Hold-ups slinking up your legs, snapping in place at the top. Plain black bra holding you tight, nipples already swelling against its resistance. Today you are teacher - strict, stern and in control. White shirt, black pencil skirt, hair tied back. No nonsense appearance with a slash of scarlet lipstick, portentous of scarlet stripes to come. You walk downstairs to find him waiting, not quite so confident as usual. He’s u...

A few weeks after the weekend of the Open day, Fiona was taking a long, lazy breakfast with the Saturday papers. The doorbell rang, and she quickly gathered her dressing gown around her before opening the front door. The postman had her mail together with a special delivery which needed signing for. He handed over a small envelope which was marked ‘Private and Personal’. The name and address were handwritten in a clear ha...

Fiona stood up stiffly from the chair and quickly pushed her skirt down. She didn’t want to show Mr Davis any more than she already had done during the caning. Then, without either of them saying anything else, she left the study. As she walked along the corridor towards the science block, she realised that Mr Davis still had her knickers, but that was the least of her worries. What on earth would she tell her boyfriend,...

Fiona and Tim had both been looking forward to the Celwood School open day. The school only took students aged sixteen years or older. Tim had gone there to study for his university entrance exams when he was eighteen. Tim was keen to visit because he was a past pupil and Fiona because she had been excited by the stories Tim used to tell her about his school days. Fiona had most enjoyed the stories Tim had told her about...

After we got home from our weekend spa break, neither of us could put from our minds the marks that the cane had left on the girl in the room next door's bottom. I’d seen the welts in the sauna, but Ann, my girlfriend had seen them close up in the changing room showers. The next time we had sex, I imagined that I had just caned Ann and her bottom was covered in the marks. In reality, I had to satisfy myself with just span...

You open the door to me and I cross the threshold. You close the door and we embrace; you have already changed and in your heels, you are almost as tall as me. We smile at each other and my hands drift down to your lovely bottom. Still smiling, you shake your head. “Remember what I said last time? What goes around comes around.” I nod. “I do,” I remember you saying that you are a switch and if I wanted to warm your beauti...

Steering his Mercedes through morning traffic, Mark smiled at Clare. “That outfit is dynamite.” Discarded on their kitchen floor last Friday, it thrilled him she'd recycled the stunning multicolored micro skirt. Clare smiled. Woven-colored lines decorated the striking black micro skirt, demanding tall boots. Her black merino wool sweater allowed the skirt to shine. Associated with her dreadful whipping from him, it didn't...

Saturday night came and Maisie arrived to be welcomed by a smiling Ella. The two eighteen-year-olds had spoken just an hour earlier when Ella explained that Mrs L had invited her lady friend to stay over as well, and she would take part in disciplining them, which would speed things up. Ella said she called the friend Miss M, and she was younger than Mrs L, being about thirty-five years old, and was a lovely lady. Maisie...

He’d been at the company for two years but his six-monthly reviews were carried out by his line manager, Lucy Bishop. Today though, he had been called to an HR meeting with the HR manager, Sarah Lawson. Jack was thirty-one-years-old and a well thought of highflyer in the company. His sales record was superb and he was quite often seen as the go to person when more junior staff needed help. Lucy Bishop was forty-two-years-...

Clare stared hard into her bathroom mirror. Mark had punished her and the matter was closed, their remarkable relationship the positive benefit of her foolish mistake. But her outrageous attempt at career suicide ten days ago required special recognition. She'd pushed herself to reach her powerful position. Self-respect required she address her major lapse. Early in her career, she'd punished herself. Frustrated with weak...

Clare typed her address into Mark's sat-nav as he drove, his smooth Mercedes a quiet oasis for her thoughts. His tough tone and powerful strokes had driven her to a stream of incredible orgasms bent over his desk. She'd disrespected her well-earned formal punishment. Drenched in the afterglow, she'd welcomed his undeserved kindness. Eager to ride the storm of emotions he'd triggered in her, she'd invited him home for dinn...

My name is Debbie Smart. I divorced Mike three years ago, my childhood sweetheart, before becoming my spouse. We had a sexually fulfilling marriage, dominated by my obsession with the cane and Mike's love of fucking my arse. We gradually drifted apart until Mike found true love, so he told me with his nineteen-year-old trainee!! I am a thirty-five-year-old blue-eyed blond, a bisexual sex-mad nymphomaniac with a rampant co...

Incongruous in his open-plan designer appointed penthouse, Mark's morning coffee mug rested on the dark oak dining table, FMI staring at him, blatant royal blue letters on his white china mug. He doubted many employees remembered the full company name. He'd been CEO of Fisher Malate Investments since he was twenty-five, earning tens of millions in salary, bonuses, and stock options. Reinvested by FMI, his massive investme...