Episode 6: Spanking Lessons
Alison Swift looked at the list of teachers’ names
and gave a deep sigh. She was very uncomfortable taking the role of parent
at the school consultation evening. At twenty-two she was much younger
than the other parents and she didn’t look the part with her shoulder
length hair dyed a vibrant scarlet and dressed in a tan leather jacket,
white tee-shirt, tiny black mini skirt and stiletto heeled ankle boots.
Her older boyfriend Bill Johnson was in Springwood Open Prison and
that had given her three major problems. The first was that she had been
forced to take on the role of step mother to Bill’s troublesome teenage
daughter Julie; the second was that Bill had asked her to come to the
parents evening and find out how his daughter was doing at school; and
third, she really missed the sex and frequent spankings that had peppered
Alison checked the list again. There were two more
names, Miss Harper and Mr Strictman. Every teacher she had seen so far had
given her the same story; Julie is a bright popular girl who devotes all
of her energy to disrupting the class with talking and mischief. Alison
arrived at the next classroom and knocked on the door. Susan Harper
invited her in.
“I know what you’re going to say Miss Harper,”
said Alison, taking a seat. “She’s noisy, disruptive, and could do
“You’re absolutely right,” said Susan. “She
is a talented girl and she is wasting her ability.
Julie needs firm control both here and at home. For one thing, you
really need to make her do her homework.”
“She doesn’t take any notice of me, Miss Harper,
and her dad’s in prison.”
“Well I wouldn’t normally say this,” said
Susan, “but Julie’s behaviour calls for extreme measures. You really
need to consider applying a firm hand where it will do most good.”
“I’ve tried being firm,” protested Alison.
“She doesn’t take any notice.”
“No,” said Susan. “I haven’t made myself
clear. When I say a firm hand I mean it literally. You should consider
whether it is time to stop talking and start putting that girl over your
When Alison left the classroom she was undecided
about what to do with Julie. She looked down at the teacher list; Just Mr.
Strictman left. “Well I don’t know if Julie needs a spanking,” she
thought, “but I know I do. So today is your lucky day Mr. Strictman.”
Raised voices were coming from Strictman’s classroom so Alison sat down on one of the seats that had been
placed outside for the convenience of waiting parents. Two other mums
arrived and joined her on the seats.
“I hear this teacher is very strict,” said one of
“Strict by name, strict by nature,” answered the
Suddenly the classroom door burst open and Mr.
Strictman ushered out a flustered looking parent.
“So I will look forward to a marked improvement in
Jonathan’s work,” he said to the departing woman. He turned and smiled at the three women waiting to see him.
Strictman was tall, immaculately dressed, with dark hair, greying at the
sides. He had chosen to wear his gown. He exuded authority and his smile
gave him the appearance of a crocodile about to consume its next victim.
“Ah, Miss Swift, here to discuss Julie Johnson I believe. Do come in.”
He disappeared into the classroom with his gown flapping behind him.
Alison followed him in, closed the door and took a seat.
“Do you remember me Mr. Strictman?” asked Alison.
“I certainly do Alison. How’s your mother? Is she
Alison’s mother had employed Strictman as a private
tutor a few years earlier to coach the teenage Alison in mathematics.
Alison had never known her father and as an attractive single mum, her
mother and Strictman had become close. Alison had returned home
unexpectedly one day to find Strictman’s car parked outside. She had
looked upstairs for her mum but had come away quickly when she heard
giggling and an unmistakable sound coming from her mother’s bedroom. Mr.
Strictman was spanking her mother. The relationship had broken up when
Strictman’s conscience eventually kicked in and he had admitted that he
“Mum’s fine,” said Alison, with her face
showing a little of the bitterness she felt about the way Strictman had
treated her mother. “But we should talk about Julie.”
Julie was well behaved in Strictman’s class; in
fact everyone was. But Alison explained how the girl was a menace in her
“It’s been suggested,” said Alison, “that I
need to put Julie over my knee.”
Strictman looked shocked. Although he enjoyed
spanking for pleasure, with his natural authoritarian charisma he had
never needed to resort to the physical punishment of children.
“The thing is,” Alison continued with a shy grin,
“I don’t really know how to do it and I was wondering if you would
“I don’t understand,” said Strictman. “What
makes you think I would know anything about spanking?”
“Please Mr. Strictman, I know you spanked my mother and it would be very unfortunate
for you if anyone found out about it. I wonder what Mrs. Strictman would
Strictman turned pail and then red as his shock
turned to anger. “What exactly do you want Alison. Blackmail is a very
dangerous and ugly business.”
“It’s not really blackmail,” protested Alison.
“I just want you to give me a spanking lesson.”
Strictman stood up. “Oh I’ll teach you a lesson
young lady; a lesson you will never forget.”
Alison’s stomach turned over. Had she bitten off
more than she could chew? Strictman marched over to the classroom door and
apologised to the young women outside, explaining that he would be a
little while as he had a problem to deal with. He then closed and locked
“Follow me.” He said to Alison.
Strictman paced swiftly to the back of the classroom, scooping up a chair on the way. Alison stumbled after him with her stiletto heels tapping against the hard tiled floor. Strictman unlocked a door and swept on through. It was a storeroom lined with shelves of books and stationary. It was spacious, certainly large enough for an irate teacher to discreetly spank a delinquent parent. He put the chair in the centre of the room and sat down. He instructed Alison to close the door.
Alison was used to a safe, loving, role-play spanking
from her boyfriend. But standing next to this angry, authoritarian
teacher, knowing she was about to be put over his knee for a spanking she
truly deserved was a whole new experience; and one that terrified her. She
started to back away.
“I, I’ve changed my mind Mr. Strictman. I don’t
need a spanking lesson after all.”
“Oh, on the contrary Miss Swift. I have never met a
girl more in need of such a lesson and I promise that you will learn your
lesson very well.
Strictman leaned quickly forward and grabbed Alison
by the wrist. He pulled her towards him and then wrapping an arm around
her slim waist he swung her over his knee. Alison squealed as she suddenly
found herself facing the floor with her bottom uppermost and vulnerable.
Alison yelped as the first smack landed with a
resounding crack on her firm right cheek, thinly covered by her tight mini
skirt. She looked pleadingly back over her shoulder but Strictman was
clearly determined to carry out his promise. More smacks followed, fast
and hard building up an unbearable sting. Alison reached back to try and
protect her bottom but this only seemed to anger Strictman even more and
he pushed her hand aside and continued the spanking with renewed severity.
Eventually he stopped and allowed Alison to reach
back and gently rub her bottom. The punishment had been really painful but
Alison knew she deserved it. She was tearful and sore but she was also
excited. She had blackmailed Strictman into spanking her in order to
satisfy her sexual needs and now she needed to go home and finish the task
herself. She tried to push herself to her feet but Strictman held her
firmly in place.
“W…What are you doing Mr. Strictman? I’ve
learned my lesson. I’m going to behave. You can let me go now.”
“That, young lady, was a lesson in how to spank for
a minor offence. Now, I will demonstrate the punishment for a more serious
misdemeanour.” Strictman pushed Alison’s hand away and pinned it to
“No!” cried Alison. “Please, let me go. I’ve
“Then here is another lesson for you to learn. When
you misbehave, you don’t decide when your punishment is over. Indeed I
rather think you have enjoyed the spanking so far and a punishment is not
Strictman slipped his hand under the hem of
Alison’s skirt and slid it up over her bottom revealing her white
panties. He was pleased to confirm that the exposed cheeks that bulged
from each side of her pants were hot and spattered with pink hand marks.
Alison struggled, protested and kicked her legs but Strictman held her
firmly in place.
The second spanking started. Strictman concentrated
on the soft bare flesh where Alison’s bronzed thighs met her burning
bottom. Each stinging smack on her sore erogenous flesh raised her
excitement. As the pace increased Alison writhed on Strictman’s knee,
conscious of his swollen manhood beneath her. Each smack released another
moan and as the pain reached a crescendo she suddenly climaxed.
Strictman gave Alison a few moments to recover. She
lay over his knee panting and exhausted. “Well,” he said, “that was
unexpected. Normally that
would be an end to your punishment but as you have clearly been enjoying
yourself, I don’t believe you have been punished at all. We had better
continue to the next lesson.”
“Please don’t,” begged Alison tearfully. “I
promise I’ll never blackmail anyone ever again.”
Strictman laughed. “Punishment is not open to
negotiation.” He gripped the waist of Alison’s panties and dragged
them down to her knees.
The third spanking was delivered with even more
ferocity than the first two. Strictman seemed determined to take the skin
off Alison’s tortured bare bottom. Alison kicked and struggled. Tears flooded
down her cheeks and soon she was bawling uncontrollably.
Outside the classroom the two young mum’s looked at
each other and shuffled nervously in their seats. They had been aware of a
puzzling sound like muffled clapping coming from the classroom but now
there was no mistake; it was the sound of someone receiving a very sound
spanking. They thought fearfully of the poor young woman who had gone into
the classroom before them. They knew Strictman was strict with the
children but they hadn’t expected him to be so strict with parents.
One of the women was about to leave, fearing that she
would be next over Strictman’s knee. But before she could escape, the
classroom door opened and Alison emerged. Her eyes were red with crying
and her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment at having to walk past the
waiting mothers. Her bottom was so sore that she couldn’t help rubbing
it gently as she walked down the corridor.
“In you come Mrs. Brown,” said Strictman cheerfully. Mrs. Brown hurried past Strictman into the classroom, fearing that she would be helped on her way with hard smack to her bottom.
It was visitors’ day at Springwood Open Prison and
Alison waited at one of the tables in the visitors’ area for the
prisoners to enter. She shuffled around, trying to find a comfortable way
to sit on the hard seat. Her bottom was still tender from parents evening
the night before. A door opened and a guard entered followed by a dozen
eager prisoners. Bill Johnson gazed around the room, spotted Alison and
came to sit down.
The couple chatted, pleased to see each other. Bill
was keen to have news of his daughter and the conversation wound around to
how Julie was doing at school. Alison repeated what the teachers had said
and Bill became gradually more angry.
“You can tell Julie that she is grounded until we
see big improvements at school.”
“One of the teachers said we are not strict
enough,” said Alison. “She said we needed to give Julie a good
Anger flashed in Bill’s eyes. “Who said that?”
“It was Miss Harper. Julie’s English teacher.”
Alison could see that Bill was furious.
“Well I will tell you this,” said Bill
menacingly. “No one is going to spank my daughter. Is that clear?”
“Crystal,” said Alison. “I wouldn’t dream of
“And as for Miss Harper, if anyone needs a spanking
it’s her! How dare she make suggestions like that. It’s a good job
I’m locked up because if I was free I’d be down to that school to show
her what a good spanking really is.”
After visiting time, Bill went to his cell. It was
more a room than a cell. The prison was very low security, operating on a
principal that prisoners would not try to escape because it would mean a
double sentence in a much more unpleasant environment. Bill threw himself
down on his bed. He had tried to throw off his anger about Miss Harper but
he couldn’t shake it. He was furious and he was going to have to do
something about it.
Bill worked in the prison allotment, growing
vegetables for the prison and for various local green grocers. He worked
in a small team and the day after visiting he persuaded his group to cover
for him for two hours while he nipped over the fence to sort out a
personal matter in the local town.
Susan Harper loved her Friday morning class. Her
students were interested, dedicated and enthusiastic seventeen and
eighteen year olds in their final year before university. And they liked
Miss Harper, the boys especially. Miss Harper was twenty-four and very
pretty. Today they watched as she wrote on the white board. Her long silky
dark hair hung straight down her back, contrasting with her crisp white
blouse. But mostly, with her back to the class, the boys’ eyes were
fixed on her bottom, swaying as she moved along the board. She had come to
work in a black trouser suit but she had taken off the jacket leaving her
firm peach bottom elegantly displayed in her figure hugging pants. She had
just written the day’s topic of discussion on the board when the
classroom door burst open.
Bill Johnson came into the room. He was lightly
disguised with a fake beard and a pair of heavy rimmed glasses.
“Miss Harper?” he asked.
“Yes. Can I help you,” said Susan looking puzzled
and a little annoyed at having her class disrupted.
“Who the hell do you think you are, telling parents
to spank their children?” said Bill striding forwards.
Susan backed away. “You’d better leave now or
I’ll call the police,” she said.
Bill grabbed a chair and slammed it down in front of
the class. “I’m taking over your class,” said Bill, “and today’s
lesson is about an eye for an eye. You tried to have a child spanked and
the penalty for that is that you are going over my knee.”
Susan backed up against the wall and Bill marched up
to her and wrapped a strong arm around her waist lifting her off the
ground. One of the girls in the class tried to run to the door for help
but Bill stopped her with a piercing look. “Sit down or you’ll be
next,” he barked. The girl tearfully sat down. Bill carried Susan
struggling over to the chair, sat down and forced her over his knee.
“No! Let… me… go!” she screamed.
Bill didn’t have time to waste with niceties. He
just set about delivering a savage spanking to Susan’s thinly covered
bottom. Susan thrashed about but couldn’t defend herself against the
storm of furious smacks that clattered against her rear. After a long and
painful minute Bill shifted her over his left knee and pinned her legs
down with his right leg. This pushed Susan’s head towards the floor,
stretched her trousers even tighter and positioned her bottom for Bill to
concentrate his attack on the most sensitive area. Bill put his full
effort into the spanking, raising his arm high and powering each smack
from his shoulder. Bill “spanker” Johnson had a well-earned reputation
for spanking any young adult females that he encountered in his
burglaries, but he had never spanked so hard. Susan screamed and cried and
struggled to escape. She desperately tried to reach back and protect her
bottom. Bill pinned her arm behind her back, holding her firm, and
continued the merciless spanking.
One of the girls in the class moved her feet and
knocked over her bag. As it fell, some of its contents emptied onto the
floor, including her hairbrush. Unable to find her small plastic hairbrush
that morning, she had borrowed a large polished hardwood brush from her
mother’s dressing table. As it clattered to the floor Bills eye’s
darted to it and he stopped spanking.
“Bring that brush to me,” he ordered.
Susan twisted round and looked in horror with tear
filled eyes at the hairbrush. The girl saw Susan’s pleading look and
hesitated but she was too afraid to defy Bill. She picked up the brush and
brought it timidly out to the front of the class.
“Wait there,” said Bill.
Susan’s trousers were tailored to her narrow waist.
A short zip ran up the side of her hip. Bill grabbed it and pulled it
down. Then grabbing her waistband he tugged and yanked the pants down to
the middle of her thighs. It was a struggle and Bill couldn’t help
dragging her panties down at the same time. The hairbrush girl stood wide
eyed in shock as the painful fiery red skin of Susan’s naked bottom was
“I’m sorry miss,” she said as she handed Bill
the hairbrush and hurried back to her seat.
Bill laid the cold wood against Susan’s scorching
bottom, and ignoring her protests and pleading for him to stop he
continued to deliver the worst spanking of her life to her bare, sore
Finally one of the boys in the class came to his
senses. “That’s enough,” he shouted.
“Yeh,” said another student. “Let her go.”
Suddenly the whole class became animated, shouting
and moving in on the spanking couple. Bill realised he had exhausted the
shock factor and it was time to go. Dumping Susan onto the floor, he ran. Dropping
his disguise into a bin, Bill headed back to prison where his alibi would
protect him from any investigation.
his disguise into a bin, Bill headed back to prison where his alibi would
protect him from any investigation.
In the classroom, the girls surrounded Susan,
allowing her to painfully pull up her panties and trousers. One of the
lads, Jim Dawson, spoke up.
“Miss, I hope your OK, but at least one good thing
will come out of this.”
“Oh,” sniffed Susan. “What’s that then
“Well this has been a lesson in spanking. It’s
given me some good tips to use in the school play.” Jim, one of older
students in the class had won the male lead in the school’s forthcoming
production of “Kiss Me Kate”, a play that Susan was producing.
“What!" said Jenny Tate, the female lead.
"If you think you’re doing that to me every night
for a week you can think again.”
The class laughed.