Welcome to Woody World

A Woody Update … Message from Mr Humphries

Over the past few weeks I have received numerous emails enquiring after the state of my health and also, due to my recent lack of activity, whether I am closing the doors to the Woody Back to School Unit … the answer to the former is that touchwood I seem to have made a remarkable recovery from my unfortunate health misadventure, largely due to successfully giving up smoking (yay me) … and thank you all so much for your kind thoughts.

The answer to the latter question is slightly more complex … the simple answer is no, the WB2SU site will continue to remain open and will be updated whenever appropriate and new material is available … I have published thirty-nine full length installments of the Woody Back to School Unit saga and am slowly but inexorably reaching the conclusion of this account of the current phase of the lives of the many characters that inhabit the correctional center for Extreme Ladettes … my problem is that as a spanking writer my style has never been simply “Get over my knee”, “Down with the bumbags”, ‘Whap! Whop! Whap!’, End of Story! … Although spanking and corporal punishment is indubitably the central theme of the saga I have always tried to involve my characters in adventures (and misadventures) and to elaborate on the back-stories of what led them to be sentenced to spend seven years at this austere government correctional institution without even the vaguest possibility of parole … However, as I near the conclusion of the tale I find it increasingly challenging to avoid becoming repetitive and not recounting old back-stories that can be found elsewhere in the saga … That being said, the publication of the most recent volume ‘Volume 39 – Big Gals Don’t Cry’ was included in the highly influential Spankings of the Week listings published by the inimitable Mr Chross which attracted a host of brand new readers … I notice from the analytical data that WordPress provides me a whole slew of new guests have elected to go back and start at ‘Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber’, and slowly work their way through the complete saga, which, of course, I think is quite wonderful … I have also noticed this phenomenon over at the quite excellent Kilahara Library of Spanking Fiction where my saga has been show-cased for some time and continuously finds new readers and fans of the Woody Gals … so welcome to all of you and I hope that you find the stories and characters engaging and entertaining and continue to read.

Equally with the Woody Toons that I have commissioned and developed in collaboration with Our Man in Phuket, the legendary wine-soak Dave Ell , they started off as an experiment, I thought I’d try out a couple but over a nearly two year period I ended up purchasing over a hundred toons … again they are mostly based upon extracts from the saga that I felt were suitable for the cartoon genre … as I progress towards the conclusion of the story I can assure you that I will continue to commission Dave for new works when there is a good story to tell.

So, in the meantime, while I continue to produce new and original writing and toons please feel free to hang around at Woodys and have a good old rummage about … there are thirty-nine full volumes of the Woody Back to School Unit saga available for download in Library I and numerous other Woody related writings and ramblings in Library II … the galleries contain over a hundred completely original toons that I have commissioned from Dave … and you know what? … the best thing about this? … Everything at Woodys is ABSOLUTELY FREE and COMMERCIAL FREE … Bottoms Up! … RH

A Belated Happy New Year and RIP Ronald Searle

My humble apologies and a belated Happy New Year to all our friends and guests … I would like to particularly thank the Legendary Mr Chross, and the Equally Legendary BrushStrokes, who were both kind enough to give the publication of the latest installment of the Woody Back to School Unit saga ‘Volume 39 – Big Gals Don’t Cry’, a mention over the festive season … thanks a lot guys … not only did the latest volume get a staggering number of downloads but according to the stats in WordPress a whole slew of new readers are starting at the beginning of the saga and are slowly working their way through my little spanking saga … so a big welcome to all of you.

On a slightly less cheerful note I was sad to learn that the great cartoonist Ronald Searle past quietly into the night … Searle was many things but first and foremost he was the originator of the wonderful St Trinians cartoons that inspired a number of movies of varying quality and certainly there are elements of the St Trinian culture lurking in the dark recesses of the Woody Back to School Unit yarns and some of the potential candidates to appear in films based upon his books and toon’s have inspired several characters in the books.

The very best source of Searle memorabilia on the web can be found at Perpetua where 4 full pages are dedicated to his immortal Trinny toons.

Any way welcome to our new guests and bon voyage to Ronnie old boy (91 actually qualifies for Old Boy status!) … Please feel free to hang about and have a good old rummage … there is plenty to look read and look at and most importantly everything at Woodys is ABSOLUTELY FREE and COMMERCIAL FREE … Bottoms Up! … RH

Loosen That Tie Girl!

I was greatly encouraged by the number of guests who stopped by and downloaded ‘Volume 39 – Big Gals Don’t Cry’, as their book of choice for a good old-fashioned Xmas spanking read … I hope you all enjoyed the latest installment of the saga.

I was also very grateful to a reader who emailed me a link to the hot new YouTube video ‘Loosen That Tie Girl!’, which apparently had reminded him of Debs Morton … In the WB2SU saga Deborah is notoriously clobber challenged and regularly slippered and caned for wearing her neckwear in a delinquent manner … I must confess that I have always had a soft spot for women wearing slightly loosened ties … I’m pretty sure that this particular predilection dates back to my youth when I would pick up my girlfriend from school and as soon as we turned the corner and she was safely out of sight J would tug down the knot of her school tie and unfasten the top button of her blouse … of course back in late-sixties/early-seventies London everybody wore school uniform and rightly or wrongly it was taken very seriously … the whole Debs thread relating to her perennial clobber abuse was inspired by her real-life persona explaining/complaining to me that she had been publicly ejected from the assembly hall in front of nearly 600 girls and subsequently caned by her Headmistress for ‘Public abuse of her school uniform’ and ‘Bringing her school into disrepute’ … amongst her heinous crimes was being spotted in her boy-friends sports car with her blazer off, her tie loosened and, worst of all, she was wearing sunglasses … Strange Days!

But back to the video … I have no idea what this song is called and for once Shazam is of no help (any ideas) … I suspect that this all has something to do with ‘Get Smart’ and absolutely nothing to do with spanking … still quite fun … so Loosen Those Ties Girls and Bottoms Up! … RH

Xmas Special – Brand Spanking New Free Woody Book

Just in time for the festive season I was able to find time to put the finishing touches to ‘Volume 39 – Big Gals Don’t Cry’, the latest installment of the Woody Back to School Unit saga … as usual, in this latest volume our cast of heroines and villainesses are up to their bumbags in their usual shenanigans and the sounds of canes, straps, slippers and sundry other instruments from the Woody artillery rebounding off tautened navy blue gossamer bumbags reverberate throughout the book.

Just a reminder that the complete collection of the thirty-nine full-length volumes that currently comprise the saga are available in Library I , absolutely FREE for download in pdf format … so if you find yourself with some time on your hands feel free to kick back and have a good old rummage.

We would just like to take the opportunity to thank you all for your support over the past year and wish a very happy festive season to you and yours … Bottoms Up! … RH and Jojo

Play the ‘Spanker’ Name Game

The recently deceased Christopher Hitchens once observed … There is almost no English surname, however ancient and dignified, that cannot be instantly improved by the prefix ‘Spanker’, … try it out … I am willing to wager that no matter what your personal predilection, top or bottom, you’ll feel a slight swelling of the chest and flutter of the heart as you roll your new name off your tongue … Bottoms Up … Spanker Humphries.

Debs Morton’s Wild Weekend – the Complete Story

Like most folks who reside in the US of A RH is recovering from the effects of a delightfully over-indulgent Thanksgiving celebrated with a plethora of family and friends … sorry I missed y’all yesterday but a belated holiday greeting anyways … due to ongoing family obligations I am in a state of great haste so I just thought I would take the opportunity to post the complete three part original Woody toon that we commissioned from the Mad Scouser from Phuket Dave Ell depicting Debs Morton engaged in a wild weekend of recreational spanking … as usual please feel free to hang around and have a good old rummage about … there are thirty eight full volumes of the Woody Back to School Unit saga available for download in Library I and numerous other Woody related writings and ramblings in Library II … the galleries contain over a hundred completely original toons that I have commissioned over the last eighteen months … and you know what? … Everything at Woodys is ABSOLUTELY FREE and COMMERCIAL FREE … Bottoms Up! … RH

Holy Smokin’ Jimjams – A Toon for the Pyjama Brigade

Today’s stunning new toon is the third installment of the series featuring Miss Deborah Morton engaged in a long weekend of recreational spanking which concludes with Debs bent over the end of her bed to allow her great chum, Miss Christy Cranfield, to deliver what is known in Woody parlance as ‘Six on the Silks’ … Unfortunately the much over-rated pastime of putting bread on the table has once again rudely intervened in my efforts to finish the story behind the picture so you will have to wait until the next volume of the Woody Back to School Unit saga is available … coming soon I promise!

As usual my thanks to the Mad Scouser from Phuket Dave Ell who went beyond the call of duty in this interpretation of my briefing … I have to run as I am in haste to open a rather appetizing bottle of merlot that awaits me on the dining room table … please feel free to hang around and have a good old rummage about … there are thirty eight full volumes of the Woody Back to School Unit saga available for download in Library I and numerous other Woody related writings and ramblings in Library II … the galleries contain over a hundred completely original toons that I have commissioned over the last eighteen months … and you know what? … Everything at Woodys is ABSOLUTELY FREE and COMMERCIAL FREE … Bottoms Up! … RH

Putting the Finishing Touches to a Damn Good Spanking

Another brief extract from the forthcoming ‘Volume 39 – Holy Smoking Bumbags’, the latest episode in the Woody Back to School Unit saga … and of course an accompanying original Woody toon delightfully rendered by Our Man in Phuket, the engagingly incorrigible Scouse refugee, Dave Ell . It’s Sunday and just the right time for a hand-mixed Bloody Mary … so kickback and enjoy the yarn and the brand spanking new toon … Bottoms Up! … RH

The Finishing Touches

Deborah hung upside down over Ms Lawton’s lap panting while the former Grand Dame rolled her bumbags back into place and turned down her skirt.

Ms Lawton had generously invited Debs to lunch with her at Monets to celebrate the confirmation Deborah had received that on the day of her release she would receive an advance cheque for a hundred thousand squids against potential sales of her magnum opus, ‘Waiting to be caned, a history of Woodys’.

Debs had been given dispensation by ‘Team Morton’ to share a delightful bottle of Dom Perignon 2000 to wash down the plump Arcachon oysters that the proprietor, Oliver, had flown in from Bordeaux each day.

Ms Lawton reached over and patted Debs on the hand, “It will be a huge seller,” Ms Lawton told her.

“I can’t imagine that anybody is likely to be much interested in parting with their hard earned squids if I get my arse spanked on the first day of Wimbledon,” said Debs dubiously.

“Deborah, you are not going to get your arse spanked at Wimbledon,” Ms Lawton said sternly. “I talked with Jane Lummell the other day, she says that she has never seen you fitter or hitting the ball so well. Considering that a few years ago you were considered to be one of the best players in the world that’s quite a compliment.”

“It wasn’t a few years ago it was seven years ago,” interjected Debs.

“Deborah if you continue to be petulant you will not have to wait until Wimbledon to have your bottom spanked,” laughed Susan Lawton. I can take care of that just as soon as we get back to the facility.”

Debs thought for a moment and then she grinned. “Is that a promise?” she asked.

Despite her elegant and refined appearance Susan Lawton was extremely fit and very strong. At school she had been an athletic cove, playing on the hockey and lacrosse teams at county level. During her years in Military Intelligence she had always passed her physicals with flying colors and even when she had retired from active duty to administrate the Woody Back to School Unit she had kept in shape.

Her hands rebounded off Deborah’s flaming buttocks with extreme prejudice. Deborah writhed and kicked and wriggled. Her head shook from side to side in agitation. She had hardly caught her breath from the first blitz attack before Susan Lawton had launched a second prolonged assault on her poor beleaguered bum.

“Now Deborah, let’s get you back in to position properly so that we can finish you off,” said Ms Lawton authoritatively.

“But I am finished Ma’am, honest I am,” wailed Debs plaintively and tried to push herself up from Ms Lawton’s knees but the former Grand Dame had a strong grip around her waist and pulled her tightly back into the crease of her lap.

“Nonsense Deborah, now let’s have your arms and legs stretched out properly and your head well down,” snorted Ms Lawton, “and then I can proceed.”

Deborah grunted unenthusiastically. Her bottom was already blazing and the idea of being ‘finished off’ was extremely unappealing. Very slowly she stretched her legs back until they were straight out and only the tips of her shoes were touching the floor. She stretched out her arms and lowered her head between the crisply starched sleeves of her white blouse. She stared bleakly down at the carpet of Ms Lawton’s apartment and waited for her to apply the finishing touches to her handiwork.

For Deborah these last few moments were the very essence of being spanked. They were through with the heart of the spanking and the heat of the battle was over. The kicking and squirming and writhing were done with. As Deborah felt herself being pulled tightly into the crease of Ms Lawton’s lap she knew that she was absolutely and thoroughly subjugated and that she was defenseless to resist. All that remained was for Ms Lawton to finish her off.

In contrast to the recent blitz attack the last twelve spanks were delivered very slowly and with great deliberation. Susan spanked alternate buttocks, making sure that every centimeter of Deborah’s red and swollen rear end was revisited one last time. Debs shoulders jerked and her toes tapped on the floor upon the arrival of each spank.

Ms Lawton straightened Deborah’s tie and then helped her on with her blazer.

“So how was it?” she asked.

“Golly ma’am it was just like old times,” Deborah grinned ruefully. “I’ll never forget the first time you put me over your knee and how you elevated my concept of being spanked to a whole new level.”

“That was a long time ago,” responded Ms Lawton.

“Yes Ma’am, but I still remember it as if it was yesterday,” chuckled Debs.

A Lesson in Spanking

“Yes Morton, how can I help you?” Ms Lawton had asked when Deborah had tapped on the door of her office.

Deborah was twenty-one at the time and had only been an inmate of the Unit for a little over two months. It was most unusual for Little Brats to pay visits to the Grand Dame’s study, especially during lecture hours.

“Ms Reed sent me up for another dusting,” Deborah responded.

Ms Lawton raised an enquiring eyebrow. “Another dusting?” she asked.

Deborah’s face reddened slightly. “Yes ma’am, Ms Reed already dusted me once but it wasn’t terribly successful,” she explained.

“In what way was it not successful?” asked the Grand Dame.

“Well it didn’t actually hurt very much and I told her so,” said Debs, “which in hindsight was probably not such a good idea.”

Ms Lawton frowned. Generally the Dames took care of their own dustings and even in extreme cases they would normally dispatch a Little Brat up to the library for an extended spanking from the Senior Brat Draper. In the four years that the unit had been open not a single brat had been sent up to the Grand Dame’s office to be dusted.

She pulled out her cell phone and called Ms Reed. They conferred for several minutes and then Ms Lawton snapped her phone closed.

Deborah was caught unawares. When Ms Lawton span back to face her she appeared quite benign and mellow, then in an instant she fixed Debs with a gimlet gaze and proceeded to serve up an extremely unsavory ration of tongue pie. Deborah was absolutely gob-smacked. Over the years she had received more than her fair share of scolding’s during her rather delinquent career but she had never heard anything quite like this. Ms Lawton barely raised her voice but by the time she was finished Deborah felt as if she had been mauled by a mountain lion. It was most disagreeable.

Deborah was almost relieved when it came time to stretch her self out into a full drape across the Grand Dames lap and to escape any further lambasting. However her relief was short lived and came to an abrupt halt when she felt Ms Lawton’s fingers in the elastic waistband of her bumbags and them being unceremoniously yanked downwards.

“Hey,” she squealed and desperately tried to reach back to retrieve them. Since arriving had the unit Deborah had been required to participate in several training spankings, she had been dusted half a dozen times in the lecture rooms, and on two occasions had been sent up to the library for extended thirty-six spank dustings from Katie Beck. All had been delivered with her bumbags firmly in-situ. Ms Lawton slapped Deborah’s hand out of the way and tucked her tightly into the crease of her lap.

They did not start immediately and Deborah hung upside down with her bottom bared feeling helpless and vulnerable as she waited to be spanked. As usual Ms Lawton started slowly and rhythmically working Debs right buttock and then her left, reddening her up from the tops of her thighs to the crown of her upturned arse. Six, twelve, eighteen, twenty-four good crisp spanks, and then it began. It was like nothing Deborah had ever experienced before. A thirty-six spank blitz attack. Spanks raining down from all directions, completely bewildering her. Deborah stamped her feet, kicked her legs, she shook her head wildly and pummeled the air with her fists.

Then it was over. Thirty-six spanks delivered in the space of barely a minute. Deborah’s backside was the color of a Caribbean sunset. She was panting at the shock of it all.

“Now Miss Morton let’s get you back into position so we can finish you off,” said Ms Lawton in her quiet voice.

Deborah felt tears welling up in her eyes. She didn’t want to be finished off, as far as she was concerned she was already more than adequately finished. She tried to say something but all that came out of her mouth was a gurgle. She buried her face in her hands and prayed to the gods.

Deborah’s face was flushed and her mouth hung a little open as she watched Ms Lawton calmly adding the spanking to her Punishment Record Book. Deborah was absolutely exhausted but the Grand Dame seemed perfectly calm and not in the least bit troubled by her recent exertions.

“I hope that was a lesson for you Miss Morton,” said Ms Lawton as she handed back the prb. “Now cut along sharpish and I hope I don’t see you here again any time soon or I’ll really feel obliged to give you something to think about.”

Deborah had tottered out of the study, wriggling and squirming. She could not believe that a hand spanking could hurt so much. Certainly her earlier dustings had been quite uncomfortable, and there was no question that Katie could spank up a storm, but nothing compared to being spanked on the bare bottom for the very first time.

Over the years Deborah would take numerous further trips over Ms Lawton’s lap but nothing would ever truly compare to the devastation she experienced when she had learned her very first lesson in the fine art of spanking.

The Finishing Touches – A Tantalizing Tease

These are the initial two drafts of the brand spanking new Woody toon ‘The Finishing Touches’ that is scheduled for publication tomorrow (Sunday) … this new toon continues the storyline that features Miss Deborah Morton engaging in a weekend of recreational spanking … as most of you will know, in recent volumes of the Woody Back to School Unit saga our gal Debs has been experiencing something of an epiphany … For a decade and a half a broad spectrum of authoritarian figures have laid siege to her tautened navy blue gossamer bumbags … over the years she has been caned, spanked, slippered, strapped, whapped with riding crops, hairbrushes, violin bows and a variety of kitchen utensils … She has been forced to bend over chairs, desks, tables, beds, piano stools, and has spent more time head down, arse up across the laps of various Dames and prefects than she cares to remember … On one memorable occasion she even suffered the ignominy of being bent over the edge of a fountain in the center of the recreation area so that she could have her bumbags warmed with a slipper … Deborah Morton has never doubted that she has a hyper-active naughty gene but, historically, she had always jokingly blamed her alter-ego, who she refers to as the Imposter, for her misfortunes … however, in recent months it has occurred to Debs that it is not the imaginary Imposter that is responsible for the lamentable fate of her poor beleaguered bumbags but it is her own inner spankette that craves the endorphin rush of creating mischief and then suffering the painful consequences … never known as a shrinking violet, once Debs acknowledges her inner desires she is soon up to her bumbags in whops of both a disciplinary and recreational nature.

I rather like the concept of putting the finishing touches to a spanking … the game is almost over, your spankette is lying bare bottomed across your lap, panting and exhausted from the dizzying blitz on her sitmedown, you have been through the heart of the spanking, and now there is nothing left but the slow, methodical application of those last few spanks … when I publish the final rendition of this wonderful toon, as usual lovingly prepared for me by my collaborator, the internationally renowned wine-skin Dave Ell it will be accompanied by an original extract from the soon to be completed ‘Volume 39 – Holy Smoking Bumbags’.

In the meantime any new visitors that have resulted from last Thursday’s Love our Lurkers 6 celebration please feel free to stay around and have a good old rummage … there are thirty eight full volumes of the saga in Library I and numerous other Woody related writings in Library II … the galleries contain over a hundred completely original toons that I have commissioned over the last eighteen months … and you know what? … Everything at Woodys is ABSOLUTELY FREE and COMMERCIAL FREE … it’s Saturday afternoon, so kickback and pour a glass of unoaked chardonnay (the Naked Grape 2010 is a current favorite) and enjoy! … Bottoms Up! … RH

A Woody Welcome to Love Our Lurkers Day 6

As usual a warm welcome to all our guests and on this special annual ‘Love our Lurkers Day 6’ an open invitation to all of you to feel free to leave comments, questions, suggestions or criticisms (well not too much of the latter … lol) regarding the Woody Back to School Unit saga or any associated spanking themes … if you do not feel comfortable commenting on the page you can always contact us directly at Woodettes@gmail.com .

Our thanks to Bonnie of My Bottom Smarts fame for organizing and encouraging this community event … please take the opportunity to visit with us … RH doesn’t bite but My Beloved Jojo assures me that I do whop good and hard … Bottoms Up! … RH

Spanking Roulette – Crazy Talk … Brand Spanking New Words and Toon

Finally home after what seemed like endless travelling … I had hoped to find the time to complete ‘Volume 39 – Holy Smoking Bumbags’ while I was away but unfortunately that particular plan was thwarted by the gods of work … however I did manage to crank out a few chapters that I though worthy of turning into a new toon series … it will take three toons to tell the full story of Debs Morton’s hot and sweaty weekend of recreational spanking … for the full color toon featured below to make much sense I strongly advise that you take a few minutes to read the brief chapters below.

Once again my appreciation to Dave Ell for another fine interpretation of my briefing … I hope you enjoy the little yarn and the accompanying toon … Bottoms Up! … RH

Spanking Roulette

“No! No! No!” Debs squealed, “I was only joking! A triple dangling? That’s crazy talk!”

As was customary after the feast, Deborah had repaired to the library with her good chums Spanky Botts, Christy Cranfield and Lady Derby Huntington to engage in some recreational spanking.

Earlier in the day Spanky had been telling Debs about a recent charitable event that she had hosted at Café Woodys where the members had engaged in a game of spanking roulette. The rules had been simple enough, every number of the wheel had been assigned a specific punishment and any guest who wished to participate merely span the wheel and let Lady Luck dictate which of the upstairs discipline salons that they would visit.

Debs had studied the list of punishments. “You should have assigned a triple dangling to number thirty-six,” she’d chuckled.

Spanky had brought her roulette wheel to the library. Spanky, Christy and Derby had taken it in turns to spin the wheel to discover how Deborah would punish them.

Spanky took a trip across Deborah’s knee for a twelve-stroke spanking with the lethal leather ping-pong paddle. Christy Cranfield spent some quality time bent over the back of a sofa while Debs gave her a flurry of nine whacks with the reform school strap, and Derby went head down, arse up for a larruping with the two-tailed tawse.

Generally the evenings ended with Debs being escorted back to the Elite landing where she would change in to her red and black striped jimjams and bend over the end of her bed. Christy Cranfield would then proceed to give Deborah six on the silks with a rattan cane to conclude the night’s festivities. However, Debs decided that on this particular evening she would take her chances with the wheel of fortune.

The silver ball clattered around until finally finding a secure spot in the number thirty-six slot. Spanky handed Deborah the appropriate punishment card. Debs eyes nearly popped out of her head.

Deborah unfastened the five buttons down the front of her black blazer and hung it up. She unfastened the cuffs of her red shirt and loosened her collar and tie. She watched Christy hop up onto the spanking stool and went and stood beside her. With considerable trepidation Debs tip-toed up and leaned forward, slithering her chest across Christy’s lap and waited to be hoisted over and up. The height of the spanking stool made being maneuvered into the time-honored position an inelegant and ungainly process but with Christy’s assistance Deborah’s feet soon left the floor and she hung upside down across her chums lap in the rather disquieting pose known to the Woody Wags as being dangled.

Once she was over and up Deborah couldn’t reach the floor on either side. She knew from experience that once they got going and she was wriggling and jiggling she would be completely reliant on Christy to keep a tight hold on her and stopping her from taking a tumble. She pursed her lips and stared down at the wooden floor while Christy slowly folded back the hem of her pleated black skirt. She felt her chum’s fingers in the elastic waistband of her bumbags and her bottom being bared.

She ran her tongue along her lips. Deborah could sense Spanky and Derby somewhere in the shadows but they were out of her line of vision. She pursed and unpursed her lips. Her mind was racing. She had been in this position more times than she cared to remember. Finally over and up with bottom bared with nothing left to think about than the impending pain that was about to ignite in her rear end. She knew the script, Christy would leave her in this somewhat ignominious state for at least sixty seconds before she would begin to spank. Deborah stared into the flickering fire burning in the hearth. Sixty seconds could seem like an inordinately long time when bent like a bow with arms and legs dangling and your bare butt on display.

Finally she felt the once familiar wooden hairbrush being circled over her right buttock.

“I have to be certifiably barking,” she told herself. She could hardly believe that having just witnessed the after-effects of Rosemary’s recent encounter with a wood-backed hairbrush that she had conceded to the dictates of Lady Luck and allowed herself to be subjected to a dreaded triple dangling. She closed her eyes and prayed to Buddha.

Deborah blinked as the oval headed, wood-backed hairbrush collided with the naked flesh of her right buttock with a resounding crack. In fairness to Christy she was not putting her arm into it with quite the vigor that she might have demonstrated during a punishment dangling or even with the ruthlessness that Patsy had shown not an hour earlier. Nonetheless, even with an abbreviated backswing an unyielding hairbrush slapping down on naked flesh was extremely effective.

By the time they were twelve spanks in Debs was beginning to perspire profusely and her backside was already a bright scarlet.

Spanked Until She Squeaked

Due to the extended number of spanks that were scheduled Christy was spanking Debs at a relatively brisk pace of six spanks a minute. After the second dozen spanks Debs was beginning to wriggle and squirm and emit low heart-felt groans as each spank landed.

After twenty-four spanks had ricocheted off Deborah’s naked nates they took a short breather. Christy pulled Deborah in tightly and gently pushed her red shirt a little further up her back.

Deborah stared down at the floor. Her backside was burning ferociously. She knew that in a short while, when they were finished and her mind stopped processing the sensation as pain the effects of the spanking would be truly delicious, but the prospect of another twelve spanks was almost too ghastly to contemplate.

She ran her fingers through her hair, and then rubbed her eyes with clenched fists. She felt the brush circling her right cheek again and she slumped forward, her head down and her arms outstretched. She sensed Christy pulling her arm back and priming herself. Deborah braced herself.

“No! No! No!” squealed Debs as she kicked her legs in agitation. “That smarts too much!”

Christy Cranfield put her left arm around Deborah’s waist and tucked her tightly in to the crease of her lap. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” said Christy. “Just six more and we’re done.” She rubbed the face of the oval headed, wood backed hairbrush over the scarlet swollen flesh and then pulled her arm back and brought it down swiping.

Debs jerked and gyrated, kicked her legs and punched the air with her fists as the brush slapped down.

“Holy Moley,” she howled. Her backside was burning so furiously she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“Oh! Oh! Oh!” gasped Debs. She was jogging on the spot, rubbing the seat of her bumbags furiously. “Holy shit Christy you spanked me until I fucking squeaked.”

Lady Derby hurried over and offered Debs a glass of icy bubbles. “That was awesome Ma’am,” gushed Derby. “You looked fantastic!”

Deborah gaped at her grubby. She slowed down and stopped jogging; just raising each leg in turn and bending them back at the knee. She quit rubbing with her right hand and reached over for a flute of bubbles.

“I looked fantastic?” she asked slowly.

Derby nodded earnestly. “You were awe-inspiring, Ma’am.” Debs just shook her head in bewilderment. She had long harbored a suspicion that if the aristocrat was not serving time at the Woody Back to School Unit that she might well be cooling her heels in a loony bin.

Deborah gulped down the glass of champagne and scrounged a fag from her grubby. She took a deep drag and blew smoke out of her nostrils.

“Awwwww man!” she groaned, “That was not fucking funny. Not fucking funny in the least bit.”

Christy reached over and hugged her. “I tried to keep the temperature down a bit but once that brush had made you good and red then it was all bound to go downhill in a heartbeat.”

“I’m telling you I was very close to being good, red and howling,” said Debs emphatically. “One more spank and I think I would have brought the house down.” She reached back and rubbed again. “Jeez my bum is so swollen I can feel the seams of my bumbags straining.”

Lady Derby poured Debs another glass of bubbles. “Would you like me to cut along and turn your bed down, Ma’am?” she asked. “Perhaps I should knock on Miss Booker’s door and get some of that new peppermint balm she’s been working on. It kind of tingles when it’s being applied but it really cools you down.”

Deborah smiled. “Thanks Derby that won’t be necessary. I’m sure Rosie is on-line showing off her well-spanked bum to the Silver Fox. I’ll be okay. I’ll cool down naturally. It’s more fun that way. Now why don’t we all turn in? I for one am cream crackered.”

Debs stared at her bottom in the bathroom mirror; it was the color of a Caribbean sunset; with some slight purple bruising that was inevitable from an extended session with a hard unyielding hairbrush. She ran her fingers lightly across the swelling, although the flesh was sore and tender she no longer registered it as pain. The memory of hanging upside down, helpless and defenseless across Christy’s lap played over and over in her head in a perpetual loop. She pulled up her jimjams and padded back into her small living room. She picked up the glass of bubbles that she had brought from the library and was about to go to the bedroom when there was a tap on the door. It was Christy.

“Derby’s gone down to the dorm and Spanky’s popped over to see Cat Cassidy so I thought I would stop by and check-up on you,” she told Debs.

Deborah smiled. “Oh wow,” she laughed, “That gives me such a feeling of déjà vu. Remember back at Queensgate how you’d damn near beat me out of my bumbags and then sneak up to my study to comfort me?”

Christy Cranfield popped a bottle of bubbly she had secured from the Bounder on her way up to the landing and poured herself a glass.

“Yes I remember,” she told Debs. “Those were definitely strange days, being forced to heat you up and then desperately trying to cool you down.”

Deborah raised her glass and toasted her chum. “I’ve learned a lot from you Miss Christy Cranfield.”

Things we do in Airplanes and Hotel Rooms

I often lament my lack of graphic talent, but I have recently spent an inordinate amount of time on airplanes and in hotels with considerable time on my hands, so armed with nothing more than an iPad, a stylus and some free apps I decided that it was time to correct this unfortunate state of artistic affairs … I started out by selecting an iconic photographic image from my database … the lady featured in this great artistic experiment went under the name of Nicola Redway back in the day and starred in the photo-story’s ’Teachers Pets’ in Janus 23 and ’Nicola and Priscilla – The Epilogue’ in Janus 46 along with her bubbly side-kick Priscilla Waters … the classic results of these two photo-shoots are probably the most re-posted spanking pictures anywhere on the internet … subsequently Nicola featured in a solo spread ’Nicola Redway – BSc’ in Janus 68 … I often wonder what happened to her as to the best of my knowledge she disappeared from the spanking scene following that third shoot … the next step in my great art experiment involved messing around with the photo so that it vaguely looked like I might have sketched it from scratch (I use the term vaguely rather loosely), and then I added a touch of color … finally with positively Warholian vision I converted the freshly prepared sketches into silk screens … I have absolutely no idea why I chose to embark upon this experiment and even less idea why I have felt compelled to share the results with the outside world … clearly I will not be giving up my day job and moving to Montmartre to starve in a garret for my art any time soon! … However, more productively I did write several new chapters of Volume 39 of the Woody Back to School saga and am hopeful that I might finally get it finished while I am away on my travels … am now off in pursuit of some amber nectar but please feel free to hang about and have a good old rummage around the libraries and galleries (I promise you that there are no further exhibits of my own artwork to be found hanging in the galleries) … there’s lots to read and see and best of all everything is ABSOLUTELY FREE and COMMERCIAL FREE … so kick-back and enjoy! … Bottoms Up! … RH

The Wart’s Comeuppance – the ReDux Version

When responding to some Woody related questions from a guest I noticed some minor typographical and formatting glitches in the previously posted version of ’The Wart’s Comeuppance’ posted in Library II and have corrected them and reposted the book back in to the library … this was always a yarn that I was rather fond of, as I feel that it represents all the good/bad of the characters that I write about in the Woody Back to School Unit saga … the mercurial Debs and her good chum Patsy who is initially required to damn near beat her out of her bumbags, and in contrast the odious Wart right in the thick of things directing  operations and the gleefully nefarious Katie Beck standing on the side-lines, as I say I had rather too much fun or too much wine writing this little tale … I noticed that on my page over at the brilliant Kilahara of Spanking Literature it is one of my most read stories … of course I turned it into a pair of toons beautifully rendered by our old rogue, Man of Fine Art and general wine-skin at large Dave Ell that I thought that they were worthy of reproduction … so if you haven’t read the story before feel free to download it in printable pdf format over at the library because guess what … everything at Woodys is ABSOLUTELY FREE and COMMERCIAL FREE… so kick-back and enjoy! … Bottoms Up! … RH

Good News and More Good News and Two Red Bum Awards

Our belated congratulations to the esteemed and venerable blogger Ms Bonnie Burns for her remarkable achievement of maintaining the awesome My Bottom Smarts blog for six years … not only is Bonnie a great writer in her own right but she also host’s the always interesting MBS Sunday brunches; routinely introduces the community to new bloggers, and maintains one of the most comprehensive blog rolls on the net … a few years ago the Woody Back to School Unit presented Bonnie with a Five Red Bums award for her services to the spanking community and today I am delighted to present her a second award with a prestigious sixth red bum added … way to go Ms Burns … oh and by the way, an also belated Happy B’day.

Yesterday I drafted a post bemoaning the difficulties that Miss Pink was encountering and drumming up support for the Free Barely Pink Report campaign, however I never got around to putting it up and am now very pleased to learn that it is now redundant and that she now has control of her domain and will be back in action shortly … keep your eyes peeled for her new home …. As part of that post I had planned on presenting Miss Pink a Five Red Bums award in recognition of her wit, articulation, and general pinkdom and see no reason not to proceed with said plan … so here ya go and welcome back Ma’am.

RH is about to embark on another month of travel so that may or may not give me more opportunity to blog and to finish Volume 39 of the Woody Back to School Unit saga … any way there is lots to read and see here in the libraries and galleries and best of all everything is ABSOLUTELY FREE and COMMERCIAL FREE … I’m way overdue for a Bloody Mary so why don’t you kick back, have a good old rummage and enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH

A Charity Spanking Spectacular

This latest toon in the ‘Every Picture Tells a Story’ series features two famous Ma’s spanking the bare bottom’s of their two famous daughters at a charity spank-off event … when I was writing this briefing I was worried that I had added to many characters and that it might all get too busy but when I saw the results produced by Our Man in Phuket, Dave Ell I was absolutely flabbergasted … not only had he managed to include all the many elements and aspects of the story-line but had kept it clean and uncluttered … absolutely marvelous job … now I will just have to write the story and find somewhere to include it in one of the final volumes of the Woody Back to School Unit saga … its Saturday … pour yourself a Bloody Mary and kick-back and enjoy this spanking masterpiece … Bottoms Up! … RH

A Tantalizing Toon Tease

These are two drafts of the brand spanking new Woody toon ‘Tale of Two Ma’s’ that is scheduled for publication tomorrow (Saturday) … I was very flattered by the generous responses I received to the short story Zinged that features our hapless heroine, Debs Morton, taking a trip over her mother’s knee for a very sound bare bottom spanking with a long-handled, oval-headed, wood-backed hairbrush which obviously struck a chord with many of our guests so I got to doodling and noodling a new toon briefing featuring Debs getting spanked by Ma … several previous toon’s have already encompassed this theme so I wanted to put a whole new spin of the subject.

In the books that comprise the Woody Back to School Unit saga Ma Brooks, the mother of Claire, is an avid spokesperson for the pro-spanking movement and is regularly seen on talk shows preaching her mantra ‘there’s no problem that can’t be solved by a sore bottom’, so who better to participate in a charity spank-off against Ma Morton?

I think these two tantalizing teasers give you some idea of things to come so check back tomorrow to view the final gorgeous results of Dave Ell’s artwork that may well be destined to become a classic … so until tomorrow my friends, kick-back and enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH

Appreciation

My heartfelt thanks to Prefectdt who featured us in his highly respected ‘Saturday Swishing’ post and said some rather nice things about our site … also as usual our appreciation to Chross for featuring our ‘Husband and Wife’ toon in his weekly round-up of all things spanking … interestingly I have received numerous requests to draw toons for my guests … just for the record … I cannot draw the curtains … I dream up the toons, write the briefings and then pay Dave Ell, a Scouser living in Phuket (how scary is that?) hard-earneds to bring my stories to life … not a bad arrangement but don’t be asking me to draw for you … you’ll hate the results and the demands for payment! .

Also another thank you to all the commenters over at the Kilahara Library of Spanking Fiction … I have received quite a lot of comments regarding the Debs Morton story I recently featured called ‘Zinged’ … they were all very, very kind and encouraging … thank y’all and peace in our time my friends … Bottoms Up! … RH

Zinged – A Debs Morton Short Story

A few weeks ago I posted a short story called ‘Zinged’ … I originally thought that this episode involving Debs Morton being spanked by Ma might fit into the upcoming new book … but I’ve now concluded that it probably doesn’t weave well into the narrative fabric so I have formatted the story, put a cover on it and posted it over in Library II Zinged – Debs Morton Short Story.

For those of you interested in the language of spanking the word ‘zing’ has an interesting provenance … many years ago I met with the real-life Nixdown Nixon for evening cocktails … at the time she was in a relationship with Penny Ann and she liked to regale me with tales of their spanking exploits … on this particular evening she was returning from a hard day’s play at her lover’s apartment … I asked her how it had gone and she told me, “It was great until she fucking zinged me,” … I confessed that I was not familiar with the term and she explained that they had been indulging in an over the knee session involving naked flesh and a wood-backed hairbrush … apparently at some point Nixdown thought they had finished and was waiting to be released when Pen took her by surprise, putting her hand on the back of Nix’s neck, pushing her nose towards the floor and causing her bottom to be thrust upwards and then proceeded to slam the brush down three times in quick succession on exactly the same spot … for some reason Nixdown did not consider this very sporting! … Anyway I loved the expression and have been writing it into my books ever since … so kick back and enjoy this very brief yarn … Bottoms Up! … RH.

Husband and Wife – A Brand Spanking New Woody Toon

In some strata’s of society featuring your wife as a central character in spanking stories and cartoons might seem a tad queer, but fortunately I do not inhabit such unenlightened social stratospheres and consequentially found it perfectly natural to commission Woody Toon 100 as a tribute to my beautiful wife and muse, My Beloved Jojo.

As usual Our Man in Phuket Dave Ell has done a bang-up job on creating another colorful and vibrant interpretation of my latest brief … regarding the bottom-most caption … just don’t ask … it’s an insider joke … hope you enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH.

Spanking … the Rituals

RH has been unusually quiet of late due to business and family commitments … however I do like to keep up with current affairs so I routinely manage to find the time to take a quick gander at the weekly round-up posted by the mighty Chross … a few weeks ago he included a link to delightful post authored by the articulate and entertaining bloggess Emma Jane Woodhouse, over at A Painful Awakening , discussing the importance of rituals in her spanking life and fantasies … as a refugee from the Last Great Caning Generation the rituals surrounding corporal punishment have always held a huge fascination for me and have always been an inspiration in my writing … I wrote about this subject some years ago in the post “Remove Your Blazer” and Other Punishment Rituals … the Woody Back to School Unit saga is riddled with rituals ranging from the gals being shown red cards, clobber and bum inspections, public floggings, formal house beatings, and the strange ritual known as being ‘Thrashed into the Elite’ … in honor of Labor Day I have featured a selection of Woody Toons featuring various rituals that form an everyday part of life for the inmates of the Woody Back to School Unit.

RH is currently working on the latest volume of the Woody Back to School Unit saga and hopefully it will be available shortly … in the meantime a gentle reminder that Library I contains 38 Full Length Books featuring the trials and tribulations of the poor beleaguered bums of the inmates of the Back to School Unit and feature more rituals than you can shake a stick at … the books are all available for download in pdf format and best of all they are all ABSOLUTELY FREE … for all our stateside guests enjoy the rest of Labor Day … why don’t y’all kick back and enjoy some unsalted pistachios washed down with a fine chilled and unwooded Chardonnay … enjoy the toons, there are tons more over in the galleries and did I say before? … they are also ABSOLUTELY FREE  … Bottoms Up! … RH.

A Spanking Good Constellation!!!

Woodys meets Janus meets Dave Ell … I don’t generally promote commercial sites … not because I have anything against them but because I get inundated to add links to sites that sometimes appear to have a dubious provenance and I really have no time to check them out … nonetheless I think of Janus with such great affection that I am happy to display these two original toons that they commissioned from my old mucker Dave Ell to promote their work-in-progress web-site Janus Worldwide … on a non-related matter but equally newsworthy issue … apparently the brilliant, articulate and very funny blog-mistress Miss Pink got miffed at the restrictive policies of her hosting company and decided to establish a new domain for her hugely popular site ’The Pink Report’ so make sure you update your links … she’s far too good to miss … anyway it’s Monday and I am attempting to recover from a somewhat bacchanalian evening so I shall leave you to savor these two original toons … enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH

Good, Red and Howling – The Brand Spanking New Toon!

A few weeks ago I recounted a remarkable vanilla nugget that I had recently overheard when a young Texan barmaid loudly informed her chums that her mother used to put her over her knee and spank her with a hairbrush until she was … Good, Red and Howlin’ … I just thought that the expression was delicious, especially when delivered in a Texan drawl … of course I immediately began thinking about how I might be able to weave the phrase into a Woody yarn … however, frustratingly, the phrase seems so typically Texan that it doesn’t really suit the natural vernacular of the quintessentially British Woody gals … but then I had a stroke of genius .. Huh! Ha!! I thought to myself, Eureka! … African Grey parrots suffer from no such linguistic boundaries or limitations so I decided that it was clearly time for the reintroduction of our old friend Cedric, the depraved and spank-obsessed bird who is occasionally left in the care and custody of the Woody Back to School Unit by his owner Miss Spanky Botts, into the fray and cranked out a briefing to my old mucker and collaborator Dave Ell to compliment our growing collection of the one-frame ‘Every Picture Tells a Story’ series.

The toon is loosely based around an episode from ’Volume 10 – The Grand Finale’ when the mercurial Debs Morton stretches the patience of Lady Victoria Brompton to its limits … in return for her potty-mouthed display of insolence and belligerence Deborah finds herself hauled off to the punishment room for an unprecedented thirty-six spank, bare bottom, bum burning with the ceremonial long-handled, oval-headed, wood-backed Red-shirt ceremonial hairbrush in front of several members of the Elite … the toon is not exactly faithful to the story as several of the characters were not actually present at the incident … nonetheless I wanted to feature some of my favorite characters in this larger format … so please enjoy and then stay around and have a good old rummage about in the libraries and galleries, there’s plenty to read and see and best of all … it’s all ABSOLUTELY FREE and even better it’s Commercial Free … it’s Thursday evening so I am having it on my toes to test out some fine Chardonnays … Bottoms Up! … RH

Welcome Back to an Old Friend

A short time ago international spanko’s received the devastating news that fiscal considerations had forced the closure of the legendary Old Compton Street HQ of Janus magazine … as I have mentioned in several earlier posts ( Early Awakenings and Soho, London, Circa 1972-1975 ) Janus played a significant role in RH’s spanko development … it show-cased some great writing by authors such as Alex Birch (RIP) and R.T. Mason, illustration’s by Lynn Paula Russell and George Jackson Churchward, was briefly edited by the legendary George Harrison Marks, and featured some of my all-time favorite photo shoots including ‘Teachers Pets’, ‘Nicola and Priscilla – the Epilogue’, ‘Punishing Penelope’, ‘Burning Injustice’ and ‘A Lesson for Lindy’, to name but a few … heady days!

Now the good news … Janus is reopening its doors on-line and is currently collecting together some of the great older editions of the magazine to digitize and make available for download, seeking out some of their former models to interview, maybe even converting some of those old super-8 movies to new mediums … to celebrate their opening at Janus Worldwide they commissioned my Woody collaborator Dave Ell to draw a couple of toons for them which can be found on their welcome page , go take a gander and of course notice that Dave included a couple of Woody characters in the toons … the site is very much a work under construction but hopefully it will be up and running and fully functional in the near future … good luck and welcome back to Janus.

My apologies to our regular guests for the lack of recent updates but I have diligently been slogging away at completing Volume 39 of the Woody Back to School Unit saga, which has the loose working title of ‘Holy Smoking Bumbags’ … hopefully I will have the new book completed and ready for release shortly … unfortunately time is a trade-off … write the books or update the blog? … currently book writing wins out … however, I did take the time to draft a briefing for a brand spanking new Woody toon so that will be available this coming week … in the meantime why don’t you take the time and have a good old rummage about in the libraries and galleries, there’s plenty to read and see and best of all … it’s all ABSOLUTELY FREE and even better it’s Commercial Free … it’s Sunday so pour yourself a mimosa or a Bloody Mary and kick-back … Enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH

Good, Red and Howlin’!

Vanilla nuggets are often the best source of inspiration… RH was recently enjoying a leisurely lunch in a local hostelry when one of the off-duty wait-staff arrived with young son in tow to be admired … they took up residence a few stools away from me and my cronies and many of the staff pitched up to praise and admire the young man and he was soon surrounded by a gaggle of young ladies … they were by no means quiet … somewhere along the line the question of disciplining the child came up and our regular barmaid, who is a gregarious twenty-three year old Texan, interjected that her Mom used to “put me over her knee and spank me with a hairbrush until I was good, red and howlin’!” … this colorful observation nearly caused me to choke on my drink but even more was to come … I think that most of the young ladies involved in this discussion are either native Texans or from other Southern states where apparently Mothers rule the roost and spanking still seems to be a routine part of daily life … every one of these ladies loudly confessed to having been spanked for youthful indiscretions with a wide variety of instruments ranging from belts and switches to razor straps … the interesting thing was that they all seemed to find this hilarious and were almost boasting about which of them had been spanked the most and hardest … needless to say RH was greatly entertained … moral of the tale … always keep your ears pricked for the vanilla nuggets … Bottoms Up! … RH

Woodys Hosts Our One-Millionth Guest

A few moments ago the Woody Back to School Unit welcomed our One-Millionth guest!!!

We would like to thank every one of you who has taken the time to stop by and have a good old rummage about the various libraries and galleries we hope that you have had a lot of fun … over the past couple of years we have published nearly 40 full length original books that comprise the VERY nearly completed Woody Back to School Unit saga and have commissioned nearly 100 original cartoons to compliment the stories and … Guess What? … they are ALL ABSOLUTELY FREE and even better this site is Totally Commercial Free!

We would like to acknowledge all the fabulous people in the blogging community for the help and acknowledgement that they have given us along the way … hopefully our lists and acknowledgements in the side bars of this page captures everybody! … Once again … Thanks a Million … Enjoy … Lots of Luv … Jojo and Mr Humphries.

Brand Spanking New Woody Toon – Bend Over and Touch Them

Earlier in the week I featured the pencil draft of this new toon as a tantalizing tease … in the top left of this post is the second draft comprised of the inked version, and at the foot of the post is the final toon fully colored and including the captions … this recent series of toons has a loose working theme of ‘Every Picture Tells a Story’ as they are designed to tell the same story several ways inside a single frame depending on the perspective of the various characters.

Whether it’s poor old Debs Morton, who is on the receiving end … Yvonne Godfrey who is delivering the whopping … or the various observers … they each have a unique view of the events transpiring upstairs in the infamous punishment room at the Woody Back to School Unit.

For anybody unfamiliar with the characters from the Woody Back to School Unit saga … Yvonne Godfrey was the evil Commandant of the heinous Secret Sorority of Serial Spankers during the dark era of Operation Scorched Arse … behind her the gal with the dark hair, slapping her cane against her hand and gleefully waiting to get some whops in was Yvonne’s first lieutenant Janet Mitchell, aka ‘Mitch the Bitch’, a revolting specimen of humanity who revels in the misfortune of others … and finally the two women watching are, of course, two luminaries of the Radical Right … seated to the bottom right is Ms Robin Wharton, better known as ‘The Wart’, an odious and rotten tequila-swilling individual … and to the left, showing off her crown jewels, is the cruel but somewhat beguiling Katie Beck, the Unit Matron … if you would like to read more about these fascinating creatures cut along sharpish to Library I where there are 38 Full Length Books featuring the full cast of the Woody Back to School Unit saga available for download in pdf format ABSOLUTELY FREE.

As usual I think Our Man in Phuket Dave Ell has done a wonderful job of interpreting the latest brief and depicting the many back-stories going on in the illustration … so well done to Dave … Enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH

Bend Over and Touch Them – A Tantalizing Toon Tease

The vocabulary of spanking has always been an endless source of fascination for me and being a Brit of a certain age I was brought up immersed in the language of the last great cane culture … It would be unimaginable in today’s politically correct society to be spontaneously instructed to ‘bend over and touch them’ for the sole purpose of having your arse whapped with a thirty-six inch rattan cane … but it was only a few(ish) decades ago that I witnessed just such a spectacle when a rather unfortunate acquaintance was forced to bend over in the middle of a busy thoroughfare and given three strokes of the cane in front of a rather startled audience … unfortunately this was not a member of the fairer sex getting caned, which would have made it incredibly titillating, but nonetheless the pure authoritarian majesty of the phrase ‘bend over and touch them’ was instantly and indelibly ingrained into my spanko memory-bank.

What made that whole late 1960’s/early 1970’s caning era so amazing was that I attended a school populated by a fair percentage of yobos, yahoos, and thugs … the lad who was on the receiving end of the ignominious caning was no shrinking violet when it came to pitching up for scrap or engaging in a touch of anarchic arson … nonetheless, even though at the time the intoxicating scent of revolution and rebellion was in the air, I doubt it ever entered the fellow’s head to do anything other than bend over when so ordered … Strange Days in the words of the sainted Mr Mojo Rising.

Speaking of strange days … today’s totally original never seen before graphic is an early pencil draft of our upcoming brand spanking new Woody Toon … I have been trying to challenge Our Man in Phuket and Legend in his Own Lunch-hour Dave Ell , (he is a Scouser and loves accolades so I have to caress his sensibilities), with the one panel – ‘Every Picture Tells a Story’ theme … I think that once this has been inked, colored and ballooned we might have another classic on our hands … take a gander and if ya like what you see stay around and have a good old rummage about in the libraries and galleries, there’s plenty to read and see and best of all … it’s ABSOLUTELY FREE and even better it’s all Commercial Free … Enjoy …. Bottoms Up! … RH

Dave Ell – A Legend in his Own Lunchtime – Plus a New Sammy Toon

I first got in contact with the illustrator Dave Ell in September of 2009 after seeing the work he had performed for the now retired model and blogger, Emma Bishop … I was impressed and a quick Google revealed that he had produced a fairly extensive portfolio of spanking related toons including his own Sammy Simpkins series … I also learned that he was an artist for hire.

Over the years I had developed a pretty strong mental image of the characters from the Woody Back to School Unit saga and had often wished that my artistic tendencies extended to drawing but sadly those particular talents are right up there with my singing, which is abysmal … so I contacted Dave.

He responded quickly with his schedule of rates which I thought were quite reasonable … what was far more alarming was the information that he was a Scouser living in Phuket in Thailand … being a natural born Londoner this threw up two enormous red flags for me … firstly it is well known that dealing with Scouser’s can be a very dodgy proposition … I had personal experience when, some years ago (1971 to be exact … shows my age), I was leaving Wembley Stadium after the Arsenal versus Liverpool FA Cup final when I was surrounded by a group of disgruntled Scousers, Liverpool had lost 2-1 after extra-time … due to a recent piece of financial good fortune I had been able to acquire a pair of crepe soled shoes with ox-blood leather uppers and massive clown toes … these shoes were the bomb … anyway the lead Scouser informed me that he liked my shoes and after duly thanking him I attempted to hurry on my way … they rather rudely stopped me … “No,” said the leading Scouser, “you don’t understand I REALLY like your shoes!” … I have had an inherent distrust of Scouser’s ever since … the second alarm bell was his choice of residence … generally Scouser’s don’t travel well and the only time they like to be more than a mile from Anfield is when they have been forced to have it on their toes from Plod for dodgy dealings.

Nonetheless, I put these concerns to one side (even sending him an advance payment) and sat down and drafted out my first ever cartoon briefing … the first toon was not a story per se but an attempt to establish some of the central characters and set a bit of context … despite my reservations Dave delivered promptly and had followed the script … I decided to risk another punt and sent him second briefing … this time with a story-line … once again he delivered and we’ve been at it ever since.

The complete collection of our toons to date are hanging in Gallery I and some extracts and various odds and sods hang in Gallery II.

I think that it’s pretty obvious which are the earlier works when I was still learning how to write briefs (Rule Number One – limit the dialogue! It’s a toon stoopid!) and Dave was still learning the characters … once we both got confident in our own role in the relationship and I began to trust that he wasn’t about to steal my shoes it really began to come together and I think we are both pretty proud of the body of work and hopefully he has enjoyed the experience of collaborating with me as much as I have with him.

I am about to send Dave my latest briefing so we should have a new Woody toon out this week but in the meantime here is Dave’s latest Sammy toon … it’s Saturday so join me for Bloody Mary’s for brunch and have a good old rummage around in the libraries and galleries, there’s plenty to read and see and best of all … it’s ABSOLUTELY FREE and even better its all Commercial Free … Enjoy …. Bottoms Up! … RH

Holy Smoking Bumbags … Debs Gets Spanked by Ma!

While vacationing with My Beloved Jojo I am taking the opportunity to consider my strategy for finally completing the Woody Back to School Unit saga … I recently posted ‘Volume 38 –Mischief and Mayhem’, ABSOLUTELY FREE for download in Library I and had started to map out the skeleton of two further volumes that I thought might conclude the saga … unfortunately I am now coming to the conclusion that I will really have to finish up with at least three more books, so I have started drafting Volume 39 with the loose working title of ‘Holy Smoking Bumbags’ … that might change … whoever knows? … I can’t really predict how long this process will take but will keep you apprised of progress.

One of the chapters that I am currently finding a home for features poor old Debs Morton taking another trip across her mother’s knee and I thought that I would post it today until I can find a suitable spot in one of the upcoming volumes … I rather enjoy writing the Debs/Ma Morton relationship as it gives a slightly different spin on the tough-as-nails/blow-hard Debs who resides at the Back to School Unit … as I have explained many times the Debs character was originally based on a spanking I heard my best chums sister Debbie receiving, which at the time I assumed was a one off event … it was nearly thirty years later when I happened to be dining with the two protagonists in that original spanking and we were discussing the juvenile antics of Debbie’s far more (at least so I assumed) delinquent brother that I learned from her mother, in a wonderful vanilla nugget, “but it was always Debbie who needed to be spanked,” … far from being fazed or embarrassed by this comment Debbie merely giggled and told her mother that she hadn’t turned out too badly … the warm smile that they exchanged was quite wonderful and helped me in building the relationship in the books … On several occasions I have commissioned cartoons from our infamous Man in Phuket Dave Ell featuring Debs being spanked by Ma and I have included one of my favorites, ‘A Hot Homecoming’ at the top of the post … as usual kick back and enjoy the yarn … a nice cold glass of chardonnay would be my suggestion … Bottoms Up! … RH

Zinged!

Deborah supported her weight with her palms flattened to the floor of her bedroom. She tried to turn her head and look back over her shoulder.

“Please Ma, can’t we talk about this?” she groaned plaintively.

“I think that you have done more than enough talking for one afternoon Deborah,” Penny Morton said briskly as she busied herself turning back the hem of her daughter’s skirt.

“Ma I was just joking, I wasn’t being sassy,” wailed Debs.

“You have been my daughter for twenty-seven years,” retorted Penny, “I rather think I know when you are being sassy and when you’re not,” and she moved the tail of Deborah’s crisp white blouse out of the way exposing the downy fair hairs at the base of Debs spine. “Sometimes I blame myself for all your difficulties,” continued Ma. “I always thought that the home should be a spank-free zone and that school would beat some sense into you.”

Deborah did not consider it an opportune moment to remind her mother that school had certainly beaten her; in fact she had been beaten so frequently that she held the official national record for being caned more than any other pupil since files had begun to be maintained in the 1850’s.

Deborah felt her mother’s fingers in the elastic waistband of her navy blue gossamer bumbags. “We won’t be needing these for the moment,” remarked Penny.

Debs couldn’t keep herself from wailing, “Aw Ma,” as she felt the garments being rolled down her thighs, past her knees and calves until they were concertinaed around her ankles.

“Now stretch out properly and put your head right down so that we can get this over with,” said Ma as she picked up the long-handled, oval-headed, wood-backed hairbrush that she used in these situations. “We have a table booked for eight-thirty and I don’t want us to be late.” She began to circle the head of the brush across the bare flesh of Deborah’s rear end. “I told you to stretch out properly,” snapped Penny. “I’m not going to start until you do and if you do make us late this evening I shall spank you again when we get home.”

“Grrrrrrrr!!!” growled Deborah Morton as she finally slumped forward.

Penny cracked the brush down on the lower-third of Deborah’s right buttock.

“Ma!” wailed Debs. “That’s not funny! That hurt!”

“Of course it hurt darling, it was supposed to hurt,” responded Penny, “what would be the point of spanking you if it didn’t hurt? Now stop making such a fuss. You’re always boasting how tough you are on your blog, so stop acting like a muff!”

“That’s not the same!” squealed Deborah and her mother gave her a hearty crack on the crown of the same buttock, just above the first.

And so it went on, the pair of them bantering and bickering back and forth as the spanking proceeded. Debs shaking her head, punching the air and legs scissoring as Ma blistered her bum. For Debs being spanked by Ma Morton was unlike any other experience of having her bottom drubbed. It was nothing like it had been when she was being caned at school or being punished at the Unit, and it was most certainly not even remotely like the recent pleasures she had discovered in the world of recreational spanking. It was being spanked by Ma, which was entirely different, and Deborah felt perfectly at liberty to howl and scream and even blub – although she was careful not to cuss or swear while she was being spanked in case she got extra.

Slowly, methodically they worked through the cycle, Penny working her way up the right side of Deborah’s bottom and back down the left. Three cracks on either side to provide a salmon undercoat and then repeating the process until every centimeter of Deborah’s bottom was a bright and throbbing crimson.

“Now settle down and stay still, I’m going to zing you,” said Penny Morton.

“Nooo Ma! Pleeasse! My butt’s already as hot as Hades,” wailed Deborah but she knew it would do no good. Penny Morton was a disciple of Ma Brooks and subscribed to the philosophy that, “it’s not really over until you zing ‘em!”

Deborah lay across her mother’s lap, the butterflies building in her stomach. Ma was taking her time. Deborah knew what was about to happen, she just didn’t know when or where.

It was all over in a matter of seconds. Without any warning Penny Morton reached down and put her left hand on the back of Deborah’s neck, forcing her head downwards until her nose was barely inches from the floor. Deborah’s bright red and pulsating bare bottom was thrust upwards. Ma cracked the hairbrush down three times without a second’s interruption between each ear-splitting crack, and the head of the brush pounded exactly the same spot of Deborah’s swollen behind.

Deborah Morton threw back her head and howled at the top of her lungs.

“Go and stand in the corner with your hands on your head for fifteen minutes while you cool down,” Penny told Debs once they were finished, “and then get ready for dinner. The taxi will be here at eight-fifteen.”

“Yes Ma,” muttered Debs and shuffled across the room with her bumbags still concertinaed around her ankles.

Every Picture Tells a Story

This post is a little off the usual subject as it doesn’t feature the characters from the Woody Back to School Unit but I think that you will still enjoy … I don’t very often repost stuff that other bloggers have assiduously hunted and gathered but I’m sure that the brilliant D J Black who hosts the incredible ’The Voice in the Corner’ site won’t mind too much that I swagged the first picture from his site … Anybody that hasn’t previously visited the Voice should scamper over as quickly as your mouse will carry you and experience one of the truly great spanking experiences available within the blogosphere.

I have not been able to post much recently due to work commitments but am now going on a well-deserved vacation with My Beloved Jojo so I might find some time to tap out a few words … anyway … I think that the three pictures that I’ve featured today are all truly brilliant because they convey a whole story without a word being said … however, RH always feels the need to say something so here are my thoughts … in the first one you can almost hear the young lady saying something like “Hey Mister, let’s slow down here, there’s no need to be hasty!” … in the second the snarky looking Headgal saying “And you young lady are a complete disgrace!” and finally, as for the third I’m sure that it speaks for itself, “Oh shit!” … (btw I have no idea of the original provenance of any of the featured graphics so my apologies and if anybody would like a credit I will be pleased to post) … I have to run but as usual feel free to have a good old rummage through the libraries and galleries … there is a lot to read and peruse and best of all it is ABSOLUTELY FREE and commercial free … catch up with y’all soon when normal Woody service resumes … Bottoms Up! … RH

Memorial Day Special – Brand Spanking New FREE Woody Book

I just managed to put the finishing touches to ‘Volume 38 –Mischief and Mayhem’, the latest installment of the Woody Back to School Unit saga in time for Memorial Day … of course, in this latest volume our cast of heroines and villainesses are up to their bumbags in their usual shenanigans and the sounds of canes, straps, slippers and sundry other instruments from the Woody artillery rebounding off tautened navy blue gossamer bumbags reverberate throughout the book.

Just a reminder that the complete collection of the thirty-eight full-length volumes that currently comprise the saga are available in Library I , absolutely FREE for download in pdf format … so for all of you lucky enough to be enjoying a long weekend treat yourself to a wee tipple and just kick back and enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH

Brand Spanking New Woody Toon – Hot Times for the Famous Four

Every picture tells a story … or two, or three, or four, or even five depending on which characters perspective you look at this toon from … whether it’s Rosemary who has just been caned and is experiencing the aftermath … Debs looking resigned and slightly apprehensive, or Nix looking like she found a frog in the soup as they both wait to be caned … Jojo caught up in the very heart of a world class whopping … or the inveterate whop junkie Patty Hodge getting her jollies as she dishes out the whops, they’ve all got a story to tell … this was a great opportunity to capture all of the Famous Four in one frame so my congratulations to Our Man in Phuket, Dave Ell, for interpreting the latest brief and transforming it into what I think is a minor masterpiece … for your added enjoyment I have included the early pencil and ink drafts of the toon … Bottoms Up! … RH

Six of the Best

It’s always pretty cool to wake up on a Monday morning and find drafts of a new toon in my inbox (the joys of collaborating across two hemispheres) … I was particularly interested in Mr Ell’s latest overnight transmission as I had decided to be a little experimental with my latest brief … in the past I have generally sent Dave briefs for conventional comic-book style four-frame toons that follow a particular episode/story-line from the books of the Woody Back to School Unit saga … occasionally when we have used a series of multiple toons to tell a particularly extended or complex story we have concluded the sequence with a single-frame ‘Big Bang’ toon … these one-framers are some of my favorites in the collection as they allow Dave to paint on a somewhat broader canvas, so to speak, and give him the opportunity to inject some of his own inspired humor into the proceedings … so it occurred to me that perhaps we could use the one-frame medium to depict a specific event, in a manner that would also contain multiple subliminal sub-plots within the same frame … sounds complex? … Well we shall have to wait a day or two to see how the experiment works out … but in the meantime to whet your appetite for this forthcoming historic event I have included six of our previous single-frame efforts for your entertainment … so keep checking back … until then just kick-back and enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH

Greetings to our New Guests and Have a Rummage Sunday

A big welcome our new guests who have nipped over from AnimeOTK where Our Man in Phuket, Dave Ell has been showcasing some of the Woody commissions alongside a variety of works that he has created for other clients (including the featured image that I just happened to like) … I am slowly but surely closing in on completing ‘Volume 38 – Mischief and Mayhem’, the latest installment of the Woody Back to School Unit saga … its taking a little longer than expected mostly due to day-to-day vanilla distractions … nonetheless I am hoping to get the latest edition finished in a week or so and of course it will be available for download in pdf format absolutely FREE, everything here is FREE! … so if you are a new guest please feel free to have a good old rummage around the Libraries and Galleries … there’s plenty to read and see … it’s Sunday so pour a Bloody Mary or a mimosa and then kick back and enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH

Brand Spanking New Woody Book Coming Shortly

Over the past week or so I have been concentrating on putting the finishing touches to ‘Volume 38 – Mischief and Mayhem’, the latest installment of the Woody Back to School Unit saga … hopefully this should be finished in a week or so and of course it will be available for download in pdf format absolutely FREE, everything here is FREE! … so I thought I would share a brief extract from the new book … kick back and enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH

Tradecraft

“You are a degenerate of the first order Huntington,” Patty was telling Lady Derby as she dusted her bumbags.

Her Ladyship couldn’t give two figs about Patty’s opinions regarding her lifestyle choices but she did take considerable umbrage at being head down arse up across Patty Hodge’s lap.

Lady Derby was the first to admit that she loved being spanked under almost any circumstances; the only exception that she could think of was when it was Patty doing the spanking.

Given the choice Derby would have much preferred to have been shown a red card and sent upstairs to the Grand Masters office for six hot ones with the cane but Patty was not in the business of farming out her jollies. She had barreled down upon the bob-haired aristocrat and yanked her out of her seat. After hauling Derby stumbling down the aisle of the lecture room Patty had dumped her over her lap, flipped back her skirt and given her several hearty spanks across her bumbags. After half a dozen whaps she had hauled Derby back to her feet.

“Remove your blazer, young lady,” Patty had snapped, “and let’s do this properly.”

Derby knew from experience that doing things properly Patty Hodge style was going to be tiresome. Ms Hodge would not be content to just get on with the dusting, she would doubtless feel compelled to maintain a commentary of snide observations about Her Ladyship’s shortcomings throughout the proceedings.

Derby gritted her teeth and tried to shut out the interminable mocking comments that Patty insisted on making to punctuate the spanking. Derby willed herself to remain completely still and not give Patty the satisfaction of even the slightest twitch, shudder or quiver that might show the Dame that she was causing her aristocratic posterior any discomfort.

Patty grinned to herself. Derby’s determination to remain motionless was almost palpable. Patty continued to spank with an easy rhythm, working up the right side of Derby’s bum and then back down the other, all the while interjecting the proceedings with her barbed jibes. She was in no hurry. Patty Hodge knew that it was all about timing and that very shortly Lady Derby’s determined stoicism was going to be stretched to the limit.

Patricia Hodge had first learned her tradecraft, over forty years earlier, laying head down, arse up across the lap of a young lady named Alexis Birchall. When Patty was first enrolled at the original Woody School she was assigned to grub for Alexis, a tall, beautiful and intimidating figure. Patty’s first insight into Alexis’s cruel and autocratic nature came when she arrived in the Brat Dorm to spend her first night as a Woody Gal. All the gab in the dorm was about the initial training spankings that the new brats had just endured. Patty was horrified to discover that the other brats had received twelve spanks from their mentors whereas Patty had been subjected to three times that number.

At first Patty despised Alexis who treated her as a serf and dusted her bumbags liberally. Nonetheless she secretly admired her charismatic mentor. Although Alexis had been over-looked for the prestigious role of Red-shirt there was no question that she held the school in her thrall. She surrounded herself with sycophantic disciples and a network of snitches that fed her information that guaranteed the delivery of a steady stream of hapless miscreants whose bumbags she gleefully cut to tatters upstairs in the privacy of the library.

Patty’s own tendency towards imperious behavior had not gone unnoticed by Alexis and her mentor slowly began to thaw to her as she began to view Patty as a kindred spirit.

“One day you will thank me,” she used to tell Patty while she spanked her, “the lessons you are learning under my tutelage will serve you well in your future.”

Alexis had the responsibility of being the Senior Brat Draper. When mentors thought that their grubbys needed a more serious dusting than the standard twelve spanks they would send them up to the library for an extended draping from Alexis. It was Patty’s duty to escort the unfortunate Brat’s to the library and monitor them while they performed nose and toes as they awaited the arrival of Alexis.

As Alexis warmed to Patty she began to allow her grubby to come into the library and witness the lengthy spankings.

Patty had witnessed dozens of routine spankings in the lecture rooms where the recipients might wriggle, jerk and squirm but it often appeared that their pride was hurt as much as their bums. She soon learned that an extended draping in the library was a very different affair.

Draping’s could be ordered by the quarter gross, the half gross, and in extreme circumstances a full gross. Alexis was a stylish spanker. She took considerable care in preparing her prey, stretching them out and leaving them pondering their fates with their bottoms bared for considerable lengths of time. The hapless grubby’s were not informed how many spanks had been ordered.

Alexis would start slowly and rhythmically, warming and reddening both cheeks in preparation for her trademark blitz attack. Not even the most willful, recalcitrant, belligerent and spank hardened Brat was equipped to withstand a full-bloodied blitz. During the year that she grubbed for Alexis Patty Hodge saw some of the toughest gals in the joint reduced to quivering, blubbering messes.

It was a lesson in tradecraft that Patty would never forget.

Blitz Attack

The Little Brats leaned forward with their elbows on the lids of the desks and their necks craned forward.

Spankings during Patty’s lectures were commonplace. In fact it was a very rare day when she did not put one Brat or another over her knee. Lecture room spankings were generally routine affairs limited to anywhere between a dozen and two dozen spanks but it was clear to everybody in the room Patty was not in the mood for limiting herself to a paltry paddy whacking. Her arm pumped up and down as she warmed to her work.

Lady Derby began to sense that she was over Patty’s knee for the long road. They had already long passed the twenty-four-spank post and Derby knew that they had not yet got to the real heart of the spanking. The bob-haired aristocrat gritted her teeth and concentrated on remaining totally still. She knew that it was inevitable that she would shortly be blitzed; she just had no possible way of telling when.

Patty Hodge took a deep breath and steadied herself. She tucked Derby’s long lean frame in a little tighter to the crease of her lap and let loose with a blitz.

Patty’s arm pumped up and down at a ferocious pace as she slapped Derby’s bumbags in a random fashion. She knew from several extended sessions across Alexis Birchall’s lap that this had a bewildering effect. Derby no longer knew where the next spank would land and Patty was certain that she would soon become discombobulated.

Derby gritted her teeth and willed herself to remain defiantly still, which was becoming increasingly difficult. Patty had long arms and quite large hands and she was spanking Her Ladyship with considerable gusto. Derby knew that if she could only remain focused and ride out the storm the blitz was bound to be over shortly. Even the most prolific spanker could rarely sustain a blitz for much more than a few dozen spanks before they needed to take a breather.

Patty was panting from her excursions. Her hand was stinging from the furious flurry of spanks that she had landed on Lady Derby’s tautened bumbags. She stared down at the twins mounds encased in navy blue gossamer. To her disgust they were barely even twitching.

Lady Derby was grateful for the breather. She had no doubt that the spanking was far from over but it was unlikely that Patty would attempt a second blitz. When the spanking resumed she suspected that it would return to a the slow methodical and predictable rhythm and she felt confident that she would be able to remain in control.

Lady Derby stood on a chair at the front of the lecture room with her hands on her head. By the time Patty had finished the spanking Derby suspected that the final tally had been half a gross. It was always difficult to keep count during the blitz and the number of spanks was not a required entry field when the spanking was post-processed. Nonetheless Patty was old school and would doubtless have been keeping a close count herself so Derby assumed that seventy-two spanks was probably as good an estimate as any.

Every now and again Patty would stop the lecture and turn to Derby to make a snide remark. Lady Derby did her best to ignore the jibes but she found herself increasingly distracted in contemplating ways that she might wreak some revenge on the unpleasant be-yotch.

Michelle Morgan slipped her arm into Derby’s as they cut through the cloisters.

“Whoa gratters sis, that was damned impressive,” gushed Michelle. “You could almost see the steam coming out of her ears when you didn’t start jerking about like a fucking fish.”

Derby beamed. “Well you know how much I hate that be-yotch so I just couldn’t give her any satisfaction,” she told her chum. “If it had been anyone else I could have really enjoyed myself but being dusted by Patty is just a royal pain in the arse, so to speak.”

Michelle giggled. “Speaking of royal pain’s in the arse I’ve gotta stretch. I’ve got an appointment with Debs to be beaten on House Business so I think it’s safe to say that I’ll be sporting a pain in my arse quite shortly.”

Derby hugged her chum. “Take care sister, remember its only whops.”

Michelle grinned ruefully. “Yeah but unfortunately its only whops from Debs Morton!”

Twenty-Four Hours – The Conclusion

For the past few posts we have been following Debs Morton around and witnessing the trials and tribulations of her unfortunate bumbags … today the Woody Back to School Unit is pleased to present the complete story of 24 sizzling hours inside Deborah’s bumbags … unusually this sequence of toons is not directly related to an extract from the saga … this was designed more as a tongue-in-cheek tribute to celebrate the thirty-eighth anniversary of creating the character of Debs Morton and the fiftieth birthday of the young lady her character was originally based upon … it was also a great opportunity to revisit a host of Woody personalities as drawn by Our Man in Phuket Dave Ell … I think that the concluding toon is a masterpiece with all the little side witticisms that Dave threw in … as usual my appreciation for his interpretations of my briefs … I really hope that you enjoy the toons and if you are a new guest please take the time to stay and have a good old rummage around … there is plenty to read and view in the libraries and galleries … everything is absolutely FREE and best of all, commercial FREE … I have the good fortune of having a long weekend so I am going to kick-back and enjoy a spicy Bloody Mary, why don’t you join me … enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH

Brand Spanking New Toon – Twenty-Four-Hours Part 3 – 0745 Hours to 0900 Hours

STOP PRESS … Following a night of feverish speculation, gossip and gab by observers and analysts on the Woody Watch web-sites a spokesperson for the Woody Back to School Unit confirmed that Deborah Morton has been sentenced to be publicly flogged … the flogging is scheduled to be performed by Ms Lawton at 0900 Hours this morning … Fortunately for our readers the intrepid cartoonist and International Man of Mystery Dave Ell was on location to capture this historic event up close and personal as it unfolded … kick back and enjoy … the final installment of this sequence of toon’s is scheduled for release in the next day or two so keep checking back … Bottoms Up! … RH

The Original Pippa

According to a genuine quote from one fashionista commentator regarding the recent royal nuptials … “the Wedding was really all about Pippa’s arse,” … her male partner in wedding observation crime concurred, observing as she sauntered down the aisle the maid of honors rear end resembled “two otters attempting to escape from a sack,” … I wonder what further observations these two witty wags might make if they were able to track down a copy of Janus 23 and see the wriggling and jiggling of the delightful rear end of the original Pippa as she spends some quality time head down, arse up over a tall stool in the Headmaster’s study … just a thought … Bottoms Up! … RH

Which Side Do You Want the Last One?

I have been writing the character of Debs Morton in some form or the other since March 1973 … the reason that I can be so certain of the timeline is that the spanking of my chum’s sister that inspired me to first put pen to paper coincided with the release of Pink Floyds Dark Side of the Moon … I mentioned a couple of days ago that the young lady who had the misfortune to be on the wrong end of the spanking celebrates her fiftieth birthday today, so happy b’day to Debbie and I suppose I should add a belated HB to Debs.

The Debs character is not the only inmate of the Woody Back to School Unit who dates back to that era … Melanie White, Spanker Spage, the Butcher Twins, and Cat Cassidy are all based on local gals I grew up with … Melanie was my cousin’s best chum and for quite a long time dated one of my running mate’s and was a wonderfully larger than life character.

Her father was a heart surgeon, which at the time was an extremely prestigious profession and I can only presume earned him a Kings Ransom … her mother was a divinely chic creature who lunched and whenever I met her she could be best described as appearing very elegantly wasted … Melanie was extremely attractive, with hazel eyes, thick chestnut hair and a smattering of cute freckles on her nose … she earned the nickname of ‘Melons’ at a young age due to her impressive appendages … she attended the same school as Debbie and my cousin and was very bright … she was also very, very wild.

A short time after I had visited Debbie up at Concordia University in Montreal I took Cuz and Melanie out for a few bevvies, we were all in our early twenty’s at the time … I mentioned that I had stayed with Debbie … they were a couple of years older than her and mostly remembered her for her tennis, there had been some speculation that Debbie would turn pro until a dislodged vertebrae put paid to that dream … but they did offer a few insights and observations that I have used over the years in my writing … Cuz told me that Debbie was always in trouble, by far the naughtiest gal in the school, and was often chucked out of morning assembly … Melons concurred telling me that Debbie was “probably even naughtier than me if that is possible,” and giggled that, “she probably stayed behind after school quite a few times” … I understood what Melanie meant by the last comment … the phrase had often been used at the preparatory school I attended where the males were dealt with summarily while the gentler sex were told that they would be staying behind … which was code for informing the hapless miscreant that she was in for a damn good spanking … or in the case that Melons was referring to, a dose of the slipper.

I was aware that both my cousin and Melanie were familiar with corporal punishment … there had been a minor family controversy after my cousin had been caned for truancy … my Aunt was apoplectic that she paid these exorbitant school fee’s and Cuz was bunking off … she was threatening to put Cuz over her knee when she got home and spank her so hard she wouldn’t sit down for a week … my mother argued that the school had dealt with the matter and that should be the end of it … eventually my Mum prevailed and Cuz escaped a prolonged spanking but I seem to remember that she was grounded for eternity and might have preferred a quicker solution … over the years, although she has never really been specific, Cuz has often intimated that the truancy incident was neither the first nor last time she got the cane but I can’t be sure.

As I said earlier Melanie was pretty wild … she hung with our crew and was tight with my girlfriend du jour, J … Melanie was incredibly articulate, funny and down-right crude … I’ll never forget her complaining that, “trouble follows me around like a bad case of flatulence,” … not a bad quip for a young lady and I have subsequently plagiarized it extensively in my writings … she was also pretty open and uninhibited and she used to confide in J … one time Melanie had been required to stay behind and she told J how it went down … J was fascinated and horrified by Melons account, as the school she attended did not practice any form of corporal punishment … anyway according to Melons the slippering ritual went something like this …

The first order of business each morning was the calling of registration … each gal’s name was called and she was required to confirm her presence … it was at this time that it was customary to inform any luckless individual that they would be staying late … according to Melanie’s account to J this misfortune had occurred and she had duly stayed behind and given three cracks of the plimsoll … given the time and place (early 1970’s, London) this would not seem particularly unusual … nonetheless this kind of information was both exciting and stimulating to a young buck spanko like RH … but it was the last piece of info that Melanie shared with J that I found so exhilarating … according to J’s second hand account Melanie’s form mistress was both slipper-happy and slightly deranged … apparently she would whap her slipper down alternately across right and left buttock and then enquire from the unfortunate gal … “which side (buttock) do you want the last one?” … I just thought that was classic … anyway I have a squillion hours of recorded football to watch so I need to cut along sharpish … thanks for calling by … stay and have a good old rummage … everything is absolutely FREE and completely commercial FREE … so enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH

Twenty-Four-Hours Part 2 – 1215 Hours to 2245 Hours

In today’s toon we continue following the bumbags of Debs Morton through a disastrous 24 hours … I originally wrote this story way back when … I think that it was probably inspired by the classic Angela Richards spanking novella ‘The School Record’ … anyway I thought that I’d take the bones of the story and update it to the Woody Back to School Unit environment … this was a great way to get Dave Ell to revisit some of the classic Woody characters and I’m sure that you will agree that he’s done a bang up job … the plan is to send him the briefs for the two concluding toons over the weekend so that we can post them sometime next week … it’s the weekend so why don’t you pour yourself a chilled glass of chardonnay and after you’ve enjoyed the toon have a good old rummage around the site … there’s all kinds of things to read in the libraries and original works hanging in the galleries … best of all it’s absolutely FREE and completely commercial FREE … so enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH

Twenty-Four-Hours Part 1 – 0900 Hours to 1215 Hours

Today’s toon is the first in a sequence that follows the trials and tribulations of Deborah Morton’s bumbags through an extremely hot and sweaty twenty-four-hours … there is a little bit of a back-story behind why I commissioned this particular set of toons … thirty-six years ago I overheard my best chums sister, Debbie, being spanked by her mother, it was an event that inspired me to write my first ever spanking story and to plant the first seeds of the character who would eventually evolve into Debs Morton in the Woody Back to School Unit saga … a few days ago I noticed on her brother’s Facebook page that this weekend he will be travelling to the East Coast to help the young lady in question celebrate her fiftieth birthday … In honor of Debbie’s anniversary I decided that it was a perfect excuse to commission this spectacular homage to the character she inspired.

I shall of course be sending Debbie my heartiest congratulations but any tributes that I send her will be of the floral nature … although she is a wonderfully funny and open-minded member of the human race I am pretty certain that she would not appreciate this little tribute … after a brief but inspiring conversation that I once had with her regarding her experiences of corporal punishment I concluded with some degree of certainty that she is definitely not of the spankette inclination (see Conversations with Debbie and the Vanilla Nuggets for further details … oh well.

As usual I would like to express my appreciation to Our Man in Phuket, Dave Ell , who has done a magnificent job in bringing this sequence to life and it is our pleasure to show the evolution of this toon evolving from pencil drawing, thru inking and then coloration and finally addition of dialogue … Well done Dave.

‘Twenty-Four-Hours Part 2 – 1215 Hours to 2245 Hours’ is scheduled for release tomorrow … so make sure you stop by … it’s another absolute classic … I will also be sending Dave two more briefs to conclude this series and we’ll hopefully have them ready next week … I can assure you the by the time we are finished you will agree that these were a very hot and sweaty twenty-four hours to be sporting poor old Debs Morton’s bumbags … and depending on your personal persuasion in these matters might even make you downright jealous … kick-back and enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH

Brand Spanking New Woody Toon’s on the Drawing Board

I was delighted to wake up this morning and find these pencil drafts of two brand spanking new Woody toons that we have commissioned from Our Man in Phuket, Dave Ell , waiting for me in my inbox … the joys of life in the 24-hour global village … of course this is only the first stage of the process of evolving my written brief’s into the final toons, but as a man who can’t be trusted to draw the curtains without supervision I have great respect and admiration for this phase of the work and thought I would share these brilliant pencil drawings as a taster of things to come later in the week … enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH

Raw and Sore – More from Miss Rosemary Booker

Today we continue the ongoing adventures, trials and tribulations of the bumbags of Miss Rosemary Booker and her chums from the Woody Back to School Unit with the latest installment of ’A Life in the Day of Rosemary Booker’. As usual I have posted the full up to date version of the ongoing Rosemary yarn in Library II as a Work in Progress … and of course it’s FREE, everything here is FREE! … For those of you who read the earlier chapters I hope you will enjoy catching up with Miss Bookers exploits and observations and for visitors unfamiliar with the earlier chapters just click on the link in the library then kick back and enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH

Chapter 21 – Where is Debs Morton?

The first of the afternoon’s final two lectures is being supervised by Ms Reed. Reed the Weed, as she is known by us wags, is easily the lamest dame in the joint.

Japing the Weed is considered premiere sport and by midway through the lecture Jojo, Nixdown and Debs have all already attracted yellow cards. Of course, japing the Weed is always a hoot but it does have a downside. Ms Reed has long acknowledged that she is an entirely ineffectual disciplinarian and that her attempts at corporal punishment were openly scoffed at by the whop-hardened veteran inmates of the unit. As a result the Weed went out of the whopping business and into the red card game. Unfortunately, as all four of us of fully subscribed and paid up members of the Double Berkeley Society, a trip to the Grand Masters office means a mandatory twelve-stroke bare bender, which is considered very tough duty.

Fortunately common sense prevails and my chums briefly temper their behavior and manage to finish the lecture with their bumbags intact.

The final lecture is Economics conducted by Ms Pauline Gascoigne. Pauline is one of our favorites and is very minx-friendly. Deborah knows her from their schooldays together and by all accounts Pauline was something of a mega-minx in her own right back in the day.

Pauline encourages participation and inter-action during her lectures so they are often quite lively affairs. Nonetheless she has established specific ground-rules and protocols and when Deborah over-steps the mark Pauline shows her another yellow card.

“Another remark like that, Miss Morton, and I shall be compelled to bend you over your desk and absolutely cream you,” she assures Deborah. Debs pouts slightly but once again she sensibly buttons her lip and we end the lecture without any unpleasantness.

Debs slips her arm in mine as we cut along after the last bell has sounded.

“Phew,” she says cheerily, “that was a close thing, I was really planning on getting through the rest of the week without scoring any more whops.”

“Hallelujah to that, sister,” I tell her.

I drop off my satchel upstairs in the study and then head off to the music room for my appointment with Suzy Scott. As I had predicted the last hour I was forced to spend with my poor beleaguered bum pressed down against a hard wooden seat has been quite disagreeable; however I am quite pleased with the cooling powers of my latest mystical balm and walking is not quite as uncomfortable as it was an hour earlier.

Suzy greets me cheerily and offers me a seat. I decide to decline politely and stand in front of her desk with my arms folded across my chest. She does not rub my nose in the fact that she did me a considerable favor earlier by not writing me up for slacking and she barely even scolds me. She is genuinely concerned that if my grades continue to drop I will eventually attract the hawk-like attention of Patty Hodge and of course the spectre of being humiliatingly flunked.

I have little choice other than to agree to her action plan that will involve me resubmitting the assignment before brekker on Monday morning.

“I am not talking about another submission that barely scrapes through, I need something brilliant so I can argue that the only reason that I granted you an extension was to put some minor finishing touches so that you could achieve the highest grade,” she tells me.

I agree that this is not unreasonable and that I will have several days including a full weekend to compile the paperwork. It is not even a difficult subject, all I need to do is to stop allowing myself to be distracted by cyber-gabbing with the Silver Fox. How hard can that be?

Once we have agreed the terms of this contract I hang out and gab with her for a while. In real terms she is far more one of us than one of them; us being the inmates and them being the Brass of course. She has a colorful past and makes no attempt to hide the fact she is a woman of kink. She spends several evenings a week finishing her day with trysts in the stable with Nixdown and Penny Ann. Nixdown always chuckles licentiously and assures me that Miss Suzy Scott is equally at home at either end of the cane.

Eventually she excuses herself and tells me she needs to go and change as she is scheduled to meet Debs at the Wellness Center for a work-out.

I thank her again for her thoughtfulness and kindness and amble back upstairs to my study. Debs is not around so I just naturally assume that she has already changed and has gone over to the center to warm-up. I stick my head around the door of Jojo and Nixdown’s study to see if anything of interest is occurring.

“Nothing much, except that poor old Debs is upstairs outside the library,” she tells me. “The House Grubby stopped by and told her to cut along sharpish. She’s scheduled to be beaten on House Business. That’s all the details I have at this juncture.”

“You cannot be serious,” I squeal.

“Serious as a fucking brain tumor,” drawls Nixdown.

“Oh good fucking grief,” is all I can think of to say.

Chapter 22 – Acceptable Rubbing

Deborah storms back into the study with a face as black as thunder. She hauls off her blazer and throws it at a chair. She kicks off her shoes; one clatters against the wall and barely misses breaking a mirror, the other almost knocks over a vase. I sense that she is a tad miffed.

“I suppose there’s not much point in asking how the appointment went,” I say sympathetically.

“Give me a fag and fix me a fucking drink,” she snaps, “The Wart made Claire give me a fucking running bender so she wouldn’t be able to pull the strokes. And if it wasn’t bad enough having my fucking bumbags cut to tatters I had to put up with the Wart and that be-yotch Cobb watching and making witty comments throughout the fucking proceedings.”

I reach into my blazer pocket and pull out my smokes and light one for her. Of course Debs is a professional athlete and she rarely smokes except when she is exceptionally stressed. I suspect her recent experience has been classified as stressful. She snatches the fag from my hand and takes a long drag, blowing the smoke out of her nostrils.

“I’ve a good mind to go and find Sally fucking Cobb and bop her on the hooter,” she rages.

Whoa! We need to head this type of gab off at the pass. Once Deborah gets one of her crazy notions in her head she is prone to pursue them without regard to the consequences. I can assure you that the consequences of bopping a House Captain on the sniffer will be the whole unit being summoned to the Great Hall to witness Debs being publicly flogged.

“I’ll open a nice bottle of chards,” I say hurriedly, “and then we’ll see what we can do about the damage.”

Deborah takes one or two drags of the fag and grinds it out in an ashtray. She reaches under the hem of her skirt and cups her tortured nates in each hand and begins to rub furiously.

Now this behavior is considered perfectly acceptable under the current circumstances. Although public rubbing is sneered upon as muffish behavior, rubbing a scalded arse in the privacy of your own study is an acceptable practice.
I have known Deborah long enough to conclude that the thrashing she has just been subjected too must have been quite special. She is not just absently or idly touching her bum, she is rubbing furiously. Her shoulders are arched backwards her chest is thrust forward and her head tilted back.

“That fucking be-yotch, that was so fucking bogus, they stitched me up like a fucking kipper” she continues to rage. “I’m going to track her down and string her up by the elastic of her bumbags, you mark my words!”

I hurry over to the fridge and find a bottle of chardonnay and grab the opener. I need to distract her before she just goes postal and actually does go off hunting Sally Cobb down.

Now let me get something straight I have no love for the be-yotch Sally Cobb. She is no better than the other be-yotch Sally Poffers that I spoke of earlier, who is captain of my own house. Unfortunately revenge is not the issue here however satisfying it might prove to be.

“Come on Debs, calm down and chill out,” I plead with her, “remember it’s only whops.”

She glares at me. I take a step backwards. Debs can be unpredictable in these moments. I finish removing the cork and pour a healthy slug into a glass and offer it to her. Deborah is not a great drinker so this might not prove to be much of a diversion but at least she does reach out and take the glass; she even manages to smile albeit rather weakly. “Thanks,” she mutters. “Sheesh that gal whops hard. Can you believe my luck? Whopped by Claire Brooks three times in the same week! That’s just not right.”

She walks across to the mirror and turns around. She reaches under her skirt and rolls down her bumbags. She raises the hem of the back of her skirt and looks over her shoulder at the damage.

I have to admit that it looks pretty raw and sore but I have seen Deborah’s bum in far worst condition than this. After all she did only get six and although they do not exactly offer protection per se she was caned with her bumbags in-situ. I’m pretty sure that she is more pissed off about being stitched up than by the actual whops themselves. Not making light of the whops of course, I don’t need to remind you that only last night I experienced the full glory of being caned by Claire and it was not pleasant.

Speaking of the devil, Claire pops her head around the door. “I’m so sorry,” she tells Debs.

Deborah rolls her bumbags back up and turns around to face Claire. “Nothing for sorry Claire, you were just doing your job,” she says evenly. “I just wish that you weren’t so goddam good at it.”

Claire sighs. “I’m sorry but once you start a run-up you have to follow through with the stroke. The Wart knows that which is why she is so partial to ordering running benders.”

“The Wart is a be-yotch,” snarls Debs. “And as for that other be-yotch Cobb I’m going to track her down and make her sorry that she ever signed her devil’s contract with the Wart.”

“Steady gal,” says Claire soothingly, “I know that you’re feeling hard done by right now, but don’t do anything rash that you’ll end up regretting.”

Momentarily Debs glares obstinately back at Claire. I suspect she is about to say something really catty but after a few seconds she just shrugs and drains her glass. She holds her arm out for a refill.

“Oh what the hell,” she mutters. “I think it’s time to get seriously squiffy.”

Claire and I exchange glances and I breathe a huge sigh of relief over an unnecessary flogging having been averted. To her credit Debs crosses the room and hugs Claire.

“Whoa sis,” she says quietly, “you are one hot mama, and man you whop hard!” … To Be Continued

Rosemary Booker Spanked by Debs Morton!

The last we heard from Rosemary Booker she was bent over a piano stool being beaten with a violin bow by Miss Suzy Scott … they were five strokes into the thrashing and Rosemary was fretting over the arrival of the dreaded closer … in today’s installment of ’A Life in the Day of Rosemary Booker’ we reveal how her bumbags fare.

As usual I have posted the full up to date version of the ongoing Rosemary yarn in Library II as a Work in Progress … and of course it’s FREE, everything here is FREE! … For those of you who read the earlier chapters I hope you will enjoy catching up with Miss Bookers exploits, observations and trials and for visitors unfamiliar with the earlier chapters just click on the link in the library.

My apologies for the long fallow periods between posts but following my illness and convalescence I am still playing catch-up in the day-world … we did actually make an effort to create a new Woody toon based on a new experimental style that Dave Ell has been experimenting with in collaboration with another client … unfortunately I didn’t think that the change really worked in the Woody context (I included a couple of cut-out extracts throughout this post and have also showcased one of Dave’s personal Sammy Simkins toons that he has drawn in the same style) so I’d be pleased to hear any comments … I am planning on scoping out a new toon and sending Dave a briefing for a toon which will be in the original format and that should be up on the site sometime in the middle of next week … so keep checking back … meanwhile its Easter and a three day holiday, at least for me so pour a mimosa or a Bloody Mary and kick-back and enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH

Chapter 19 – The Closer

The sound of the violin bow rebounding off my tautened bumbags explodes in my ears. Momentarily I feel as if I am levitating and the electrifying pain ricochets through my body like a pinball and enlivens every nerve ending from the ends of my toes to the tip of my nose. I throw my head back and feel my face contort into a silent howl. I kick my legs and pummel the air with my fists before slumping down like a rag doll.

I desperately try to gather myself but I am feeling somewhat dizzy and quite bilious. The effects of the closer are quite startling. My teeth are chattering in a most disagreeable manner and my eyes are burning from the shockwaves of the last lethal delivery.

As I hang upside down across the piano stool, panting and delirious, I am forced to concede that Deborah was not exaggerating when she declared that Miss Suzy Scott is destined to go down in Woody history as one of the all-time greats. It is quite possible that over the past five years I have been whopped harder but right now I have considerable difficulty remembering when that might have been. There is absolutely no question that I have just been thoroughly nailed.

A full minute elapses before I feel Suzy reaching down, covering up my bumbags and smoothing down my skirt. “You may rise whenever you are ready,” Miss Suzy tells me in a tone that is not in the least bit unkindly.

Rather uncomfortably I push myself up from the stool and turn to face the Music Dame. She stares at me impassively.

“Please be so kind as to fetch your Punishment Record Book in order that we may proceed with the post-processing,” she tells me.

Very slowly I shuffle up the aisle and retrieve my PRB from the breast pocket of my blazer. I am extremely conscious of my stiff legged gait but I have little choice in the matter. In situations like this any sharp movement could prove disastrous. Equally slowly I return to the front of the room and rather bleakly hand the book over to Ms Scott.

I watch as she begins to enter the details in her neat hand. As she reaches the column with the heading ‘Reason for Punishment’ she stops writing and looks up at me and sighs.

“I really don’t want to open up Pandora’s Box by writing you up for slacking,” she tells me. “As far as I’m concerned you’ve taken your whops and I feel certain that we could agree to a compromise that will avoid any unnecessary unpleasantness. Report back here at four o’clock and we’ll thrash out the details.” With a flourish she writes ‘Backgabbing’ in the empty space and hands me back the book.

Despite the smoke that is billowing out from under my skirt I am almost over-whelmed by a sense of relief.

“Thank you Ma’am,” I gasp. “I’m truly sorry I let you down, I promise that you’ll never have to beat me for slacking again.”

She just nods and starts to update the ‘Breaking Whops’ area of the GalGab web-page. We both understand that she has just done me an enormous favor. Being formally labeled as a slacker would have had monstrous ramifications.

Predictably the following sixty minutes are excruciatingly painful as I wriggle and squirm my burning bum on the hard wooden seat. Mercifully the bell finally rings and signals the end of the session. I grab Debs by the arm and drag her upstairs as fast as my poor bum will allow. I am desperate to get back to our study so that she can put me over her knee.

Deborah gently rolls down my bumbags and lets out a low whistle.

“Holy moley,” she gasps, “that is un-fucking-believable. She is an absolute artiste.”

Jojo and Nixdown sound equally impressed and effusive as they peer down at my poor beleaguered bum.

“That looks so sore that I’m almost jealous,” chuckles my deranged chum Nixdown.

Considering the recent activity inside my bumbags what with being caned, slippered and then beaten bandy with a violin bow, all in the space of twenty-four hours it is hardly surprising that my bum is in a bit of a sorry state.

“When you’ve finished ogling my arse I’d be much obliged if you would get on with the job in hand,” I say a tad impatiently. “My bum is as hot as Hades.”

I feel the tip of Deborah’s finger tracing along the hot raw stripe on the crown of my bum. She is using a mint and aloe vera cooling balm that I have been experimenting with and receiving rave reviews from my testing team. I damn well hope it works!

“Jeez, Rosie,” Debs says irritably, “I can’t believe you’ve got yourself in such a pickle. I thought I’d spanked some sense into you.”

“Well perhaps you don’t spank as hard as you think,” I grunt rather petulantly.

“Well I’ll just have to try harder next time,” she chuckles and continues to massage my swollen orbs.

“Grrrrrrrrrrr!” I mutter darkly.

Chapter 20 – Spanked by Debs

Now I understand that in some strata’s of society that your best chum putting you over her knee and giving you a damn good spanking with the business side of a wood-backed hairbrush might seem a little queer. In fact even at Woodys this incident caused the arching of an eyebrow or two. I must confess that at the time I was not greatly appreciative of Debs efforts.

Deborah is my best chum and she had noticed that my grades were dropping and had decided to bring it to my attention. I must also confess that I did not take kindly to her observations and our exchange became quite heated after I told her to mind her business and to go and boil her head.

Now Debs is as fit as a butcher’s dog and she took me by surprise when she grabbed my wrist, dragged me across our study, sat down on the bed and dumped me face down across her lap. I have no idea where she managed to come up with a hairbrush but the next thing I knew she had yanked down my bumbags and was cracking the brush down in a most disagreeable manner. I was understandably a little miffed and was screaming bloody murder and cussing up a blue storm. Unfortunately Debs had me pinned down and no matter how much I struggled and yelled she calmly proceeded to spank me up one side of my bum and back down the other. Once she had finished the first six she just tucked me in more tightly and gave me a second helping.

By the time she was finished my vocal performance had attracted the attention of Jojo, Nixdown and half a dozen other rubbernecking gawkers who were all peering around the door of the study in astonishment.

“You fawkin’ be-yotch,” I screamed at Debs indignantly when she finally released her hold on me and allowed me to scamper off her lap, “are you fawkin’ barking? That was not fawkin’ funny!”

I heard the unmistakable tinkle of Nixdown tittering behind me, “Actually it was,” she drawled.

I span around glaring at her and was considering scratching her eyes out when it occurred to me that there is nothing less dignified than trying to get into a cat fight when your bumbags are concertinaed around your ankles.

“Fawk off, fawk off the lot of you,” I said somewhat lamely as I tried to shuffle towards the door to slam it shut in their faces. This was another undignified operation and I nearly fell on my fool face in my hurry. Nixdown winked at me and coolly closed the door behind her.

I finally reached down and hauled up my displaced navy blues and span around to confront Debs. To her credit she did look a little sheepish.

“Well you know what they say? There’s no problem that can’t be solved by a red bottom,” she says timidly and flutters her baby blues at me.

I considered hacking her in the shins or worse. I was seething with righteous indignation but it suddenly occurred to me that she genuinely thought that she was doing me a good turn.

“I can’t believe you fawkin’ spanked me,” I scowled at her.

“It seemed like the only way to make you see reason,” she told me. “Rosie I can’t bear the thought of you being flunked for slacking and having to spend an extra year in this joint. I just hope I’ve spanked some sense into you.”

Unfortunately I knew that she was right. If I continued to allow myself to be distracted I was in grave danger of becoming one of only a handful of gals who had been formally labeled as slackers and placed in the Special Report program.

This program is hugely unpopular as it falls under the direct supervision of Patty Hodge. Gals in the program are required to report to Patty first thing each morning and show her any assignments that they are working on. Patty spends most evenings imbibing in the saloon bar of the Bunch of Grapes and is notoriously cranky in the mornings. As a result the whop rate of anybody enrolled in the program is almost guaranteed to at least double.

Considering my whop-rate is already high enough for me to be a permanent fixture in the top ten of the Hall of Shame placing my bumbags in such extreme jeopardy hardly seems prudent.

Grudgingly I conceded that I probably needed to spend less time cyber-gabbing with the Foxy One and in return she half-heartedly apologized for spanking me and we eventually shared a hug.

Deborah continues to massage and sooth my poor beleaguered bum until the five minute warning bell sounds to summons us back to the lecture rooms. I rearrange my clobber and pick up my bag. I give Debs an appreciative hug and slip my arm through hers. Despite her best efforts I suspect that the coming hour and ten minutes with my bum pressed onto a hard wooden seat are going to be very tiresome … To Be Continued

Whops Now or Whops Later?

When we last visited with Miss Rosemary Booker we found our hapless heroine faced with the ghastly dilemma of whether to get her scheduled thrashing over with immediately or whether to delay … in today’s extract from ’A Life in the Day of Rosemary Booker’ we reveal the answer.

As usual I have posted the full up to date version of the ongoing Rosemary yarn in Library II as a Work in Progress … and of course it’s FREE, everything here is FREE! … For those of you who read the earlier chapters I hope you will enjoy catching up with Miss Brooks exploits, observations and trials and for visitors unfamiliar with the earlier chapters just click on the link in the library and kick-back and enjoy.

Before we proceed I’d like to extend a word of thanks to Aunty Andrea over at ’The Spank Shop’ for a kind review, always greatly appreciated … Bottoms Up! … RH

Chapter 17 – The Piano Stool

“Miss Booker?” Suzy prompts me.

I groan. Much as I hate the idea of bending over the piano stool postponing the inevitable seems like scoring an own goal.

“Let’s just get it over with,” I say with a distinct lack of enthusiasm and trudge towards the front of the room.

Miss Suzy shrugs off her jacket and hangs it up on a coat stand. She is wearing a black sleeveless singlet that shows off her muscles and the ornately detailed tattoo of a Golden Eagle on her left shoulder blade to great effect. There is no question that she is an incredible specimen. I have seen her rippling muscles when she is working out on the punch bag in the wellness center and she is awesome.

The closer I get to the front of the room the more panicked I become. I am well aware that my poor old sitmedown is not in the best of shapes. Even though I am several hours into the cool down period the combination of being licked with Claire’s lethal cane and having my circulation kick-started by Katie Beyotch Beck has left my bum in a state of considerable residual tenderness. Suzy picks up the piano stool and places it on the small dais at the front of the room. My tummy does an unpleasant back flip.

As I said earlier I have not previously had the misfortune to be beaten by Ms Scott but in the past I have taken an excursion across the piano stool a time or six.

Suzy’s predecessor was a cove named Dame Whitton. In contrast to Miss Suzy she was highly qualified as a musical lecturer. She had been a concert pianist of some note before an unfortunate car accident ended her playing career. She went on to become some kind of musical director but was forced to make another career change due to complaints from several members of her orchestra regarding her disciplinary practices and ended up pitching her tent at Woodys.

She was better known around the joint as the Wacky Whackster due to the fact that she was a cruel and heartless beyotch and certifiably barking. The Dame was given to wearing flamboyant and colorful outfits with turbans and swirling scarves. She palled around with Patty, Katie and the Wart and was a dedicated whop junkie.

Being beaten by Ms Whitton was always an extraordinary experience due to the theatrics she employed. She was an extreme scolder and any beating was preceded by her serving up a very unsavory helping of tongue pie. Once the unpleasant preliminaries were over and she had you stretched out across the piano stool with your bumbags pointed skywards the drama would begin in earnest.

She was an avid collector of the musical works of the works of Django Reinhardt during his Quintette du Hot Club de France period and would place the albums on her vintage gramophone and blare out the music at full volume throughout the beating. She would work herself into a trance-like state, waving her arms and prancing around the stage like a deranged whirling dervish, all the while leaving us sprawled out across the stool with our poor defenseless bums pointed towards the heavens. Every now and again she would come out of her trance and slash her violin bow downwards.

The lack of any kind of rhythm to the beating was most disconcerting and made it almost impossible to get into the zone. The Wacky Whackster nailed the bumbags of some of the most whop-hardened veterans in the Unit due to them becoming distracted by her spectacular theatrics.

As I said earlier Dame Whitton is currently languishing in pokey as a result of the tyrannical campaign of mischief and mayhem that she perpetrated on my best chum Deborah’s bumbags following the curious affair known as the Fabulous Fart. We hated her.

Miss Suzy crosses the floor and opens the glass top of one of the music cabinets. After some consideration she reaches in and extracts a wood shafted violin bow. I feel another shudder up my spine.

Actually what she is holding is not a violin bow in the traditional sense as the unwieldy stiffness of a fine bow would not lend itself to the bum beating business. The bow she has selected is one of a collection of customized canes that Dame Whitton commissioned from a Brazilian craftsman that specializes in such wares. As I say she was a cruel and heartless beyotch and definitely certifiably barking.

Suzy returns to the front of the room and points the tip of the bow at the stool.

“If you would be so kind Miss Booker,” she says not unkindly, “I would be much obliged if you would bend over the stool whenever you feel ready.”

I can’t help but stare at Miss Suzy. Much obliged? An uninformed onlooker could not be overly criticized for thinking that she might be extending me a cordial invitation to pop around for a cup of tea and a plate of cream scones!

I step up onto the dais and approach the stool. It is really a duet bench rather than a stool. It is twelve inches high at the leg, with four inches of hollow storage covered by a two inch cushioned seat. The seat is exactly twelve inches in breadth. The Woody Wags often joke that Heinrich Engelhard Steinweg and his carpenters must have tested their daughters out bent over the benches as they appeared to have designed one of the perfect venues for whops.

I place my palms on the cushioned seat and slowly lower myself downwards. I shift my tummy forward until I feel as if my body is equilaterally organized. I stretch out my arms and legs until only my fingers and toes touch the wood floor of the slightly raised wooden stage. I lower my head between my outstretched arms and watch my tie dangle forward and my hair cascade towards the floor. I take a deep breath and wait to be caned.

Chapter 18 – An Ominous Whistle

From this somewhat ignominious vantage point I have an obscure view of the world. I cannot really reach around far enough to be able to see over my shoulder so I monitor Suzy’s activities by following her feet. She crosses to the piano and I hear the rattle of wood on wood as she sets the bow aside for a few moments. I see her low-heeled black patent pumps as they pad across the floor and I feel her reach down and begin to carefully turn back my skirt in neat folds. I also feel myself beginning to perspire.

She takes the tail of my blouse and moves that aside, I am now stretched out, bent like an archers bow with my bumbags exposed for viewing by the eleven observers. I can sense them leaning slightly forward across their desks, cupping their chins in their arched hands as they stare intently at the navy blue contours of my bumbags.

I hear Miss Suzy return to the piano where she will retrieve the violin bow cane. I know the drill and understand the psychology. Nothing will happen during the next sixty seconds. I shall remain in my prone position with my arse significantly higher than my head and be left to contemplate the unfortunate circumstances that I find myself in.

Now I am sure that there are stronger specimens of the specie that could use this brief cool arse interlude to good effect and consider the furthering of the human condition but I am not one of them. On these occasions the only condition I find myself able to consider is the immediate future of my poor beleaguered bum.

I try not to panic and focus on getting myself into the zone. I begin to repeat my mantra, “it’s only whops, it’s only whops,” over and over in my head.

I take long deep breath’s and try not to fidget, which is extremely difficult. Sixty seconds might not sound like a particularly long time, but you try lying face down across a piano stool with your bumbags on display to an inquisitive and critical audience and not engaging in the odd spastic twitch. Try it at home. I dare you.

I hear the mesmerizing click and clack of Miss Suzy’s heels as she approaches me. My heart is beating uncomfortably and I fear that there is a real potential that it may shortly burst free from the restraints of my body and bounce pitifully about on the shiny service of the stage. I realize that I am becoming delirious.

I feel the tip of the bow tapping down, once, twice and then thrice. I have often wondered about the origin of this particular ritual, but this is probably not the best time for such rumination. I squeeze my eyes tightly closed and wait for the ominous whistle of rattan cutting through the air.

I feel my face contort into a silence howl. “Holy Buddha,” my inner voice squeals as the sound of the long slender bow slashing down explodes in my eardrums and the pain implodes inside my defenseless bumbags before ricocheting through my central nervous system like a pinball. “That was not fucking funny!!!”

I hang upside down panting and shaking my head as I try to gather myself. The pain is almost overwhelming but I know from long experience that I need to get it under control and prepare for the next startling stripe. I shift my body so that I am well positioned and Suzy will have the best chance of a safe delivery. I clench my fists and grit my teeth and listen for that alarming whine.

I cannot help myself. I drum my shoes on the floor and pummel the air with my fists. I have no idea whether the second stroke has landed with Miss Suzy’s legendary precision accuracy but I can assure you that right now it doesn’t matter much in my wider perspective. We are only two strokes in and I am perilously close to being totally nailed.

“It’s only whops, it’s only whops!” I continue to repeat but I am beginning to lose faith in my own mantra as the bow slices down again and sends me into another paroxysm of spastic gymnastics.

Swish, Thwack! Swish, Thwack! Swish, Thwack! The strokes land with the rhythmical pace of a metronome. Every thirty seconds my desperate entreaties to my gods, deities and thaumaturgists are rudely interrupted by the violin bow slashing across my increasingly distressed bumbags. Now all that is left is the arrival of the closer.

No matter how much I want to curl myself into a protective ball I know that I must stretch out, put it up, keep it up, suck it up and move on. Easier said than done when you are still shuddering from the effects of five consummate deliveries of a perfectly balanced cane delivered by a perfectly consummate artiste.

I hear the cane cut through the air, brace myself and wait for the arrival of Armageddon … To Be Continued

To Delay or Not To Delay … That is the Question

Today’s new extracts from ’A Life in the Day of Rosemary Booker’ finds our heroine confronted with a philosophical  spanking writer’s dilemma that has always fascinated me … whether she should take her punishment immediately or should she postpone the inevitable and enjoy a few more hours of cool-arse syndrome?

My apologies for the delay between posts, as some of you know I contracted an unfortunate health problem over Christmas and to quote a highly qualified and respected medical practitioner it kicked the crap out of me … nonetheless I am on the mend and am actually completing Volume 38 of the Woody Back to School Unit saga as we speak! I will also be commissioning Our Man in Phuket, the legendary artist and my great collaborator, Dave Ell to put down his drink and get his lazy arse out of his hammock and get back to work on the next Woody Toon (in fairness I haven’t actually sent him the brief yet but I will … So be on notice Lodgy you’re going back to work!)

As usual I have posted the full up to date pdf version of the ongoing Rosemary book in Library II as a Work in Progress … and of course it’s FREE, everything at Woodys is ABSOLUTELY FREE and ORIGINAL!!! … For those of you who have read the earlier chapters I hope you will enjoy catching up with Miss Brooks exploits, observations and trials and for visitors unfamiliar with the earlier chapters just click on the link in the library and kick-back and enjoy … My sincere gratitude to everybody who has continued to visit and the many friends who have wished me well … Bottoms Up! … RH

Chapter 15 – A Perfect Weal

The problem is that I have become addicted to chatting on-line with the Silver Fox when I am supposed to be cracking the books. Being in the sixth phase of my social rehabilitation I am extended the small comfort of a semi-private study. Since Mr Humphries took over as the Grand Master of the joint we have been granted almost permanent and unsupervised access to the net. I am not making excuses but it is considerably more fun yakking with the Foxy one than slogging through some of the drier assignments that we are set.

So far I have managed to maintain an overall ‘C’ grade but I rather fancy that this might all reach a head when I report to the music room in a few minutes.
Jojo, Nixdown and Debs reappear on the landing. Nix has a grin on her face like the cat who got the cream. I suspect that she has been successful in squeezing every juicy detail out of Jojo and Debs about their recent swishing’s. Strange gal, our Nixxy.

Deborah comes into the study to collect her books. She grins at me cheerily so I assume that she has forgiven me for having caused her to have to put it up and keep it up for six on the silks last evening.

She buckles up her satchel. “Come on slowcoach, we need to cut along,” she tells me.

I pick up my own satchel rather unenthusiastically and sling it over my shoulder and we step out onto the landing.

Deborah slips her arm into mine and chatters on incessantly about her training regime and diet as we cut across the cloisters. I listen distractedly but that is okay, when Debs is on a roll like this she’s not really looking for any interruptions.

I can’t help noticing that my tummy does an unpleasant flip-flop as we approach the music room.

Ms Scott begins the session by handing back the plastic-covered binders containing our assignments on the life and influence of Mozart. At least she hands most of them back and is extremely complimentary and enthusiastic about the quality of the work and research. I watch miserably as she wanders about handing out the binders along with her plaudits and accolades. She has passed in front of my desk twice and not even looked at me. I take this as an ominous sign.

Finally having handed out everybody else’s assignments she returns to the front of the room. One binder remains on the front desk.

“I cannot tell you how disappointed I am Miss Booker,” she begins. “You have had ten days to work on this assignment,” she points at the binder, “yet your submission is so abysmal that I have serious doubts that you have spent more than twenty minutes compiling it. The content is so thin that I find myself unable to even grade it.”

She sighs. “I’m sorry Miss Booker but you leave me no choice but to ask you to remove your blazer and step up so that I can beat you for slacking.”

I feel my face turn bright red. This was considerably worse than I thought. I had fully expected a poor grade and had steeled myself for a scolding but I had not prepared myself for the prospect of being beaten. I feel my mouth drop open and I gape at Ms Scott.

Miss Suzy Scott is a relatively new addition to the Brass. She was drafted in by the Grand Master to replace the wicked Wacky Whackster who, thankfully, is currently cooling her heels in chokey. She is actually younger than I am and as far as I can tell from our conversations she seems a more likely candidate to be an inmate than a member of staff. It has to be said that her qualifications for lecturing in music seem rather lacking. In fact, by her own admission, her musical history is limited to a brief period as the lead singer of a notably unsuccessful punk rock band. However despite her lack of knowledge regarding quavers and crotchets she is an absolute dote and we love her to death. Unfortunately she does have a particular skill that probably explains how she made it through the interview.

Suzy was first called upon to demonstrate this skill on the day of her arrival at the unit. For complicated reasons my great chum Debs felt obliged to be the first to test out the newcomers mettle. Now in Deborah’s defense Suzy Scott stands four feet ten inches tall and looks like she may weigh eighty pounds with two house bricks stuffed in her pockets. Debs had confidently predicted that Miss Suzy would not be able to whop her way out of a wet pair of bumbags. Unfortunately for Deborah she was head down, arse up across a piano stool with her skirt folded back when Miss Suzy removed her own jacket to reveal the astonishingly honed physique of a serious martial arts performer.

Over the years I have witnessed many impressive beatings and Miss Suzy’s cool and confident debut ranks amongst the best. An hour later when I put Deborah over my knee and peeled down her bumbags we were shocked and awed by what was revealed. Although Deborah had been given six of the very, very best the formation of the thrashing was so tight that it appeared that every stroke had landed exactly on top of the last. Debs poor beleugured bum was sporting what the Woody Wags now call the perfect weal. Miss Suzy Scott had become an instant Woody legend.

Chapter 16 – A Dilemma

Momentarily I feel as if my skirt and bumbags have been welded to my chair. I continue to gape at Ms Scott as I process the invitation to step up. As I say Suzy has only been at the unit a short time and has only whopped a handful of gals. I have witnessed two of these beatings and as they both involved Deborah I was given a second opportunity to inspect Suzy’s sensational handiwork. Debs who is not much given to flattery in these matters marked Suzy at nine point five for all aspects of artistic quality and technical content, and added an additional quarter point for the heat factor. These are sensational statistics and have been confirmed and validated by such Woody luminaries as Claire Brooks, Melons, and Cassie Cassy. Even the Bounder, who rarely deigns to comment on such mundane matters, agreed to make a comment on Debs blog and described her punishment by Ms Scott as one of the hottest whopping’s that she had ever experienced inside a lecture room.

I slide my chair back and unfasten the top button of my blazer. My tummy is doing back-flips. I am about to be inducted into a very select club and am not in the least bit enthused at the prospect.

As I peel off my blazer and turn to hang it across the back of my chair I see Debs waving her hand in the air.

“What is it Morton?” asks Suzy.

“With all due respect Ma’am,” says Deborah politely, “I am not sure if you are aware but Rosemary got six on the silks last night from Miss Brooks and she was slippered this morning by Miss Beck. Would it be unreasonable to ask you to allow her to file for a deferral?”

Suzy looks across at me. “Is what Miss Morton says correct?” she asks.

“Unfortunately it is Ma’am,” I acknowledge ruefully, my face getting redder by the instant. “I’ve been having a run of rum luck.”

Suzy looks thoughtful. “Now personally I having nothing against you applying for deferral Miss Booker but I can foresee some complications,” she says. “It is hardly unusual for inmates to be caned twice on the same day so it would be hard to base the application on cruel or excessive punishment. On the other hand if you wish to include last nights unfortunate incident into the equation and argue that this would be your third punishment within a twenty-four hour period then I would of course be obliged to send you upstairs to make arrangements for a mandatory public flogging. I assume that would not be a preferred option?”

Holy Buddha, this is getting worse by the second. Unappealing as bending over a piano stool and having my bumbags cut to tatters might be, the prospect of bending over a vaulting horse and being flogged in front of the assembled unit makes me feel vaguely bilious. I have been there and bought the tee shirt on three previous occasions and Suzy is right. A public flogging is not a preferred option; in fact quite frankly it is not an option at all. I finish hanging up my blazer and step out from behind the desk.

“What about a temporary postponement instead of a formal deferral?” blurts out Debs. “Why does she have to be beaten now? She’s been in seven hours of cool down since she was slippered by Miss Beck so she’s well into recovery. What harm’s a couple of hours? Why can’t you book her in for a four o’clock bender or a six o’clock swishing, she’ll be ready then. Won’t you Rosie?”

I refocus my gaping at Deborah. I am quite aware that my best chum could effortlessly qualify for membership of Mensa, nonetheless after knowing her for the past six years I have concluded that she also has quite a few bats loose in her belfry. I can assure you I will not be ‘ready’ as she so off-handedly describes it to have my bum beaten with a violin bow now, at four o’clock, six o’clock or any other o’clock.

“Miss Booker, any observations?” asks Ms Scott. “I’m sure that we could accommodate an extension to your cool down period as long as we get it dealt with and posted on the record before lockdown and close of business tonight. Any preferences?”

Oh good grief! This is ridiculous and the worst dilemma a gal could ever be faced with. Of course my first instinct is that delay is good, delay is preferable, any small interval that delays a violin bow from starting to crack down on my bumbags is desirable. Or is it?

By nature I am a fretter. I fret over everything and could fret for the Universe. The unfortunate reality is that I am destined to be beaten bandy and that by delaying the inevitable is merely subjected myself to extended period of fretting. I am unable to conjure up a single good word to say about being required to stick my bum up higher than my head for no better reason than to allow it to be drubbed with canes, straps, slippers or sundry other instruments of torture. Nonetheless there is something to be said about the immediate short sharp shock approach. Painful and unpleasant as it may be at least it’s over with. One of my least favorite aspects of corporal punishment is what the Woody Wags call ‘Waiting to be Caned’. For a major league fretter like myself the wait can sometimes seem worse than the punishment itself.

Once upon a time, many years ago, well two years ago actually; I was dispatched to Ms Lawton’s office to make arrangements to be publicly flogged. It was in the latter part of the evening and Ms Lawton decided that there was not enough time left to complete the preliminary activities such as the over-the-knee Warmer Session, being fitted for whopping bags, and all the other ancillary activities that accompany a flogging without disrupting lockdown. She instructed me that I would be flogged during the following morning assembly thereby sentencing me to a sleepless night of tossing, turning and fretting. It was my longest night.

I turn back and look bleakly at Suzy. On the one hand delay is desirable, on the other it is my worst enemy and nightmare.

Rats! Decisions, decisions, decisions! … To Be Continued

Five Red Bums Award for DJB

Our belated thanks to Damian Black for featuring our site as ’Blog of the Week’ over at the respected ’Voice in the Corner’ web-space. Blogmaestro DJB is an award winning spanking writer so his very kind observations were particularly well received … so without further ado we are pleased to award Damian the prestigious ‘Five Red Bums Award’ for contributions to the spanking community … Great Job DJ and thanks for the shout-out … Bottoms Up! … RH

Two Vanilla Spanking Nuggets

Who would have thought … two vanilla spanking nuggets in the same day!!! … I do not generally go off subject from the Woody Back to School Unit but I did come across this interesting spanking stuff while I was having a rummage through the vanilla world … first I was perusing the reputable Outrepart when I noticed this toon amongst an otherwise august collection of photography … the toon was originally featured at the Black Hands site which specializes in pictures of, well, hands (btw the pic has probably gone from the Outrepart site by now as the gallery updates itself every hour … nonetheless the site is worth a gander anyway if you’re a fan of photographic images) … Coming across one vanilla nugget is rare enough so imagine my surprise when, just a few hours later, I came across another spanking-related find at Retrospace under this post named ‘They Spanked Women in the Old Days’ … I came upon this post when I clicked on the side bar banner shown to the right … the comments on this post are quite interesting … check them out and I’ll be back with some new and original Woody stuff shortly … Bottoms Up! … RH

The Return of Miss Rosemary Booker

After several dreary months of health induced absence I have finally regained the urge to have a clatter on the keyboard and to take a punt at adding two new chapters to ’A Life in the Day of Rosemary Booker’ … For those guests who are unfamiliar with the ‘Life in the Day’ series they started off as a writing experiment and have now developed into a side project to augment the main Woody Back to School Unit saga … Writing in the first person narrative is a little challenging as I am a male top of a certain age and not a twenty-something female who is regularly on the receiving end of whops … nonetheless after receiving considerable encouragement during the writing of the first effort that featured Debs Morton, I extended the series to include narratives from Jojo and Nixdown … these three complete volumes are available for download from Library II … Writing the Rosemary story is probably the most challenging as she is the least well-defined character out of the saga’s Famous Four … nonetheless I am having enormous fun with her and my philosophy has always been that if I didn’t enjoy writing a piece I should just stop writing it … so far so good … as usual I have posted the up to date version of the ongoing work in Library II as a Work in Progress … and of course it’s FREE, everything here is FREE! … For those of you who read the earlier chapters I hope you will enjoy catching up with Miss Brooks exploits, observations and trials and for visitors unfamiliar with the earlier chapters just click on the link in the library and kick-back and enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH

Chapter 13 – A Prurient Interest

Lisa Sutton sets the tray down and starts stacking the cups next to the large tureen containing the soup of the day. According to the menu board Cassie Cassy has prepared a rich mushroom soup, which is one of her specialties. It is also one of my favorites so I reach over and grab a cup.

I shoot Lisa a sympathetic smile as I remove the lid of the tureen and ladle some of the delicious soup into the cup and place it on my tray. Lisa responds with a weak grimace.

“So how was it?” Nix asks cheerily.

Lisa scowls. “I hate that fucking spatula,” she growls and squirms her way back into the kitchen.

Nixdown and I hit the salad bar and then take our trays and find ourselves a window table.

Nicola Jane smiles. “You know, Dotty has never found the need to spank me,” she says smugly. “But she has been kind enough to lend Pen the spatula on a couple of occasions and I found the effects to be quite delightful.”

I roll my eyes. As I said earlier I have not been so fortunate. It is barely two weeks since I last took an unfortunate trip over Dotty’s knee and the sounds of Lisa being spanked in the kitchen had made me experience an unpleasant feeling of déjà vu. Only Nixdown could possibly consider the effects of the wooden spatula rebounding of her upturned arse to be delightful. Personally I subscribe to Lisa’s school of thinking. I hate that fucking spatula.

I spoon some yoghurt over my Greek salad and then fork a piece of cucumber into my mouth.

Nixdown ignores her own plate and stares at me intently.

“Well?” she asks.

“Well what?” I reply after I have finished my cucumber, although I know perfectly well what she wants to know and that I’m only postponing the inevitable.

She raises an eyebrow archly. “Oh come on Rosie, I heard you and Debs getting whopped last night,” she giggles. “It sounded like Claire thought she was beating a carpet.”

I roll my eyes in resignation. It is an exercise in futility to even try to divert the direction that this conversation is about to take. Nixdown is tenacious and she will not rest until she has squeezed every last little detail out of me.

“It felt like she was beating a carpet,” I say finally. “That gal whops too hard, she should come with a government health warning.”

Nixdown grins and picks at her own salad. She is satisfied now that she has me on the hook.

While we consume our soups and salads I indulge Nixdown’s whim and give her a detailed whop-by-whop account of the misfortunes that my poor beleaguered bum has been forced to endure over the past eighteen hours. Nix listens somberly, occasionally she interjects an appropriately sympathetic observation but I can’t help noticing the excited twinkle in her eyes. I am not suggesting that she is gloating over my misfortunes, she just has a prurient interest in such matters.

We are drinking coffee when Jojo and Debs come into the cafeteria arm-in-arm. They spot us and amble over. Jojo is looking in remarkably good spirits considering that she has only recently been treated to an epic whopping by the be-yotch Hodge.

Jojo used to be a theatrical producer before she got banged up for Extreme Ladetting. Since taking over as Grand Master at the unit Mr Humphries has encouraged us to take better advantage of our free-time than our usual habit of entertaining ourselves by indulging in a frenzy of mischief and mayhem. While he has not been entirely successful in achieving this goal we have certainly begun to distract ourselves with a number of projects. The most ambitious is project to date is Jojo’s West Side Story production which includes every inmate as either an actor, dancer or production assistant.

Jojo and Debs have just come from the Great Hall where Ginger Beckett is rehearsing some of the dance troupe. By all accounts the dancers are coming on swimmingly, which accounts for Jojo’s good humor.

I look down at my watch. Nixdown is not the only one who wishes to hear of the misadventures of my derriere. The Silver Fox will doubtless be interested to learn of the painful repercussions of our late-night cyber-chat, so I pick up my tray and make my excuses.

Considering that Jojo and Debs have both had recent encounters with fast-moving canes I suspect Nixdown will hang around while they eat lunch and pry the gory details out of them.

I stack my empty plates in the dishwasher and head off in the direction of the Phase Six landing.

Chapter 14 – Still Ripe and Steaming

When I first started to chat with the Foxy One in cyber-space I had no idea that he would turn out to be a raving spanko. We met quite innocently on a forum discussing the relative merits of herbal remedies that we were both experimenting with. He is exceptionally knowledgeable and we began to chat in private. After a period of cyber-jousting he had asked me on a real-life date. At first I made excuses but as we became closer I finally revealed my identity and explained that I was rather inconveniently detained by the government at a correctional institution. We agreed to meet for dinner when I was next let out on furlough.

Shortly before our scheduled face-to-face meeting we had arranged to go on-line to finalize the details. Unfortunately I missed our scheduled appointment due to the fact that I was otherwise engaged bending over and touching my toes for six of the best.

The caning had been a routine affair regarding tardy timekeeping. I had pitched up late for a combined blue house/red house work detail and as a result my house had incurred a fine. Unfortunately my late appearance had also put my personal demerit account into sufficient deficit to earn me a mandatory beating from the Captain of the House, Sally Poffers.

In the overall scheme of things Sally is not all that good with a cane and the actual beating had been hardly more than an inconvenience. Nonetheless, Sally is a royal be-yotch and has some tiresome traits.

Rumor has it that she spent the previous summer furlough in the company of Patty Hodge and Katie Beck being covertly trained to act as a senior officer of the Secret Sorority of Serial Spankers, aka as the SS.

Sally was an ideal candidate for the role. She is mean, devious, vain, and autocratic. It is strongly suspected that she had acted as Yvonne Godfrey’s personal snitch during Godders tyrannical reign as the Commandant of the most heinous SS in the unit’s history.

However any ambitions that Sally might have had for being inducted into the SS Hall of Shame were quickly thwarted courtesy of Lady Victoria’s lethal wood-backed hairbrush.

Victoria had made it known that she would not tolerate any secret sorority’s operating on her watch and had banned the monstrous practices of collaring, sweating and sporting spanking that had been all the rage during Operation Scorched Arse.

Sally Poffers did not have the stomach for being dangled head down arse up across Victoria’s lap to have her bum scalded with the Red-shirt’s fiery brush and resigned her commission.

Nonetheless she was still a be-yotch and on the day in question she left me standing outside the library with my hands on my head and my nose pressed to the wall for almost an hour before she deigned to turn up to cane me.

It was almost three hours before I finally got the opportunity to go on-line and apologize to the Foxy One for missing our appointment. He asked me whether I had been a naughty gal and sent up to the Warden’s office to be disciplined.

“Not exactly,” I typed in response, “but I was sent up to the library for the cane.”

“Well I always thought that you would benefit from a good spanking,” he replied, “Perhaps I’ll put you over my knee when I meet you.”

We bantered back and forth for a while along these lines but it occurred to me that he thought I was joking. After all, at that time the Snobs and Rotters Tribunal had not yet caused our bumbags to be plastered all over the air-waves, and the truth behind the austere regime at the Woody Back to School Unit remained a closely guarded secret. I insisted that I was not telling him porkies and was actually quite indignant when he continued to think that I was just joshing. I logged off in a snit.

“You should show him some evidence while your stripes are still ripe and steamy,” Debs had joked.

“Yeah, rock on, sister,” I snorted in response.

I hurry back to the study I share with Debs and logged into IM. Foxy is not around so I send him a brief and tantalizing account of my late night drubbing from Claire Brooks and my early morning rump roasting from Katie to give him something to think about until we hook up later this evening.

I study the picture of the lethal looking cane that he has purchased in preparation for our planned vacation. It occurs to me that our relationship has come a long way since I sent those first show and tell snap-shots sailing through the ether.

I idle about the study burning a couple of fags. In thirty minutes I am scheduled to repair to the music room for the first lecture of the afternoon. It is not an engagement that I must confess that I do not particularly relish … To Be Continued

Woodys is Back … Normal Service to Resume Shortly

Well that was all a bit of a mess but RH is pleased to report that I am on the road to recovery and we’re planning to resume normal services at the Woody Back to School Unit in the next few days … my thanks to everybody who has sent good wishes and to all the guests who have continued to have a good old rummage through the books, stories and cartoons available at our little home … I really hope that you have enjoyed yourselves … in the meantime here are a couple of previously unreleased works in progress Woody toons developed in collaboration with Our Man in Phuket Dave Ell (and I included the finished work just for easy of use and your enjoyment)… so kick-back and enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH