend James!" Purred Miss Taylor. Her eyes seemed to be shining with mischief. She continued, her smile quite terrifying.

"Yes, I think we can safely say, Master Mortimer has hidden depths!"

"I bet your happy Miss Taylor hasn't got a cane in her desk now!" Chuckled Susan, as she sipped daintily at her tea. I glanced at Miss Taylor a little nervously, who was to say what she had in her desk. I wasn't at all sure I liked the way this conversation was heading.

Miss Taylor, crossed her slender legs on the settee and laughed,

"James would know of course that the cane was never kept in my desk!" Miss Taylor was obviously enjoying herself greatly.

"Of course I remember!" I said, nervously. For a brief moment there was an uncomfortable silence before Miss Taylor said brightly.

"Oh yes! I used to keep it in that large cupboard by the bookshelf as you will no doubt recall James! In fact it's still there now, although I haven't had reason to use it for a week or two!" Desperately I blew on the tea, the quicker we were on the road again the happier I would be.

"I don't suppose it would be possible to see it?" Asked Susan in a thrilling voice.

"Oh indeed. Why not. I am sure it will bring back many painful memories for James though!" Miss Taylor showed no sign of moving.

"James would you be a dear and fetch the cane!" As I put my tea cup down my hand shook, and somewhat nervously I walked over to the large cupboard, Miss Taylor smiled at Susan who laughed. I opened the cupboard door which creaked noisily. In amongst the piles of text books and rolled up maps I could see a thin yellow cane. I picked it up. It felt strangely light in my hand, almost as if it weighed nothing at all.

"Painful memories!" I heard Susan titter. I could feel my cheeks beginning to blush as I handed it to the still seated Miss Taylor. She looked up to me with those merciless bright blue eyes and said jokingly, whilst tapping the cane against her palm.

"It was you that put that mouse in my desk on the last day of term, wasn't it?"

Susan laughed, noisily. A look of horrified delight on her pretty face. I was temporarily deprived of the power of speech and stood there foolishly in front of the two woman seated on the sofa.

"Why don't you sit down James. You look uncomfortable standing there!" Said Miss Taylor, smiling gently and winking at Susan who responded with another peal of laughter. I could feel my cheeks burning as I sat down. One of the disadvantages of being fair skinned is people can easily tell when you are embarrassed.

"For a moment there, I thought you were going to cane him for putting that mouse in your desk!"

Giggled Susan, looking rather pink herself. Miss Taylor and Susan seemed to be getting on so well I seemed almost superfluous.

"Why, would you like me to?" Asked Miss Taylor, She had stopped laughing and then Susan stopped laughing too. Suddenly there was complete silence in the room.

"It might be amusing, I mean just for fun!" She said after a seemingly endless pause. Susan looked even paler than usual as she sat there in a state of nervous anticipation. Miss Taylor turned to me, smirking like a cat that had swallowed the canary. She stood up to her full height and swished the cane menacingly through the air.

"It's only a bit of fun, James! So I mean why not, after all it would be nothing new to such a naughty boy as yourself!" There was that twinkle in here eye again.

She knew I had little choice but to play along. The butterflies in my stomach certainly seemed to be working overtime as I stood up from the chair. Susan had her mouth hidden behind her small pale hand as if she might scream in equal amounts horror and delight at any given moment. Her blue eyes seemed larger than ever.

"Bend over the armchair will you Mortimer! I think Miss Catesby will agree with me that you will benefit greatly from six of the very best!" Said Miss Taylor sweetly. Susan sat on the very edge of her seat as if she was about to witness the changing of water into wine.

The use of my surname had unsettled me still further. Surely this was only going to be a "bit of fun" as Miss Taylor put it! I tried a cheerful smile and failed miserably. Reluctantly I walked over and slowly bent over the armchair. A few moments later I felt the cane tapping gently across the tightly stretched thin cotton of my trousers.

"The thing is when you cane a boy!" Explained Miss Taylor. "You must do so firmly!"

Whack

It felt as if a explosion had recently taken place across my buttocks. Susan was looking directly into my eyes, a rapt expression on her face, as the cane bit. I attempted a brave smile as the excruciating pain made my body arch in agony. Susan's smile grew wider with her eyes.

"Otherwise..."

Whack

I made a gulping sound. My smile by now was that of the condemned man as he draws his last breath and I am sure I did little to convince Susan I was enjoying myself. Nevertheless she smiled back reassuringly.

"..there is no point to it!"

Whack

After that one I nearly dived over the armchair. It felt like someone was holding a barbecue on my behind. I could feel my smile turning into a rictus grin. The next blow came a little quicker with a little extra zest as if Miss Taylor felt she was beating a particularly dusty carpet.

Whack

"Aaaaaah!" It was a new language I had recently invented. The language of untold agony!

Whack

It was definitely getting harder. God it was awful. I suddenly gripped my bottom with both hands and howled like some wounded animal.

"Aaaaarghh!"

" Oh dear! You have moved your hands I am afraid! That one will not count which is a pity!"

Explained Miss Taylor with infinite patience. I was about to complain when the next stroke landed and all my thoughts were suddenly concentrated in one place. Nothing else mattered other than the pain in my backside. Right then if you had told me I had won a fortune I shouldn't have cared less.

Whack

"Please no!" I begged. Miss Taylor took a step back smiling and affected not to hear. I was going to get an extra stroke whether I liked it or not. She put plenty of beef into it!

Whack

"Ah nooooooooooooooooo!!"

It felt as if my bottom had been sliced in quarters, as if the skin had been taken off. It is was all I could do not to burst into tears which were welling up in my eyes! I was still bending over, when Miss Taylor said brightly.

"You may get up now!"

She was still smiling hugely as if she had won first prize in a beauty contest. She turned to Susan whose smile was even wider than Miss Taylor's. Neither of them were offering the slightest sympathy despite my pitiful groans.

"That is how it's done! I do hope you were paying attention my dear as I am sure, if you intend to remain together for any length of time, James would benefit from an occasional good hard caning to remind him... of his schooldays!"

They both laughed as if it was the best joke they had heard in years. But the look on Susan's face as we walked back to the car, me wincing every now and again as some new sharp after-shock reminded me of the ravaged state of my bottom, told me she had taken Miss Taylor's 'joke' far too seriously. When we got in the car and started off, Susan turned to me and asked.

"Where do you suppose someone might acquire a cane like Miss Taylor's, James? I should have asked her before we left, shouldn't I. Just out of interest I mean."

I didn't answer because I didn't know, but I got the impression that Susan was planning for the long term.

Non essential shops, hairdressers, nail bars and other venues are opening up today. Pubs/ restaurants can open for outdoor drinking and eating only.

Stay safe.

Have a good week

Ronnie
xx

Story from malespank

Spanking Towel

What's a girl who blogs about spanking but doesn't have a spanking story to post do? She re-post ones of course:)

It's a short story of when I used this towel to entice P to spank me.  

We came back from shopping and I went upstairs, fished out what I was looking for from P's drawer, you can see it's a small towel with a very clear message on it, it came with the pre xmas cane-iac delivery but P hadn't given it to me but I knew it was in his draw as I'd seen it. I stripped off and lay on the bed with the towel strategically positioned.

P called after a few minutes wondering where I am, Oh just trying to sort something out, could do with your assistance actually, I say.

Up he comes and into the bedroom, I'm lying on the bed, I've even placed his mobile on the pillow hoping he might take a pic for me.

I certainly had been VERY naughty, he was in no doubt about that, and VERY naughty girls get spanked VERY hard. Music to my ears. First he did the decent thing and obligingly snapped me with his mobile, then he took me into our little spare room office which is at the back of the house and noise doesn't travel, put me over his knee, I was totally naked, he told me he wouldn't have me brevitting in his drawer... SMACK... SMACK...he was going to give me the towel anyway but when he decided to....SMACK SMACK.....and I'd have to learn to respect little privacies.....SMACK....HARDER.....Ouch!......and not snoop about for my personal amusement....SMACK....dah dah dah...he'd warned me about this before and he was going to make sure...SMACK SMACK........Ooowww Please!!....I didn't do it again any time soon......SMACK....Ouch!! No!!.........well he spanked me long and hard, holding me with one hand spanking with the other, then alternating to give his hand a break. Unfortunately I didn't have a spare bottom to alternate, it went on for about 5 minutes and I was VERY satisfied my little towel ploy had worked like a dream; at the end he eased his grip and I lay there cooling down. Boy I was hot.

Then we returned to the bedroom and I ended up back on the bed but this time without the naughty towel over my bum, just his hands massaging, rubbing, kneading, working their way to where I had a different type of heat entirely now requiring urgent aattention.......................which it got.

Oh I do love it when P lectures me during a spanking.

Stay safe. Try and have a fun weekend.

Ronnie
xx

Christmas Tart Cards

Didn't know what to share with you today - no weekend spanking story to relate so here's a post of some pictures from a book I found a few years back called 'Tart Cards'.

Some of you may remember the book and pictures I shared. For my new readers - Tart cards were often printed cards (though some of the early ones were handwritten/drawn) and placed in London telephone boxes by the working girls advertising their different type of services during the 1980's when a loophole in the law meant they were not, strictly speaking, illegal. 

The practice of placing cards was known as carding. It is a particularly English phenomenon specific to London and seaside resort around Brighton and Hove (though they did appear in other towns) For the printers who were prepared to take the risk they represented a very regular and lucrative business.

Sex sells but ironically sex was the one word that was not used on the cards. Hand written, euphemism, double entendres, catch phrases, plain text, rhymes and a specialised vocabulary.

As Christmas was a busy one for the girls they tried to bring as much humour and wit to their Christmas working cards with distinctive illustrations and text in order to entice their clients. They have to be inventive and persuasive with their vocabulary in order to sell their wares. Such as 'Treat yourself to some Kinky Kristmas Kapers' or visit a 'Stunning Christmas cracker waiting to be pulled'

Here are some of the Christmas theme cards, a bit tenuous with some of them but I thought they were amusing.

"The images that accompany the slogans and the many hand drawn cards with holly, ivy or a cracker adds to the allure and charm of these particular Christmas working cards". Equally festive words play a part.

as this parody nursery rhyme shows - Sing-a-song-of-sixpence:

Sing a song of Christmas.

a grotto full of toys,

Lots of canes, whips and chains,

for all you naughty boys.

Or this playful rhyme:

Christmas cracker needs some fun!Come along and spank her bum

Some preferred word-play and one liners :

'Good Queen Wence-lust, with the 42" bust'.

or

'Red hot Xmas cracker'

'Let me play with your Jingle bells'

 Hope you enjoyed them. 

You can see more of these cards here and here (not Christmas ones)

Have a good week.

Ronnie
xx

Did you ever get the Cane?

I haven't had the time to write as last weekend was busy, it was our Granddaughter's first birthday (where did that year go?) and then we were away for a few day. So here is a story I like (some might have read it before) from malespank.

......"So what were you like then as a schoolboy?" She asked in a desultory fashion. I had a terrible feeling that I was boring her despite trying to appear interesting. I could hardly answer that I was in all probability even duller than I must appear now, so I did the obvious thing, I lied.

"Oh I was a bit of a rebel actually. You know always in trouble!"

She gazed at me, her dark eyelashes fluttering, her large baby blue eyes wide open as if attempting to see me in a new light. Whether she believed me or not I am not quite sure but at least she had stopped yawning and was now looking thoughtful. As we were leaving the car she asked.

"Did you ever get the cane then?"

That question I admit rather stopped me in my tracks. To be honest I had a thing about being caned and partly regretted that I had escaped that particular punishment. Boys were frequently caned but not boys like myself who slavishly followed all the school rules. In fact my behavior was so exemplary I was never punished at all. My reputation, if I possessed such a thing, was as a blindly obedient boy who did exactly as he was told. Nevertheless I had got the bit between my teeth and was busy rewriting my own legend.

"Oh yes, I should say so. We had this form mistress, Miss Taylor. She was only a young woman but dreadfully strict. I must have had six of the best from her at least a dozen times!"

I shrugged my shoulders and affected an air of heroic fortitude. Miss Taylor indeed had a reputation for strictness, she frequently sent to the Head with a hand written note and I'd once witnessed her cane two boys in my class for bullying. The incident lingered still in my memory. I was almost envious of the bullies as I was in the stock room next door doing my good deed for the day and returning some text books when the punishment took place. Each boy received four strokes of the cane. The first boy took his punishment in silence, all you could hear was the cane falling on tightly stretched trouser seat. However, the second boy was crying even before it started and after each stroke of the cane let out a desperate howl of pain. Not that the boy's tearful pleading stopped Miss Taylor carrying out the punishment. Susan had a most disconcerting way of staring, she was now gazing at me as if I was suddenly a person of great interest.

"Really, how awful. It sounds like something Charles Dickens would write about! They never had anything like that at the girls school I went to!" She said almost enviously. Yes, she was definitely seeing me in a new light. In fact I was seeing myself in a new light and feverishly hoping we weren't going to meet anyone who remembered me as I really was. I pointed out the cricket pitch and the nets which still hadn't been taken down despite the term ending. Then the swimming pool, which was always freezing cold I remember. However it seemed Susan was much more interested in the disciplinary practices of the school.

"Did it hurt dreadfully when you were caned?" She enquired. As we were walking she inserted her hand in mine which was rather a nice surprise.

"Well some chaps used to make a fuss but I just used to grin and bear it! No it never really bothered me being caned. Just an occupational hazard of being a bit of a rascal I suppose! You know how it is, you do the crime you accept the punishment!"

This was a bit rich since the one thing I have always been incapable of is suffering in silence. She was now looking at me with something like hero worship in those large blue eyes. Unless I was very much mistaken, Susan had more than a passing interest in corporal punishment herself. Well we certainly now had something in common at least.

We were standing in the shadow of the schools main entrance but I didn't want to risk going in so I was quietly attempting to lead Susan back to the car.

"Shall we go inside? Aren't you curious to see if it has changed at all?" She asked. I was just about to say no, not in the least, let's go back to the car, when an attractive well dressed woman seemed to appear from nowhere. It was Miss Taylor! I could feel the colour draining from my face.

"Are you aware that this is private property and you are trespassing?" She asked with intimidating politeness. Her face was tired but still unquestionably, undeniably beautiful. Obviously she didn't recognise me, after all it was six years since we had last seen each other. I don't suppose quiet well behaved boys are all that memorable anyway.

"I am terribly sorry we are just going," I said. Stress had made my voice rise an octave. I lurched towards the car still clutching Susan's hand. Glancing at Miss Taylor over her shoulder she said,

"James used to go to this school many years ago!"

"Come here!" She commanded. Her voice still had the ability to freeze the very marrow in my bones. I turned I was still hoping to make it back to the car before she recognised me. Suddenly a smile of recognition illuminated her severely attractive features.

"Oh yes, I do believe it's James Anthony Mortimer!" She said brightly. Inwardly I groaned, the only thing to do now was make sure our chat was as brief as possible. The last thing I wanted was a trip down memory lane.

"Miss Taylor," I said, "allow me to introduce a friend of mine, Susan Catesby! We were just passing but we really must be getting back now!" I glanced at my watch and smiling nervously said.

"My goodness, is that the time?" I started edging back towards the car park. Susan had a bewildered look on her face as if she couldn't understand my sudden hurry. If only I had been truthful with Susan. Better to have been a bore than a teller of tall tales.

"Nonsense, of course you have time to come to my study both of you and enjoy a cup of tea!"

So I really didn't have much choice in the matter. Fate had conspired against me and before I knew it, there I was, perched on the edge of my seat, waiting to be exposed as a fraud, a young windbag, a one time teachers pet! The blow was not long in coming. Susan sitting on the sofa next to our host, accepting her cup of pale fragrant tea said enthusiastically,

"James, was just telling me how he was always in trouble at school!"

Miss Taylor's eyes seemed to widen perceptibly. A smile hovered for a brief moment on her soft red lips.

"Really!" She said. She sipped her tea smiling it seemed at my discomfiture, in a moment I should be revealed in my true colours. Susan, however was not finished yet.

"And you gave him six of the best a dozen times!" She laughed, as if sharing an amusing joke.

Miss Taylor's eyes seemed for a moment to twinkle with merriment.

"I don't think that is true!" She said, sternly. That's it, I thought, put me quickly out of my misery. I waited for the fatal blow to fall.

"No, I am sure I caned him much more than a dozen times and you know the funny thing was!"

Susan, glanced at me in admiration. I heaved a huge sigh of relief as Miss Taylor continued.

"That he never seemed to really feel it!"

I grinned weakly and wished desperately that someone would change the subject or the ground would quickly open and swallow me up. Miss Taylor was now beaming at me as if I was her favourite little rascal.

"Do you know I never did cane you for putting that mouse in my desk on the last day of term!"

Susan clapped her hands in admiration, laughing as if it was the most amusing practical joke. Of course it wasn't me, everyone knew that it was Edwards, I am sure Miss Taylor knew it was Edwards. Her sources of information I seem to remember were always impeccable. I could hardly spill the beans though, so I grinned weakly and played the part of the unrepentant rascal. I wished fervently the tea wasn't quite so hot.

"Oh he was a naughty boy wasn't he! The funny thing is you would never guess it, to look at him, I mean!" laughed Susan. Her face was looking bright and cheerful for possibly the first time that day.

"How very perceptive of you Miss Catesby! This young girl is a shrewd judge of character I can see. You are very fortunate to have her as a friend James!" Purred Miss Taylor. Her eyes seemed to be shining with mischief. She continued, her smile quite terrifying.

"Yes, I think we can safely say, Master Mortimer has hidden depths!"

"I bet your happy Miss Taylor hasn't got a cane in her desk now!" Chuckled Susan, as she sipped daintily at her tea. I glanced at Miss Taylor a little nervously, who was to say what she had in her desk. I wasn't at all sure I liked the way this conversation was heading.

Miss Taylor, crossed her slender legs on the settee and laughed,

"James would know of course that the cane was never kept in my desk!" Miss Taylor was obviously enjoying herself greatly.

"Of course I remember!" I said, nervously. For a brief moment there was an uncomfortable silence before Miss Taylor said brightly.

"Oh yes! I used to keep it in that large cupboard by the bookshelf as you will no doubt recall James! In fact it's still there now, although I haven't had reason to use it for a week or two!" Desperately I blew on the tea, the quicker we were on the road again the happier I would be.

"I don't suppose it would be possible to see it?" Asked Susan in a thrilling voice.

"Oh indeed. Why not. I am sure it will bring back many painful memories for James though!" Miss Taylor showed no sign of moving.

"James would you be a dear and fetch the cane!" As I put my tea cup down my hand shook, and somewhat nervously I walked over to the large cupboard, Miss Taylor smiled at Susan who laughed. I opened the cupboard door which creaked noisily. In amongst the piles of text books and rolled up maps I could see a thin yellow cane. I picked it up. It felt strangely light in my hand, almost as if it weighed nothing at all.

"Painful memories!" I heard Susan titter. I could feel my cheeks beginning to blush as I handed it to the still seated Miss Taylor. She looked up to me with those merciless bright blue eyes and said jokingly, whilst tapping the cane against her palm.

"It was you that put that mouse in my desk on the last day of term, wasn't it?"

Susan laughed, noisily. A look of horrified delight on her pretty face. I was temporarily deprived of the power of speech and stood there foolishly in front of the two woman seated on the sofa.

"Why don't you sit down James. You look uncomfortable standing there!" Said Miss Taylor, smiling gently and winking at Susan who responded with another peal of laughter. I could feel my cheeks burning as I sat down. One of the disadvantages of being fair skinned is people can easily tell when you are embarrassed.

"For a moment there, I thought you were going to cane him for putting that mouse in your desk!"

Giggled Susan, looking rather pink herself. Miss Taylor and Susan seemed to be getting on so well I seemed almost superfluous.

"Why, would you like me to?" Asked Miss Taylor, She had stopped laughing and then Susan stopped laughing too. Suddenly there was complete silence in the room.

"It might be amusing, I mean just for fun!" She said after a seemingly endless pause. Susan looked even paler than usual as she sat there in a state of nervous anticipation. Miss Taylor turned to me, smirking like a cat that had swallowed the canary. She stood up to her full height and swished the cane menacingly through the air.

"It's only a bit of fun, James! So I mean why not, after all it would be nothing new to such a naughty boy as yourself!" There was that twinkle in here eye again.

She knew I had little choice but to play along. The butterflies in my stomach certainly seemed to be working overtime as I stood up from the chair. Susan had her mouth hidden behind her small pale hand as if she might scream in equal amounts horror and delight at any given moment. Her blue eyes seemed larger than ever.

"Bend over the armchair will you Mortimer! I think Miss Catesby will agree with me that you will benefit greatly from six of the very best!" Said Miss Taylor sweetly. Susan sat on the very edge of her seat as if she was about to witness the changing of water into wine.

The use of my surname had unsettled me still further. Surely this was only going to be a "bit of fun" as Miss Taylor put it! I tried a cheerful smile and failed miserably. Reluctantly I walked over and slowly bent over the armchair. A few moments later I felt the cane tapping gently across the tightly stretched thin cotton of my trousers.

"The thing is when you cane a boy!" Explained Miss Taylor. "You must do so firmly!"

Whack

It felt as if a explosion had recently taken place across my buttocks. Susan was looking directly into my eyes, a rapt expression on her face, as the cane bit. I attempted a brave smile as the excruciating pain made my body arch in agony. Susan's smile grew wider with her eyes.

"Otherwise..."

Whack

I made a gulping sound. My smile by now was that of the condemned man as he draws his last breath and I am sure I did little to convince Susan I was enjoying myself. Nevertheless she smiled back reassuringly.

"..there is no point to it!"

Whack

After that one I nearly dived over the armchair. It felt like someone was holding a barbecue on my behind. I could feel my smile turning into a rictus grin. The next blow came a little quicker with a little extra zest as if Miss Taylor felt she was beating a particularly dusty carpet.

Whack

"Aaaaaah!" It was a new language I had recently invented. The language of untold agony!

Whack

It was definitely getting harder. God it was awful. I suddenly gripped my bottom with both hands and howled like some wounded animal.

"Aaaaarghh!"

" Oh dear! You have moved your hands I am afraid! That one will not count which is a pity!"

Explained Miss Taylor with infinite patience. I was about to complain when the next stroke landed and all my thoughts were suddenly concentrated in one place. Nothing else mattered other than the pain in my backside. Right then if you had told me I had won a fortune I shouldn't have cared less.

Whack

"Please no!" I begged. Miss Taylor took a step back smiling and affected not to hear. I was going to get an extra stroke whether I liked it or not. She put plenty of beef into it!

Whack

"Ah nooooooooooooooooo!!"

It felt as if my bottom had been sliced in quarters, as if the skin had been taken off. It is was all I could do not to burst into tears which were welling up in my eyes! I was still bending over, when Miss Taylor said brightly.

"You may get up now!"

She was still smiling hugely as if she had won first prize in a beauty contest. She turned to Susan whose smile was even wider than Miss Taylor's. Neither of them were offering the slightest sympathy despite my pitiful groans.

"That is how it's done! I do hope you were paying attention my dear as I am sure, if you intend to remain together for any length of time, James would benefit from an occasional good hard caning to remind him... of his schooldays!"

They both laughed as if it was the best joke they had heard in years. But the look on Susan's face as we walked back to the car, me wincing every now and again as some new sharp after-shock reminded me of the ravaged state of my bottom, told me she had taken Miss Taylor's 'joke' far too seriously. When we got in the car and started off, Susan turned to me and asked.

"Where do you suppose someone might acquire a cane like Miss Taylor's, James? I should have asked her before we left, shouldn't I. Just out of interest I mean."

I didn't answer because I didn't know, but I got the impression that Susan was planning for the long term.

A reader sent me this story. I enjoyed it so sharing with you.  Anon said he found it on one of the true experience websites but can't remember which one. So please, if it is yours, let me know so I can give credit or remove if that's your wish.

Have a fun weekend.

Ronnie
xx