Welcome to Woody World

The Complete ‘Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber’ Available Free in PDF Format

Happy Thanksgiving to all of you wherever you are in the world. My Beloved Jojo and I are currently away from the Unit and enjoying a family celebration with the usual surfeit of hearty food and fine wine. Terribly over-indulgent I admit, but nonetheless Thanksgiving is an American tradition that I heartily endorse.

For our guests convenience I have updated this link to the Complimentary Edition of Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber so it can be quickly downloaded as a complete PDF file … it is much more eco-friendly if you print it in ‘Landscape‘ format with the ‘Two-pages-to the Sheet’ setting for your particular printer if it’s available … (Please accept my apologies for any inconvenience caused to my UK guests as the book is currently formatted for ‘US Letter’ and not ‘A4′ printing, as all my books are currently published in the US …  but hey … it is totally free!).

Anyway why don’t you run it off and then find a few quiet moments over the holiday season to kick-back and enjoy … Once again I wish y’all a Happy Thanksgiving with your family and friends … Bottoms Up! … RH

Two Previously Un-Published Woody Toon Panels – Spot the Difference

RH and My Beloved Jojo are in the throes of departing on a much-deserved family vacation. I‘m not sure what my Wi-Fi/internet capabilities will be so I may have to take a short technology-enforced sabbatical from the Unit. We do have two brand new Toons under commission from Dave Ell and these both promise to be absolute scorchers! They may be ready for the weekend but we’ll just have to see.

When these two Toon’s were actually published as part of Woody Toon 11 – Dangled in the Library they were re-edited … Let’s see if you can spot the difference … lol!

For those guests who have only recently discovered the Woody Back to School Unit a hearty welcome … while I’m away please feel free to have a good rummage around the place and familiarize yourself with the many characters that populate the Woody Community … there’s plenty to see and read.

Take the opportunity to read the complimentary Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber and then if you still want to know more about the antics of the World’s greatest mega-mixes you can cut along sharpish to the Woodettes Publication Page which gives direct access to the five volumes from the Woody Back to School Unit saga that are available for download for the very reasonable sum of $4.99 each. I have included a brief synopsis of the content of each book and of course there are thirty-five Free Preview Chapters available for your enjoyment.

Normal operations will resume shortly … so until then kick-back and enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH

The Famous Four Aftermath Toon and A Life in the Day of Debs Morton – Part 4

Today I continue my ’Life in the Day of …’ writing experiment. I have posted Part 1, Part 2 and Part 3 in the Seven Days of Woody Posts side bar … kick-back and enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH

A Life in the Day of Debs Morton – Part 4

Well it had to happen to someone. It’s a rare day that the Famous Four makes it through twenty-four hours without one or the other of us getting caned or having our bottoms whapped with one of the multitudinous instruments of torture employed by the Brass.

Unfortunately it was my turn for my number to come up on the wheel of misfortune. I can’t even blame Nixdown. This was entirely down to Madame Diderot’s notorious lack of humor and my innate inability to engage my brain before wagging my tongue.

Madame is prone to making sweeping statements regarding the prowess of the French as a military force. She was making yet another outrageous claim to this effect when it occurred to me that I had recently read a quote from a former US Undersecretary of Defense who observed that, ‘Going to war without France is like going deer hunting without an accordion’. Quite reasonably in my opinion I felt compelled to share this with Madame.

Now personally I don’t think that there should be anything wrong with interjecting an attributable quotation from an esteemed diplomat into the proceedings. Clearly Madame did not share my logical line of thinking. Before I had a chance to take defensive action she had barreled down upon me and was reaching her long bony hand across my desk. She takes a hold on my tie and yanks me to my feet in a most disagreeable manner.

She drags me across the desk until my face is inches from hers and starts to scream at me. There is nothing I can do as I am in severe danger of choking.

Madame is an extraordinary scholar and is generally wonderfully articulate but when she loses it she reverts to some form of guttural Parisian slang that is indecipherable. I speak French pretty fluently but I have difficulty following exactly what she is saying. Nonetheless you wouldn’t need to be Einstein to get the gist.

Despite the fact I am gasping for breath I desperately try to recoil. It is no secret that Madame is partial to a drop or two of absinthe and she chains smoke un-filtered Gauloises. Her breath is over-bearingly toxic. It does not help that she douses herself in some form of cheap bordello perfume more usually favored by the working girls on the la Rue Saint-Denis. Despite my best efforts she reels me in like a fish and continues to rant and rave.

Quite suddenly she releases her grip on my tie and reaches back and grabs me behind my neck. I am already off-balance so she has no difficulty in slamming me chest downwards across the wooden desk.

Now conventional wisdom may be that the perfect six of the best will take five minutes from beginning to end, but unlike the other Dames Madame has no time for elaborate set-ups or rituals, she doesn’t even get us to remove our blazers. She just flips back our skirts, tees us up and starts blazing away!

It was all over in seconds. Six hearty swipes that nearly raised me out of my shoes and if she hadn’t had a tight hold on the back of my neck I might have tumbled forward. She doesn’t waste any time with release commands either, she yanks me back up and shoves me out into the aisle. She jabs me in the back with the tip of her cane and instructs me to hurry. I totter forwards towards the front of the room like a drunken sailor on shore-leave.

I hand over my little Punishment Record Book which I am obliged to keep in the breast pocket of my blazer at all times. While she starts making her annotations I am aware of some extremely disturbing activity going on inside my bumbags. When you get a conventional caning with thirty seconds between each delivery every stroke has the opportunity to work its way through its cycle. First the flesh burn, then the electrifying sensation of the pain ricocheting around your central nervous system like a pinball, and finally the slow under-burn as it works its way into your muscles. Madame’s unconventional Speedy Gonzalez technique has a very different effect.

As I wait for her to record my beating in both my PRB and on her laptop the stripes on my poor beleaguered bum are still working through their cycles and my buttocks are twitching as the pain is now hitting the gluteus maximus muscles in a most disagreeable manner. She hands me my book and snaps at me to go and sit down and keep my lip buttoned.

I wriggle back to my desk and gingerly lower myself onto the hard wooden seat. I try to find a position that does not put excessive pressure on the stripes and try to concentrate of her discussion on the life and works of Proust.

I now have a major dilemma. I still owe Nixdown pay-back for her earlier sneaky catapult attack. If I don’t reap my revenge she will continue to gloat like a cat that has got the cream but I am now seriously disadvantaged. Goofing, larking and pranking is a risky business at the best of times but it is double risky when you’re sporting half a dozen fresh stripes in your bumbags. I shall have to shape my strategy accordingly.

The lecture progresses without further incident and when the bell rings I grab Rosemary and solicit her immediate assistance. We have a twenty-minute break so we just about have time to repair to our study for some much needed ministrations.

Despite her unconventional technique Madame Diderot is quite skilled with the cane. She never miss-hits, and rarely gives painful low riders or wraparounds. The pain in my bum is all focused on the fleshiest area which we call the sweet spot. Nonetheless, walking quickly is quite uncomfortable and as I climb the stairs I can’t help wincing as I get shooting pains as the flesh stretches the stripes.

Upstairs Rosemary collects a pot of aloe-vera and mint balm that she has concocted. She sits down on the small sofa and I stretch out face down across her lap. Very gently she turns back my skirt and peals my bumbags away from the weals. She whistles. “Whoa, good work,” she mutters, “very tight formation.” I feel her running her finger along the stripes, kneading the soothing balm into the throbbing weals.

Jojo and Nixdown stop by to inspect the damage. Now in some strata’s of society I suspect it might seem a tad queer to be stretched out across your best chums lap with your bare bum exposed to the elements while two more of your chums stare down and casually discuss the state of your arse. However in the world we inhabit this is a quite normal routine. I have had my bum inspected so many times I no longer feel even the slightest twinge of self-consciousness.

“What a be-yotch,” says Nixdown sympathetically. “It’s hardly sporting to whop a gal for making a direct quotation.”

“My thoughts exactly,” I grunt.

“Still, they all landed in the safe zone,” Jojo says knowledgeably as she leans over to inspect the weals.

I suppose I should be thankful for small mercies. The warning bell rings so I push myself up and rearrange my clobber.

“We’d better cut along sharpish,” says Jojo, “we don’t want to be late for the Dyke.”

“Certainly not in these bumbags,” I manage to joke weakly.

To be continued …

If you are enjoying the Toon Collection and the book-extracts and you have finished reading the complimentary Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber and still want to know more about the antics of the World’s greatest mega-mixes then cut along sharpish to the newly redesigned Woodettes Publication Page which gives direct access to the five volumes from the Woody Back to School Unit saga that are available for download for the very reasonable sum of $4.99 each. I have included a brief synopsis of the content of each book and of course I have kept the Free Preview Chapters available for your enjoyment.

Original Woody Toon – The Rosemary Collection

I have updated the complete Woody Toon Collection slideshow in the sidebar. I have also added a new selection called The Famous Four Collection which features some of my favorite panels starring each of the four heroines from the Woody Back to School Unit saga.

Although the saga features a huge cast of characters the core to the stories have always been centered around the adventures and misadventures of Jojo, Debs, Nixdown and Rosemary. Today’s toon features Miss Rosemary Booker.

Of the four central characters Rosemary is the most fictionalized. I have strong models and points of reference for the other three. Jojo is, of course, based upon my wife and muse and she has had considerable input into creating her fictional alter-ego. Nicola Jane Nixon, aka, Nixdown, is based upon an old friend who also collaborated on developing the personality of Nix in the stories. Debs is based on my friend’s sister Debbie. It was after I overheard her being spanked that I was first inspired to start writing spanking stories.

Rosemary is largely a figment of my imagination. For the Toons we loosely based her ‘look’ on the prominent model from the Janus days who appeared under the names Lindy and Penny.

She takes her name, the Rosemary part at least, from a young lady I once worked with. I was consulting to a large government contractor in London and Rosemary was assigned to my team as project secretary. She was an extremely amiable and jolly soul and exceptionally good at her job. Unfortunately she was a serially tardy-timekeeper. In those days we had to clock in at the gate so her late appearances were hard to disguise and at least once or twice a week she was hauled up before a particularly odious and autocratic HR Director and ‘written-up’. I was regularly called up to the HR office and told to fire or suspend her. I had no intention of doing either, besides if I had acceded to their whims I would probably have been lynched.

We had a lot of draftsmen on the boards and they were very fond of Rosemary. Not only did she have a sunny personality but she also had another prominent asset, her spectacularly shaped rear end. We were not dominated by politically correct behavior in those days and when she walked through the drawing office she was greeted by wolf-whistles and bawdy comments; all of which she took in good part. She was considered a treasure so firing her was out of the question. After one of my many forays to the HR office to listen to the director’s bureaucratic pontifications I joked with her that maybe a damn good spanking would cure her of her problem with punctuality. She just beamed cheerfully and chuckled. We could talk to each other like that back in the day!

Rosemary’s character in the stories just kind of evolved and beneath the toon I have posted a brief extract from Volume 22 – The Man from Berlin which gives a little background to the character that has developed.

Just a note about the Toon collections, they are Powerpoint slideshows and may be a little slow to download. However I think you’ll find it worth a couple of minutes as I think when they are all put together the Toon’s look rather splendid. To view them in full-screen mode just press the F5 key and use page down to scroll through them.

I shall be back later with Part 4 of the Life in the Day of Debs Morton series which is proving to be quite successful judging by the amount of views … in the meantime it’s Sunday so time for some mimosa’s and Bloody Mary’s … kick back and enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH.

 

 

Rosemary Bookers distinctive derriere had first come to prominence when she was cast as Bottom the Weaver in an all-girl production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. A local newshound who attended the production had dubbed her the ‘Rear of the Year’ and within days Miss Bookers bum was a national obsession.

At the time Rosemary was struggling to establish her ‘Bookers Balms’ business on the internet and any free publicity came in handy. Shrewdly she flashed her luscious orbs at every opportunity, posing for several calendars and signing a lucrative endorsement agreement with a fashionable jeans designer. Her fan-base bought her balms like hot cakes and within months she was up to her lugs in lolly.

Rosemary’s jolly demeanor and fabulous rear end made her a popular guest on morning chat-shows where she would cheerfully bend over for the cameras and display the logo ‘Bookers Bum’ across the seat of her jeans.

Young, rich and cheerful, Rosemary was a staple diet for the gossip rags. Her successful on-line company attracted the attention of the Forsham-Smythe Empire who specialized in fiscal intimidation and financial skullduggery. The crooked lawyer, Mr Armanisuit was dispatched to tempt her to sell-out in exchange for a wheel-barrow loaded with quids. However, Rosemary was alarmed to discover that the Forsham-Smythe’s planned to reduce her strict quality control procedures and flood the third-world market with bogus balms. She rejected the offer and sent Armanisuit off with a flea in his ear. Melissa Forsham-Smythe was furious.

Rosemary’s was voted as ‘Young Internet Entrepreneur of the Year,’ for her innovative environmentally friendly, low-cost, high quality range of products. At the awards ceremony she agreed to put her famous behind to charitable use and participated in a televised sponsored spanking that raised squillions for the under-privileged.

Thwarted in her efforts to purloin Rosemary’s business Melissa mobilized her Dark Agents to lurk in the shadows and keep her under ob’s twenty-four-seven. However, despite her gregarious public persona Rosemary was a quiet soul and generally avoided the party scene. Melissa wrang her hands and gnashed her teeth.

Following the very public arrest of Debs Morton on the center court of Wimbledon, Rosemary appeared on a popular chat show and described the anti-Ladette laws as ‘just plain daft’. At the time the media arm of the Forsham-Smythe Empire had embarked on a scurrilous anti-Debs campaign at the behest of the embattled government. As usual the politico’s had indulged in acts of fiscal folly and needed to distract the Great Unwashed. In an act of malice Melissa personally authored a series of editorials falsely accusing Rosemary of supporting Deborah, who her newspapers had taken to calling ‘the face of National disgrace’.

The Great Unwashed are a fickle bunch and demanded an enquiry. Rosemary received a summons to appear before a hearing of the System to explain her position. Her lawyers assured her that it was a mere formality.

On the morning of the hearing Rosemary over-slept and was awoken by the sound of Dark Agents kicking down the door of her apartment. She was dragged out of bed and handcuffed. She was hauled down the street in her pajamas with Melissa’s camera-men snapping away. She was charged with bringing the System into disrepute and dragged off to a local haberdasher to be fitted for clobber.

Melissa Forsham-Smythe purchased Bookers Balms at an unadvertised auction for three bob on the quid.

Feel free to read the complimentary Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber and then if you still want to know more about the antics of the World’s greatest mega-mixes then cut along sharpish to the newly redesigned Woodettes Publication Page which gives direct access to the five volumes from the Woody Back to School Unit saga that are available for download for the very reasonable sum of $4.99 each. I have included a brief synopsis of the content of each book and of course I have kept the Free Preview Chapters available for your enjoyment.

Woodys Hits 150,000 and A Life in the Day of Debs Morton – Part 3

Astonishingly at 12:33 this lunch-time the visitor counter at the Woody Back to School Unit moved passed 150,000. I would like to take this opportunity to thank everybody who has visited the site and also everybody in the blogging community who has been kind enough to add links to the Unit.

Today I continue my Day in the Life writing experiment. I have posted Part 1 and Part 2 in the ‘Seven Days of Woodys’ sidebar … its Saturday, time for a cold Heineken, so kick-back and enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH

A Life in the Day of Debs Morton – Part 3

Momentarily my heart misses a beat as Ms Gascoigne spins around and glares at us. “If I catch any of you causing a distraction I shall feel compelled to beat you,” she says in a mildly threatening tone.

You can’t say fairer than that. I glare at Nixdown. She smirks and winks at me. Earlier in the morning she had launched a tightly constructed pellet with her catapult and caught me painfully on my bare thigh. She clearly thinks that she is one up on me. I am fuming and badly want revenge, but I need to be very wary. The last thing that I want is another beating from Pauline.

We may be tight but that won’t stop her from bending me over my desk and absolutely creaming me if she thinks I need it. Only last week she gave me a reminder of her remarkable artistry with the cane and it was a very painful and disagreeable experience. I slide my pea-shooter back in my satchel. I will wait for a better opportunity. Now that Ms Gascoigne’s radar has been alerted she will be watching us like a hawk.

Fifteen minutes before the bell rings to signal the end of the lecture I raise my hand and ask to be excused. I am scheduled for kitchen duty and need to cut along sharpish.

One of the major improvements Mr Humphries has implemented since taking over as Grand Master of the Unit is to fire the third-party caterers and put Dotty Hammell and Cassie Cassy in charge of the kitchens. They are both world renowned chefs and have transformed the fare served up at the unit from tasteless gruel to a healthy and balanced diet.

I hurry through the corridors. I have no intention of being late again and suffering a repeat performance of a recent unpleasant incident. A few weeks ago I foolishly pitched up ten minutes late for duty. Dotty Hammell is a sweetie and she is the doyen of the Liberal Left of the Brass. Nonetheless, she runs the kitchen like a military operation and the one thing she will not tolerate is tardy time-keeping. She marched me across the kitchen, put me over her knee and gave me a damn good spanking with her favorite Peruvian wooden spoon. Apparently she found this spoon when she was touring the Northern Andes. It is made from petrified wood and is extremely potent. She likes to land each spank one on top of the other. She might find this an amusing trick but I sure as hell don’t! She spanks very fast and very hard so my bum is absolutely scorching when she returns me to the upright.

I don’t know what got into me but when she turned her back I stuck out my tongue and blew a raspberry at her. She must have eyes in the back of head because before I knew it I was back head down, arse up over her knee. She yanked back my skirt and to my horror she dragged down my bumbags! Despite my protests she began to whap me with a wooden spatula.

I can’t help myself, my legs began to kick spastically and my fists pummeled the air. This innocuous looking utensil is an absolute killer. She’s spanked me with it once before but at least I had the protection of my bumbags. On the bare the spatula seems to weld itself to my flesh and then suck the skin off when she retracts it. On top of an already well-spanked bum this is excruciating. Not to mention that having my bare bum exposed to a kitchen filled with gawking gals is more than a tad undignified.

Once we were finished she had another unpleasant surprise for me. I had been designated to serve table in the Grand Master’s private dining room where he was entertaining Christopher Brooks, the Minister for Extreme Social Rehabilitation. She obviously did not consider a sizzling hot bottom as reason to relieve me of my duties.

The Grand Master and his guest were polite enough not to pass comment but you wouldn’t need to be Hercule Poirot to detect the signs that I’m sporting a red hot bottom. I was very stiff-legged and my bum was wriggling and squirming uncontrollably. I did my best to be polite and efficient but I was awfully relieved when it was all over and I was able to limp upstairs to our study and have Rosemary soothe my scalding arse with her mystical balms.

Fortunately today I arrive at the kitchen with time to spare. I check the roster and see that I have been assigned to assist Cassie at the soup station. I go into the changing area and put on a blouson, cargo baggies and tie my hair up under a beanie before returning to the kitchen and start to chop mushrooms.

Cooking with Cassie is always fun. She may be a complete ditz most of the time but she is unbelievable in the kitchen. I am one of seven assistants on duty and she flits between the work-stations giving out little tips as we prepare a wide array of tasty soups and colorful salads. I was never much of a cook before Mr Humphries introduced the self-sufficiency program but I’m really beginning to enjoy it, especially when I’m not distracted by smoke billowing out of my bumbags!

Thankfully I get through kitchen duty without any unpleasant incident and next it’s off to the music chamber. As you might know the Music Chamber has been the venue of several unpleasant incidents in the past. For the first few years of my sentence I had a pretty good relationship with the Dame in charge of Music, Ms Whitton. I sing in the choir and play clarinet in the orchestra and although she caned me occasionally it was all pretty routine. All that would change due to an embarrassing incident known to the Woody Wags as ‘the Incident of the Fabulous Fart’. I shall not dwell on this unfortunate episode lest to say I went straight to the top of Ms Whitton’s shit-list without passing go or collecting two-hundred squids!

Ms Whitton was a spiteful cove and laid siege to my bumbags. For almost a year she bent me over the piano stool and beat me with a violin bow at every opportunity. And not just any old violin bow I might add. She was completely batty and actually commissioned some punter down in Brazil to make a custom bow and even had the ‘Morton Special’ engraved down the shaft.

Eventually my chums staged an intervention and Jojo reported Ms Whitton to the Grand Master. Mr Humphries is a fair guy and listened to both sides. He believed me and Jojo and Nix and Rosemary’s version of events and unbelievably he had Ms Whitton arrested and carted off in bracelets by the local Plod. She is currently languishing in chokey where she doubtless spends her days having vengeful thoughts about my bumbags.

After Ms Whitton was hauled off the Grand Master employed Miss Suzy Scott as her replacement. Now Suzy is an absolute dote and we love her to death but it has to be said that lecturing on the rudiments and theory of music was not her strong suit. In fact she has confessed to me in private that her musical experience was limited to fronting an exceptionally unsuccessful punk-rock band. Nonetheless she does have one quite extraordinary talent.

Suzy Scott stands four-feet ten-inches in her stockinged feet and looks like she might weigh eighty pounds with two bricks in her pockets. She wears big baggy jackets and on first impression she looks like she couldn’t whop her way out of a paper bag. This is rather deceiving as I discovered to the severe detriment of my bumbags.

For some reason I felt duty bound to test out the mettle of the new Dame and joshed and japed her until she finally resorted to beating me. I sauntered cockily up to the front of the chamber and took up position across the piano stool. I was expecting a few light flicks across the bumbags and something to chortle about later with my chums.

Unbeknownst to me Miss Suzy Scott is a champion kick-boxer and martial arts expert. When she shrugged off her jacket my chums were treated to the sight of her honed and toned physique. She is a veritable miniature super-woman!

I was completely unprepared for the power of the first whop. It nearly cut me in two. Worse was still to come. Suzy has an uncanny ability to land every stroke one on top of the other. The effect is over-whelming and I’m ashamed to say I opened up my lungs and howled!

Ms Scott didn’t last long as a teaching Dame. Mr Humphries elevated her to the position of Head of Operations. Nonetheless she did hold the position long enough to beat me on two more occasions. These were both hot and sweaty experiences and confirmed her reputation as a true artiste with the cane.

After Ms Scott was promoted Mr Humphries put Maestra Tatyana Kerimov on the payroll. I had first encountered Tatyana a decade earlier when I was a member of the National Youth Orchestra and we were lucky enough to be invited to Russia to play at the legendary Conservatory. She was the musical director and one of the few female conductors in the world. It was also rumored that she had studied at the Dzerzhinsky Academy for the KGB. I was delighted by the news that Tatyana was coming to the unit.

Now it has to be said Maestra is something of a queer-cove. She wears this ankle-length monk’s shroud and keeps the hood up most of the time so you can’t see what she is looking at. She walks with a noticeable limp and uses a long ornately carved wooden staff for support. She looks like a cross between Rasputin and Darth Vader. Nonetheless she is a brilliant tutor and has spent hours of her free-time talking to me about conducting and rehearsing me on new pieces on the clarinet.

Unfortunately my unruly behavior has twice prompted her to invite me to step up to the front of the chamber and fold myself over the piano stool. I don’t know whether the KGB give their agents whop-training but if they do there’s no doubt that Tatyana would have graduated top of her year. That woman really knows how to whop!

On the way to the chamber I meet up with Nixdown. She is cheerful and chatty but I can tell that she is feeling smug about her earlier sneak attack. I am determined to reap some pay-back but I’m equally determined not to do anything rash that will result in me taking another trip across the piano stool.

I select a seat one row behind Nix and over to her left. If I see an opportunity I am perfectly placed and there will be little she can do to retaliate without making it obvious. Nixdown will be aware of my strategic positioning and even if an opportunity fails to present itself she will spend the whole lecture feeling anxious. Serves her right, my leg still smarts!

Tatyana is an expert on Russian composers and she is waxing eloquent on the life of Mikhail Glinka. It is interesting stuff and I quickly become absorbed in the lecture. Perhaps I shall leave my revenge on Nixdown until later. It would be a crying shame to interrupt the interesting proceedings with a distracting six of the best.

When the bell rings it occurs to me that we have now got through five complete lectures without any of us being required to bend over. Nixdown got shown a yellow card earlier this morning but since then we’ve hardly even attracted a scolding between us. This is highly unusual. Jojo, Nixdown, Rosemary and I are known as the Famous Four and have a well-deserved reputation for our accomplishments in the world of mega-minxdom. We are actually quite a studious bunch and are very competitive when it comes to maintaining high grades. Nonetheless, the lecture rooms are ideal venues for some serious goofing, joshing and pranking and it is a rare day when one or the other of us doesn’t end up pointing our bum’s skywards.

I look at my timetable. We are scheduled for a French tutorial with Madame Diderot, which is always an interesting experience, so I’m going to cut along and I’ll let you know how I get on. Ciao for now.

If you are enjoying the Toon Collection and the book-extracts and you have finished reading the complimentary Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber and still want to know more about the antics of the World’s greatest mega-mixes then cut along sharpish to the newly redesigned Woodettes Publication Page which gives direct access to the five volumes from the Woody Back to School Unit saga that are available for download for the very reasonable sum of $4.99 each. I have included a brief synopsis of the content of each book and of course I have kept the Free Preview Chapters available for your enjoyment.

Scorching New Woody Toon 20 … Bend Over Booker

Poor Rosemary falls foul of the Yvonne Godfrey the evil Goddess of Thrashing!

Here’s another great example of Dave Ell’s talent at interpreting a brief and illustrating it in just four panels … awesome and great spanking fun!

A hearty welcome to the new guests to the Woody Back to School Unit  and my appreciation to the legendary Chross over at Chross Spanking Resources for including us in his weekly round-up.

My apologies for this brief post but I am still up to my lugs in work. Nonetheless for the rest of you it’s the weekend so kick-back … pour a glass of vino and enjoy the cartoon and then have a rummage around the site … Bottoms Up! … RH

 

 

Just the usual polite reminder that Woodettes Publications purchased these illustrations along with the copyright. I have no objection to other sites using them as long as they are accompanied by appropriate acknowledgment to the source.

Feel free to read the complimentary Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber and then if you still want to know more about the antics of the World’s greatest mega-mixes then cut along sharpish to the newly redesigned Woodettes Publication Page which gives direct access to the five volumes from the Woody Back to School Unit saga that are available for download for the very reasonable sum of $4.99 each. I have included a brief synopsis of the content of each book and of course I have kept the Free Preview Chapters available for your enjoyment.

Sensational New Woody Toon 19 … Spanked in the Kitchen

A Peruvian Wooden Spoon formed from petrified wood found only in the Northern Mountains of the Andes! A skin-sucking spatula found only in the the dollar bins at Wal-Mart! Spanking tools are Universal! Just keep ya eyes skinned and you never know where they might present themselves.

Here’s another example of Dave Ell’s talent at interpreting a brief and illustrating it in just four panels … awesome and great spanking fun! The full story can be found at A Spanking in the Kitchen … so if you love the toon go and read the story … it’s nearly the weekend so kick-back … pour a glass of vino and enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH

 

 

Just the usual polite reminder that Woodettes Publications purchased these illustrations along with the copyright. I have no objection to other sites using them as long as they are accompanied by appropriate acknowledgment to the source.

Feel free to read the complimentary Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber and then if you still want to know more about the antics of the World’s greatest mega-mixes then cut along sharpish to the newly redesigned Woodettes Publication Page which gives direct access to the five volumes from the Woody Back to School Unit saga that are available for download for the very reasonable sum of $4.99 each. I have included a brief synopsis of the content of each book and of course I have kept the Free Preview Chapters available for your enjoyment.

It’s Time for Six of the Best … A Woody Toon Teaser

Just a little teaser from the forthcoming Woody Toon 20. Two new Toons are scheduled for the weekend so mark your calendars …Unfortunately work obligations once again distract me from the more important things in life but have a rummage around the site, there’s lots to read and peruse so kick-back and enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH

Feel free to read the complimentary full version of Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber available in the sidebar and then if you still want to know more about the antics of the World’s greatest mega-mixes then cut along sharpish to the newly redesigned Woodettes Publication Page which gives direct access to the five volumes from the Woody Back to School Unit saga that are available for download for the very reasonable sum of $4.99 each. I have included a brief synopsis of the content of each book and of course I have kept the Free Preview Chapters available for your enjoyment.

A Life in the Day of Debs Morton – Part 2

The Morning Lectures

Arm-in arm Rosemary and I cut through the corridors on our way to the lecture rooms. Thankfully, this morning, we have managed to skate safely through the minefield of the Early Morning Rituals and are both sporting cool arses. This is a blessing, as let me tell you there is nothing worse than the prospect of having to lower a red and burning bum down onto a hard unyielding wooden seat for hours on end. But, needless to say, there are still many potential hazards for our bumbags ahead of us.

I take my seat and place my satchel on the floor between the legs of the desk. While leaning down to retrieve my books and papers I also palm the hot-pink plastic Pisrool derringer water-pistol that I recently acquired on eBay and slip it into my blazer pocket. It’s not much use for long-range action but it comes in handy as emergency back-up. A gal always needs to be prepared.

I put out my books and scan the day’s schedule. There is not much to be said in favor of being banged up for seven years in a Government Correctional Institute but I am kind of bookish by nature and I have to admit that the academic programs that Ms Lawton put in place are exemplary.

Our first lecture is with Ms Sills, she’s the Dame in charge of English Literature. She is a specialist in the Sixteenth Century sonnets which are particular favorites of mine. She is quite young, only a few years older than me and is generally minx-friendly. She encourages healthy and open discussions and allows a reasonable amount of joshing during her lectures. Therein lies the problem, I spend all day in the lecture rooms with my best chums and mega-minxes Jojo, Rosemary and Nixdown and we are not always the best judges of where ‘reasonable’ ends and ‘excessive’ begins. Not to say that Ms Sills isn’t scrupulously fair. She generally gives a verbal warning and will follow up with a yellow card. This should be fair warning to watch your p’s and q’s but it doesn’t always work out that way.

Ms Sills may not be one of the strictest of disciplinarians but when she does choose to reach for the twig, boy, she canes hard! So I shall err on the side of caution.

This morning we are discussing Astrophel and Stella, the poem composed by Sir Philip Sidney. Nixdown, who for some reason knows about such things, insists that the sonnets were written about Lady Penelope Rich, a renowned beauty from the Court of Elizabeth the First. According to Nix Lady Pen was a bit of a bed-hopper and Nixdown insisted on interrupting the proceedings with very amusing but quite lewd tit-bits of information about Her Ladyship. At first Ms Sills chuckled indulgently but shortly she politely asked Nix to pipe down so we could get on with the job on hand. When Nix ignored the warning Ms Sills resorted to showing her a yellow card which caused Nix to pout and look rather sulky.

Despite Nixdown’s rather colorful penchant for late-night recreational spanking she makes it very clear that she has absolutely no taste for formal punishment. In fact even the threat of it tends to make her rather belligerent and when Nixdown is being belligerent she is rather unpredictable and liable to start a rumpus. I hope that she doesn’t starting acting the bollocks as I am rather enjoying the sensation of having an unscathed bum perched comfortably on my seat but I shall keep a weather eye on the situation.

Fortunately she just sits and pouts and we get through a very enjoyable and enlightening lecture without anybody being required to touch their toes at the front of the room or being sent upstairs for a bare bender.

Next up we have maths with Reed the Weed. Now this can be a very dodgy proposition indeed. I have no idea how the Weed managed to get herself on the payroll as unlike the rest of the Brass she can’t whop her way out of a wet paper-bag.

I don’t really care for maths and find it a bit of a slog. I have to really work hard to maintain good grades. It has to be said that the Weed is actually a very good tutor but she has difficulty maintaining control. It is considered fine sport to ‘Jape the Weed’ and many of her lectures quickly deteriorate into a state of pandemonium.

When I first started my sentence the Weed still thought she was in the discipline game. During my Brat Year she put me over her knee and spanked me on several occasions. It was comical and she might as well have used a wet ear of lettuce. During the second phase of my sentence she caned me once or twice. It was pathetic really, barely enough power to generate more than a few seconds of tingling. Then somewhere during the piece she resorted to a new tactic. Doubtless prompted by the Be-yotch Patty Hodge she quit trying to hand out whops herself and resorted to reaching for her red card.

Being shown a red card in the lecture room means a trip upstairs to the principal’s office and results in an almost guaranteed bare bender with the senior cane. Serious business!

Nonetheless ‘Japing the Weed’ is such divine fun we often forget the stakes and indulge our love of minxdom. I don’t know who started it this morning. Nixdown I suspect, who was still grumpy over the yellow card she had been shown by Ms Sills, but soon pellets, peas and squirts of water were flying about the room. Pandemonium has ensued.

Of course we are skilled and experienced in such shenanigans and are activities are covert and our attacks only carried out when the Weed’s back is turned. I am beaned several times on the head and get a lug-full of coldwater that is most unpleasant. I respond of course, emptying my derringer before reaching into my satchel and retrieving my favorite seventeen centimeter long vintage tinplate pea shooter that I acquired at an on-line auction. The literature that accompanied it promised improved power and accuracy up to six yards, so it seemed ideal for this mission. I fill my mouth with dried peas and wait for an opportunity for some pay-back.

Miraculously the Weed seems immune to the chaos going on behind her back and our private war goes unnoticed. The bell rings to announce the end of the lecture and I quite reasonably expect a ceasefire. Just as I am about to put my trusty shooter back in its hiding place I am startled by a terrible sting in my upper right thigh. I have to grit my teeth to suppress a squeal. Once I open my eyes and get my breath back it is too late. The culprit has secreted her weapon and all be chums are beaming cheerfully at what fun we have had. This is war!

The trouble with outbreaks of hostilities so early in the day is that we have many more lectures to get through and the next one is particularly fraught with danger as we have geography with Ms Wharton.

Ms Wharton, or the Wart as she is generally known, is an odious creature. She is a bully and a Whop Junkie and a fully paid up member of the Radical Right. She is universally despised. She is Patty Hodge’s loyal sycophant and revels in having one of the highest whop-rates amongst the Brass.

I have been caned by the Wart on more occasions than I care to recall. The thing with the Wart is that it can be a hit or miss affair. She is over-zealous and sometimes she is so intent to cut your bumbags to tatters that she miss-fires and only gives glancing blows. On the other hand her lack of control can cause her to give painful wraparounds or low riders. Nonetheless it is always a disagreeable affair.

The Wart is partial to drop or three of the strong stuff and I suspect that she starts on the tequila slammers a little early in the day. She rarely bothers with verbal warnings or yellow cards preferring to snatch up her cane at the first opportunity. Once you are invited to step up to the front of the room your ordeal has only just begun. The Wart likes to lean her face into you while she screams barbed vitriolic. Her breath is truly appalling and her language is vile. It is a most disagreeable experience.

The Wart likes us to bend over and touch our toes. Of course this is the most unfavorable and difficult pose to maintain. The protocols dictate that our fingers must touch the tips of our shoes throughout a caning and that if we ‘jerk’ the stroke may be disqualified and repeated. Most of the Brass ignore this nonsense as long as we get back in position quickly. Not the Wart. We Woody Wags often joke “when is six not six? When it’s counted by the Wart”. We are witty like that.

I am hoping that an unspoken amnesty will prevail as spending time with the lunatic GeoDame is dangerous enough without us continuing our covert little battle. I fix Nix with a warning glare and she just grins and winks at me.

It is a nerve-wracking thirty-five minutes but somehow a state of détente manages to prevail and the Wart actually has quite a few interesting things too say on the subject of the influence of Chinese investment on emerging national economies. I am relieved when the bell rings. I have managed to get through three lectures without a single scolding, verbal warning or yellow card.

Our final lecture of the morning is with my old friend and favorite Dame, Pauline Gascoigne. She tutors us in advanced economics and is about the only person I know who can make even the dry theories of Melanie Klien sound vaguely interesting. She is twenty-nine years old, just three years older than I am and I have known her for over a decade and a half.

We schooled together at the Queensgate Academy and I helped ran the campaign to have her elected as the Head Prefect, or the President of Posh, as she was known. This was a rather unfortunate period of my life and despite our friendship she was required to whop (or pop as we called it), nineteen times. Oh well as the adage goes, “better to be beaten by someone you know than someone you don’t”, and I still considered her a close chum.

I am hoping that the spirit of détente will continue. Everybody loves Pauline and we generally don’t make life too hard for her. Nonetheless, between lectures I have reloaded my derringer and will be vigilant in watching for sly and unprovoked ambushes. I’ll let you know how it goes …

If you are enjoying the Toon Collection and the book-extracts and you have finished reading the complimentary Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber and still want to know more about the antics of the World’s greatest mega-mixes then cut along sharpish to the newly redesigned Woodettes Publication Page which gives direct access to the five volumes from the Woody Back to School Unit saga that are available for download for the very reasonable sum of $4.99 each. I have included a brief synopsis of the content of each book and of course I have kept the Free Preview Chapters available for your enjoyment.

A Running Bender

Encouraged by a respectable viewing of the first installment of ‘A Life in the Day of Debs Morton’ I have decided to plough on with my writing experiment … and hopefully will have Part 2 ready over the next few days … I’m working with Dave Ell on two new great cartoons for the weekend so it’s a busy week at the unit … meanwhile have a good rummage around the site … there’s lots to see and read … Bottoms Up! … RH

If you are enjoying the Toon Collection and the book-extracts and you have finished reading the complimentary Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber and still want to know more about the antics of the World’s greatest mega-mixes then cut along sharpish to the newly redesigned Woodettes Publication Page which gives direct access to the five volumes from the Woody Back to School Unit saga that are available for download for the very reasonable sum of $4.99 each. I have included a brief synopsis of the content of each book and of course I have kept the Free Preview Chapters available for your enjoyment.

Jojo Sets a Woody Record, and a Life in the Day of Debs Morton

My Beloved Jojo is not sure whether to be flattered or dismayed at the massive response to our newest Woody Toon 18 featuring her being publicly flogged. The Toon has received a record-breaking number of hits over the past thirty-six hours! I assured that she should take this as a compliment but she gave me one of her Jojo looks so I shall return to writing and cut down on the philosophizing.

Writing spanking stories should never be a chore, so I have elected to invoke my writer’s prerogative to elect to change, edit or even abandon a project. I started writing a series ‘A Life in the Day of a Woody Inmate’ but for some reason I found it a chore. I have decided to completely re-write the post as I didn’t think it was much fun, or particularly good, and writing the follow-up was giving me a serious dose of the pip.

I thought it would work better if I tried to write a series through the eyes of each of the Famous Four. I have decided to start with Debs Morton as I have been writing about her for so long. If I’m having fun I’ll work my way through the various perspectives of Jojo, Nix and Rosemary, who all have radically different personalities and characteristics. Of course this is just an experiment and could quickly go pear-shaped on me as I face the small challenge that these are young women in their mid-twenties and I do not meet any of those criteria. But anyway, what the hell, here goes … I hope you enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH

A Life in the Day of Debs Morton – Part 1 – The Early Morning Rituals

My alarm clock goes off at five-forty five, rudely jolting me out the land of nod. I don’t know how my room-mate Rosemary sleeps through it, but she doesn’t even blink an eyelid. I consider hitting the snooze button and catching another five minutes of zee’s but decide against it. I am scheduled to meet my coach, Jane Lummell, at six and not unreasonably she gets a tad shirty if she has bothered to climb out of her scratch at the crack of dawn and then has to wait around because I’m late. On several occasions she has put me over her knee and slippered me for tardy time-keeping and I’d rather avoid starting my day with a sore bottom.

I swing my legs off the bed and pad across the room trying not to disturb Rosie. I look out of the window of our study; it looks a little fresh outside. The dew is still glistening on the Sussex Downs so I grab a singlet, running shorts and a track-suit top. I lace up my running shoes and head for the door. Rosemary is still sleeping blissfully. Lucky gal!

There is nobody about at this time of the morning so I can trot down the corridors and take the stairs two at a time without any danger of being caught by a member of the Elite and sent up to the library for six of the best.

I stop by the cafeteria. Cassie Cassy is already up and about and organizing the kitchen roster on her laptop. She grins at me and tells me that she’s made the coffee. No matter what time of day it is, morning, noon or night, Cassie is always bright and cheerful and has a wonderfully demented grin. We love her to death but there are clear signs that she might well be certifiably barking. I pour some coffee and add an espresso shot. I drink it quickly and head off to meet Jane.

Ms Lummell is waiting by the stables but fortunately I’m on time so we don’t need to worry about a slippering. We are going to run four miles around the inside of the perimeter of the compound and we set off at a healthy trot.

Over the years Jane and I have become quite tight. I am very grateful to her for all the time and effort she has voluntarily donated to keep me in shape. She is not really a tennis coach but she has been amazing and between her and my old chum and fellow tennis pro, Rachel Cox, they have kept me at the top of my game. Hopefully I’ll be ready to make a comeback on the Grand Prix circuit when I finally finish my sentence.

Not that Jane cuts me any slack or extends me any favors because of our special relationship. In fact it often seems to be quite the opposite. Just a few weeks ago she caught me swinging on a rope in the gymnasium when there wasn’t a safety mat in place. She wasted no time in instructing me to lower a training beam and bend over so that she could whap my butt with one of her over-sized plimsolls. She said it was a health and safety issue but she didn’t seem the least bit concerned about the health and safety of my poor beleaguered bum.

On one occasion we were hosting a table tennis game at the facility against a local team. The visiting team was our fiercest rival and whoever won would go top of the league. I had just finished playing and had managed to win a close game. I retired to the bleachers to watch Rachel playing another crucial match.

I should know better of course but while a point was in play I leaned over and whispered something in Rosemary’s ear. Ms Lummell, who was umpiring, was furious and although she didn’t address me directly she instructed the audience to remain silent during play. She did give me a withering look.

Gawd knows why but during the next point I repeated my impolite behavior and she combusted. She bustled up into the bleachers and yanked me out of my seat. She hustled me out of the gymnasium towards the office she kept in the changing room. I was mortified.

I was in absolutely no doubt that she intended to haul me into the office, bend me over the desk and pummel my gymshorts with her formidable slipper. Of course everybody in the gymnasium would be able to hear.

We had barely got through the swing doors to the changing rooms when she had a change of heart. She span me around and hauled me back into the gym. She dragged me over to the table tennis table and slammed me face down. She borrowed a table tennis bat and proceeded to give me six very hearty spanks in front of our startled guests!

Worst was still to come. She insisted that I stay around and play the final game of the evening. Although I’m proud to say that I did actually win it was all rather embarrassing. So as you can see … No slack for Debs from my tennis coach!

We finish our run and then spend another thirty minutes doing floor exercises like crunches and push-ups. By seven o’clock I’m ready to hit the shower.

As I cross the quadrangle on my way back to the quarter’s wing the campus is slowly beginning to come to life. There are a few early-risers loitering about in the cloisters and sitting on the edge of the fountain, drinking coffee and sucking down on an early morning fag. Back in Ms Lawton’s day this was illegal as there was a smoking ban but since Mr Humphries took over as Grand Master he has relaxed some of the more draconian rules. I exchange nods and early morning pleasantries and cut along to the House to get ready for the upcoming day.

On my way up to our study I stop off at my laundry pigeon-hole. I always get a slight tightening in my stomach as I approach the pick-up spot. Every night we are required to hand-in our blouses, socks and bumbags for laundering. According to the protocols known as ‘The Politics of Clobber’ all articles of clothing must be submitted in pristine condition. Unfortunately I am what is known amongst the Woody Wags as ‘Clobber-Challenged’.

I’m not exactly a ragamuffin or a hobo but I certainly won’t be included on any of the best-dressed lists. My good chum Nixdown Nixon says it’s because I only buy ‘catalogue crap’ that isn’t designed to last. Of course Nixdown comes from well-heeled chaps and she has a personal Clobber Consultant and her blouses, ties, gymslips and blazers are custom tailored out of exotic and expensive fabrics.

In my opinion the ‘Politics of Clobber’ are ridiculous but long-ago Katie Beck managed to get them written into the Woody Charter and has worked assiduously to make them increasingly onerous at every opportunity.

Of course Katie Beck is a Be-yotch of the first order. When I started my sentence she was an inmate and had managed to claw and scratch her way to the role of Red-shirt. She operated an evil and crooked regime and surrounded herself with a group of sycophants known as ‘The Secret Sorority of Serial Spankers’. She was greatly despised so it was hugely unpopular when she persuaded Ms Lawton to allow her to return to the unit in the role of Matron with full thrashing rights.

There have been numerous mornings when I have looked in my pigeon-hole and instead of finding my freshly laundered clobber I am confronted with an acerbic note from Katie instructing me to, ‘Cut along sharpish to my office to answer to charges of clobber abuse’.

Clobber Abuse is a rather harsh term considering we are talking about minor blemishes, nicks, hanging threads, chipped or discolored buttons or anything else that Katie deems to be unreasonable signs of wear and tear. Unfortunately the ‘Politics of Clobber’ protocols are over twenty pages long and she has trained her Clobber Inspectors well. It is widely suspected that she pays them bonuses for every item of clobber that they report to be found in an abusive condition.

Hiding behind the safety of the protocols Katie knows that she has the upper-hand takes the opportunity to make an early-morning visit to her office a most disagreeable experience.

She sits behind her desk dressed in her skin-tight white uniform, unbuttoned to show off her boobs with her coprophagic grin on her puss. She waves the garments at you and embarks of some lengthy diatribe about the cost to the State of providing us with clobber and our lack of responsibility. Actually this is complete bs as the cost of my incarceration is funded by the dosh that the System seized from me when I was sentenced. Nonetheless it is pointless arguing with Katie so we just roll our eyes and try to ignore her.

After she has finished venting her spleen she proceeds to subject us to a full bib-down, tie-back clobber inspection. This is a most disconcerting experience as she circles you inspecting every button, hem and seam for further signs of clobber abuse. She likes to cluck her tongue while she works and mutter ominously, “Well, well, what have we here?” It is often difficult to resist the temptation to hack her in the shins. Needless to say if she discovers more infringements of the protocols she is at liberty to increase your punishment. For a clobber-challenged gal like me this can be a tense few minutes.

The standard punishment for clobber abuse is an over the knee, bare bottom spanking with a leather-soled slipper. Six spanks for the original abuse and three additional spanks for each additional clobber malfunction. My record is fifteen spanks which just goes to show what I mean when I say that I’m clobber-challenged.

Katie likes to talk while she spanks. Her favorite mantra is, “there is nothing like an early-morning slippering to kick-start your circulation!” Katie purchased these leather-soled slippers (actually they are sandals) from a flea-market in the Plaka in Athens. Much as I hate to admit it she selected well. The sandals are extremely potent and Katie Beck has a very good right arm!

As I say Katie is a Grade 1 Be-yotch and there is nothing more disagreeable than a visit to her office for a thorough rump-roasting before you’ve even had time to take brekker.

Fortunately this morning my laundry has been returned so I breathe a sigh of relief and grab the neatly folded clobber and repair upstairs to our study.

Rosemary is up and about and has been down to the cafeteria. She looks after my diet and has brought me bowl of muesli, some fresh fruit, orange juice and more steaming java, god bless her navy-blue bumbags. I strip off and head into the bathroom to take a shower.

Once I have showered, dressed and chowed down on my brekker it is time to cut along to the assembly hall for the first formal ritual of the day.

This is another event that is fraught with danger for my bumbags. The rules regarding assembly are strict. There is to be no ‘prodding’ pushing or poking’ protocol imposed during ingress and egress to the hall. Once we are in our seats there must be ‘no goofing, gabbing, larking or pranking’. According to Ms Lawton it is not unreasonable to expect us to spend thirty minutes a day displaying some lady-like decorum. Mr Humphries has seen no reason to revise this protocol.

Our behavior is closely scrutinized by the Red-shirt and her Elite. They are trained to notice even the most minor breach of protocol. Red cards are mandatory and anybody spotted recklessly breaking the rules is immediately evicted and sent to stand in a lonely vigil at the front of the hall.

Unfortunately over the years I have shown a distinct tendency for displaying unlady-like decorum and hold the unenviable record for being ejected from the proceedings.

I don’t know what gets into me, honestly I don’t. I am convinced that I have an alter-ego, a naughty sister inside me that I call ‘the Imposter’. One minute I am sitting quietly in my seat, lost in deep contemplation and then suddenly for no reason I find myself annoying the gal seated in front of me by tapping the seat of her chair with my foot or some other mindless annoyance. Before I know it I’ll hear my name being called by a red-card waving member of the Elite, “Morton, step up for goofing” she’ll shout at the top of her lungs and so it begins.

Of course every head in the hall has turned to watch me as I struggle past the knees of my seated chums and out into the aisle. I always feel kind of self-conscious as I make my way to the front of the hall. No matter how often it happens I can’t stop my cheeks from turning a little red.

We are required to take up position in some kind of no man’s land between the double doors and the stairs to the stage. We all try to feign an air of studied nonchalance but it is impossible not to feel a little foolish. After all the gals in their seats have nothing better to do than stare at you and you know that every one of them is thinking that in less than thirty minutes you are going to be getting the cane.

Depending on the timing of your eviction you can be left standing up the front for anything up to ten minutes. That might not sound long but it is plenty of time to ruminate over your latest misfortune. After all for a moments gratuitous amusement, which truth be known was neither very gratifying nor particularly amusing, you have guaranteed yourself a mandatory six-stroke bare bender. Actually in my case, as fully paid up member of the ‘Double-Berkeley Society’ I am guaranteed twelve strokes. How dumb is that?

After a while you will hear the click and clack of heels in the wood-floored corridor leading to the hall. The Red-shirt will announce “All rise, Brass approaching.” This a good time to straighten-up, shoulders back, hands by sides and try to look penitent.

The Brass strides into the hall and sweeps by you. For the most part they ignore you although some of the nicer Dame’s might throw you a sympathetic look. The last to enter the hall are always Patty Hodge and the Wart. Of course they do not merely sweep by but feel obliged to stop and make some, in my opinion very unnecessary, remarks. God forbid if the top button of your blouse is unfastened and your tie loosened (mine has been on several occasions) because Patty will take great glee in showing you a second red-card. “Make yourself an appointment with Katie for a slippering for collar and tie abuse,” she will announce theatrically before taking her place on the stage.

Finally the principal arrives. Back in Ms Lawton’s time she would often stop and fix you with her gimlet glare. She had a way of speaking that was so cold and clipped that it sent a chill up your spine. In less than fifty words she could leave you feeling as if you had been mauled by a mountain cat. You could hardly wait to be instructed to leave the hall and go upstairs to have your bum inspected by Katie Beck.

Until recently the Grand Master took a rather more relaxed view towards us getting booted out of the hall and barely even broke stride as he dismissed you. However, in recent times things have taken a turn for the worse.

I am forced to admit that my behavior in the hall has been far from stellar of late and even the Grand Master is losing patience with finding me waiting at the front of the hall. Mr Humphries is not given to lengthy diatribes he seems to think actions speak louder than words. I can assure you that being hauled up onto the stage and being publicly spanked certainly communicated a particularly articulate message!

Thankfully this morning the Imposter minded her own business and assembly passed uneventfully. We finally leave the hall and head back to the study to collect our satchels.

I go to my closet and select a catapult, pea-shooter and my favorite vintage water-pistol and stuff them into my bag along with my books. It is time to hit the lecture halls and no self-respecting minx does not travel loaded for bear in case of all eventualities.

Well I’ve at least managed to get through the early part of the morning with my bumbags intact so as I link arms with Rosemary and saunter onto the landing we shall just have to wait and see how I fare during the next stage of the day.

If you are enjoying the Toon Collection and the book-extracts and you have finished reading the complimentary Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber and still want to know more about the antics of the World’s greatest mega-mixes then cut along sharpish to the newly redesigned Woodettes Publication Page which gives direct access to the five volumes from the Woody Back to School Unit saga that are available for download for the very reasonable sum of $4.99 each. I have included a brief synopsis of the content of each book and of course I have kept the Free Preview Chapters available for your enjoyment.

Stunning New Woody Toon 18 – A Public Flogging for Jojo

Yesterday we saw Jojo managing to accumulate three red cards in a single day and being sentenced to a mandatory public flogging. Part 2 transports the action to the assembly hall where our heroine is caned in front of the assembled unit. Please be assured that the use of this phrase under no circumstances should be interpreted as my endorsement of the barbaric practices perpetrated by unsavory regimes elsewhere in the real world! It is purely a figure of speech that was in common usage by writers such as Frank Richards back in the thirties and forties.

Once again Dave Ell has done a superb job of interpreting the brief and capturing the atmosphere surrounding the flogging. If you click on the picture twice and then twice again (don’t ask me why) you will see the full size version and can check out the minute details that Dave includes to make these pieces true spanking masterpieces (ok I’m biased but you have to admit they’re pretty good!).

Yesterday I mentioned that the British Sunday Times magazine used to feature a page called the ‘Life in the Day of … (some celebrity)’ and I thought I’d take a punt at writing ‘A Life in the Day of a Woody Gal’. The result of Part 1 is included beneath the Toon … hope you enjoy it … Bottoms Up! … RH

 

 

Before the story, just the usual polite reminder that Woodettes Publications purchased these illustrations along with the copyright. I have no objection to other sites using them as long as they are accompanied by appropriate acknowledgment to the source.

A Life in the Day of a Woody Gal – Part 1 – Early Morning Rituals

At seven a.m. each morning the bell on the clock tower tolls and another day of their sentences at the Woody Back to School Unit begins for the inmates.

Some gals are already up and about even before the bell sounds. Debs Morton religiously rises at dawn and meets her tennis coach, Jane Lummell, for an early morning run around the grounds. Cassie Cassy and the day’s kitchen crew start work at six-thirty. Other early risers can be found mooching about the cloisters enjoying a cup of coffee, an early morning fag and a breath of fresh air.

During the Ms Lawton era a strict no smoking, no hoochin’ regime was imposed but following the arrival of Mr Humphries a more liberal attitude prevails and the inmates no longer face a mandatory six of the best if they are caught sucking down on a quiet fag or two.

The first order of business for the inmates is to retrieve their clobber from their laundry pigeon-holes. This can be prove to be a disappointing experience. Each night the inmates are required to deposit their white blouses, bumbags, socks and any other items of clobber that need cleaning into the laundry-shute. The protocols known as the ‘Politics of Clobber’ are copious and detailed. All clobber must be submitted in pristine condition.

Katie Beck, the evil matron at the unit is tasked with ensuring that the inmates abide by the requirements of the Politics of Clobber. The Clobber Inspectors from the outside contractors are trained to study every item for even minor blemishes, nicks, hanging threads, chipped or discolored buttons or any other unreasonable signs of wear and tear. Any item of clobber found to be in an abusive condition is photographed, documented and bagged and tagged. Abusive clobber is sent directly to Katie.

It is always disconcerting for a gal to pitch up at her pigeon-hole to retrieve her freshly laundered clobber only to be confronted with a note from Katie instructing them to, ‘Cut along sharpish to my office to answer to charges of clobber abuse’.

Katie Beck’s maxim is that “there is nothing like a damn good slippering first thing in the morning to kick-start a gal’s circulation”. Needless to say the inmates find it somewhat disconcerting to find themselves subjected to taking a trip across Katie’s knee to have their rumps roasted before they’ve even had time for brekker.

Katie Beck is a die-hard Whop Junkie and relishes her work. She makes the pre-brekker interviews as disagreeable as possible. She favors leather-soled slippers that she purchased in the Plaka market area of Athens and embarks upon the imposition of the ‘Politics of Clobber’ zeaolously as can be seen in Woody Toon 16 .

However, despite the known risks many of the inmates are notoriously lax about checking and fixing their clobber before handing it in for laundering. Favorite heroines like Debs Morton and Rosemary Booker are notoriously clobber challenged and one inmate, Miss Bee Lee is so perennially challenged in this department that she has earned herself the nickname as ‘The Scruff’. Katie rarely has difficulty meeting the weekly clobber abuse slippering targets established by her handler, Patty Hodge, the heinous Commandant of the Radical Right, and regularly slippers half a dozen inmates every week.

Brekker at the unit is a buffet affair served in the cafeteria and though it is relatively informal Duty Monitors are assigned to ensure that there is no excessive goofing, larking or pranking. In extreme circumstances the inmates can be shown a red card and dispatched upstairs, forthwith, to the punishment room for a swift six of the best. Never a pleasant way to start the day.

After dressing, performing their ablutions and chowing down on a healthy brekker the inmates are required to repair to the assembly hall for the first formal ritual of the day. This can also prove to be a precarious affair.

The rules regarding behavior during ingress and egress to the hall are explicit. There will be no pushing, poking or prodding while entering or exiting the hall. Once seated in the hall a ‘no goofing, gabbing, larking, or pranking’ protocol is instituted. This protocol was introduced by Ms Lawton, who considered, not unreasonably, that it was not too much to ask for the inmates to spend ten or fifteen minutes each morning demonstrating a degree of ladylike decorum.

The behavior of the inmates is closely scrutinized by the Red-shirt and her Elite. They are trained to notice even the most minor breach of protocol. Red cards are mandatory and anybody spotted recklessly breaking the rules is immediately evicted and sent to stand in a lonely vigil at the front of the hall.

Considering that the minimum consequences of breaching the protocol is a mandatory six-stroke bare bender with the senior cane one could assume that this would act as a sufficient deterrent. Sadly not; the inmates that inhabit the correctional facility are prone to hasty and sometimes ill-conceived acts of mega-minxdom. Every year scores of the inmates are booted out of the assembly hall.

Debs Morton is the worst offender and eventually she even succeeds in trying the patience of Mr Humphries with her persistent compulsive impulsive disruptions to the proceedings. In Woody Toon 3 the Grand Master demonstrates his mild irritation at Deborah’s propensity for serial goofing in the assembly hall.

A final challenge that faces a gal who has been chucked out of the assembly hall is the state of her neckwear. The protocols dictate that ‘the collar of a gals blouse must be fastened at all times and the top button covered with the knot of her tie’. The official term for failing to comply with this protocol is known as ‘collar and tie abuse’ and if breached attracts a mandatory caning. Generally the more liberal members of the Brass and Elite are willing to overlook this as an indiscretion and will merely instruct the inmate to correct the abusive condition. However, for gals ejected from the hall this can prove to be yet another early morning hazard to her bumbags.

The last members of the Brass to enter the hall are invariably Patty Hodge and the Wart. They always take great pleasure in barreling down upon the luckless gal waiting beside the piano and presenting them with an unsavory ration of tongue pie. In the event that the gal’s neckwear is observed to be in an abusive condition Patty will invoke the harshest interpretation of the protocol and inevitably gleefully produce a second red-card. She will then imperiously compound the luckless individual’s fortunes by loudly instructing her to make an appointment to visit with Katie Beck the following morning to have her poor beleaguered bum upturned for a drubbing with the matron’s leather slipper.

As you can see a pattern is beginning to emerge and the inmates bumbags are under constant threat from the moment they rise in the morning and it is a rare day that at least one member of the Woody community does not begin her long day in the lecture halls with bumbags full of smarts forcing her to wriggle and squirm in the hard, unyielding wooden seats as she pores studiously over her books.

More about the lecture rooms tomorrow.

If you are enjoying the Toon Collection and the book-extracts and you have finished reading the complimentary Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber and still want to know more about the antics of the World’s greatest mega-mixes then cut along sharpish to the newly redesigned Woodettes Publication Page which gives direct access to the five volumes from the Woody Back to School Unit saga that are available for download for the very reasonable sum of $4.99 each. I have included a brief synopsis of the content of each book and of course I have kept the Free Preview Chapters available for your enjoyment.

Brand New Woody Toon 17 – Three Red Cards for Jojo

The Woody Back to School Unit is very proud to present the first installment of an experimental and completely original two-part Woody Toon. Personally I think artist Dave Ell has done a wonderful job with this interpretation and Part Two will be posted at the same time tomorrow so set your clocks and check in wherever you are.

Btw for anybody who would like to commission Dave I have corrected his email which should read lodgy53@yahoo.co.uk. I can only say that working with Dave on this collection has been a great experience so if you have ever thought about having a little surprise rendition as a gift for your partner he will be more than happy to help you and his fees are very reasonable.

Many years ago the British Sunday Times magazine used to feature a page called the ‘Life in the Day of … (some celebrity)’ … over the next few days I’m going to have a bash at writing ‘A Life in the Day of a Woody Gal’ and see how it works out … in the meantime … kick-back and enjoy this magnificent new toon, have a good old rummage around the site … and remember to check back tomorrow for the sensational Part Two … Bottoms Up! … RH

 

 

Before the story, just the usual polite reminder that Woodettes Publications purchased these illustrations along with the copyright. I have no objection to other sites using them as long as they are accompanied by appropriate acknowledgment to the source.

If you are enjoying the Toon Collection and the book-extracts and you have finished reading the complimentary Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber and still want to know more about the antics of the World’s greatest mega-mixes then cut along sharpish to the newly redesigned Woodettes Publication Page which gives direct access to the five volumes from the Woody Back to School Unit saga that are available for download for the very reasonable sum of $4.99 each. I have included a brief synopsis of the content of each book and of course I have kept the Free Preview Chapters available for your enjoyment.

Congratulations to Bonnie and My Bottom Smarts

The Woody Back to School Unit is very pleased to present Bonnie Burns of the legendary My Bottoms Smarts site with the Five Red Bums Order of Merit for Exceptional Services to the International Spanking Community … 8 Million Hits!!! … That’s a pretty stunning statistic … and I think anybody who has ever visited her page or had any communication with her will share my appreciation of her never-ending courtesy and grace … so thanks Bonnie for all your hard work … Bottoms Up! to a true legend … RH and Jojo.

A Little Titillation from the Upcoming’s New Toons

Just a quick teaser from the new sensational two-part Woody Toon that we are planning for the weekend … mark your calendars … Bottoms Up … RH

If you are having fun rummaging around the site and are enjoying the Toon Collection and the book-extracts and you have finished reading the complimentary Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber and still want to know more about the antics of the World’s greatest mega-mixes then cut along sharpish to the newly redesigned Woodettes Publication Page which gives direct access to the five volumes from the Woody Back to School Unit saga that are available for download for the very reasonable sum of $4.99 each. I have included a brief synopsis of the content of each book and of course I have kept the Free Preview Chapters available for your enjoyment.

Jojo gets a lesson in Aero-dynamics and Cat gives a Second Opinion

Thanks to everybody who has hung in here and been rummaging about the site while RH has been lost in business hell. I’ve noticed a lot of guests have been rummaging through some of the older posts and are hopefully getting to know the characters a little better and picking up on the story-lines. Of course if you popped over to the Woodettes Publications Page and bought the books you could read the stories in their full chronological glory!

Today’s extract is from Volume 5 – A New Regime and features My Beloved Jojo and Cat Cassidy getting an invaluable lesson in aero-dynamics.

This weekend we have a special two-part toon planned so mark your calendars … in the meantime … kick-back and enjoy this extract … Bottoms Up! … RH

Life for the mega-minxes had taken a turn for the better. Mr Humphries seemed passionately dedicated both to the facility and the best interests of the inmates. Ms Lawton had always encouraged the gals to participate in extra curricula activities but the programs had often seemed staid and archaic. Ms Lawton had opposed the gal’s access to the Internet in any form and had banned them from having cellular phones.

The new Grand Master had ripped out the antiquated computer server that had been in use at the facility for the past ten years, replacing it with a super-fast fiber optic system that had wireless connectivity to the gal’s laptops and work stations. He issued the Elite gals cell phones so that they could remain connected as they patrolled the facility and any gal who went into town was given access to a phone so she could call in an emergency. He handed out pda’s to all eighty-four inmates and allowed monitored Internet access to the whole unit. He espoused web-based learning and encouraged the gals to set up chat rooms and bulletin boards to swap ideas and information about common interests. Every gal had a homepage that was accessible via the GalGab intranet where she was allowed to post whatever she pleased within pre-set guidelines. He advocated self-sufficiency for the unit and instead of hiring high cost IT consultants he assigned the facilities keenest technocrat, Nicola Jane Nixon, to ensure the smooth running of the system.

He announced plans for weekly guest speakers and performers to visit the facility, ranging from lecturers and motivational speakers, to classical, jazz and rock musicians, poets and authors.

He organized forums where the inmates could bring ideas for in-house projects and he helped facilitate their incubation.

He encouraged the inmates to be more self-sufficient. He fired the outside catering staff and made Cassie Cassy Director of Culinary Services with a healthy budget. Every day she would be allocated a kitchen staff from amongst the inmates to provide exciting and nutritious fare to the dining hall.

He gave them carte blanche to make proposals for redecoration. He assigned Jojo the role of head of creative design with Lisa Sutton acting as her assistant.

The Grand Master slowly and painstakingly set about winning the inmate’s confidence and ensuring that there wouldn’t be any hiccoughs in their social rehabilitation.

The high jinx of the mega-minxes didn’t seem to disturb the Grand Master in the least. In fact they amused him greatly and he treated them indulgently, even when he was disciplining them.

The Grand Master was especially fond of Joanna Heyworth. Jojo had been one of the first gals to embrace his project forum concept and had already proposed a series of short plays she wanted to produce and had opened a master-class program in faux finishes and trompe l’oeil. He found her cheerful and earnest, clever and witty, and very, very naughty all at the same time.

Mr Humphries smiled at Jojo as she stood before him doing a woefully poor caricature of contrition as she explained why she had been called upon to visit him for fourth time in the space of three weeks. He rather fancied that the Dame who had chucked her out of the lecture room’s version of events might differ slightly from Jojo’s. Nonetheless he listened with patient amusement.

“So Heyworth, let me make sure I understand this,” he said finally. “The reason that you happened to take your ruler and use it to project a missile across the lecture room was just for research?”

“Well it wasn’t a missile sir,” she corrected him. “It was an artistic interpretation of a biplane. We had been discussing aero dynamics and I was just making sure I had things straight.”

“Aero dynamics huh?” asked the Grand Master.

“Yes sir,” confirmed Jojo.

“Well I think I have just the thing to show you the true physics of aero dynamics,” he said standing up. Jojo bit her lip. She didn’t like the sound of that. She watched nervously as he crossed to the tallboy.

Mr Humphries was anything but conventional. Mr Humphries had a veritable armory in the tallboy. Along with his selection of senior canes, gals returned from his study with tales of straps and slippers. Jojo gasped as he produced from the cupboard, a wooden paddle with holes drilled along its shaft. Jojo had read about American gals getting paddled and that the holes increased the aero dynamism producing a blistering effect.

“Oh good grief,” she muttered.

Jojo lay prostrate across the desk, her bumbags lowered to her ankles and her skirt turned back. Behind her Mr Humphries had laid the shiny wooden paddle across her naked bottom. Joanna stretched her arms out until they dangled over the edge of the desk and prepared herself for the onslaught.

Mr Humphries’s physics lesson was comprehensive. Joanna was relieved that she was bent across the heavy desk. The paddle was heavier than the cane and its weight seemed to push her forward when it made its juicy contact. As it pulled back the holes seemed to suck her skin in and pop it out again in a single momentary action.

Jojo figured that the next few minutes were going to be extremely hot and sweaty.

Mr Humphries was pleased with the new paddle. He had spotted it in a store that specialized in such commodities and had immediately recognized its potential for enhancing his artillery. It had a round wooden handle that had been neatly wrapped in calf leather. The twelve-inch wooden shaft had been drilled with holes that had been carefully sanded to avoid inflicting unnecessary damage. The wood had been oiled and polished with a dark stain.

Nonetheless despite its aesthetic beauty it was a weapon that needed to be applied judiciously and with dexterity.

He hardly raised his arm at all; using a sharp flick of the wrist and relying on the ingenious device to do exactly what it was designed for. The results were encouraging. At each sharp crack of wood against flesh Jojo’s left leg involuntarily crooked at the knee.

This was Jojo’s fourth visit to his office in less than three weeks. On the first two occasions he had given her conventional canings and on her third visit he had put her across his knee and tried out a two-tailed tawse he had recently acquired. He had admired the resilience she had shown on each occasion. However, from her agitated reaction he concluded that the new paddle was giving her considerable gyp.

Joanna smoothed down her skirt and straightened her tie. Her backside was roasting. The drilled wooden paddle was a formidable adversary even for the whop-hardened reigning Big BUTT.

Mr Humphries was grinning cheerfully, “Well I expect that was quite warm,” he chuckled.

“Yes sir, just a tad, thank you very much,” said Jojo sniffilly.

“Well perhaps you’ll behave yourself a bit better in the future?” the Grand Master laughed. “Although, somehow, I very much doubt it.”

“You never know sir,” grinned Jojo, “I might just surprise you.”

“Perhaps you’d better,” he grinned, “because you are now officially code red.”

He turned the computer screen so that Jojo could see. At the top of the screen the punishment number field showed ‘179’.

“Oh great,” grumbled Jojo.

The Grand Master had a habit of engaging the gals in informal conversation during post-processing. He appeared impervious to the fact that her bottom was currently hot enough to roast crumpets on and all she really wanted to do was flap her skirt and dance an idiot gig.

Despite the state of the art technology Mr Humphries had introduced post-processing actually took longer than before. The punishment was first typed into the database for publication on the GalGab web-site, and then it was entered into the punishment record book that the inmates carried in the breast pockets of their blazer pockets at all times. He had considered automating the process and beaming the information directly to their pda’s but he liked the little PRB’s so he maintained the manual process. Finally the punishment was recorded in the huge leather bound ledger, embossed in gold with the Woody shield and calligraphied with the words Punishment Record Book.

He was damned if he was getting rid of the ledger, electronic age or not. The ledger contained records dating back over a hundred and fifty years and on careful inspection revealed the nefarious pasts of such Woody luminaries as Susan Lawton, Patty Hodge, Ma Brooks and Ma Morton.

He chatted idly with Jojo while he typed and wrote. Asking her how her draft of the play was progressing and enquiring about the prospects of the riding team at an upcoming horse trial event. Jojo did her best to concentrate and answer intelligently. Her bottom was blazing beneath her bumbags and she felt vaguely disorientated. Finally he slammed the ledger shut, screwed on the top of his fountain pen and asked her if she fancied a drink.

“Pardon me?” gasped Jojo.

“A drink,” smiled the Grand Master. “You do drink don’t you? I understand that the Bounder keeps a rather large inventory of wines and spirits that I’m sure you avail of liberally. How does a glass of bubbles sound?”

Jojo gaped at the Grand Master. “That would be nice,” she spluttered.

The Grand Master smiled and crossed to the drinks cabinet.

Jojo was a tad lit and was giggling at the Grand Master. Despite the ferocious burning in her bumbags she was having a jolly time. The Grand Master was relaxed and friendly and seemed to have forgotten that less than an hour ago he had been flailing the skin off her butt with a lethal paddle. Mr Humphries had just opened a second bottle of bubbly when a tap on the door interrupted them.

“Come in,” boomed the Grand Master.

The handle of the door turned and the door swung slowly open. Cathryn Cassidy stepped into the room. She was dressed in an extremely short gymslip and high heels. She wore a boater on her head at a jaunty angle.

Cathryn smiled enigmatically. “Excuse me for intruding Grand Master,” she said in an unconcerned drawl, “but I’m here to be caned.”

Cat Cassidy was a Woody legend. She had been amongst the first of the Celebrity Ladettes singled out by the Dark Agents of the System to be sent to the Big House.

Cat was the elder daughter of Chris and Caroline Cassidy. The Cassidy’s were popular gossip column fodder. Chris was a music mogul, generally credited with reviving the British jazz scene. His wife, Caroline, was a former super-model who had been once listed amongst the five most beautiful women in the world. The manor house they owned on a sprawling estate was the venue for some of the most exclusive social events of the year. Cat was brought up in a world peopled by jazz musicians who wore dark glasses twenty-four-seven, beat writers and poets, and a multitude of artists, models and photographers.

During Cat’s days at the strict Dartington Manor school she had garnered a reputation as the epitome of cool. Her total disregard for the rules earned her a school record for being caned. At weekends she was a prominent feature on the burgeoning Ladette party scene.

After leaving school she split her time between working at her father’s recording studio, learning the ropes of the business she would one day inherit and studying International Business Law at university. She was regularly photographed dancing late into the night at exclusive night clubs. Tall, dark and beautiful Cathryn Cassidy was the papparazzi’s dream. Unfortunately for Cat she was also the System’s dream.

The Dark Agents followed her everywhere, looking for opportunities. When none were forthcoming they manufactured evidence and arrested her under the cover of night. Cathryn was charged with Extreme Ladetting and denied access to a defense counsel. In a closed hearing of the System she was sentenced to seven years at the Back to School unit without the possibility of parole.

Chris and Caroline were outraged and bank-rolled an anti-System and ‘Free Cat’ campaign. Within days they appeared to have won sympathy for the movement. However, the System was ready to strike back.

They effectively diverted the ‘Free Cat’ campaign with the high-profile arrests of the Butcher Twins. Patsy and Lindsey Butcher were sprinters who had been selected to represent the country at the forthcoming Olympics. It came to the attention of the Dark Agents that the Amazonian Rastafarian twins were partial to attending all night blues in Ladbroke Grove. It was a simple matter to set up a bust and Patsy and Lindsey were swept up in a drugs raid.

The morning papers castigated the twins and demanded stiff sentences despite there being no evidence of them having been in possession of narcotics. The Great Unwashed immediately turned their attention from Cat’s plight and brayed for the twin’s heads on a platter. Despite their innocence Patsy and Lindsey were sent to the Big House.

Once the twins had been dispatched the System announced yet another high-profile arrest. Penelope Ann Evans, captain of the Olympic equestrian team, was reported to have failed a routine drug test. The public were outraged, so despite Penny Ann’s defense counsel providing concrete evidence that the Systems sample did not come from the famed rider she was also sentenced to the Woody Back to School unit.

Cat’s best friend and fellow Ladette was Melanie White, the daughter of a prominent heart surgeon. Just for good measure the System arrested Melons and made an example of her too.

Chris and Caroline Cassidy continued to lobby for Cat’s release but they were swimming in treacle. The wily Dark Agents of the System had clearly won public support and the ‘Free Cat’ slogan had changed to an indifferent ‘Who’s Cat’ attitude amongst the Great Unwashed.

Cathryn Cassidy refused to be cowed by the harsh circumstances she found herself in and soon teamed up with old party friends from the Extreme Ladetting circuit and began to draft her influential treatise ‘The Manifesto of Mega-Minxdom’.

Cathryn Cassidy was no longer officially an inmate of the facility. She had completed her seven years and been released on probation. However, in top secret consultation with the Grand Master Cat and two of her chums, Melanie White and Penelope Ann Evans, had elected to stay at the facility and study for their degrees on-line.

For the most part the arrangement was attractive. Cat would remain in close proximity to her long-time lover, Mark, a successful local business-man. Penny Ann would remain eligible to ride on the unit’s highly-regarded equestrian team and could continue her affair with Nicola Jane. Melanie figured that it was better to stay and hang-out with her chums than to stay on a college campus where she would be years older than the rest of the students.

The initial round of talks went without controversy. The three Old Gals would be allowed to wear civilian clothes, would no longer be required to obtain passes to leave the compound and were granted a relaxed curfew. They would be given well-appointed apartments in a large house in a secluded section of the grounds. Although they had no official duties or title they would be issued with an ashplant and were entitled to thrash any gal they deemed to need thrashing. The Old Gals wouldn’t have prearranged curriculums, just informal tutorials and lectures to assist them as they studied for their degrees.

There only remained one unresolved item on the agenda; the protocols that needed to be put in place regarding the disciplining of Old Gals.

Penny Ann and Melanie designated Cat as their spokesperson to attend a meeting that would enter Woody lore as the ‘Old Gals Whops and Clobber Summit.’

Cat, Melons and Penny Ann had taken the pragmatic approach that some degree of seat-sniffing was inevitable. Cat was entrusted with the task of damage limitation.

Over several bottles of 1997 Louis Roederer Cristal, Cathryn and the Grand Master sat down to thrash out the new guiding protocols for Old Gal Discipline.

Cathryn negotiated hard on behalf of the Old Gals.

“I suppose it’s finally all just come down to whops and clobber,” drawled Cat, “the question is how many whops and how much clobber?”

It was late into the night before Cathryn finally signed her name at the bottom of the Old Gal’s Whops and Clobber Charter. According to the Charter, in principle, the Old Gals would be disciplined as if they were an extension of the Elite. Cat skillfully won a number of concessions.

After she screwed the top back on her fountain pen she picked up her glass.

“Bottom’s up,” she grinned.

The Grand Master extended his glass. “How much your bottom is up and how often is now down to you,” he smiled.

Cathryn winked and lit a cigarette.

The following day the three Old Gals went to lunch at a Woody-friendly wine bar in the nearby town to review the Charter.

“Some negotiator you turned out to be,” Melons teased Cathryn. “I’d rather hoped that my seat-sniffing days were behind me.”

“So spank me,” giggled Cat.

“Don’t tempt fate,” laughed Penny Ann, “me and Nix might just take you up on that offer.”

“Hey,” said Cat in mock indignation, “these were not just your average everyday peace talks in the Middle East, this was serious stuff! This was whops and clobber we were negotiating!”

Melanie and Penelope Ann laughed. They raised their glasses to Cathryn. “Bottoms up, sister,” they toasted, “you did good.”

After several bottles of chardonnay the three Old Gals repaired to a local haberdashery to be fitted for new sets of clobber.

“It’s just a precautionary measure,” Cat assured them as she sashayed around in a microscopically small gymslip. Penny Ann and Melons burst out laughing.

“Yeah, rock on, Cat,” hooted Melanie. “I’ll bet you’re back in clobber before the months out.”

Cat stuck her tongue out. “It might even be a whole lot sooner than that,” she said enigmatically.

The Grand Master offered Cat a pre-beating drink. Jojo was impressed when she calmly reached into her blazer pocket, extracted a cigarette, put it in the corner of her mouth and lit it with an expensive looking lighter. Jojo and Cat were fast friends and Joanna knew that her pal was the epitome of cool. But there were limits. The Old Gal winked at the Grand Master.

Mr Humphries smiled indulgently.

Politely Joanna stood up and made ready to leave.

“Oh don’t leave on my account Jojo,” Cathryn said nonchalantly. “Sit down and have another drink.”

Jojo looked uncertain but Mr Humphries was already pouring more bubbly.

Cathryn Cassidy sipped her drink and finished her cigarette. “Ready when you are, sir,” she drawled. “Where do you want me?”

The Grand Master went to the tallboy and retrieved the wooden paddle that he had tested out on Joanna. He showed it to Cat.

“I just gave this little critter her maiden voyage,” he told her. “Miss Heyworth seemed quite impressed but it’s always good to seek a second opinion. Why don’t you bend over the desk and let’s see what you think.”

Jojo watched as Cathryn slipped off her blazer and folded it neatly. She placed the jacket on a convenient sofa and then placed her straw boater on top of it. She approached the desk unhurriedly, stopping briefly to tie her long dark hair into a pony tail. She leaned forward and slid her upper torso across the surface of the desk until her arms were dangling over the far side. She raised her hips slightly to allow the Grand Master to turn back the hem of her gymslip and roll down her navy blue bumbags.

Joanna watched sympathetically as the Grand Master raised the paddle in the air and then brought it down with a resounding crack. The wooden paddle immediately transformed Cathryn’s right buttock into a hot, glowing sunset. Joanna resisted the temptation to reach back and rub her own throbbing behind.

Mr Humphries beat Cathryn Cassidy soundly. The wooden paddle smacked downwards on alternate cheeks making Cat wriggle and squirm. However, when she rose and rearranged her clobber she showed no signs of distress and smiled cheerfully when the Grand Master handed her a drink.

“So, how would you rate my new acquisition?” the Grand Master asked jovially.

Cat smiled. “You could have taken Jojo’s word for it sir. You really didn’t need a second opinion.”

Cathryn swallowed down her drink and picked up her blazer and boater. “I’ll be cutting along now, sir, if you don’t mind. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

The Grand Master nodded. “Enjoy,” he told the Old Gal.

Jojo accepted the Grand Masters offer of one last drink for the ditch. She was unable to ascertain the reason that Cathryn had been sent up to be punished, as she seemed to be communicating with the Grand Master telepathically. Jojo sipped her drink while the Grand Master replaced the wooden paddle in the tallboy.

The inmates of the Back to School unit were beginning to appreciate that Mr Humphries was as different as night and day to his predecessor. Ms Lawton had run the facility like a military stockade, maintaining discipline by introducing ever more stringent rules, regulations and protocols. Towards the end of her tenure she had become a distant and forbidding figure who was only seen during assembly or when an inmate was sent up to her office for whops.

By contrast Mr Humphries spent a lot of time circulating amongst the inmates and seemed genuinely interested in their opinions regarding the administration of the unit. As she sipped her drink Jojo was flattered that the Grand Master seemed so interested in her views regarding a variety of aspects of life at the Back to School unit. She was quite relaxed by the time she left his office.

Cathryn Cassidy unfastened the top button of her blouse and loosened her tie. She turned around raising her skirt and rolling down her bumbags so that she could study her scarlet bottom in the mirror.

She let out a low whistle, “Good grief,” she muttered.

She unfastened the buttons on the shoulders of her gymslip and stepped out of it. She reached into her wardrobe and pulled out a black leather mini skirt. She grinned to herself; at least in a short time her boyfriend, Mark would be soothing her burning orbs with the help of Rosemary Booker’s mystical balms.

If you are enjoyed the story and are having fun with the Toon Collection and the book-extracts and you have finished reading the complimentary Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber and still want to know more about the antics of the World’s greatest mega-mixes then cut along sharpish to the newly redesigned Woodettes Publication Page which gives direct access to the five volumes from the Woody Back to School Unit saga that are available for download for the very reasonable sum of $4.99 each. I have included a brief synopsis of the content of each book and of course I have kept the Free Preview Chapters available for your enjoyment.

Another Woody Special – The Nixdown Collection

Adding to the growing collection of Toons, here’s a selection featuring the gloriously incorrigible and sometimes cranky Nixdown Nixon.

 

 

 

Despite it being the weekend and the middle of the night I am still up to my lugs in work so once again my apology for an abbreviated post … nonetheless for the rest of you it’s the weekend … so kick-back, have a good rummage about, open a bottle of red, white or splash out and have a mimosa, or all three … and enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH

If you are enjoying the Toon Collection and the book-extracts and you have finished reading the complimentary Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber and still want to know more about the antics of the World’s greatest mega-mixes then cut along sharpish to the newly redesigned Woodettes Publication Page which gives direct access to the five volumes from the Woody Back to School Unit saga that are available for download for the very reasonable sum of $4.99 each. I have included a brief synopsis of the content of each book and of course I have kept the Free Preview Chapters available for your enjoyment.

Brand New and Red Hot! – Woody Toon 16 – The Politics of Clobber

After yesterday’s bumper turn-out to check out the eccentricities of the Dyke here’s another wild and whacky character you’re going to really love or hate … Miss Katie Beck … wonderfully captured by the illustrative skills of Dave Ell … poor old Debs, another very red bum! 

My thanks to Prefectd for his shout-out over at his great Spanked Hortic page.

Once again my apology for an abbreviated post but work is seriously encroaching on my time … nonetheless it’s the weekend … so kick-back, have a good rummage about, open a bottle of red, white or whatever your tipple might be … and enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH

 

 

Just the usual polite reminder that Woodettes Publications purchased these illustrations along with the copyright. I have no objection to other sites using them as long as they are accompanied by appropriate acknowledgment to the source.

If you are enjoying the Toon Collection and the book-extracts and you have finished reading the complimentary Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber and still want to know more about the antics of the World’s greatest mega-mixes then cut along sharpish to the newly redesigned Woodettes Publication Page which gives direct access to the five volumes from the Woody Back to School Unit saga that are available for download for the very reasonable sum of $4.99 each. I have included a brief synopsis of the content of each book and of course I have kept the Free Preview Chapters available for your enjoyment.

Another Scorcher – Woody Toon 15 – Nixdown and the Dyke

Nixdown Nixon is famously promiscuous, infamously degenerate and makes no secret of her penchant for pain. Ms MacAllister, a.k.a. the Dyke, considers herself a bit of a swinger (especially with the Lochgelly Tawse) and is hankering after a little Nix Joy. Misguidedly she thinks that giving Nix a good whopping at the front of the lecture hall might further her cause. However, even Nix has standards as you will see.

Unfortunately work obligations continue to divert my attention but I think you will really love this fantastic interpretation by Dave Ell …. so kick-back, have a good rummage, open a bottle of red and enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH

 

 

Just the usual polite reminder that Woodettes Publications purchased these illustrations along with the copyright. I have no objection to other sites using them as long as they are accompanied by appropriate acknowledgment to the source.

If you are enjoying the Toon Collection and the book-extracts and you have finished reading the complimentary Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber and still want to know more about the antics of the World’s greatest mega-mixes then cut along sharpish to the newly redesigned Woodettes Publication Page which gives direct access to the five volumes from the Woody Back to School Unit saga that are available for download for the very reasonable sum of $4.99 each. I have included a brief synopsis of the content of each book and of course I have kept the Free Preview Chapters available for your enjoyment.

Another Toon Teaser – Introducing Miss Katie Beck

No self-respecting government correctional institution would be complete without a heinous matron and Miss Katie Beck fulfills that role at the Woody Back to School Unit.

Katie is an ex-inmate who once served in the role of the unit’s most tyrannical Red-shirt. Upon her return she is assigned the task of ensuring that the inmate’s clobber is maintained in pristine condition. Even minor nicks or blemishes can earn a gal an early-morning trip to her office to have their circulation given a disagreeable kick-start courtesy of Katie’s infamous leather soled slippers … check back over the next forty-eight hours to see Katie Beck at her glorious best … until then have a good rummage around the site and enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH

If you are enjoying the Toon Collection and the book-extracts and you have finished reading the complimentary Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber and still want to know more about the antics of the World’s greatest mega-mixes then cut along sharpish to the newly redesigned Woodettes Publication Page which gives direct access to the five volumes from the Woody Back to School Unit saga that are available for download for the very reasonable sum of $4.99 each. I have included a brief synopsis of the content of each book and of course I have kept the Free Preview Chapters available for your enjoyment.

A Toon Teaser – Introducing the Dyke

Just a little teaser from the forthcoming new and original Woody Toon 15, which introduces the eccentric Science Dame Ms MacAllister, a.k.a. the Dyke, into the proceedings.

Unfortunately work obligations continue to distract me from the important business of blogging but for anybody interested in a little pre-read before the full cartoon is posted on Friday just click here on The Dyke, George W and Reverse Defenestration to get a little background behind the creation of this mad-cap character (which personally I find quite amusing, even if I say so myself) … so enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH

If you are enjoying the Toon Collection and the book-extracts and you have finished reading the complimentary Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber and still want to know more about the antics of the World’s greatest mega-mixes then cut along sharpish to the newly redesigned Woodettes Publication Page which gives direct access to the five volumes from the Woody Back to School Unit saga that are available for download for the very reasonable sum of $4.99 each. I have included a brief synopsis of the content of each book and of course I have kept the Free Preview Chapters available for your enjoyment.

The Five Red Bums Award

We are pleased to honor artist and co-conspirator Dave Ell with the unique homage of receiving the first ever ‘Five Red Bums Order of Merit’.

Dave is a free-lance illustrator operating in glorious retirement from the beaches of Thailand; where else do Scouser’s go off to graze? He is currently deeply distressed about the performance of Liverpool FC who are having a bit of a rum run in the British Barclays Premier League so I thought I would cheer him up with the only award a Scouser is going to see this season.

Seriously though he is a fabulous artist and interpreter and it is a pleasure to collaborate with him … he is available for commission at dlodgy53@yahoo.co.uk and is very reasonably priced and very reliable.

We have two new absolutely brand new and original Toon’s ready for publication this weekend so mark your calendars … Bottoms Up! to all of you and especially Dave … RH

If you are enjoying the Toon Collection and the book-extracts and you have finished reading the complimentary Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber and still want to know more about the antics of the World’s greatest mega-mixes then cut along sharpish to the newly redesigned Woodettes Publication Page which gives direct access to the five volumes from the Woody Back to School Unit saga that are available for download for the very reasonable sum of $4.99 each. I have included a brief synopsis of the content of each book and of course I have kept the Free Preview Chapters available for your enjoyment.

Another Woody Toon Special – The Jojo Collection

The character of Joanna Heyworth in the books is based upon my wife and muse My Beloved Jojo. Jojo is the archetypical mega-minx and she reigns supreme as the leader of the Woody Hall of Shame known as the Bottoms Up Table of Troublemakers amongst the Woody Wags.

Unfortunately work is the bane of the spanking man so I have to rush but here is a selection of out-takes from the Woody Toons featuring My Beloved Jojo … Although she does want it made clear that Jojo doesn’t rub! … enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH

 

 

 

If you are enjoying the Toon Collection and the book-extracts and you have finished reading the complimentary Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber and still want to know more about the antics of the World’s greatest mega-mixes then cut along sharpish to the newly redesigned Woodettes Publication Page which gives direct access to the five volumes from the Woody Back to School Unit saga that are available for download for the very reasonable sum of $4.99 each. I have included a brief synopsis of the content of each book and of course I have kept the Free Preview Chapters available for your enjoyment.

A Woody Toon Special – The Debs Collection

Poor old Debs Morton always seems to be up to her bumbags in trouble. I think that this selection of frames from the Woody Toon’s amply illustrates the trials and tribulations of her poor beleaguered bum.

Debs misadventures began long before she was sentenced to seven years at the Woody Back to School Unit with the possibility of parole for Extreme Ladetting. In today’s extract from Volume 13 – The Fate of Woodys we find her pondering her past.

It’s Sunday so pour a mimosa, make a Bloody Mary and kick-back and enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH

 

 

Before the story, just the usual polite reminder that Woodettes Publications purchased these illustrations along with the copyright. I have no objection to other sites using them as long as they are accompanied by appropriate acknowledgment to the source.

D is for ?

Deborah Morton fastened the shoulder buttons of her gymslip and stared at her reflection in the mirror. She was wearing the garment as a result of the incident when she had given the Wart the bird and had been returned to full clobber for the rest of the year.

She had considered of availing of the good graces of the Grand Master and requesting that the punishment was withdrawn. Mr Humphries had been extraordinarily supportive and complimentary of her performance during the tribunal. However Deborah decided it would be unfair to take advantage of the situation and she would just have to grin and bear wearing the bib-topped gymslip for the foreseeable future.

On the front of the bib was a shield shaped badge with the letter ‘D’ stitched into it. Debs grinned to herself. It stood for Deborah, of course, but it could stand for so much else in her life.

Over a decade earlier Grand Dame Jennings had crossed through the grades for discipline on her school report and written ‘Deplorable’ in bright red ink. The harsh grading had been precipitated by a very hot and sweaty period of Deborah’s schooldays.

Debs had attended the exclusive Queensgate Academy which was renowned for its strict discipline. Deborah was academically gifted, a virtuoso clarinetist and of course the greatest tennis player of her generation. The soupcon of accomplishments could have caused her to be disliked had it not been for her other talent. She was without question the naughtiest girl in the school. In some ways Queensgate was similar to the Woody Back to School unit. The cane was used with great frequency and the pupils of the school had created their own whops culture. Debs’ role as Top of the Pops made her something of a cult hero.

Administration of discipline was the responsibility of a council of prefects known as the Posh. The Posh met every evening to pass judgment on girls who had been ‘Put on the Menu’ by the Dames.

Girls on the menu were offered the opportunity to plead guilty to the charges, enter into a plea bargain or to argue a defense.

During the last week of her fourth year at the school Deborah had established a new record when she was put on the menu by three separate Dames on the same day.

Even for a mind as brilliant as Deborah’s the prospect of entering three defenses was daunting. While she waited in the Tank, as the waiting room outside the Posh HQ was known, she toyed with her options.

When her name was finally called, she strode into the room and took up her position inside a three foot by three foot square that was taped to the floor and stood to attention.

The main body of the Posh was seated around the room in easy chairs. Two girls approached her. The President of Posh, the most senior girl in the school wore an ankle length ornately embroidered drape coat with a mandarin collar. The year’s president was none other than Pauline Gascoigne who would later serve as the Dame of Economics at the Woody Back to School unit. Beside her was her Sergeant-at-Arms.

“Miss Morton of the Fourth,” the sergeant addressed her. “You have been charged with Disobedience in the Second Degree. How do you plead?”

“Not guilty,” she answered without hesitation.

“Miss Morton of the Fourth you have been charged with Gross Insolence in the First Degree. How do you plead?” asked the sergeant.

Deborah licked her lips. She had the option to offer to plead guilty to a lesser offence of Insolence in the Second Degree. If the plea bargain was accepted she would receive a mandatory caning but most likely she would escape with as few as three or four pops of the ceremonial popping stick.

“Not guilty,” responded Deborah for a second time.

The Posh girls began to sit forward in their seats. When Deborah pleaded not guilty to a third charge the tension in the room was palpable.

Deborah took a deep breath. Her heart was pounding. During her four years at the academy Deborah had been put on the menu at a record making pace. She had learned the thrill of advocacy and despite the fact she had been popped more than any other girl she actually had an almost eighty five per cent success rate. However, despite her brilliance presenting three separate two minute defenses was going to be her greatest challenge ever.

Double Max

Deborah leaned back against the wall of the Tank. Two younger girls had already been called in and had reappeared grinning. They had either been found not guilty or had been given lesser punishments of lines, detentions or community service. A third girl was inside. If Deborah heard the cane being applied her fate would be sealed. However, the third girl reappeared with her bumbags unscathed. Deborah bit her lip. There were two older girls left in the Tank with her, if either one was called before her she would know that she was definitely in for a caning.

“Miss Wallace of the Fifth,” called the sergeant. Julie Wallace entered the HQ. Deborah listened intently; however, Julie also reappeared with her bumbags intact.

“Miss Cranfield of the Sixth,” called the Sergeant-at-Arms. Christy Cranfield stepped away from the wall. She and Deborah were tight and she gave Debs a sympathetic smile. When Christy went inside the Posh HQ Deborah waited with baited breath.

After a few moments she heard the crisp crack of the cane rebounding from Christy’s navy blues. Deborah counted the strokes. It was not good news. The explosive strokes of the cane echoed around the Tank six times. This did not bode well for Debs. The girls in the Tank were always called in the order of the number of strokes that they would receive. If an older girl had already got six Deborah had the feeling that things were about to get very hot and sweaty inside her bumbags.

“Miss Morton of the Fourth, you have entered a plea of not guilty of charges of Disobedience in the Second Degree,” said the Sergeant-at-Arms. “The Posh has deliberated and your defense has been successful. The charges are dismissed.”

Deborah resisted the impulse to grin.

“Miss Morton of the Fourth, you have entered a plea of not guilty of charges of Gross Insolence in the First Degree,” said the Sergeant-at-Arms. “The Posh has deliberated and your defense has been unsuccessful. You will receive nine pops of the ceremonial popping stick.”

Deborah tried not to flinch.

“Miss Morton of the Fourth, you have entered a plea of not guilty of charges of Disrespectful Behavior in the First Degree,” said the Sergeant-at-Arms. “The Posh has deliberated and your defense has been unsuccessful. You will receive nine pops of the ceremonial popping stick.”

Debs couldn’t help but grimace.

“However, due to the severity of these punishments you will receive nine strokes this evening and then return to the HQ after a twenty-four hour cooling down period,” continued the Sergeant-at-Arms. She turned to Pauline and helped the President out of her Posh coat and then handed her the ceremonial popping stick.

“Miss Morton of the Fourth, repair to the popping seat and prepare to be popped,” ordered the sergeant.

Deborah bent over the arm of the large over-stuffed leather armchair with her skirt turned back and waited to be caned. She couldn’t believe her bad luck. Nine strokes was the maximum that the Posh could sentence a girl to receive. Deborah Morton was quite certain that she was the first girl in history to receive a double max.

Earlier in the year Deborah had received her first maximum and had been deeply impressed. Debs had learned that no matter how hard they were delivered she could take a three or four stroke swishing without much inconvenience. It was painful of course but she could immediately go about her business with nothing more than a wriggle or a squirm.

Six of the best was a different animal. Deborah freely acknowledged that six was the perfect number for a caning. After a good, tight six she would feel that she had been appropriately punished. Her bottom would be hot and sore for a considerable period and the throbbing pulsations would be a constant reminder that she had just been thrashed.

Nine strokes was a different beast altogether. She had been totally unprepared for the exponential increase in the heat factor of the additional three strokes. It was the closest she had ever come to howling or blubbing.

It didn’t help that Pauline was an artiste. The President of Posh and Deborah were good friends and team-mates on the tennis team. Pauline always seemed relieved when Debs landed a not guilty verdict but nonetheless when she was required to beat her chum she was professional and businesslike.

The previous nine-stroke beating had been perfectly executed and had been a teeth-chattering, eye-watering experience for Debs. The aftermath had been sensational, Debs had retired to her study but it was hours before she could consider sitting down. Her flesh seemed to be sizzling and the deep under-burn made even the slightest movement excruciating.

Debs Morton gritted her teeth as Pauline tapped the ceremonial popping stick down once, twice and then thrice.

D is for Deplorable

Deborah was shocked to be summonsed before the Grand Dame. Grand Dame Jennings was a figurehead at the academy. Her primary function was to entice wealthy families to enroll their daughters at the exclusive school. She was rarely seen and to the best of Deborah’s knowledge no pupil aside from the President of Posh ever visited her quarters.

The interview was brief and disagreeable. The Grand Dame informed Deborah that in the future she would be required to carry with her a special disciplinary report card and at the end of each lesson the Dames would be required to grade her behavior. She would only be allowed three below average grades per week. In the event that she failed to maintain this standard she would be thrashed on Friday evenings without the opportunity to mount a defense.

The Grand Dame then proceeded to show Deborah her end-of-year report card with the word ‘Deplorable’ written in electric red ink.

Debs continued to stare at her reflection. Her behavior may have been deplorable but she was also remarkably disciplined. Her gifts were probably genetic. Her father was a Nobel Prize winning physicist.

Debs had learned to read young and devoured books on every subject. She learned to play the piano sitting in her mother’s lap and then migrated to the clarinet where she would become the youngest member of the National Youth Orchestra. Her ability to hit tennis balls had become apparent at an early age and after she had finished her homework, and practiced on the clarinet she would spend hours smashing tennis balls against a specially constructed training wall. At fourteen she became the national champion, unseating Rachel Cox who would later become an inmate at the Woody facility.

Despite her incongruous behavior traits she managed to publish a biography of Mary Queen of Scots and became the youngest applicant ever to be accepted at Camford on a non-scientific scholarship.

Deborah was bent over the popping seat with her skirt turned back. The effects of the previous night’s caning had not quite dissipated to the extent she would have liked. She had been truly impressed by the staying power of the thrashing. She had tried everything she knew to alleviate the irritation inside her bumbags. She had applied cold cream, icy wet flannels and even gone on a six mile run in an attempt to loosen things up.

The prospect of another nine-stroke-popping was unappealing in the extreme.

Deborah Morton had been embarrassed by Mr Armanisuit’s revelation that she was the most punished schoolgirl in recorded history but it didn’t surprise her. Her fifth year at the academy had been a disaster. During the complete academic year she had failed to achieve the minimum disciplinary standard prescribed by the Grand Dame and every Friday evening she was thrashed by the new President of Posh, Christy Cranfield.

Debs continued to be disciplined in her academic, artistic and sporting life and her behavior continued to be deplorable. The Grand Dame decreed that Deborah would be given the maximum of nine strokes until such time that she met the performance requirements. Friday nights were hot and sweaty. Christy and Debs were tight but the new President of Posh was given no alternative but to beat Debs with extreme prejudice. Grand Dame Jennings took the unusual precaution of personally coming to the Posh HQ to witness the Friday thrashings and ensure that Christy didn’t cut any slack. Debs was on a hiding to nothing.

Deborah straightened her tie in the mirror and looked herself up and down. Despite her athleticism she had always struggled with weight fluctuations. At five feet four she was not tall by professional tennis players’ standards and she was naturally curvaceous and rounded. She fastened her bright red house-sash around her waist and was pleased with what she saw. Recently her best chum, Rosemary Booker, had designed a new diet regime for Debs and it seemed to be working. Debs looked trim and even the unflattering gymslip seemed to show off her svelte figure to its best advantage. Debs smiled to herself.

D is for Debs

In the four years following her departure from the Queensgate Academy D unquestionably stood for Debs. It was almost impossible to open a newspaper or magazine without being greeted by a picture of Deborah Morton. With dogged determination and natural talent she ascended the Grand Prix ladder until at nineteen years old she was amongst the top ten female tennis players in the World.

The early years of Deborah’s professional tennis career were relatively uncontroversial. Her on-court manners were impeccable and her off-court articulation made her a spokesperson and ambassador for her generation. However, the wheels would suddenly fall off the wagon in Las Vegas.

Deborah had been invited to play in a high-dollar shoot-out at one of the city’s most extravagant hotels. Debs had never been to Vegas and was keen to explore the opulent night life the resort had to offer. Unfortunately Deborah had only recently celebrated her nineteenth birthday and the draconian federal laws would prohibit her from entering the casinos and bars of the city.

Unwisely Deborah contacted an old friend from her Queensgate days. Bernadette Summers knew about such things and was able to provide Debs with dodgy id that would satisfy the authorities.

Unbeknownst to Deborah she had long been featured on the System’s celebrity target list. She was classified as a warm target and only the subject of occasional surveillance. Occasionally her name would be mentioned in dispatches as a potential candidate for a trip to the Big House but unsportingly the Lawn Tennis Association offered the System a compromise and served them Rachel Cox’s bumbags on a platter.

Deborah’s Las Vegas sojourn might have gone unnoticed if she hadn’t won the one point five million dollar prize money. Paparazzi followed her everywhere and photographed her celebrating at Bellagio’s. Melissa Forsham-Smythe’s celebrity hit-team immediately upped her status to a hot prospect and the Dark Agents moved in.

Debs’ lawyers worked on a deal. She would be fined heavily by the Lawn Tennis Association and plead guilty to Misdemeanor Ladetting and would serve a two-year sentence at the Radcliffe Back to School unit. She would be allowed to continue to participate in European based competitions and represent the National Tennis team.

Deborah was pissed off and used her celebrity to publicly denounce the anti-Ladette laws. She won considerable public sympathy; however she had not taken into account the inordinate power and influence of Melissa Forsham-Smythe. Melissa was not about to allow a well-earned commission to be put in jeopardy by a whippersnapper like Debs and mobilized Armanisuit and his goons.

One of the terms of the deal thrashed out between Debs’ lawyers and the System was that prior to her starting her sentence at Radcliffe she would be subject to a strict midnight curfew. Despite her objections to the restrictive practice Deborah complied which pissed Melissa off royally.

Debs was at the summit of her success and for the first time she had reached the last four at Wimbledon. On the eve of her semi-final she had enjoyed a quiet dinner at a celebrity friendly restaurant with Christy Cranfield and Pauline Gascoigne. They had shared several dozen oysters and a bottle of wine while they reminisced about whops.

Deborah had left the restaurant at just after eleven with plenty of time to get back to her hotel and to get rested for her upcoming semi-final. She had started her car and driven off. After less than a hundred yards the car had inexplicably spluttered to a halt. Debs tried several times to restart the vehicle to no avail. Frustrated she got out and pushed the car up to the curb. She tried to start it one last time and without explanation the engine turned over perfectly.

Less than a hundred yards later the same thing happened. This time Debs waited a few minutes and when she turned the key the car started again. Frustratingly she barely made another hundred yards. She managed to move the car to a safe spot and decided to take a cab.

She called her probation officer to report her problem but got no response. It took almost half an hour to find a taxi and it was twelve fifteen before she arrived at her hotel.

The semi-final between Deborah Morton and Venus Saturn is considered to be one of the great games in history. A grueling brawl played in unseasonable heat, Deborah finally succumbed in a lengthy tie-break. Exhausted, she was packing her rackets when three Dark Agents of the System strode on court and roughly hand-cuffed her in front of hundreds of millions of television viewers.

Debs was taken to a secret silo of the System and charged with Extreme Ladetting for breaking curfew. The newspapers and news-stations owned by the Forsham-Smythe Corporation launched a virulent anti-Debs campaign calling her a degenerate and vilifying her as a bad example to British youth. Without being allowed a defense Deborah Morton was sentenced to seven years at the Big House without the possibility of parole.

At no time did the Forsham-Smythe newshounds mention the hard-boiled egg that had been discovered in the gas tank of Deborah’s vehicle, doubtless placed there by one of Armanisuit’s ruthless goons.

D is for Disgrace

Deborah ran her finger across the D embroidered on the cloth badge. It felt strange being back in the public eye. She was certainly Debs again but it was not her miraculous top-spin forehand cross-court passes or her uncanny ability to play backhand volleys with so much reverse spin that the ball would jump back towards the net that was garnering headlines; it was her bumbags.

Although the Grand Master had placed a moratorium on any member of the Brass or the inmates speaking to the press without the supervision of Jojo, the facilities spin doctor, the Forsham-Smythe hacks were relentless. Deborah’s old nemeses, Yvonne Godfrey and Janet Mitchell were happy to give great copy to the gutter rags.

Deborah’s chums tried to keep her from looking at the news but already the cartoonists were having a field day with the incident of the fabulous fart and running a daily series.

“She is a disgrace,” Mitch the Bitch had enthused to one newspaper. “Melissa Forsham-Smythe is absolutely right, Deborah Morton should be thrown in a cell and the key should be dropped in the moat. I did my best to control her but she is a degenerate.”

Rosemary came over to the mirror. “You shouldn’t read that stuff,” she scolded her chum. “They’re just taking advantage because you’re so famous.”

Debs grunted. “Not exactly the type of fame I aspire to,” she sighed, “but Nixdown will probably say I’ve planned this to get in the limelight.”

Rosemary giggled. “Nix is just a cynic but she loves you. Now sit down and let me brush your hair.”

Debs sat down. “Am I really such a disgrace?” she asked her chum.

“You know you’re not you old silly,” laughed Rosemary. “Look at that D on your chest. That stands for Debs.”

Deborah sighed. “I must be becoming institutionalized. I just want this whole thing over with and get back to a normal life. It’s come to something when I think of Woodys as a normal life.”

Rosemary just giggled and started to brush Deborah’s hair.

If you are enjoying the Toon Collection and the book-extracts and you have finished reading the complimentary Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber and still want to know more about the antics of the World’s greatest mega-mixes then cut along sharpish to the newly redesigned Woodettes Publication Page which gives direct access to the five volumes from the Woody Back to School Unit saga that are available for download for the very reasonable sum of $4.99 each. I have included a brief synopsis of the content of each book and of course I have kept the Free Preview Chapters available for your enjoyment.

Scorching Hot New Spanking Toon 14 – The Morton Special

Yesterday’s popular toon featured Nixdown indulging her penchant for pain. In stark contrast poor old Debs Morton is definitely not having much fun while she is bent over a piano stool in today’s rendition.

Many years ago I idly tapped out the sentence … ‘On Monday morning Ms Whitton bent Deborah Morton over a piano stool and beat her with a violin bow’. The origination of this phrase can be found in my earlier post ‘Bent over the piano stool and beaten with a violin bow’.

For some reason the phrase tickled me and over the years I returned to the theme on several occasions as can be seen in …. ‘The Fabulous Fart and Bacon Slicers’ and … ‘Caned by the KGB’ and … ‘Piano Stools Make Great Spanking Furniture’ … lol … you could call it an obsession.

The ‘Morton Special’ of the title refers to a customized violin bow commissioned by the deranged Music Dame, Ms Whitton, for the sole purpose of beating the bejaysus out of the bumbags of the unfortunate Debs.

For those of you interested in such trivia (and I must confess to being rather partial to spanking trivia myself) Ms Whitton commissioned this violin bow from an artisan in Southern Brazil who specialized in the rare art of crafting bows from Pernambuco wood. The bow-master had taken the original design of Francois Tourte’s seventy five centimeter bow and had perfected the balance of colophoany, oils and plasiticizeds to make bows of exceptional beauty. When she had commissioned the bow the Music Dame had requested an unusual stiffness, explaining that it would only be used for decorative purposes. For over a thousand quid the bow-maker would have made her a cricket bat out of the rare wood if she’d asked.

Ms Whitton had the craftsman engrave the words ‘The Morton Special’ along the shaft of the bow. It would be used exclusively on the backside of Debs Morton.

Just a word of warning! – The extract is a work of fiction … During our extensive experiments My Beloved Jojo and I acquired a violin bow for research purposes. I can assure you that despite having a certain poetic lyricism and looking good in a cartoon this is NOT and I repeat NOT an instrument that should be used for safe and consensual spanking (actually come to think of it … shouldn’t be used at all!) … I’m serious folks … Spank Safe!

On the other hand the piano stool Debs is bent over is an ideal venue for delivering a caning. It is really a duet bench rather than a stool. It was 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 laugh 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 strongly advise any reputable spanko to go on the net and acquire one and to hell with the recession.

Just one last snippet of trivia for the Woody buffs … I think Dave Ell really did a great job of capturing the deranged Music Dame and for anybody who cares the music that she most likes to whop to are rare recordings such as the Cante Flamenco recordings of Camaron del la Isla … I’m not kidding … go and download a few and play them while you’re studying the toon below … you’ll get the atmosphere … believe you me … music to whop to.

Ok before you send for the men in white coats … here’s the fabulous new toon … if you click on the version in the sidebar and zoom in you can really appreciate the detail that Dave puts into the illustrations … obviously I need wine … so I feel obliged to retire to the cellar … enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH

 

 

Just the usual polite reminder that Woodettes Publications purchased these illustrations along with the copyright. I have no objection to other sites using them as long as they are accompanied by appropriate acknowledgment to the source.

If you are enjoying the Toon Collection and the book-extracts and you have finished reading the complimentary Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber and still want to know more about the antics of the World’s greatest mega-mixes then cut along sharpish to the newly redesigned Woodettes Publication Page which gives direct access to the five volumes from the Woody Back to School Unit saga that are available for download for the very reasonable sum of $4.99 each. I have included a brief synopsis of the content of each book and of course I have kept the Free Preview Chapters available for your enjoyment.

Scalding Hot New Woody Toon 13 – Dangled in the Dungeon

No! Woodys has not built a dungeon … so today’s brand spanking new toon features Nixdown and Penny Ann indulging in some off-campus hanky-spanky.

During a furlough from the unit Nix and Penelope Ann Evans avail of Lady Victoria Brompton’s hospitality and pay a visit to the family ancestral pile, Brompton Castle. As I have previously reported the Nixdown character in these yarns is based upon a wonderfully degenerate spankette of my acquaintance.

Nixdown was interesting as she was one of the few spankettes I know of who does not subscribe to the Rasmussen Principle. Dagmar Rasmussen is a well-known Danish masochist who says that she enjoys the build up and the aftermath but that it’s a shame about the few minutes in the middle. Nix on the other hand was always adamant that under the right circumstances and with the right partners she actually enjoyed the physical pain. Hence the story-line.

Once again my appreciation and compliments to Dave Ell for his latest interpretation of my briefing. A companion story can be found at ‘Nixdown Nixon Dangled in the Castle Dungeons’.

Another original toon is scheduled for tomorrow so be sure to check back … enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH

 

Just the usual polite reminder that Woodettes Publications purchased these illustrations along with the copyright. I have no objection to other sites using them as long as they are accompanied by appropriate acknowledgment to the source.

If you are enjoying the Toon Collection and the book-extracts and you have finished reading the complimentary Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber and still want to know more about the antics of the World’s greatest mega-mixes then cut along sharpish to the newly redesigned Woodettes Publication Page which gives direct access to the five volumes from the Woody Back to School Unit saga that are available for download for the very reasonable sum of $4.99 each. I have included a brief synopsis of the content of each book and of course I have kept the Free Preview Chapters available for your enjoyment.

More Woody Toons Coming and an Open Invitation to Our Guests

Here’s a teaser from Woody Toon 14, scheduled to be posted this weekend so mark your calendars to enjoy more Woody misadventures.

I try to select extracts from the Woody Back to School books that I think will give our visitors a broad overview of the scale of the saga and that will help them become familiar with the cast of characters. I really do think that the cartoons help, particularly in showing the camaraderie of the sagas central characters … ‘The Famous Four’.

However, despite the success of Love our Lurkers day I still get very little feedback on which stories you have enjoyed, which characters you love/hate, or any ideas or improvements that you would like to see … RH doesn’t bite so leave a comment or drop me an email at Woodettes@gmail.com and I’d be happy to hear from y’all.

The new toon’s are scheduled to be posted on Friday and Saturday so until then just feel free to just hatch about the site and have a good rummage … enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH

If you have been enjoying the Toon Collection and the book-extracts and you have finished reading the complimentary Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber and still want to know more about the antics of the World’s greatest mega-mixes then cut along sharpish to the newly redesigned Woodettes Publication Page which gives direct access to the five volumes from the Woody Back to School Unit saga that are available for download for the very reasonable sum of $4.99 each. I have included a brief synopsis of the content of each book and of course I have kept the Free Preview Chapters available for your enjoyment.

The Sacking of Spanker Spage

Great news … we have two brand new Woody Toon’s ready for posting at the weekend (Here’s a teaser from Woody Toon 13) … in the meantime here is the concluding episode of the Spanker Spage saga.

In yesterdays installment we saw the odious bully Spanker Spage caught red-handed delivering an illegal bare bottom spanking to the unfortunate Little Brat, Jennifer Gardiner. As a result Spanker is booted out of the Elite and subjected to a public flogging. To add to her woes she is sentenced to act as Cathryn Cassidy’s personal grubby.

Cat Cassidy is the author of the Manifesto of Mega-minxdom and the spiritual leader of the cult of mega-minxes. She is a sworn enemy of the Secret Sorority of Serial Spankers and is delighted at the opportunity to give Spanker a taste of her own medicine.

This new extract comes from ‘Volume 3 – A Year of Sitting Painfully’, which is available for purchase over at the Woodettes Publications Page … so kick back and enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH

Spanker Spage was not amused; in fact she was blubbing like a muff. She was standing before the Grand Dame with her head bowed and tears running freely down her cheeks.

“You are our first failure, Spage,” Ms Lawton was telling her. “Over the past ten years I have been responsible for rehabilitating the worst examples of Ladette culture and our program has been an unmitigated success. However, it must be expected that there will always be one rotten apple in every barrel and you Spage are rotten to the core.”

Juliet Spage’s shoulders pulsated as she sobbed. “It wasn’t my fault,” she spluttered. “They made me do it.”

“Oh put a sock in it Spage,” snapped Ms Lawton. “You attempted to mace Cassidy and now you’re trying to blame others? You are completely beyond redemption Spage.”

Cathryn Cassidy took off her blazer and rolled up her sleeves. She loosened her tie and spat on her hands. “Come here Spage,” she said, sitting down on an armless chair.

Spanker Spage glared at her Personal Draper hatefully. The past six months had been a nightmare for the former member of the SS. Ever since Juliet had been kicked out of the Elite, and reduced to the role of a grubby, life had been tough. Every waking hour that Spanker was not attending lectures or in the study hall Cathryn kept her busy.

The other grubby’s had benefited greatly from Juliet’s reduced circumstances. When Cathryn ran out of errands for Juliet to run she loaned her out to other members of the Elite. Melons, Penny Ann and the Butcher Twins were more than happy to have Juliet relieve their own personal grubbys from duty as they put Spanker to work.

Spanker’s former cohorts from the SS had not proven to be a loyal bunch. They regularly mocked her when they came across her on the Elite landing. Yvonne Godfrey had even taken the opportunity to red card Juliet out of the assembly hall on two occasions causing her to receive twelve stroke bare benders from the Grand Dame.

Her former handler, Katie Beck, monitored Juliet’s laundry vigilantly and slippered her on marginal charges of clobber abuse.

The Wart targeted her ruthlessly during tutorials and alternated between beating her locally and red-carding her up to Ms Lawton’s office.

It was a miserable time for the once powerful Brat Draper and the worst of it was she had to contend with her most hated enemy, Cathryn Cassidy.

Cat had always been the most strident opponent of the Secret Sorority of Serial Spankers. Yvonne and her cronies had made it a policy to give Cat a wide berth whenever possible and wisely Spanker had never included Cat’s personal grubby in her serial spanking activities.

To be subjected to the ignominy of being forced to act as Cathryn Cassidy’s personal grubby was almost too much for Juliet to bear.

Juliet Spage was quite surprised when Yvonne Godfrey sidled up and started making all nice to her. The Commandant of the SS started by inviting her former aide down to one of her stash areas and plying her with booze and cigarettes. Yvonne made sympathetic noises about Juliet’s plight, even apologizing for red-carding her.

“It was all for the cause,” she explained. “Ms Lawton has us under ob’s and I needed to show her we weren’t cutting you any slack.”

Juliet grunted. She had known Yvonne a long time and knew only too well that she didn’t have a sympathetic bone in her body.

“You want something, don’t you?” she demanded.

Yvonne shrugged. “I need a favor,” she admitted. “That bitch Cassidy got me a whopping and she’s gonna pay for it! You’d love to see Cassidy get her comeuppance, now wouldn’t you my dear Spanker.”

Spanker Spage looked suspicious. “What do you want me to do?”

Yvonne reached into her pocket and extracted a small canister. “This is mace,” she told her former chum. “I want you to pitch up late for grubbing duties. Cassidy will be obliged to drape you. Just act normal and then when you’re in close spray this in her eyes. I’ll be waiting on the landing with Ivan. When she goes down we’ll come in and throw a sack over her head and wrap her up with duct tape. We’ll shove her in the closet for a few hours and then after lock-down we’ll sneak her over to the stables and thrash the shit out of her.”

“Oh good grief,” was all Spanker could think of to say.

Yvonne’s assessment that Cathryn had been responsible for the disagreeable twelve stroke whopping she had received from Patty Hodge was not entirely accurate.

As usual Yvonne had been acting the bollocks. She had been swaggering around the recreation area with her pack of cohorts looking for opportunities to score some cheap whops.

Cathryn Cassidy was the day’s nominated duty monitor and was positioned on the landing of the ornate stairway that led to the Main House. It gave her a perfect vantage point to observe all the areas of the recreation ground including the cloisters and the quadrangle. It was a warm day and most of the inmates were taking advantage of the good weather to get some fresh air. They were congregated in small pockets playing a variety of card games or backgammon or just plain kicking back and gabbing.

Cathryn spotted Yvonne and her chums swanking about the place. She sighed and made her way down the stairwell.

“What are you up to Godders?” she asked when she caught up with the SS. “I don’t need any assistance and especially not from you.”

“Oh put your fucking bumbags in it Cassidy,” replied Yvonne. “We’re just taking a stroll. We’ve got just as much right to the rec area as anybody else.”

“Well don’t start acting the bollocks on my watch,” said Cat threateningly, “I’ll be watching you.”

Yvonne just sneered. Cat returned to her look-out post, keeping a careful eye on the members of the SS.

Cat yawned and looked at her watch. She dearly wished that she could take a nap. The previous evening after the facility had been put under lock-down she had shimmied down a drainpipe and sneaked across the grounds. She had climbed over the wall of the orchard and into the arms of her boyfriend Mark who was waiting in his car.

Cat and Mark had met in a coffee shop in the nearby town and had been going hot and heavy ever since. Cat regularly broke out of the unit at night so that she could spend some quality time with her beau.

Her late night trysts had gone undiscovered but her relationship had nonetheless not been altogether beneficial to her bumbags. On several occasions she had missed curfews and been caned by the Duty Dames. On the third occasion Patty had insisted that she was paraded in front of the Beak and Ms Lawton had given her a severe scolding and a twelve-stroke bare bender. It had little effect and several weeks later when she cut curfew again Cathryn Cassidy became the first prefect in Woody history to be publicly flogged.

Cathryn continued to yawn. She hated being duty monitor. It was such a drag. She always did her best to cut the inmates as much slack as possible but during free-time, away from the strict discipline of the lecture rooms and study groups, they were always at their most rambunctious. It was a rare day that the duty monitor wasn’t obliged to take at least one inmate up to the library for a thrashing.

Cat watched Yvonne sauntering about, she and her cronies stopped several times at groups of inmates. Cathryn had little doubt that they were making snide comments and underlying threats but at least they moved on.

Cat looked at her watch again. Six-twenty. In the distance, several stragglers were ambling along the driveway, back from excursions into town, just in time for Callover. Below in the recreation areas the inmates were packing up their belongings and preparing to go back to the main building. Cat Cassidy wandered down the steps. It wouldn’t be long now, she figured, before she could cut along to her study and enjoy a much-needed power-nap.

Cathryn crossed the recreation area and followed the inmates into the building. They were making their way up the stairwells towards the landings so that they could put their kit away. She headed towards the assembly hall to help Penelope Ann oversee Callover.

“What the fuck are you doing?” growled Cathryn.

She had turned into a corridor and encountered Yvonne backing Rosemary up against a wall.

“She’s been smoking,” said Yvonne, “I can smell it on her breath. I’m searching her.”

Cathryn narrowed her eyes. “Did you find anything?”

Yvonne cut her eyes at Cat. “Mind your own business, Cassidy, I haven’t finished,” she snarled. “Raise your skirt,” she instructed Rosemary.

Rosemary Booker took the hem of her skirt and raised it. Yvonne reached over and ran her fingers around the waistband of Rosemary’s bumbags working front to back.

She reddened slightly when she came up empty. “I can still smell it on her breath,” she said defiantly.

“Yeah rock on, Godders,” said Cathryn Cassidy. “Come here Rosemary; let’s see if you pass a sniff test.”

Patty Hodge’s olfactory senses were legendary and she claimed that she could smell fag-breath at twenty paces. Patty was a smoking hypocrite. For thirty years she had been an on-again, off-again smoker and alternated between being an anti-fag zealot and defending her three-pack a day habit. She hadn’t smoked a cigarette for almost a week.

“Breathe out,” she instructed Rosemary.

“Bend over the desk you fucking imbecile,” Patty screeched into Yvonne’s face. “What were you thinking?”

“She’s on your fucking hit-list,” Yvonne screamed back. “You’re not whopping me for this!”

Patty stared at Yvonne. “You can bet your bottom dollar I’m whopping you for this. It’s reckless behavior like this that gets the SS a bad name. You’re lucky I don’t bring you up in front of an SS hearing and have you stripped of your rank as Commandant. Now bend over the desk before I summons Ivan to hold you down.”

“You are a truly rotten bitch, Patty,” said Yvonne through gritted teeth and then slowly she peeled off her blazer.

The macing had not gone well. As she had approached Cathryn Juliet had reached into her blazer pocket intending to palm the small canister. As sleight of hand went it had been particularly guileless and Cat had caught on fast. She leapt out of the seat and slapped Juliet’s hand aside, at the same time she stamped her right foot down on top of Juliet’s causing Spanker to roar out and take a tumble.

“What the fuck is this?” asked Cat, retrieving the canister from the floor. “Mace? You were going to fucking mace me? Oh you pathetic bitch,” she growled and toed Spanker in the ribs with the sharp point of her shoe. “Get up you little weasel, I rather fancy you won’t be sitting down again this week.”

“She tried to mace you,” said Penelope Ann insistently. “We need to report this.”

“I’ve taken care of her,” said Cat stubbornly.

“Taken care of it?” asked Patsy Butcher incredulously. “You’ve spanked her. What’s to stop her sneaking in and zapping you with chloroform while you’re sleeping?”

“She’s clearly deranged, Cat,” agreed Lindsey Butcher. “We need to deal with this.”

Even Melanie White nodded her consensus. “I’ve known you a long time Cat and I know you think you can take care of everything but this is just too far out where the buses don’t run. We don’t have any choice; we’ll have to involve the Beak in this one.”

“Hmmm,” grumbled Cathryn noncommittally.

“I could flog you and flunk you,” Ms Lawton told Spanker Spage. “Send you before a hearing of the System and put you back a few years to see whether we can’t beat some goodwill into you, but I think not. I’m going to sack you Spage and hand you over to the constabulary. You will be charged with attempted assault and possession of a prohibited substance. I rather think that you’re going to chokey Miss Spage and I for one hope that they throw away the key.”

“Naaaaawwwwwww!!!!” wailed Spanker Spage.

“You really didn’t have any choice,” said Mr Humphries over dinner.

“It’s a shame though,” sighed Susan Lawton. “Ten years without a single sacking and now with just ten days to go this happens.”

Mr Humphries smiled, “Well in ten days you’ll start your new life,” he told her cheerily, “and then it will become my problem.”

“Ten days is a long time at the Woody Back to School unit,” Susan sighed wearily.

If you are enjoying the Toon Collection and the book-extracts and you have finished reading the complimentary Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber and still want to know more about the antics of the World’s greatest mega-mixes then cut along sharpish to the newly redesigned Woodettes Publication Page which gives direct access to the five volumes from the Woody Back to School Unit saga that are available for download for the very reasonable sum of $4.99 each. I have included a brief synopsis of the content of each book and of course I have kept the Free Preview Chapters available for your enjoyment.

A Flogging for Spanker Spage

It seems like many of our visitors have a strong sense of justice and yesterdays account of the heinous bullies from the Secret Sorority of Serial Spankers getting their comeuppance proved very popular.

In the first of a two-part companion piece from Volume 3 – A Year of Sitting Painfully another one of the heinous goons from the SS, Juliet Spage, better known as ‘Spanker’ around the unit, is caught giving an illegal bare bottom slippering to an unfortunate Little Brat.

It’s cold, wet and miserable in Houston so My Beloved Jojo is cooking me some good old English comfort food and I’m gonna kick back and pour myself a glass of red … so enjoy the yarn and check back tomorrow for part-two … Bottoms Up! … RH

Jennifer Gardiner was draped face downwards across Spanker Spage’s lap with her skirt turned back and her bumbags concertinaed around her ankles. Spanker was applying the leather sole of one of Katie’s slippers to Jennifer’s backside with extreme vigor.

“What the dickens?” asked Ms Lummell in amazement. “What the devil do you think you’re up to Spage? Release her immediately!”

Juliet Spage stared aghast at the Riding Dame. This was not supposed to have happened. She had carefully planned the slippering to coincide with a staff meeting scheduled by Ms Lawton and a riding party to be out on the Downs. The stables were supposed to empty. She gaped at Ms Lummell.

“I said release her!” snapped the Dame tartly.

Slowly Juliet turned down Jennifer’s skirt and helped her to her feet. Jen crouched down and retrieved her bumbags and slipped them back into place. She threw a hostile glance at Spanker.

Jane Lummell wasted no time; she barreled down on Spanker and yanked her to her feet. She span the prefect around and took a tight grip on the scruff of her neck.

“Come with me!” she said authoritatively.

Juliet could do nothing but splutter and comply as she was hustled out of the stables under a full collar.

The quadrangle and recreation areas were bustling with activity but everybody stopped as the inmates witnessed the unusual sight of a member of the Elite being subjected to a collaring.

Juliet was an immensely unpopular member of the community and was one of the most active practitioners of the fine art of collaring. There was little sympathy for her plight.

“This is Elite business, Jane,” said Patty Hodge smoothly. “I’ll take care of Miss Spage myself.”

“I brought her here first out of courtesy,” said Jane Lummell firmly. “She’s going up before the Beak. Even Brats have rights, whether you like it or not. I’m giving you the opportunity to accompany us, Patricia, but I really couldn’t care less one way or the other.”

Patty scowled. “There is no need to be hasty, I’m sure that there is a perfectly good explanation, why don’t we let Miss Spage give us her version of events?”

Jane Lummell shook her head. “She’s coming with me,” she said spinning Juliet around and shoving her towards the door. “Are you coming, Patricia?”

Jane Lummell was a good old-fashioned jolly hockey sticks kind of cove. She served in the dual role of Dame in Charge of Physical Education and Riding. She fulfilled both roles with enthusiasm and dedication and was well-liked by the inmates. She generously gave up considerable amounts of her free-time with Deborah Morton and Rachel Cox to keep them in shape to eventually resume their tennis careers. She also helped numerous other celebrity athletes that had fallen foul of the Systems anti-Ladetting laws.

Jane was a fully paid up member of the Liberal Left of the Brass and was tight with Dotty Hammell, Stephanie Powell and Pauline Gascoigne. She was considered generally minx-friendly, nonetheless she was a strict disciplinarian and was lethal with both her over-sized rubber-soled plimsoll and her braided riding crop. She was considered reliable by the inmates and when she instructed them to bend over for whops there was rarely much doubt that they were well-deserved.

Patty did her best to intercede, claiming that protocols had been broken and that she had the first right of interview. It was not that she cared two figs about the fate of Spanker Spage; she just didn’t want the Grand Dame poking around in Radical Right business.

Ms Lawton fixed Patty with a withering glare. “This is bullying business, Patricia,” she said sharply, “and that is my business.”

Patty just shrugged. “You’re quite right, Susan,” she said unctuously and turned on Juliet. “Well Spage, aren’t you going to explain yourself?” she snapped spitefully. “The cat got your tongue?”

Dolefully, Spanker Spage stared down at the floor.

At first the prefect had claimed that the slippering was an isolated incident and she apologized profusely, even agreeing that a flogging was appropriate. However, further probing soon exposed the scale of the brutality she had inflicted upon the helpless Little Brats.

“Hand over your tie, blazer, badges and your ashplant,” the Grand Dame informed Juliet Spage in front of the assembled inmates. “You are formally stood down from the Elite.”

Juliet hung her head in shame. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she shrugged off her blazer and handed it Penelope Ann Evans. She loosened her tie and unknotted it and handed that over too.

“My ashplant’s in my study,” she muttered.

“It will no longer be your study, Spage,” Ms Lawton informed her coldly. “For the remainder of your sentence you will reside in the Brat Dorm and be returned to the Brat program. You will wear full clobber and I shall arrange for you to be scheduled in for grubbing duties. Although you will continue your educational curriculum as normal, to all extents and purposes you are now a Little Brat.”

Juliet continued to sob.

Ms Lawton looked over her classes. “You are in the final year of your Social Rehabilitation Program and you now have only six months left to prove to me that you have reformed. I shall be watching you carefully and I’m putting you on notice that if I see any signs of repetition of your bullying tendencies I will formally flunk you and send you before a Special Disciplinary hearing of the System. Now bend over the horse. I intend to flog you soundly.”

The poor beleaguered Little Brats watched with satisfaction as Spanker Spage folded her frame over the vaulting horse. She had not gone quietly, she had wept and pleaded that she was not responsible. She blamed Patty and Katie and Yvonne for instructing her to perform the illicit slipperings. Ms Lawton curtly cut her short and instructed her to bend over the horse.

“I will have you held down if necessary,” she promised Spanker.

Spanker made a muff of herself. She squealed and screamed and kicked up such a brouhaha that the watching inmates had to hide their mouths with their hands to keep from giggling.

There was no question that public floggings were tough duty. Being folded in half across a vaulting horse with the full compliment of the inmates and Brass staring at her upturned arse was no fun for a gal. Nonetheless, ever since April Turner had taken the first ever public flogging in stoic silence the Woody gals had prided themselves in the manner with which they conducted themselves when obliged to grace the stage.

The manner with which Juliet Spage was conducting herself was beginning to give her the pip.

“Good grief, Spage,” she barked. “Cease those ridiculous noises or I’ll really give you something to howl about.”

The inmates chuckled at that.

Spanker Spage was making a muff of herself. She was dancing an idiot gig and rubbing her backside frantically.

“Stand still, you foolish gal,” snapped Ms Lawton, “I have never seen such a pathetic performance. Now stand still this instant before I cane you again.”

Juliet Spage looked haggard and bereft of dignity, standing on the stage with her white tieless blouse buttoned to the throat and white whopping bags. The small amount of make-up she was allowed to wear was smudged and her hair looked lank and unkempt. Her eyes were red-rimmed and her nose was dripping.

Patty Hodge gaped at the Grand Dame. She gnashed her teeth and wrung her hands in consternation. Ms Lawton had just announced that Cathryn Cassidy would replace Juliet in the role of Senior Brat Draper. To Patty it was an unforgivable act of betrayal by Ms Lawton. She had made the decision unilaterally without consultation with her deputy. Patty hurried from the stage and headed for the saloon bar of the Bunch of Grapes.

Katie gaped at Ms Lawton. “She’s telling you a pack of porkies,” she insisted. “I most certainly did not lend her one of my slippers; she must have snuck into my office and stolen it.”

Ms Lawton rolled her eyes. She had little doubt that her adopted daughter was being economical with the truth but she had no hard evidence that Katie had acted as Spanker’s sponsor.

“Be careful, Katie,” she told her ward. “I’m watching you.”

… To be continued …

If you are enjoying the Toon Collection and the book-extracts and you have finished reading the complimentary Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber and still want to know more about the antics of the World’s greatest mega-mixes then cut along sharpish to the newly redesigned Woodettes Publication Page which gives direct access to the five volumes from the Woody Back to School Unit saga that are available for download for the very reasonable sum of $4.99 each. I have included a brief synopsis of the content of each book and of course I have kept the Free Preview Chapters available for your enjoyment.

Just Desserts for the Secret Sorority of Serial Spankers

During the year known in Woody lore as ‘Operation Scorched Arse’ the inmates of the facility have a particularly tough time of it. Ms Lawton, the Grand Dame of the day, is determined to quell the rampart rise of mischief and mayhem and to stamp out the anarchic and subversive subterranean Cult of Mega-minxdom. She declares open season on the bumbags of the inmates.

Patty Hodge and her cohorts on the Radical Right have a field day and the corridors are soon filled with the sounds of canes, straps and slippers rebounding of the tautened gossamer bumbags of their hapless victims. Patty enrolls Yvonne Godfrey as Commandant of a heinous branch of the Elite code-named ‘The Secret Sorority of Serial Spankers’ and orders her to implement a program of extreme prejudice. The inmates find themselves being dispatched to the punishment in droves by Godders and her cronies to touch their toes for whops delivered on bogus charges.

The mega-minxes refuse to be cowed and anarchy prevails. Inspired by the leadership of Cat Cassidy, Lady Vix and the Famous Four the inmates embark on an epic spree of serial malfeasance and the whop-rate spirals to an all-time high.

Eventually as she contemplates her retirement Ms Lawton is forced to admit that the operation has back-fired and is determined to make amends to the beloved gals in her custody. On the eve of her departure she arranges for the Brass to be off campus and leaves the unit in the hands of the newly appointed Red-shirt, Lady Victoria Brompton.

This extract is taken from Volume 4 – The Inmates Strike Back, which is available for purchase at the Woodettes Publications page … it’s Sunday, kick back, have a mimosa or a Bloody Mary and enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH

The library was jammed to the gills. The inmates had clambered up on the bookshelves and were sprawled on every inch of floor or flat surface.

Jackie Ivanhoe entered the library on her hands and knees. She was disheveled, her blouse ripped and a bruise was beginning to swell over her right eye. Jackie Ivanhoe was howling. Behind her Claire Brooks was whipping an ashplant across Ivan’s hindquarters. Janet Mitchell was boohooing. Lady Vix escorted her into the library under a full collar.

“Lemme go I tell you,” the Bitch was yelping as Lady Vix roughly propelled her forward.

The New Elite surrounded Yvonne Godfrey and Jayne Underly. Godders looked surly but resigned. Undies was scowling.

Cassie Cassy had placed four chairs in the middle of the room. The SS were unceremoniously ushered to the chairs and made to climb up and place their hands on their heads.

Lady Victoria Brompton stood looking up at the tearful SS; she was playfully slapping the long oval shaped hairbrush in her hand.

“Eeny, meanie, miny, mo,” she giggled, “Catch a meanie by her bumbags.”

The Woody gals roared with delight.

Lady Vix crooked her finger at Janet Mitchell. “Ok Bitchypoo, comest thee hither,” she grinned.

Despite Yvonne Godfrey’s rank as Commandant of the Secret Sorority of Serial Spankers, it was Mitch the Bitch who had finally tipped the scales of justice in the direction of the beleaguered minxes and Vix was not about to let her forget it.

The Bitch looked terrified as she stepped down from the chair. “Look here Vix,” she sniffled, “it’s not fair you know. It was all Yvonne and Patty’s plans. They made me help them.”

Vix just smiled and took Janet by the wrist and led her towards the spanking stool. The Bitch dug her heals in and pulled back.

“P … P … Please Vix,” blubbed Janet.

“That’s Your Ladyship to you!” snapped Victoria, “and put your bumbags in it willya, you’re giving me the pip.”

Lady Victoria Brompton was perched up on the spanking stool with Janet Mitchell dangled over her knee. Janet’s bumbags were around her ankles and the skirt of her gymslip had been neatly folded back.

“Hmm,” said Lady Vix, “let’s see how this works,” and brought the wood backed hairbrush down with a resounding smack. Mitch the Bitch let out a shriek.

“Stoppit I tell you, you can’t do this,” she howled.

SPLAT!!!!!!!! The hairbrush collided with Janet’s upturned arse for a second time.

Lady Vix giggled, “Whoa, what do you think sisters?”

The library was in an uproar. The Woody gals were jeering and cheering at the sight of the hated Bitchypoo getting her comeuppance. Lady Vix warmed to her work. Her arm pumped up and down, landing spank after spank with meticulous precision. Janet wriggled and squirmed and howled, helpless to do anything but dangle. After a few moments and a barrage of spanks Lady Vix grinned up at the crowd of giggling inmates.

“Well I think I’ve got the hang of this. Whadya think Bitchypoo?”

Janet Mitchell was wriggling and squirming, snuffling and snorting. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks.

Lady Vix grinned wickedly. “I only think it fair that you take a pop or two Debs,” she chuckled.

Deborah Morton did not need to be invited twice. She strode forward and seized the hairbrush.

“NNNNOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!” squealed Janet.

Deborah Morton brought the hairbrush down with all her might. “Whoa Debs,” giggled Lady Vix, “don’t you be breaking my fine new brush.”

Deborah winked. For Debs revenge was sweet and every long hot minute that Janet had orchestrated for her to spend dangling over Penelope Ann’s knee, every time she had been chucked out of assembly, and even worse the chapel on visitation day and every vicious, spiteful remark from Janet needed to be accounted for. Debs cracked the hairbrush downwards. The former professional tennis player seemed intent on delivering straight aces.

The Bitch was now kicking her legs with wild abandon. Her face was covered by her hands and she shook and sobbed and blubbed. Her bottom was crimson and swollen as the hairbrush continued to rebound up and down.

Janet Mitchell had a pampered past. She had spent her life unctuously sucking up to the Brass and wriggling out of punishments more often than not, even if it meant her sneaking and causing some unsuspecting inmate to be beaten.

Lady Vix allowed Deborah to deliver a very crisp six, and then one for luck. Next she invited any gal who had felt the sting of Janet’s ashplant to step forward, asking them how many occasions they had been whacked by the prefect and giving them the opportunity to give her a crack with the hairbrush as a reminder for each occasion. Thus, Lisa Sutton got to slap the brush down six times, Cassie Cassy and the Bounder got in three good whaps apiece and then a bevy of gals got a good hard shot at Janet’s scarlet arse.

For Janet the humiliation of being spanked by gals who had recently been her subordinates was too much. She wailed and flailed and Lady Vix had to struggle to keep her across her knee.

By the time all the gals had got their whaps in Janet Mitchell’s backside was a deep purple; clearly she was not going to be able to sit down for a week. Lady Vix leant over and took a hold of Janet’s collar and yanked her roughly to her feet. As soon as her feet hit the floor the prefect’s hands shot back and she began to furiously rub whilst dancing an idiot jig.

“You’re pathetic,” Lady Vix said scornfully, “now get back on that chair and cease those ridiculous noises before I take a cane to your arse.”

Although Yvonne Godfrey was a spiteful bully she was made of sterner stuff than Janet and was far from a muff. When Lady Vix waggled her finger at her the disgraced prefect climbed down from the chair with a look of haughty disdain on her face. Godders approached the spanking stool unhurriedly, her lip curling slightly.

“What ever you dish out Brompton I can take it, you’ll never make me howl.”

Yvonne was a remarkably pretty gal, tall and slender. Her long neck and noble features gave her an air of aristocracy. She always wore her hair bundled up on top of her head so her natural curls framed her face. She had shone at academic studies and at sport. However Yvonne Godfrey was fatally flawed. Her superiority complex distanced her from most of the inmates and her scheming vindictiveness regularly resulted in her adversaries ending with their bumbags being torn to tatters. Unlike Janet Mitchell, Yvonne’s backside had not been pampered. Although she had never reached the giddy heights of mega-minxdom her tally of thrashings was notable for an inmate of her generation. Her ascendancy to the leader of the SS was clearly destiny; her reputation of treating the more junior inmates with disregard was legendary long before she bent over the vaulting horse to be ceremoniously thrashed into the Elite. Even a sideways glance from a Brat earned them a cuff around the ear or a painful Chinese burn. Godders was a thorough rotter.

Yvonne had calmly allowed herself to be dangled across Lady Vix’s lap. As she had sprawled forward she had hissed, “Hot as you like fuckwit.”

Lady Victoria Brompton had learned a thing or two about dangling in her years at Woodys. She took her own sweet time about rearranging Godders clobber, fiddling and folding, knowing that despite her show of bravado Yvonne would be beginning to feel an unpleasant agitation while her bottom was being meticulously bared.

Once Victoria had finished preparing Miss Godfrey she looked thoughtfully down at the upturned derriere. There was no question that Yvonne Godfrey had been the most evil and conniving member of the Elite to emerge since the unforgettably cruel regime of Katie Beck. There was an ample supply of gals in the library who deserved a piece of Godder’s arse. Lady Victoria Brompton tucked Yvonne in tightly to the crease of her lap and invited her victims to step forward.

“Get on with it Brompton, bring it on,” hissed Yvonne defiantly.

“Shut it!” the aristocrat snapped, “If we need your opinion we’ll ask for it,” and gave the former commandant a solid thwack of the brush.

“Fuck you Brompton,” sneered Yvonne so Victoria whapped her twice more.

Almost two dozen gals were lined up itching to get in their whops. Rosemary Booker, remembering the humiliating lunchtime licking, blistered the bare behind with considerable gusto. Cassie Cassy, whom Yvonne had treated particularly spitefully, proved she could give it out as impressively as she could take it.

One by one the gals who had been forced to proffer their backsides for Yvonne’s entertainment got a shot at payback. Godders was finally beginning to show some action; her legs had begun to scissor and her bottom was gyrating beneath the onslaught. Her breath was coming in heavy pants and she was emitting low impassioned moans as the hard wood of the hairbrush scalded her backside.

When Lisa Sutton stepped up Victoria stopped her. “I seem to remember she gave you a particularly hard time earlier this year,” she asked.

“The fucking bitch gave me six low riders,” replied Lisa.

“Low riders,” hollered Cassie Cassy, “We want low riders.”

“Low riders!” echoed the Woody gals. “Give her Low Riders!”

“You wouldn’t fucking dare,” growled Yvonne.

“Oh wouldn’t I now?” chuckled Her Ladyship.

Yvonne Godfrey bent over and touched her toes. The former prefect had inelegantly shuffled to the fireplace with her bumbags circled around her ankles. With her bottom already burning she was not looking forward to suffering the further indignity of being caned but she had resigned herself to her fate and she was determined that she would not be remembered as a muff.

Yvonne Godfrey clenched her teeth. She had been a great proponent of Low Riders. She liked nothing better than to cruelly swipe her ashplant across the sulcus of the unsuspecting inmates, often causing them to leap up and hop like deranged folk.

Lisa Sutton took aim and sliced the ashplant downwards. Yvonne felt the slice of the cane as it collided with the fleshy fold at the bottom of her buttocks and the accompanying stripe of white heat that sent her into paroxysms of agitated agony. Despite her determination to remain silent Yvonne Godfrey hissed like a scalded cat.

Yvonne Godfrey was a shadow of her former haughty self as she hobbled painfully across the library. She was swearing and cussing up a blue storm. “I’ll fucking kill you Brompton, you mark my words,” she threatened. “I’ll come back and haunt you and murder every one of you in your beds.”

“Yeah, rock on Godders,” laughed Victoria. “I’m pooping in my bumbags; now quit your bitchin’ before I put you back over my knee.” The newly appointed Red-shirt turned her attention to Miss Jacqueline Ivanhoe.

Ivan the Terrible looked like a train-wreck. When the New Elite had arrived at her study Jackie Ivanhoe had tried to resist. Big and burly she had used her physical presence to intimidate the smaller inmates. However, Lady Vix was in no mood for resistance and for the second time in the space of a year she bopped Ivan the Terrible on the nose, dumping her on her oversized arse. In an ensuing scuffle Ivan’s blouse had been ripped and her left eye was swollen. As she had tried to scamper away on all fours Claire had swiped an ashplant across her hindquarters, and then perceiving this as a wizard wheeze, Claire had proceeded to whip Ivan all the way to the library.

Stepping off the chair Ivan the Terrible looked bedraggled and tremulous. Her reputation as the SS’s enforcer had made her many enemies. Although she rarely beat gals herself, it was commonplace to see some poor unfortunate being hustled through the corridors on their way to the library, their arms twisted painfully behind them and Ivan’s iron grip on the scruff of their necks.

The words “Collar that gal,” were amongst the most dreaded. Katie Beck had introduced collaring some years before, but it didn’t become common practice until Yvonne Godfrey had instructed Jackie Ivanhoe to collar poor Lisa Sutton. Delighted with themselves, the SS added the additional discomfort of twisting the gal’s arm behind her. The height of Ivan the Terrible meant that most gals could hardly touch the floor as they were unceremoniously propelled through the facility.

Tears were slowly rolling down her face as she approached Lady Vix. When the new Red-shirt took her wrist to lower her across her lap Ivan pulled back. Lady Vix turned Jackie Ivanhoe’s hand palm up and brought the hairbrush down with a crack.

Ivan howled, hopping from foot to foot, squeezing her hand under her armpit.

“Now over and up Ivan,” Lady Vix snapped, “this minute.”

Lady Victoria Brompton cut a fine figure perched up on the spanking stool with Ivan the Terrible dangled over her knee. She was staring down at Ivan’s enormous behind in amusement.

“Now this is going to take some warming,” she mused.

Methodically Lady Vix worked up one side and down the other. Jackie Ivanhoe was not taking it meekly; the library was filled with her squeals as Victoria reddened her bum.

The Woody gals watched intently. Clearly Lady Victoria was cut out for this line of business.

“Yikes,” whispered Jojo, “that is one knee I don’t fancy bending over.”

Lady Vix was amongst the most revered gals in the unit. She was admired and adored for her courageous defense of the underdog, despite the often-painful consequences to herself. Victoria Brompton had frequently been flogged for protecting weaker gals from bullies, but now she had the unit’s most notorious bully clearly in her sights.

This was one spanking that everyone agreed was down to Vix. “Go Vix go! Go, go, go!” the inmate whooped and hollered as Lady Victoria warmed to her work.

Jackie Ivanhoe was boohooing as Vix slapped down the brush, every inch of her voluminous behind was painted a vivid crimson. She kicked and squirmed and shook her head from side to side; she was howling and begging Vix to stop.

“Pleeeeeeeeeeeaaasee,” she shrieked, “I’m on fire.” So Vix gave her another crack.

“What a fucking muff,” giggled Nixdown.

“Well that’s some damn fine spanking,” laughed Jojo.

“Go Vix, go, go, go,” whooped Rosemary.

Standing on the chair with her hands on her head had given Jayne Underly time to ruminate on the untoward circumstances she found herself in. Watching the proceedings made her more and more surly by the moment. The injustice of her situation boiled inside her. Jayne did not consider herself a hard-core SS member. Sure, she had joined Yvonne and Janet’s odious conspiracy to ensure Deborah Morton spent as many moments dangled over Penelope Ann’s knee as possible. But hadn’t Debs harnessed her with the undignified nickname of Undies? And yes she had supported Spanker Spage in her crusade to make the lives of the Little Brats a nightmare. But she had treated her personal grubby well, only spanking her for her own good. And she had only thrashed gals when absolutely necessary. For her to be included in the same category as Godders, the Bitch, and Ivan the Terrible struck her as ludicrous.

Stepping down from the chair Jayne Underly glowered at Lady Vix. “If you think I’m going to stand for this you are greatly mistaken,” she said heatedly. “I’m outta here.” With that she spun on her heel and headed towards the door.

Lady Vix looked calm, “I have no intention of you standing for anything,” she laughed, bringing the roof down. “Any volunteers to collar that fool?”

The Bounder was on Jayne in a flash. Jayne vainly tried to struggle free but Bernadette Summers was having none of it. The disgraced prefect found herself being marched across the room with the Woody gals applauding and stomping their feet.

“Whoa, way to go Bounder,” giggled Jojo.

“Fucking A,” cheered Nixdown

“This ain’t fair,” wailed Undies, “what I ever do to you?”

“You tried to get Penelope Ann flogged!”

Everyone turned towards the doorway. Melanie White was strolling into the library. She was followed by Cat, Penny Ann and the Butcher twins.

“Wha’da’ya’mean?” spluttered Jayne.

Melons approached Jayne Underly, a confident smile on her face. “Oh I think you know precisely what I mean, Undies. Two years ago, a small matter of a fire in the stables.”

“Hey,” squeaked Jayne, “that wasn’t me, it was Spanker Spage, honest it was. The fire was her fault and she threatened to beat me up if I said anything.”

The inmates listened intently. They all remembered this mysterious fire in the stables and Penelope Ann being subjected to intense sweating to reveal the perpetrators. Pen had even been dragged on stage fully attired for a public flogging but had still refused to snitch. Fortunately at the last moment sanity had prevailed and Ms Lawton had accepted that flogging Penny Ann served little purpose and had finally let the matter rest. It had remained one of the great unsolved mysteries of the Woody community.

Jayne Underly had turned as white as a ghost and looked as if she might faint. “It was Spanker, I tell you,” she said lamely. “It was all Spanker’s fault.”

The inmates were all glaring at her. Under the Woody code of honor there was no behavior that could be conceived as any lower than stitching up another inmate for a flogging.

Jayne Underly was not feeling much love in the library.

Lady Victoria slid off the spanking stool. “Perhaps you’d like to take over from here Penny Ann,” she suggested.

Pen grinned and shook her head. She pointed over at Yvonne, Janet and Ivan who were all standing on their chairs with their hands on their heads looking distinctly forlorn. “You looking like you’re doing fine,” she told the aristocrat. “Carry on … unless of course …,” she stopped and looked across the room.

Nixdown met Penny Ann’s gaze. “Just hand me that fucking hairbrush,” she told Victoria emphatically.

Lady Vix just nodded and stepped away from the stool.

“You can’t be fucking serious,” wailed Jayne. “Look at her she’s deranged. Please Penny Ann, help me, I didn’t mean you any harm. It was just a big misunderstanding that got out of control. Please, please help me, she’s fucking barking.”

“Woof, woof,” laughed Nixdown and grabbed Jayne by the wrist.

If you are enjoying the Toon Collection and the book-extracts and you have finished reading the complimentary Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber and still want to know more about the antics of the World’s greatest mega-mixes then cut along sharpish to the newly redesigned Woodettes Publication Page which gives direct access to the five volumes from the Woody Back to School Unit saga that are available for download for the very reasonable sum of $4.99 each. I have included a brief synopsis of the content of each book and of course I have kept the Free Preview Chapters available for your enjoyment.

The Famous Four – New Star Attractions on Facebook and Twitter

Well actually not; however I have noticed an intriguing trend in the ‘Search Engine Terms’ used to find the Woody Back to School Unit. An increasing number of surfers are roaming the net looking for information on Jojo Heyworth, Nixdown Nixon, Debs Morton and Rosemary Booker. Out of curiosity I did a quick rummage myself and I can assure you that none of the Facebook entries, professional resumes, or other biographical information that I uncovered relates to the notorious, world-famous, but wholly fictitious inmates of the Woody Back to School Unit.

From the outset, my goal with the Woody Back to School Unit saga was to create a central cast of characters and set the stories in a consistent and recognizable environment. Well, if people are now searching for the characters by name I must have gone some way towards achieving that goal.

Maybe I should set the gals up with their own Facebook and Twitter accounts, but even by my standards that might be a little quirky.

I started this blog as an experiment when I was investigating potential outlets for self-publishing and advertizing the Woody Back to School Unit saga. Although this remains an objective and eventually I will make all thirty-six volumes available from Woodette Publications the blog itself has taken on a life of its own and as they say in the trade we’re going gang-busters!

I would like to take the opportunity to extend my appreciation to Thomas and Cookie, and Richard Windsor for hosting and managing ‘The Spanking Blogger’s Network’ and ‘The Spanking Universe’, respectively. These are not-for-profit community projects that offer the whole spanking blogging community a great opportunity to publicize our work and attract a shed-full of new visitors. So thanks to Thomas, Cookie, and Richard, link into the sites and don’t forget to add links to the gracious hosts’ and hostess’s web-sites on your blog-rolls.

Just a quick reminder that I’ve updated the PowerPoint slideshow that contains the complete Woody Toon Collection in the sidebar. It’s a little slow to load but worth the wait. Once you’ve downloaded the show just hit ‘F5’ on your keyboard to view the full-screen version and check out all the little details and embellishments that Dave Ell adds in the background of the Toon’s.

Anyway evening draws in so I’m going to watch my recording of the Chelsea vs. Blackburn game and then I’m going to kick-back with Jojo and chow down on a lavish banquet of Indian food … but feel free to stick around and have a good rummage around the site … there’s lot’s to see and read so you won’t be disappointed … enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH

If you enjoy the Toon Collection and the book-extracts and you finish reading the complimentary Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber and still want to know more about the antics of the World’s greatest mega-mixes then cut along sharpish to the newly redesigned Woodettes Publication Page which gives direct access to the five volumes from the Woody Back to School Unit saga that are available for download for the very reasonable sum of $4.99 each. I have included a brief synopsis of the content of each book and of course I have kept the Free Preview Chapters available for your enjoyment.

Hot! Hot! Hot! – Woody Toon 12 – Debs Creamed!

Absolutely Creamed! … I love that expression … in an earlier post I explained the derivation but I think it’s worth repeating.

Many years ago I had arranged to meet my old friend Nixdown in a North London pub. She arrived in a state of self-satisfied excitement. She had spent the weekend playing with her lover of the day, an exceptionally buxom English rose who would become Penelope Ann Evans in my Woody Back to School Unit stories (name changed naturally) and was keen to spill the beans about her latest misadventures.

Apparently they had been indulging in a ‘schoolie’ themed play session and had been experimenting with a new cane. Nix told me that she had been taunting her lover that she wasn’t hurting her (this sounded typical of Nixdown) so apparently her playmate got annoyed and Nix reported, rather smugly, that she “bent me over the desk and absolutely creamed me.” I nearly choked on my beer when she offered up that little gem.

Once again Dave Ell has done a wonderful job of comprehensively capturing the essence of the accompanying story extracted from Volume 3 – A Year of Sitting Painfully of the Woody Back to School Unit saga (see below).

I’ve updated the PowerPoint slideshow containing the complete Woody Toon Collection in the sidebar. It’s a little slow to load but I think you’ll agree that it’s worth the wait. Once you’ve downloaded the show just hit ‘F5’ on your keyboard to view the full-screen version and check out all the little details and embellishments that Dave adds in the background of the Toon’s.

So without further ado here’s the new toon and the story featuring poor old Debs Morton getting absolutely creamed … it’s Friday so kick-back, slurp down a glass of vino and enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH

 

 

Before the story, just the usual polite reminder that Woodettes Publications purchased these illustrations along with the copyright. I have no objection to other sites using them as long as they are accompanied by appropriate acknowledgment to the source.

Deborah slithered her chest across the desktop and reached down and gripped the legs on the far side. She heard Ms Gascoigne approaching and waited to be caned.

Pauline Gascoigne tapped the legs of the desk with the tip of her cane. “Reach down further,” she told Debs.

Deborah stretched over a little.

“Further,” Pauline instructed her.

Debs pushed her legs up and slithered even further forward. She was bent so far over the desk that if she went forward any further she was in danger of tumbling down and landing on her head. Deborah Morton was acutely aware that her backside was stuck up in the air in the most prominent position physically possible. She felt as if her backside might shortly eclipse the sun. She was beginning to sweat.

Pauline Gascoigne neatly turned back the hem of Deborah’s navy blue pleated skirt and then retrieved her cane. She stepped to one side and unhurriedly began her preparations, taking her measure and tapping the cane down once, twice and then thrice. She raised her arm and sliced the whippy rattan stick through the air, landing it crisply across the sweet spot of Debs’ bottom with an explosive crack. Even Deborah’s whop-hardened inmates were impressed.

Deborah Morton was in little position for refined analysis. Her backside was a well-calibrated whopometer and the first strike was enough to confirm that being absolutely creamed was not going to be much fun. The heat of the cane lashing across her backside ricocheted around her central nervous system like a pinball.

Pauline Gascoigne was widely popular amongst the inmates. She was considered even-handed and minx-friendly. Nonetheless, she was highly respected around the community as a consummate artiste with a cane. She hardly seemed to be trying but there was little doubt in anybody’s mind that she was giving Deborah a power-whopping.

Pauline Gascoigne prided herself that she could administer discipline dispassionately. During her period as the President of Posh at the Queensgate Academy she rarely had to use her casting vote. Most cases were open and closed and when required she was merely responsible for delivering the punishment as safely as possible. Nonetheless, she was quite irritated by Deborah’s ridiculous performance.

Deborah Morton was beginning to deeply regret her ill-fated attempt at revenge. The cane was colliding with her bumbags with alarming ferocity. She was feeling quite giddy.

Pauline Gascoigne took her time. Despite her initial irritation at Deborah’s guileless prank she had taken several deep breathes and regained her composure.

The previous day she had caned Debs on routine business after she had continued to goof after several verbal warnings and a yellow card. Pauline had delivered a good crisp six that she had expected would give the errant inmate something to think about for a few days. Clearly the six had not been quite stiff enough so she felt obliged to step up the pace. She raised her arm and brought the cane down with a mighty crack.

Debs hung over the desk panting. Five strokes in and just one left to go. Her backside was already throbbing incessantly. She braced herself for what she suspected was going to be a very grand finale. She heard a whistle from behind her and then her whole body wriggled and writhed in distress as the long thin cane rebounded from her bumbags with nerve-jangling, teeth-chattering force.

Deborah handed over her punishment record book with trembling fingers. Her cheeks were ashen and she had a slightly bemused look on her face.

Debs was no newcomer to being soundly thrashed. She had an unfortunate tendency of bringing out the worst in the Brass and the Elite. Nonetheless, she couldn’t help thinking that her most recent excursion across her desk had been something rather special.

Barely able to keep from hopping up and down on the spot, Deborah Morton now fully comprehended what it meant to be absolutely creamed.

If you have been enjoying the Toon Collection and the book-extracts and you have finished reading the complimentary Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber and want to know more about the antics of the World’s greatest mega-mixes then cut along sharpish to the newly redesigned Woodettes Publication Page which gives direct access to the five volumes from the Woody Back to School Unit saga that are available for download for the very reasonable sum of $4.99 each. I have included a brief synopsis of the content of each book and of course I have kept the Free Preview Chapters available for your enjoyment.

Red-Hot New Woody Toon – Dangled in the Library

As promised here is the full version of the new and exclusive Woody Toon 11 featuring Jojo, Nixdown and Lady Victoria Brompton.

As usual my appreciation and compliments to the outstanding artist Dave Ell for interpreting yet another of my briefs with his inimitable style and attention to detail … Bottoms Up Dave!

Lady Victoria Brompton, or Lady Vix as she is generally known, fulfills the all-powerful role of Red-shirt at the Woody Back to School Unit and is the leader of the prefectorial body known as the Elite. Outside the lecture rooms Lady Vix is the de facto steward of the facility and responsible for ensuring that the unit doesn’t reduce into total chaos and anarchy.

Lady Victoria is a popular choice with the inmates as she fought beside them on the front line during Operation Scorched Arse in the epic rebellion against the atrocities of Patty Hodge’s goons on the Radical Right and their tyrannical stooges, the Secret Sorority of Serial Spankers. Lady Vix was raised in the rough and tumble of Brompton Castle where her four brothers taught her to box and wrestle in the sprawling grounds. Many of the weaker inmates at the facility have had good reason to be grateful to Victoria when she has confronted members of the bullying classes and fearlessly stuck up her dukes.

As Red-shirt she is considered fair and judicious, although, as you can see, she takes her duties very seriously and wields her ceremonial hairbrush with great effect.

When Jojo and Nixdown find themselves being banished to wait outside the library they know that they thoroughly deserve a good bottom warming session and go over her knee without complaint.

The accompanying story below the Toon recalls the historic events that led to Lady Victoria’s surprising elevation to the most powerful inmate at the facility and is an extract from Volume 4 – The Inmates Strike Back …but before you proceed here is …

A disclaimer from my beloved wife and muse …

“Jojo does not rub! Any insinuations of rubbing have been included strictly for illustrative and artistic effect!”

Well, now that issue has been sorted … kick back and enjoy the toon and the story … Bottoms Up! … RH

 

 

Before the story, just the usual polite reminder that Woodettes Publications purchased these illustrations along with the copyright. I have no objection to other sites using them as long as they are accompanied by appropriate acknowledgment to the source.

Debs leaned against the mantelpiece in the study she shared with Rosemary Booker. Despite her best chums ministrations of her mystical balms Debs was still certain that smoke was billowing out from beneath her bumbags.

Nixdown and Jojo were seated in easy chairs and the four chums were discussing Debs’ dilemma.

The unexpected eviction from the chapel and the beating from the Wacky Whackster had suddenly changed Deborah’s fortunes on the Hall of Shame. She had now accumulated forty-nine punishments during the year.

“You’re fucking crazy if you try it,” counseled Rosemary. “The Beak will flail you alive. You have to keep your bumbags out of the firing line at all costs.”

“It’s a pretty dodgy proposition under the current circumstances,” agreed Nixdown. “It’s not like you’re flavor of the month.”

Even Jojo discouraged her. “I know how much you want to score a Bull, but there’s a time and a place for everything and this is definitely neither the time nor the place. There’s always next year.”

“Hmm,” mused Debs thoughtfully. “She’s already flunked me, what worse can she do? The fucking Whackster’s going to stitch me up any way. It would be better on my own terms.”

The inmates were filing into assembly hall taking their seats. The Famous Four lingered outside the hall waiting to make a late entry. When they were satisfied that the hall was pretty much full they made their entrance, Deborah in the lead. They walked up the aisle, passing the seated inmates, making their way to the Phase Five seating area. They passed by several prefects leaning against the wall, idly watching over the seated gals for signs of malfeasance. As they passed Janet Mitchell Deborah suddenly span around, grabbed a handful of Janet’s hair and yanked. Janet squawked in surprise and agony. Deborah calmly released her grip on Janet’s hair, leaned forward, took her by the nose and twisted, causing Janet to scream and stomp. As an after-thought Deborah hacked Mitch the Bitch in the shins.

The SS rushed to Janet’s aid; the Famous Four stood united. Jayne Underly took a tumble as she grabbed at Deborah only to find herself tripped by Nixdown. Yvonne Godfrey received a sharp jab in the ribs from Jojo. Finally the burly Jackie Ivanhoe elbowed her way through the mêlée and managed to get to Debs. She took a firm hold on the scruff of Deborah’s blazer and tried to twist her arm up behind her back. Deborah didn’t go quietly; she managed to crack her heel into Ivan’s shin.

“Ow, you bitch,” squealed Ivan.

Penelope Ann and the remaining prefects rushed in and separated the two factions. Ivan made another grab at Debs. Patsy Butcher stepped in between them. Ivan was a burly cove but she was no match for the Amazonian Rastafarian, she backed off.

For a moment the SS and the members of the Famous Four stood glaring at each other in a Mexican standoff.

Janet Mitchell was blubbing and cussing. “Do something,” she demanded.

“Let’s all calm down,” said Penny Ann. She pointed at Jojo, Nix and Rosemary. “Go and take your seats.” She turned to Debs. “You’d better come with me.”

Deborah shrugged. As she passed by Ivan she tip-toed up and whispered, “Go fuck yourself.”

Ivan raised her hand and made to slap Deborah’s face. Patsy Butcher caught her arm and twisted it sharply.

“Owwwwwwwwww!” squealed Ivan the Terrible. Deborah winked at the SS enforcer.

The doors to the hall swung open and the Dames began to file in. Deborah stood in a casual slouch, with her arms folded across her chest. Ms Hodge snapped at her to stand up straight. Deborah shrugged and slowly put her hands by her sides and straightened up a little. She winked at Patty.

When the Grand Dame arrived Penelope Ann stepped over and spoke with her in a hushed voice. The Grand Dame approached Deborah and instructed her to go and get herself inspected and then to take up the nose and toes position outside her study.

Ms Lawton drummed her fingers on the desk. The Grand Dame wasn’t naïve; she was well aware that Deborah’s latest drama was manufactured. She felt like an actress in a play.

“You’ll be flogged during evening Callover,” she said evenly. “Report here at five o’clock and we will proceed with the preparations.”

“Yes Ma’am, thank you Ma’am,” said Deborah cheerfully and skipped out of the room.

Deborah Morton was reveling in her celebrity. It was lunchtime break and several members of the Dirty Dozen had convened in Rosie and Debs’ study, hanging out and swapping whopping yarns.

Joanna Heyworth went over and hugged Debs. “Fucking amazing,” Jojo whispered in her chum’s ear. “Never thought I’d see the day that you’d get the Bitch back. Awwwww maaaaaan did you see her face galfriend?”

Deborah giggled. “It’s gonna be worth every whop sister!!!!!”

Suddenly Cassie Cassy burst breathlessly into the room.

“Cat says the SS are on their way,” she warned Debs, “they’re threatening to take you to the stables and thrash you. They’re armed to the gills.”

Lady Vix sat on the desk in Rosie and Debs’ study, her legs swinging nonchalantly. She looked at the prefects calmly.

The four members of the SS were brandishing ashplants. “This has nothing to do with you Brompton,” Yvonne Godfrey snarled, “We just want Morton. She can come quietly or we’ll frog-march her. Her arse is grass!!!!”

Around the room the mega-minxes lolled against the walls. Jojo, Nix and Rosie surrounded Deborah.

Ivan the Terrible stepped forward and thrust her face at Lady Vix, “You wanna make an issue I’m ready this time!!!!!!”

Unperturbed Lady Vix slid off the desk, “Yeah, rock on Ivan!” she smiled.

Ivan raised her hand for the second time in the day.

Lady Victoria Brompton looked at Ivan the Terrible very, very calmly.

Earlier in the year Janet Mitchell had gotten into a bunch of verbals with Vix’s best chum Rachel Cox. Mitch the Bitch had summonsed Ivan to collar Raitch and take her up to the library for a licking. Lady Vix had stepped between her chum and the enforcer and impolitely asked her to, “Fawk awwwff!”

Foolishly Ivan had elected to attempt to push past Victoria. The famously pugnacious aristocrat had been brought up with four brothers who had taught her to box and wrestle on the grounds of Brompton Castle. She promptly put up her dukes and biffed Ivan with a left-right combination that dumped the bully on her over-sized arse boo-hooing over a bloody snooter and a swollen eye.

Ivan had always claimed she had been ambushed and had sworn revenge on Lady Vix. Nonetheless she looked wary as Victoria stood before her.

From behind the prefects came the sound of a throat clearing. The SS members turned and were confronted by the sight of Bernadette Summers leaning in the doorpost with her arms folded across her chest and a grin on her face.

“Have we got a problem Vix?” the Bounder asked casually.

Without taking her eyes off Jackie Ivanhoe’s face Lady Vix shook her head. “I don’t think so Bounder, but maybe we should ask Miss Bitchypoo.”

Janet Mitchell was a coward and a sneak. Even with the protection of her enforcer Ivan the Terrible the prospect of getting into a rumble with Lady Vix and Bernadette Summers filled her with horror.

“Step aside Brompton,” she snarled, brandishing her ashplant. “Go and collar Morton,” she instructed Ivan, “I’m going to take the skin off her arse.”

Ivan began to approach Deborah but Rosie, Nix and Jojo stepped forward, their fists bunched. The enforcer looked at her cohorts uncertainly. Clearly collaring Deborah was not going to be an easy mission.

Janet was caught unawares; the Bounder suddenly pounced forward and grabbed the ashplant from her hand. Contemptuously she snapped the thin, whippy stick in two. As Janet span around in surprise Lady Vix grabbed her by the wrist. Before she knew what was happening Janet Mitchell was sprawled face down across Lady Victoria’s lap having her bottom smacked.

“Let me go!!!!!!!!” the prefect howled as she struggled to escape. Lady Vix had no intention of letting Mitch the Bitch escape, instead she flipped up the prefect’s skirt and let loose with a rip-roaring spanking.

The other members of the SS watched in stunned silence as Lady Victoria continued to smack up and down Janet’s arse.

“Help me,” Janet wailed, “Pleeeeeease somebody help me!!!!!!!!!”

“Oh hush you stupid bitch,” snarled Lady Vix and went right on spanking. Janet Mitchell kicked and squirmed and burst into floods of tears.

Janet was kicking and squirming and doing her best to escape from Vicky’s grasp but the aristocrat was clearly enjoying herself. She slapped Janet up one cheek from top to bottom and then moved across to the next.

Yvonne, Ivan and Undies watched in silence, mesmerized and unwilling to intervene on their cohorts behalf.

“Vix,” the Bounder warned from her position by the door, “Red-shirt approaching!”

Vix shrugged and promptly dumped the weeping Janet from her lap.

Penelope Ann hurried into the room and then came to an abrupt halt. She was accompanied by Cathryn Cassidy, Melons and the Butcher Twins.

“What the dickens?” Penny Ann said staring at Janet sprawled on the floor.

Janet was weeping uncontrollably, “She spanked me,” she spluttered incoherently, “that fucking bitch spanked me!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Penelope Ann turned to Yvonne Godfrey, “You couldn’t let it be could you?” she said accusingly.

The study remained silent except for the sobs of the well-spanked member of the Elite.

“It’s nothing Evans,” Yvonne snarled, “just some end of term horseplay that got a bit carried away.” Yvonne crossed to Janet and helped her to her feet.

“Come on Bitchy,” she said cheerily, “No harm done, why don’t we cut along.”

Penelope Ann looked around the room but met only with stony faces and set lips.

For a moment Janet stopped and looked bewildered, not understanding why Penelope Ann wasn’t doing something. Yvonne hurried her towards the door, followed quickly by their two cohorts. The last thing Yvonne wanted was to be interrogated about the SS’s illicit intentions for Deborah’s sitmedown. Cathryn Cassidy blocked her way.

“Not so fast,” drawled Cat.

“Step aside, Cassidy,” snapped Yvonne. “This is none of your business.”

“Sorry Godders, I’m making it my business,” grinned Cathryn. “And I’m hauling you bitches up before the Beak. Ain’t that the truth Penny Ann?”

“That’s the truth Cathryn,” said the Red-shirt.

“Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!!!” growled Yvonne.

Janet Mitchell burst into a renewed fit of tears.

“This is ridiculous,” Yvonne Godfrey snapped. The Commandant of the SS began to gather herself, looking stroppy and affronted.

“You can’t stand us down. We were just doing our duty and obeying orders!” she told the Grand Dame hotly.

“I give the orders around here little Miss SS!” snapped the Beak. “Now remove your ties and hand over your badges and blazers.”

Yvonne Godfrey blanched. She looked over to where Ms Hodge was sitting primly in an easy chair.

“Ms Hodge,” she said imploringly. “Help us out. Tell her that we were just doing what you told us to do.”

Ms Hodge averted her eyes. “I have no idea what you are talking about Godfrey and if you make any more rash insinuations I will request the Grand Dame to flog you.”

Yvonne Godfrey gaped. She turned towards her fellow members of the SS looking for support.

“Tell them,” she commanded them. She flashed her haughtiest glare at her normally sycophantic cohorts, but they took one look at Ms Lawton and quickly decided to err on the safe side of their bumbags.

Any gab about flogging was enough for the lily-livered Serial Spankers. They unknotted their ties and unpinned their badges. They stared at the floor and ignored Yvonne.

Ms Lawton sighed. Perhaps it was too little too late. Standing down the SS was the least she could do but it was also the most. For ten years she had weathered criticism of the nation’s most austere and controversial Back to School unit but had been able to demonstrate the success of the Social Rehabilitation program. Almost all her wards had gone on to further education programs or successful careers. The sacking of Spanker Spage had been necessary and had gone largely unnoticed. However, the sacking of another four inmates in the final phase of their programs was bound to attract untoward attention.

The Grand Dame acknowledged that her decision to implement Operation Scorched Arse had back-fired and resulted in anarchy and chaos. She had allowed Patty to operate her heinous corps of Serial Spankers right under her nose. It was her own responsibility to try to set things straight and establish a legacy.

“Collar them and take them to the landing and lock them in their studies,” the Grand Dame instructed Penny Ann and her chum’s. “If they offer any resistance you have my full authority to dangle them.”

Janet Mitchell burst into tears.

“I suppose that you want to go through with this?” asked Ms Lawton.

Deborah nodded firmly. “Yes Ma’am.”

Ms Lawton stood up and shrugged off her tailored jacket. “Okay,” she said as she walked around the desk, “but I want you to know this is nothing personal.”

“Understood Ma’am,” said Deborah as the Grand Dame took her by the wrist and led her towards a straight-backed armless chair. Ms Lawton sat down and then gently maneuvered Deborah forward until she was over and up.

“What are those?” demanded Ms Lawton.

“Testers,” said Katie.

Ms Lawton grabbed the white pair of gym shorts out of Katie’s hand. “An imbecile can see that these won’t fit her,” the Grand Dame snapped. “Now fetch a proper pair before I put you over my knee.”

Katie gaped at the Grand Dame. It was unprecedented for Ms Lawton to interfere in the preparations for a public flogging.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am,” she said hurriedly. “I’ll let Morton select a pair she likes.”

“Good idea,” said Susan Lawton.

Ms Lawton watched Katie intently as she adjusted the height of the vaulting horse to accommodate Deborah’s physical proportions.

“Very good,” she told the unit’s matron.

Katie Beck breathed a sigh of relief. She was not enjoying Ms Lawton’s interference in the proceedings. Ever since the Grand Dame had taken over the role of her ward following the death of her birth parents in a tragic car crash she had demonstrated a most untoward predilection for turning Katie over her knee.

Debs mounted the stage dressed in her black and red striped blazer with matching tie, a white blouse with red piping around the collar and a pair of starched white whopping bags. She had brushed her hair back behind a red hair band and wiped her face clean of the minimum amount of make-up the inmates were allowed. She looked calm and collected.

Penelope Ann stepped forward and read roll-call. Debs winked at her when her name was called. Once registration was called the Red-shirt helped Deborah off with her blazer and then went and retrieved the long cane and handed it to Ms Lawton.

“Bend over the horse, Morton,” the Grand Dame instructed Debs, not unkindly.

Ms Lawton took a tight grip on the cane and a deep breath. With less than twenty-four hours left before the facility closed for summer furlough she was aware that this would be her last formal disciplinary function as principal of the facility. She raised her arm in the air and swung the thirty-six inch long, whippy stick through the air.

Debs mouth contorted into a silent howl. The cane slashed across her tautened bumbags with absolute precision. It sliced across the crown of her upturned orbs with the accuracy of a heat seeking missile. She gripped the legs of the horse as the pain swept through her.

Deborah’s chums watched with expert eyes. The Grand Dame was delivering the flogging with her well-respected artistry, every stroke landing perfectly within the safe, sweet zone. Towards the back of the hall Jojo, Rosemary and Nixdown were holding hands, whispering chants and mantras on their chum’s behalf.

Deborah hung upside down panting while the Grand Dame took a brief half-time intermission. The first six strokes had been challenging. The lengthy over the knee spanking session had helped warm her up and get into the zone but nonetheless the long slender cane was getting her full attention. Each swipe was being delivered with clinical timing and accuracy and her backside was already sizzling as though she had inadvertently sat down on a griddle.

Ms Lawton tapped the cane down and raised her arm in the air. The stick whistled and landed with a resounding thwack.

Deborah Morton blinked. She squeezed her eyes tight in anticipation of the familiar wave of pain ricocheting through her body. She waited for her teeth to chatter and her toes to curl up in agitation.

Nothing!!!!!!!! Deborah gaped down at the wooden floor. She knew that the cane had slashed her because she had heard its shrill whistle as it cut through the air and the sound of the cane bouncing off her drum tight whopping bags had echoed in her ears. The familiar searing pain she was anticipating was absent. She felt nothing. Her bottom no longer ached and throbbed. A further lash sliced down. Nothing. Deborah wondered whether she was having an epiphany. The metaphorical book seemed to have been surreptitiously slipped inside her whopping bags.

Deborah resisted the urge to giggle. She knew that the Grand Dame was putting her arm into it, yet she felt nothing. Nadir, zilch, zero. Not even a tiny pang of pain.

Deborah pinched herself hard. “Yikes,” she thought, “that was dumb, that damn well hurt!”

Ms Lawton continued to beat Deborah methodically, landing each stroke in tight formation. The Grand Dame was used to the stoic performances of the mega-minxes but even she was mildly surprised by Deborah’s total lack of reaction to the final six swipes.

Deborah sprung adroitly to her feet. The inmates stared at her in amazement. Their chum and heroine had a look of half amusement on her face. Her gait was light and springy, not a sign of the stiffness that should accompany an arse as sore as Deborah’s must be. She calmly accepted her blazer and after shrugging it on and fastening the top button she stood before the inmates looking simply ethereal.

Ms Lawton handed Penny Ann the cane. She rolled down the sleeves of her silk blouse and fastened the cuffs. She accepted her jacket and shrugged it on, flicking back her hair and spreading the blouse collar out over her lapels.

She looked over at Deborah inquisitively. Debs was standing neatly to attention, her head slightly cocked. She was grinning.

Ms Lawton resisted the temptation to scratch her head.

“Have Cassidy bring Godfrey and her gang on stage,” she instructed Penny Ann.

The inmates watched in incredulity as Cathryn, Melons and the Butcher twins escorted Yvonne and her cronies onto the stage. The members of the SS were all dressed in the full clobber of bib-fronted gymslips that was requisite attire for the inmates in the early phases of their sentences. They did not look in the least bit comfortable.

The inmates listened with a sense of glee as Ms Lawton clinically berated the four gals. Yvonne tried to interject blaming Patty Hodge and Katie for their activities. Susan Lawton ripped her face off.

Janet, Ivan and Undies stood quivering under the verbal assault with their heads hung low.

Deborah watched the proceedings with considerable amusement. Every now and again she concentrated her complete attention on her backside. During the past hour she had endured a well delivered bare bottom spanking and twelve strokes of the senior cane. Under any circumstances it would be enough to make a gal’s bum squirm and twitch uncontrollably but she felt nothing. Her bum felt as cool and smooth as if it had just come out of the womb.

Deborah Morton felt like she had entered a Brave New World.

Ms Lawton scowled over her glasses at Yvonne and Janet. “You can think yourselves lucky that you are not joining Miss Spage in chokey,” she told them, “but let me assure you that I haven’t finished with you yet.”

“Brompton!!!!!!!!!! Please step up!” the Grand Dame barked.

Every head turned to face Lady Vix.

“What the dickens,” muttered Jojo darkly.

“She can’t,” grumbled Nix.

Lady Vix stood on the stage with her infamous pugnacious glower on her face.

“I believe you took matters into your own hands today Victoria,” the Grand Dame was saying.

“Yeah and what of it?” she said rudely, “She deserved it.”

An amused grin flickered across the Beaks lips.

“Yes I’m sure she did,” she said. “She’s a complete bitch and a total muff.”

The inmates gawked. Lady Vix narrowed her eyes.

Lady Victoria Brompton glared at the Beak confrontationally. “So,” she said in her husky voice, “you gonna beat me? See if I care.”

The Grand Dame looked taken aback. “No Victoria,” she said in a surprised tone, “I have no intention of beating you.”

For a second Lady Vix looked nonplussed, “Oh,” she said, and then she astonished the Woody gals by cracking a smile.

“In my opinion your earlier conduct was both honorable and justified Victoria,” the Grand Dame said gently. “Although I do not wholly approve of your penchant for scrapping, I appreciate that you are generally protecting weaker, more vulnerable inmates, and that is admirable.”

Lady Vix was looking confused and suspicious.

“I am aware that you are a rascal of the very first order,” the Beak continued, “and we have had our fair share of often painful contretemps over the years.”

Lady Vix scowled.

“Notwithstanding our past Lady Victoria,” the Grand Dame said kindly, “It my great pleasure to bestow upon you the position of Red-shirt for the upcoming year.”

“Good fucking grief,” said Lady Vix, “you’re fucking joking?”

A pin could have been heard dropping in the hall. But the Beak merely smiled benevolently. “And I trust that you will curb that potty mouth of yours in the future.”

“Yes Ma’am, sorry Ma’am,” said Lady Vix in a tone of genuine contrition, “that was kind of disgusting.”

“Well never mind that. This evening the Brass and the remainder of the Elite will be off the premises,” the Beak said conspiratorially, “may I suggest that you take possession of Penelope Ann’s hairbrush and see if you can find a good use for it.”

“Wahoo!!!!!!!!!!!” Cassie Cassy leapt in the air clapping her hands in glee. Soon there was pandemonium in the hall. The Woody gals were hugging each other, whooping and squealing with excitement.

Ms Lawton looked over of the hall filled with celebrating inmates with a slight smile of indulgence on her face. Ms Hodge was looking incredulous. The standing down of the SS had been a serious blow to her power-base, but the unexpected selection of Lady Victoria Brompton to be elevated to the giddy height of Red-shirt had come as a smack on the arse.

Patty looked askance at Ms Lawton, but the Grand Dame merely grinned and winked at her. The deputy principal put her face in her hands and gnashed her teeth in exasperation.

The scene in the hall was celebratory. For some inexplicable reason Deborah seemed to have survived her public flogging unscathed and was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

The vicious SS were standing dressed in full clobber looking bewildered and distraught.

Best of all, Lady Victoria, one of the most loved and admired gals at the facility was going to act as Red-shirt. The inmates of the Back to School unit whooped and clapped and stamped their feet.

If you have been enjoying the Toon Collection and the book-extracts and you have finished reading the complimentary Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber and want to know more about the antics of the World’s greatest mega-mixes then cut along sharpish to the newly redesigned Woodettes Publication Page which gives direct access to the five volumes from the Woody Back to School Unit saga that are available for download for the very reasonable sum of $4.99 each. I have included a brief synopsis of the content of each book and of course I have kept the Free Preview Chapters available for your enjoyment.

Join the Spanking Universe

Here’s another little appetizer from the upcoming weekend’s brand new and original Woody Toons.

I’m in a work-crunch so I only have time for a drive-by … but hey … if you are a blogger sign up for the brand new Spanking Universe. It’s hosted by the highly-respected and widely-known Mr Richard Windsor over at his long-running blog The House of Richard Windsor … if you’re interested in spreading the word … this will help … take it from RH.

Just one thing … if you sign up (it’s free and a community project) … please at least have the courtesy to add reciprocal links to both the Universe and Richard’s blogs … end of sermon … watch out for the new Woody Toon’s coming this weekend … Bottoms Up! … RH

Jojo and Nixdown are Waiting Outside the Library

This special sneak preview panel finds Jojo and Nixdown waiting outside the infamous library which also serves as the Punishment Room at the Woody Back to School Unit. The full new and exclusive Toon will be available at around the turn of midnight on Friday morning (US CST) so set your watches.

The Woody Toon’s collection is proving very popular and has taken on an awesome momentum. The Toon’s are now being featured on many popular sites and my thanks to all the owners who have had the courtesy to give the appropriate acknowledgement, which is all we ask.

My special thanks to BrushStrokes over at The Spanking Spot for his generous shout-out. BrushStrokes runs an enormous site which is a veritable spanko and spankettes Pandora’s Box. A wide range of features include site and video reviews, read-worthy exclusive interviews with many prominent members of the spanking community, and BrushStrokes own opinions of numerous, probably hitherto unsuspecting, women that he deems might merit a damn good spanking. Well worth a rummage in my opinion.

Speaking of rummaging I am unfortunately up against a work deadline and have to rush off, but have a good poke about the site and hopefully you’ll find something to make you smile or even squirm a little and remember …  Jojo and Nix are waiting outside the library so check back and find out their fates … thanks for stopping by … Enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH

Yowza!!! – 100,000 Visitors to the Woody Back to School Unit

It was another exciting week at the Woody Back to School Unit what with Love our Lurkers day, another guest post from My Beloved Jojo and two more original Woody Toons were posted over the weekend. And then to top off the week, yesterday afternoon, my stat-meter climbed inexorably passed the 100,000 guest mark and I had to change the counter to six digits. So our hearty thanks to all the visitors from innumerable locations all-over the globe who stop-by and have a good rummage around the site.

I decided to remove the Woody Collection from Flickr as I didn’t think it was really an appropriate forum. I have added a PowerPoint slideshow of the complete collection of Toons in the side-bar … it’s a bit slow and cumbersome (wow … four mouse clicks … too hard!!!) but there’s not much that I can do about that … I will keep it updated as we continue to expand the project.

Once again I would like to offer my appreciation to all the kind bloggers in the community that have generously included me in their blog-lists including but not limited to:

 

• The Delightful and Very Generous Bonny over at My Bottom Smarts

• The Original Spankologist Chross at Spanking Resources

• Monsieur Laurent at Le journal de la fessée, who comes out of retirement more often than Eric Cantona

• London Lad Garth from Behind the Barred Window

• The Infamous Chief at his well-visited Spanking Blog

• Sam Johnson at SpankOz … good luck with the new venture

• The Inimitable Rascal Paolo in Dublin

• The Charming and Entertaining Lady Karen

• The Wonderful Todd and Suzy at About Spanking

• The One and Only MarQe in his Study

• Ian at the ambitious and entertaining YEOWCH! page

• The hard-working Mitch over at All Things Spanking

• The Gentlemanly James Stephenson

• Good Old Uncle Peter and his Spanking Stories

• The highly amusing and off-the-wall Dante in his Paridiso

• Tiggr at A Spanking Good Time (sorry to hear you’ve hung your paws up)

• Thomas for sharing his Spanking Exploits

• Paul at the long running Spanking Facts and Research

• La fessée conjugale, another great site from France celebrating the Le Vice Anglaise

• Freddie at Simply Slippering who was kind enough to call the Woody Back to School Unit blog Highly Recommended

• Cutiepie and her Sexy Spankings

• Everybody at the Spanking Bloggers Network

 

Also a special thanks to John at the highly respected

• Spanking Review for featuring the Woody Toons in his weekly industry news round-ups

 

And finally my appreciation to a few folks who stopped by on Love our Lurkers day and left kind words of support and encouragement:

• Hermione at the very amusing Hermione’s Heart

• Our man in Flanders, Prefectdt at Spanked Hortic

• LS at Lurvs Spanking

• Jay Walker at her new home

 

And of course no appreciation list would be complete without a HUGE SHOUT-OUT to my collaborator on the Woody Toons, the inimitable Scouser Dave Ell, who interprets my briefs so brilliantly and breathes life into the characters. Dave is a British artist, currently resident in Thailand, and he is available for commissions at lodgy53@yahoo.co.uk. His prices are very reasonable and he is a great guy to work with. His work is all over the net and can be found on many of the quality art sites, and he also has his own web-site at:

• Dave Ell’s Cartoons

 

My thanks to all of you and my sincere apologies for those that I might have missed.

It’s Sunday … so take a load off, kick-back, have a mimosa and enjoy your rummaging … Bottoms Up! … RH

If you have been enjoying the Toon Collection and the book-extracts and you have finished reading the complimentary Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber and want to know more about the antics of the World’s greatest mega-mixes then cut along sharpish to the newly redesigned Woodettes Publication Page which gives direct access to the five volumes from the Woody Back to School Unit saga that are available for download for the very reasonable sum of $4.99 each. I have included a brief synopsis of the content of each book and of course I have kept the Free Preview Chapters available for your enjoyment.

Blazing Hot Original Woody Toon – A Formal House Beating

My  appreciation and congratulations to Dave Ell for producing yet another true classic spanking Toon. I have attached the complete story below so you can see what a brilliant job Dave did of interpreting quite a complex episode in just four very graphic panels.

Dave Ell is a British artist resident in Thailand and is available for private commissions at lodgy53@yahoo.co.uk. He is very reasonably priced and if you send him a briefing he will turn out a Toon in double quick time.

So here’s the Toon (click on the image twice, and then twice again for full-size) and the full story, an extract, from ‘Volume 2 – Operation Scorched Arse’,  which is available for purchase at the Woodettes Publications page, is featured below … it’s the weekend, kick-back, pour a glass of wine and enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH

 

 

Before the story, just the usual polite reminder that Woodettes Publications purchased these illustrations along with the copyright. I have no objection to other sites using them as long as they are accompanied by appropriate acknowledgment to the source.

The inmates were collecting their books ready for the start of the day’s educational curriculum when the intercom crackled.

“Morton, Phase 5, repair immediately to the library to respond to charges of bringing the Red House into disrepute,” barked the unmistakable voice of Katie Beck, the unit’s Matron.

The inmates exchanged curious glances.

“What the dickens?” gasped Deborah.

“This does not sound good,” was Jojo’s learned opinion.

Deborah gaped at the six prefects incredulously. “You have to be kidding me,” she spluttered.

Patsy Butcher looked uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, Morton,” she said. “The application has been filed under new protocols. The council has to consider it.”

Patty Hodge, Katie Beck and the Wart were in their usual position propping up the bar in the Bunch of Grapes.

Patty Hodge and her cronies were discussing the ‘Eyes Only’ memorandum that Ms Lawton, the units Principal, had issued to the Brass and the Elite at the emergency summit to announce the new zero-tolerance campaign, code-named Operation Scorched Arse.

The content of the memorandum had assigned Deborah Morton the rank of the facility’s new Public Enemy Number One and instructed the recipients to target her with ‘Extreme Prejudice and the Utmost Hostility’.

“Oh man, we can sure have fun with this,” cackled the Wart.

Katie grinned. “I’ve had this idea floating around for a while,” she said conspiratorially. “This may be the perfect time to put it into action.”

“Come on, Katie; spill the beans,” grinned Patty, “what has that evil, bitchy mind of yours come up with this time?”

Patsy continued to look uncomfortable. “We’ve received official notification that you have been declared Public Enemy Number One,” she told Debs. “Some members of the House Council believe that under the new provisions of the House Charter that makes you guilty of bringing the Red House into disrepute.”

Debs glared at the prefects. “What provisions?” she demanded.

“They are being ratified by the Mistress of the House as we speak,” said Janet Mitchell smugly.

Cathryn Cassidy looked daggers at Mitch the Bitch. “They are not ratified yet you stupid bitch,” she snarled.

“Oh but they will be,” interjected Yvonne Godfrey, “you mark my words.”

Deborah knew when she was being stitched up like a kipper. The prefectorial council presiding over the Red House was comprised of two of her chums, Patsy and Cat, and her four sworn enemies, Yvonne, Bitchypoo, Spanker Spage and Ivan the Terrible. Ms Wharton, the most despised member of the unit’s Brass served as Mistress of the Red House and would ratify anything that could make life disagreeable for the inmates.

At first Patsy and Cathryn refused to hear the application and argued furiously with Yvonne and her cronies. At one point Patsy had to restrain Cat who looked ready to scratch Janet’s eyes out. Finally a grubby arrived in the library and handed Patsy a document. Patsy read it quickly and then handed it to Cathryn.

“This is so bogus,” Cat growled.

“I’m sorry Debs,” groaned Patsy, “but we’re going to have to take a vote.”

Deborah’s arms and neck ached from facing the wall with her hands on her head and her nose pressed forward against the wood-paneling.

The council had voted and predictably she was found guilty by four votes to two.

“Ms Wharton is currently indisposed and cannot be disturbed,” cackled Janet Mitchell, “we’ll place you in House Custody until she is available.”

“You cannot be serious,” spluttered Debs.

“I am absolutely serious,” the Wart assured her. “The protocols now require that you are subjected to a Full Collar Walkthrough and a Formal House Beating.”

Deborah gaped at the Wart.

“I’ll try to make this as easy as possible,” whispered Cat. “Try not to struggle and keep in step.”

Deborah nodded miserably.

“Button down the landings,” barked Katie Beck. “Mandatory six of the best for anybody caught goofing, gabbing, larking or pranking. Commence the escort.”

Deborah Morton’s cheeks turned a deep crimson as she entered the Elite landing. The six members of the Blue House were positioned outside the doors to their studies. The six members of the Red House were already congregated in the gymnasium ready to witness Deborah receiving the first ever Formal House Beating.

Cathryn had Deborah’s right arm pulled up behind her back. The fingers of her left hand were inserted inside the collar of Deb’s blouse. As gently as possible, Cat propelled Deborah along each of the seven landings. It was a laborious expedition.

The landings were housed on four floors of the main building, the Elite had the whole top storey and the studies and dormitories of the lower phase inmates were spread out over the floors below.

Cat and Debs walked slowly so that Debs could keep pace. When they reached the stairwells between floors Cat released her grip on Debs so that she would be less likely to trip on the stairs.

Deborah’s cheeks burned with humiliation. She couldn’t recall feeling so mortified since she was publicly hand-cuffed on the center court of Wimbledon and carted off by the Dark Agents of the System.

The members of the Red House had formed a circle of bodies in the gymnasium. Deborah Morton and Patsy Butcher stood in the center. Debs was required to stand with her hands on her head while Patsy delivered the Official House Scolding.

It had been a tiresome and frustrating morning for Deborah. After learning of her fate she had been returned to the library and forced to resume her pose of nose and toes while the scolding was drafted.

Patsy had tried valiantly to make the scolding as brief and innocuous as possible. However, her preliminary drafts were rejected by the Wart who insisted that she beef the wording up in keeping with Ms Lawton’s ‘Guidelines for Extreme Scolding’. For the duration Debs was forced to remain facing the wall with Yvonne Godfrey monitoring her intensely to ensure that her nose was permanently touching the panels and that at no time did her elbows inadvertently make contact with the wall.

The Official Public Scolding ran for almost five long minutes. All the while Debs was required to remain hands on head, eyes front and not move a muscle. Artfully Yvonne and Janet had positioned themselves directly in her line of vision and throughout the ignominious reprimand Deborah was constantly confronted by the prefects’ coprophagic smirks.

Finally Deborah was allowed to lower her arms. Even though she had tried to block out much of the scripted scolding her face was still flushed with righteous indignation. The text that the Wart and Ms Lawton had finally approved had painted an appalling picture of degeneracy and depravity and completely ignored the significant contributions she had made to the Red House in terms of her scholastic, sporting and musical achievements. During her sentence at the unit Deborah had earned more merit marks for her House than any inmate in history. Nonetheless she knew that any attempt to defend herself would be pointless and besides she had rather more pressing matters on her mind.

Patsy Butcher took a deep breath. She was flexing the ceremonial house cane between her hands. Momentarily she handed the cane to Cathryn while she shrugged off her blazer. In blouse and skirt her superb athletic physique was even more apparent. The House Captain reached up and unfastened the collar of her blouse and then rolled up her sleeves before retrieving the cane. For an instant she caught Deborah’s eye and they exchanged a glance of mutual resignation.

“Morton, you have been found guilty of bringing the Red House into disrepute and will receive a twelve-stroke running bender as punishment,” Patsy said softly “Now please repair to the beam and prepare yourself to be beaten.”

There was a hush in the gymnasium as the inmates separated to make way for Debs as she turned to walk towards the training beam that had been lowered from the ceiling track. With the exception of Yvonne, Janet and their sycophantic cronies the inmates lowered their heads in sympathy to Deborah’s terrible plight.

Deborah did her best to keep her head up high but she averted her eyes and her naturally athletic gait seemed slightly inelegant as she trudged down the gymnasium. She reached the beam and slowly unfastened the top button of her red and black striped blazer. She shrugged the jacket off and folded it neatly across the beam. Deborah stretched out her arms and placed her hands on the beam. Very slowly she leaned forward.

Running Benders were nothing new. They had been invented by an athletic prefect named Gemima Appleby who wished to teach Claire Brooks a lesson for rubbishing her.

When Ms Lawton got wind of the novel technique she had been intrigued and had set up a test range in the gymnasium for Big Gem to give her a demonstration. The Grand Dame had been immediately impressed by Gemima’s display of athleticism and dexterous control of the cane. However, she had some reservations and selected several prefects to participate in the running bender trials. As she suspected the technique was difficult to coordinate and even after several practice sessions few of the prefects could guarantee a clean caning.

Although Ms Lawton was of the opinion that gals were broad of beam and perfectly designed for being caned on the bottom she knew that the cane needed to land crisply on the crown of the rump. She had learned from her own experiences at school that a badly delivered caning could cause unnecessary discomfort.

Following the trials she issued a dictate that only prefects who could consistently prove themselves on the test range would be certified to deliver running benders.

Noticeably it was mostly the more athletic inmates who managed to perfect the tricky technique and Patsy Butcher was a world class athlete.

Deborah Morton and Patsy Butcher were close chums. Patsy often spotted Debs while she worked on her quick sprints. Nonetheless as Deborah approached the beam at the end of the hall she was in no doubt that the next few minutes would prove to be extremely unpleasant.

Despite their friendship, several days earlier, Patsy had been required to cane Deborah in another matter with regard to Red House Business. The caning had been a conventional close-in six of the best administered with the same ceremonial house cane. Deborah who had been caned by dozens of prefects during her career was of the opinion that Patsy ranked amongst the most proficient ever. The prospect of a twelve-stroke running bender from the athletic Rastafarian made Debs extremely nervous.

Ms Lawton had been impressed during the running bender trials. The Butcher twins were the first prefects ever to get full certification at their first attempt, each shooting perfect sixes on each of their three qualifying attempts.

Deborah Morton approached the beam unenthusiastically. Nobody had ever accused Debs of being faint of heart but the idea of preparing herself for a beating was extremely unappealing. She placed her hands along the wooden rail and halfheartedly leaned forward.

Patsy Butcher looked down the hall. Deborah was not yet in any position for receiving a running bender but she allowed her to remain leaning against the beam while she sent the remaining Red House gals to form a line along the back wall so that they were facing Deborah.

Yvonne and Janet bustled their way into poll position directly in front of Debs. They had the same shit-eating smirks on their faces that they had worn during the scolding. Deborah did her best to stare them down defiantly but their undisguised glee made her feel sick and humiliated.

She felt Patsy’s hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry Debs,” the House Captain whispered, “But I’m going to need you to bend over as far as you can. I need you up as high as possible so that I can get a clean shot at you.”

Deborah shot a bleak look at Patsy and then released her grip on the beam and reached her arms, head and upper torso down towards the floor.

Deborah’s heart was pounding. For the third time since she had returned from furlough she was faced with the prospect of receiving twelve strokes. Debs was of the opinion that six was the perfect number for a caning. She accepted that three or even four strokes were probably not enough to punish a mega-minx of her experience. Six, on the other hand, she considered perfectly adequate. Just enough to keep steam coming out from under her bumbags for several hours, but not enough to distract her from going about her regular business. During her last extended beating Ms Lawton had broken the senior cane when delivering the tenth stroke and had been forced to complete the flogging with a prefect’s ashplant. To compensate for using the lighter cane the Grand Dame had given Debs an additional two strokes. It had been the longest caning Deborah had ever received and she had been astonished by the exponential increase in the effect of each stroke the longer the punishment went on. She had no doubt that a twelve-stroke running bender from the athletic Patsy was going to be very tough duty indeed.

The remaining Red House gals watched in wide-eyed awe as Patsy sprinted down the long gymnasium.

There were only half a dozen gals in the hall who had ever been the recipients of running benders. Most of the gals, especially inmates in the early part of their sentences, had believed they were an urban legend spread about by the more experienced gals to spook them. But as the cane slashed across Deborah Morton’s tautened bumbags the myth became an instant reality.

The voice over the public address system was unmistakable.

“One,” announced Ms Lawton.

The gals in the gymnasium exchanged glances. They had always thought that the Grand Dame had eyes and ears everywhere but were baffled how she could be observing the proceedings in the gymnasium when she was nowhere to be seen.

The gals on the landings looked startled. The crack of the cane exploding off Deborah Morton’s bumbags had echoed through the building like a rifle shot.

During the walkthrough they had noticed Jackie Ivanhoe following behind the Debs and Cat parade. As Deborah was hustled out of the corridor and into the stairwell at the end of each landing Ivan would stoop down and prop open the door. The intent had eluded them until they heard the unmistakable sound of rattan ricocheting off gossamer.

Katie Beck grinned gleefully. She was seated in her office with the door open and she heard the sound of the caning cracking off Deborah’s bumbags as clearly as if it was coming from next door in the Beak’s study. She loved it when a plan came together.

Deborah Morton’s head jerked back, her face contorted in agony. The past few days had not been kind to Deborah’s rear end. In the space of less than a week she had been caned three times and all of the punishments had been from the top end of the spectrum. Even a whop-hardened veteran like Deborah was suffering from a touch of the residuals.

The cane had swiped across her slightly tender behind with the sting and venom of a rattle snake. When her eyes opened she was confronted by the gloating looks of Yvonne and Janet. She slumped back into a full hangover and panted in unexpurgated misery.

Patsy strode back down the gymnasium. She felt sorry for her victim but she had no choice other than to put her arm into the punishment. She had been horrified when the Grand Dame had told her that she wanted every stroke to be heard in all four corners of the building. Futilely she had objected and rewarded with a scathing lecture on Deborah’s shortcomings and the Grand Dame had made thinly veiled threats regarding her own backside if Patsy failed to comply.

Patsy swooped down, the ceremonial house cane slicing through the air in a perfect arc and cutting across the very crown of Deborah’s backside. By any standards it was a regal stroke and even Deb’s sympathetic friends and fans couldn’t help but be impressed by the sheer majesty of the manner in which the beating was being delivered.

The thwacks of the cane were music to Yvonne Godfrey and Janet Mitchell’s ears. Every time Debs head reared back with her face contorted in agony the wicked prefects were filled with glee.

The cruel prefects had been delighted when Patty and Katie had summonsed them and outlined their new and most dastardly plan. Over the years Deborah had shown them nothing but contempt and they relished the idea of aiding and abetting in her public humiliation.

The whole plan had gone off swimmingly. Deborah had arrived in the library clearly prepared for a scrap. However, her pugnacious attitude had quickly evaporated and been replaced by incredulity when Patsy had explained the situation. Debs scored 158 on the Cattell III B IQ test but for once she seemed to having considerable difficulty grasping the concepts being explained to her. Debs normal cocksure self-assurance seemed to elude her and a sheen of sweat had glistened on her brow as Patsy formally read out the charge.

Later, when the Wart explained the procedure for the Full Collar Walkthrough Deborah Morton had looked like she might burst into tears.

The cane exploded across Deborah’s defenseless derriere forcing her head to snap back, her face contorted and her mouth formed into a silent howl.

Yvonne and Janet leered at her.

It had been Katie’s idea to force the strokes to be heard all around the building.

“It’ll stop Butcher from pulling the strokes,” she advised the Wart, “and it’ll give a whole new meaning to a sound beating.”

“You are such a rotten bitch,” the Wart had complimented Katie.

A successful running bender requires precision timing and eye-cane coordination. Ideally the stroke will be delivered with the arm and cane in a perfect horizontal plane. Early or late execution of the stroke could result in miss-hits or fouls. Although Deborah was not in much of a position to be thankful while she was head down, arse up over the beam, she would be grateful later during the painful hours of recovery for Patsy’s proficiency.

The members of the Red House watched in awe as Patsy sprinted down the gym. She had tied her waist-length braided dreadlocks back into a pony tail that swung from side to side as she accelerated. She swooped in low and sliced another perfect stripe across Deborah’s behind.

“Six!” Ms Lawton announced over the loud speaker.

Patsy walked back up the library and looked at her watch.

Deborah Morton was not having a good time of it. Patsy’s careful accuracy meant that the first six strokes had all landed cleanly across the crown of her backside. There had been no wraparounds or high strikes which she was grateful for, but with a limited target area the House Captain was landing the strokes in close proximity to each other.

Deborah gritted her teeth. She knew that the next few minutes were going to be even more excruciating but she was determined not to howl or blub.

Patsy sighed and set off again down the center of the gym. The first time she had caned Deborah it had been a routine affair related to House Business. They had hugged afterwards and Deborah had complimented Patsy on her prowess and technique; telling her it was one of the better sixes she had ever received from a prefect. She hated having been forced to beat Deborah again but she was determined to deliver the thrashing with maximum force and minimum damage.

Patsy swooped in, the cane whistling through the air as she snapped her wrist with perfect timing. Debs left leg jerked backwards as the long stick slashed across the sweet spot.

“Seven,” said Ms Lawton over the intercom.

Deborah was beginning to feel decidedly whop-weary. Her backside was on fire and she was completely helpless to defend herself. The manner in which she was positioned over the training beam meant she would need assistance to return to the vertical standing position. Her backside was sitting up proud for no other reason than to be thrashed with a thirty-six inch rattan cane.

Patsy tightened her grip on the ceremonial house cane. It was longer and thicker than the ashplant that she normally worked with, and compared favorably to the senior cane that Ms Lawton brandished with such aplomb. At the far end of the gymnasium Deborah was bent into a vee over the beam, her body supported by the balls of her feet, her heels off the ground and her gossamer covered backside sitting up perfectly. Patsy Butcher tapped the tip of the cane on the floor of the gymnasium and set off running.

Cathryn Cassidy sidled up beside Janet Mitchell. Mitch the Bitch was openly relishing Deborah’s misfortune. Every time Debs head snapped back Janet’s face split into an enormous grin. Cat Cassidy stamped her heel down on the bridge of Janet’s foot. Mitch the Bitch squealed in anguish.

Deborah managed to suppress a squeal of anguish as the twelfth stroke sizzled across her backside. She felt Patsy leaning over her.

“Are you okay?” Patsy asked earnestly.

Debs grunted. “I’ll live,” she said through clenched teeth. “Just help me up.”

Rosemary had done her best to soothe her best chum’s frazzled rump but Debs still felt as if she was sitting on a lighted griddle.

The Bounder stopped by and slipped Debs several shots of vodka that helped a little but by the time bed-time came Deborah Morton was resigned to a long and painful night of lying face-down on her tummy.

With a double bare bender, a routine house beating, a public flogging and a Formal House Beating already under her bumbags it occurred to Debs that Ms Lawton was taking the business of declaring her Public Enemy Number One very seriously indeed.

Deborah Morton predicted she had some very hot and sweaty times ahead of her.

If you have been enjoying the Toon Collection and the book-extracts and you have finished reading the complimentary Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber and want to know more about the antics of the World’s greatest mega-mixes then cut along sharpish to the newly redesigned Woodettes Publication Page which gives direct access to the five volumes from the Woody Back to School Unit saga that are available for download for the very reasonable sum of $4.99 each. I have included a brief synopsis of the content of each book and of course I have kept the Free Preview Chapters available for your enjoyment.

A Brand New Woody Toon – Jojo and the Reform School Strap

Following in the wake of My Beloved Jojo’s highly acclaimed guest post on the real-life effects of the Reform School Strap we are proud to present the latest original Woody Toon.

Once again Dave Ell has miraculously managed to capture the story-line in just four panels of amazing graphics.

For anybody unfamiliar with the provenance of the Reform School Strap, according to the advertising literature that accompanied this Bad Boy, the original design dates back to the late nineteenth century. According to the literature a tough disciplinarian named Joshua Plunkett first introduced the Reform School Strap into a State Reformatory located in Mobile, Alabama. The reform school housed the life-hardened daughters of drunken docker’s and itinerant workers. Plunkett was convinced that the inmates of the reformatory were victims of their unfortunate circumstances and embarked upon an enlightened program to reform them. On Sundays the young women were taken from their cells and brought to the prison chapel. One by one they were manacled over a flogging horse and given thirteen strokes of the strap while the prison chaplain prayed for their souls and salvation. Apparently the legendary strap was soon introduced into reform schools stretching along the southern United States from Florida to Texas and has subsequently helped numerous young women in their pursuit of reform.

I have no idea of the veracity of these claims but they were in the advertizing so I feel obliged to report them at face value!

Understandably the refined guests of the Woody Back to School Unit are a little miffed at the introduction of the infamous strap into their daily lives … but sadly, sorry gals … I’ve got news for you … it’s here to stay!

Also, for anybody interested in minutiae the pink water pistols Jojo is toting in panel 1 of the toon are vintage hot-pink plastic Pisrool derringer’s available at specialist outlets on eBay … now without further ado .. Kick-back, enjoy the new Toon (if you click on it twice then click on it twice again you get the full image … don’t ask me why) … and then have a good rummage around the site … Bottoms Up! … RH

 

 

Just the usual polite reminder that Woodettes Publications purchased these illustrations along with the copyright. I have no objection to other sites using them as long as they are accompanied by appropriate acknowledgment to the source.

If you have been enjoying the Toon Collection and the book-extracts and you have finished reading the complimentary Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber and want to know more about the antics of the World’s greatest mega-mixes then cut along sharpish to the newly redesigned Woodettes Publication Page which gives direct access to the five volumes from the Woody Back to School Unit saga that are available for download for the very reasonable sum of $4.99 each. I have included a brief synopsis of the content of each book and of course I have kept the Free Preview Chapters available for your enjoyment.

Jojo and the Reform School Strap – A Personal Point of View

It is my great pleasure to host another guest spot from my wife, muse and inspiration … Heeeeere’s Jojo!!!!!

“The reform school strap is a wicked invention. It looks wicked. It sounds wicked. And of course, we all know that anything that looks and sounds so wicked is probably deceptively benign…you know, as in “the loud ones don’t hurt”.

Yeah right.

First of all, you have to see it to understand it. It is quite impressive as a piece of kit. It is about two feet long and six inches wide (just the “business” part of it, not including the handle). The leather strap is smooth leather on one side. It is unsplit leather…meaning it hasn’t been sliced thin and had the sueded rough leather removed from the back…so it is thick, substantial and hefty leather and yet still relatively pliable, not stiff like a paddle. When a gal sees this puppy selected out of the toy cabinet, it automatically sets the nervous level up to high. You see it and think, Oh my god, no way. Oh I will be good, I will never ever do it again, can’t we discuss this, oh man this is gonna be bad…

(Just to be clear, no self respecting minx would ever actually vocalize these things, but I can assure you that she will be thinking them!!)

So before one single little inch of thick unrelenting leather touches your backside, already you are a mass of jangly nervous energy. So much for Zen spanking.

Because of the size and heft of the Reform School Strap, it is utter nonsense to think that this is a “bend over and touch your toes” sort of experience. At least, not for me. I am just not that solid. Seriously, you would have to have the strength of an Amazon not to fall over when this baby does the first meet and greet on your bum. In fact, bending over the caning chair in RH’s office isn’t enough support. So luckily, this becomes the perfect time for sprawling over his desk. Did I mention this is one of my own personal favorite fantasies? Yeah, the ruler…oh my. ..

But I digress (I know, I do that a lot, but hey that is just the way I am)…Anyway, the Reform School Strap is definitely NOT a ruler. So when you are bent over the desk, and then you wait, trying not to tense up…impossible… and then BAMMMM! Simultaneously there is the loudest crack of thunder in your ears, your bum feels like the hand of a giant has smacked it, and the g-force of the whole thing practically pins you against the desk for a moment! It is breathtaking and it rings in your ears. If you are lucky the first one was delivered with your bumbags still up. But invariably, I feel RH’s hands rolling my bumbags to my ankles (oh panic!), and then I wait for what I know is going to be the biggest loudest and most stinging moments of my day.

I can assure you I am never wrong about that!

RH has a way of timing it so that it brings the utmost surprise, sometimes fast, sometimes slow. The result is that it is hard to get into the zone and oh my you just want to squeal and kick your feet.

Which of course I would never do. Self-respecting minx code and all that.

Ok, enough for now. I feel the need to rub just talking about it. Next time, the dastardly Peruvian spoon.”

My Thanks to Jojo and check back on Friday and see what the talented Mr Dave Ell makes of the reform school strap in our latest original Woody Toon 9 … until then Bottoms Up! … RH

If you have been enjoying the Toon Collection and the book-extracts and you have finished reading the complimentary Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber and want to know more about the antics of the World’s greatest mega-mixes then cut along sharpish to the newly redesigned Woodettes Publication Page which gives direct access to the five volumes from the Woody Back to School Unit saga that are available for download for the very reasonable sum of $4.99 each. I have included a brief synopsis of the content of each book and of course I have kept the Free Preview Chapters available for your enjoyment.

Bottoms Up to a Successful Love our Lurkers Day and the Lighter Side of Spanking

Well, hearty congratulations to Bonnie over at My Bottom Smarts for organizing the successful and very fun Love our Lurkers Day. Also, kudos to all the bloggers who participated in the success. Hopefully we all made some new friends, got some feedback on our blogs, maybe inspired some new bloggers, but most of all had fun.

I think one of the most successful ingredients of the spanking relationship I share with My Beloved Jojo is that we find it fun. Of course, when we are role-playing and in the moment it is all deadly serious but in our day-to-day life we laugh and joke about spanking (see Jojo’s guest posts ‘A Spanking Good Life’ and ‘The Last Train to Whopsville’, where she articulates this subject much better than I can).

Speaking of fun, if you only do one thing every day after you have finished rummaging around this site take the time to click over to Hermione’s Heart. What I love about Hermione is that she describes her blog as ‘A mature woman’s sensitive, sometimes humorous, and always unique perspective on consensual, erotic spanking’, and that is exactly what she delivers. Great work Ma’am.

Just a head’s up, tomorrow I have a very special treat in store for our for our visitors when Jojo will provide her unique insight to the equally unique qualities of the Reform School Strap … mark your calendars … in the mean time have fun rummaging around this site, thanks again for stopping by and … Enjoy! … Bottoms Up! … RH

If you have been enjoying the Toon Collection and the book-extracts and you have finished reading the complimentary Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber and want to know more about the antics of the World’s greatest mega-mixes then cut along sharpish to the newly redesigned Woodettes Publication Page which gives direct access to the five volumes from the Woody Back to School Unit saga that are available for download for the very reasonable sum of $4.99 each. I have included a brief synopsis of the content of each book and of course I have kept the Free Preview Chapters available for your enjoyment.

Love our Lurkers Day – An Open Invitation to Delurk

Firstly my thanks to all the guests who visit the Woody Back to School Unit and secondly my thanks to Bonnie over at My Bottom Smarts for organizing Love our Lurkers Day.

Those of you who read my site (and I guess that means you) know that it is highly specialized in as much as it deals with the misadventures of a series of fictional characters who reside in a fictional world. Unlike most blogs it is not an autobiographical account of the life that I am fortunate enough to share with My Beloved Jojo.

This is not because we are anti-social, in fact back in the hey-day of the spanking chat rooms we were regular participants. I do occasionally write autobiographical anecdotes that I think help explain the inspirations for my stories, or accounts of those beautiful moments when a spanking nugget is dropped inadvertently into a vanilla conversation, and the recent new features written by My Beloved Jojo are of a more personal ilk.

I really started the blog as a forum to showcase my story writing and to self-publish the Woody Back to School Unit saga. It also gave me an opportunity to write in a different style and most recently to collaborate on the new Woody Toon Collection which is a fantastic new creative outlet. The blog was never intended to be the ‘The Diaries of R Humphries’.

I have now posted over 125 features and I can only judge my performance by the consistency of the daily guest count and by the sales of my books because I rarely receive comments or feedback from my guests. So, today the Woody Back to School Unit extends an open invitation to all of you to post a few comments. Tell me which characters you like best or which have been your favorite stories. Tell me how I can improve the site. In fact you can ask me anything you like. I can’t promise that I will divulge too many details about my private life with My Beloved Jojo but I will respond to anything about the Unit, the site, or about spanking in general.

Once again thanks for stopping by … don’t be strangers … I’m very approachable … Bottoms Up! … RH

If you have been enjoying the Toon Collection and the book-extracts and you have finished reading the complimentary Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber and want to know more about the antics of the World’s greatest mega-mixes then cut along sharpish to the newly redesigned Woodettes Publication Page which gives direct access to the five volumes from the Woody Back to School Unit saga that are available for download for the very reasonable sum of $4.99 each. I have included a brief synopsis of the content of each book and of course I have kept the Free Preview Chapters available for your enjoyment.

More Hanky-Spanky in the Stables

It was another busy week at the Unit with another record-breaking amount of guests turning out to view the new Toons, a new banner, an overhaul of the Woodettes Publications Page and some respectable book sales.

There’s plenty coming up next week. The Woody Back to School Unit is going to participate in a special Spanking Blogger’s event, My Beloved Jojo is going to post another of her popular guest articles and we have commissioned two more Woody Toons from Dave Ell … so watch this space … oh and by the way RH will also be obliged to go out and earn a crust in order to put food on the family table.

If I have any advice for new bloggers it’s pick a theme that does not involve having to edit in HTML. It’s not that it’s particularly difficult just time-consuming and very unforgiving, a minor error in syntax can throw the whole page out of kilter and is very hard to track down … oh well!

I have mentioned before that I have noticed considerable interest in anything that involves spanking in the equestrian arena. Woody Toon 4 – Nixdown Spanked in the Stables was a big hit … there’s a pun in there somewhere.

As I am otherwise engaged firing up the barbeque and cooking steaks for My Beloved Jojo (versatile chap that I am) I will leave you with this very brief extract from Volume 20 – The New Elite featuring Nixdown and Penny Ann enjoying some more hanky-spanky in the stables … enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH

Nixdown walked Penelope Ann Evans back up against the wall of the tack-room. She slowly began to unfasten the buttons of her statuesque lover’s red blazer. Penny Ann leaned back and purred softly as Nix helped her out of her jacket. Nicola Jane reached up and unfastened the top button of Penny’s blouse and loosened her tie.

“Did you bring the new crop?” breathed Nix as she ran her fingers down Penny’s cheek.

“Of course I did,” whispered Penny Ann and leaned down and pressed her lips to Nixdown’s.

Nixdown and Penny Ann had found a vintage riding crop in an antique shop in the local. It had a stag-horn handle and a seventeen-inch woven leather shaft with an over-sized flapper. Nixdown was keen to try it out. As usual her juices were in full flow after witnessing the evenings entertainments.

Penny Ann spread her lover out across her lap and flipped back her skirt. She rolled Nixdown’s bumbags down around her ankles and pulled her tightly into the crease of her lap.

Penelope Ann raised the crop in the air and sliced it downwards.

Nixdown squealed with delight. “Harder,” she giggled, “thrash me harder!”

Penelope Ann whipped the riding crop through the air and slashed it down across Nixdown’s naked nates.

“Hard enough for you?” she giggled and slashed the crop down again.

“Mmmmmmmmmmmmm!!!” yelped Nixdown appreciatively and wiggled her bum flirtatiously.

Just the usual polite reminder that Woodettes Publications commissions and purchases the Woody Toons along with the copyright. I have no objection to other sites using them as long as they are accompanied by appropriate acknowledgment to the source.

If you enjoyed the Toon and the extract and you have finished reading the complimentary Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber and want to know more about the antics of the World’s greatest mega-mixes then cut along sharpish to the newly redesigned Woodettes Publication Page which gives direct access to the five volumes from the Woody Back to School Unit saga that are available for download for the very reasonable sum of $4.99 each. I have included a brief synopsis of the content of each book and of course I have kept the Free Preview Chapters available for your enjoyment.

Another Brand New Woody Toon 8 – Spanked in Front of the Guests

This new Woody Toon is a slight variation on the normal theme as it takes place away from the Woody campus. Three times a year the inmates of the Woody Back to School Unit are allowed a temporary reprieve from the rigors of their custodial sentences. The Woody Wags call these periods ‘Cool Arse Furloughs’. Unfortunately, as you will see this does not always prove to be the case.

In this superbly rendered Dave Ell cartoon Deborah Morton has availed of her time away from the unit to pay a visit to her chaps back at Chez Morton. Now it should be noted that during her youth the family home was a spank-free zone. Whenever Debs misbehaved her mother would sit her down and explain that she would soon be shipped off to boarding school, “where they’ll beat some sense into you”. Debs is fond of recalling that they “certainly beat me but I don’t think we made much progress on the sense side of the equation!” It is not until Deborah is over twenty-five years old that she begins her unhealthy relationship with Ma’s wood-backed hairbrush and as you can see from the toon this is not a relationship that poor old Debs greatly enjoys.

The companion piece that accompanies this ‘toon can be found at ‘Spanked in Front of the Neighbor’s’. I have to admit that I enjoyed writing that particular piece and it was when I first posted it that I got the idea of commissioning Dave Ell to produce the Woody Toons.

I think the story and the cartoon capture many aspects of Debs mercurial personality. Of all my characters she is probably the one that displays the brattiest tendencies. Although she can be warm, witty and charming, she can also be petulant and churlish as she demonstrates in this little yarn. Once again my appreciation to Dave Ell for breathing such life into my characters … so time to kick back and enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH

 

 

Just the usual polite reminder that Woodettes Publications purchased these illustrations along with the copyright. I have no objection to other sites using them as long as they are accompanied by appropriate acknowledgment to the source.

If you enjoyed the Toon and the extract and you have finished reading the complimentary Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber and want to know more about the antics of the World’s greatest mega-mixes then cut along sharpish to the newly redesigned Woodettes Publication Page which gives direct access to the five volumes from the Woody Back to School Unit saga that are available for download for the very reasonable sum of $4.99 each. I have included a brief synopsis of the content of each book and of course I have kept the Free Preview Chapters available for your enjoyment.

Brand Spanking New Woody Toon 7 – Spanked in the Brat Chamber

We are proud to present the latest exclusive Toon from the growing Woody Toon Collection. As usual kudos to artist Dave Ell for taking the story-line and translating it into such graphic and amusing images. The full companion story can be found by clicking on this link, Jojo Meets the Grand Master.

 

 

We will be posting the Eighth Toon at around 10.00 p.m. US CST tomorrow so be sure to set your calendars and stop by … meanwhile kick-back and enjoy the Toon and the accompanying story … Bottoms Up! … RH

Just the usual polite reminder that Woodettes Publications purchased these illustrations along with the copyright. I have no objection to other sites using them as long as they are accompanied by appropriate acknowledgment to the source.

If you enjoyed the Toon and have finished reading the complimentary Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber and want to know more about the antics of the World’s greatest mega-mixes then cut along sharpish to the newly redesigned Woodettes Publication Page which gives direct access to the five volumes from the Woody Back to School Unit saga that are available for download for the very reasonable sum of $4.99 each. I have included a brief synopsis of the content of each book and of course I have kept the Free Preview Chapters available for your enjoyment.

More Woody Toons Coming Soon and Farewell to the Unknown Bum

Great news! We have two brand new Woody Toons scheduled for publication on Friday and Saturday so mark your calendars. Here’s a little teaser from Fridays upcoming post.

I decided that it was time to personalize the entry page here at the Unit, so click on the Home Page and take a look. I rather like it. So farewell to the red bum of the unknown model that has featured on my page since the Woody Back to School Unit first opened its doors to the public.

Of course the model, featured below, is not entirely unknown, she featured in numerous Janus photo-shoots and Gatisle films back in the seventies and eighties, but under names like Penelope and Lindy so I have no idea of her true identity. Nonetheless I would like to say ‘Thank you Ma’am’ for gracing my header for the past few months.

Over the weekend I redesigned the Woodettes Publication Page to give direct access to the five volumes from the Woody Back to School Unit saga that are available for download for the very reasonable sum of $4.99 each. I have included a brief synopsis of the content of each book and of course I have kept the free preview chapters available for your enjoyment. So cut along sharpish and have a look.

Due to business obligations I need to have it on my toes with some expediency … so just kick-back and have a good rummage around the site … there’s plenty to read … Bottoms Up! … RH

“I’ll Be Along to Beat You Shortly!”

The ridiculously pompous expression of today’s title was originally favored by the ridiculously pompous Headmaster of a school I attended (and yes folks, back in the day, they were allowed to speak to us like that). Personally it always made me feel inclined to pop him on the hooter but it does have all the necessary theatrical resonance for getting the point across so I use the phrase liberally throughout the Woody Back to School Unit saga.

At the Woody Unit the whole punishment ritual often starts with the ceremonious production of the red card. I think Dave Ell captured the ritual marvelously in the opening panel of Woody Toon 1 – Six of the Best for Jojo. Even though Jojo knows that once it has been produced the chance of a red card being rescinded is non-existent she can’t resist the temptation to show her dissent. I can almost hear her saying, “Ya gotta be kidding!” It was actually My Beloved Jojo who first suggested introducing the concept of red cards into the Woody stories, so she only has herself to blame!

Of course being ‘sent up’ invariably involves the unfortunate inmate being obliged to take up the time-honored pose of ‘nose and toes’ while she waits to be caned. Once again I think that Dave Ell captured the ritual perfectly.

Visitors who have rummaged through my assorted ramblings may have observed that I am almost as fascinated with the rituals that surround corporal punishment as the punishments themselves (well, almost). Clearly many of our guests share this interest as two vintage posts, ‘Outside the Punishment Room Waiting to be Caned’, and its companion piece ‘The Punishment Room’ have now moved to first and second place, respectively, as the most viewed Woody posts.

Over the weekend I redesigned the Woodettes Publications Page to give direct access to the five volumes from the Woody Back to School Unit saga that are available for download for the very reasonable sum of $4.99 each. I have included a brief synopsis of the content of each book and of course I have kept the free preview chapters available for your enjoyment.

Due to an over-abundance of sporting events available on the box today, (including the Chelsea vs. Liverpool match live!) I don’t have time for writing HTM-Hell but I will post a new story over the next few days … meanwhile kick-back, enjoy a glass of wine and have a good rummage around the site … Bottoms Up! … RH

Au Revoir to Laurent, plus the Fabulous Fart and Bacon Slicers

I was saddened to see that Laurent over at Le journal de la fessée has suffered from bloggers burn-out and is now closed for business. Still, the French nation remains well-represented by sites such as ‘la fessée conjugale’ and ‘Au Fils du Jours’ to name just two. If you’re out there, Laurent, and still reading blogs, all the very best of luck to you in the future mon ami.

This weekend’s Woody Toons’ played to packed houses and have attracted attention from such respected art houses as Underground Animations and Spanking Art Wiki (which is by the way a veritable Alladin’s Cave of Spanking Blogs and well worth a rummage). As a result of this successful foray into the world of international art I am considering opening negotiations with such esteemed institutes as the Smithsonian, the Guggenheim and the London Tate whose collections of spanking art are currently somewhat lacking in my opinion.

I have commissioned two more works from Dave Ell and they will hopefully be ready for posting next weekend. I have also posted the complete collection on Flickr which allows viewing of larger versions of the Toons (I think) and for them to be viewed as a slideshow (I’m not sure that any of this brought much to the party but I was experimenting!).

Over the weekend I redesigned the Woodettes Publications Page to give direct access to the five volumes from the Woody Back to School Unit saga that are available for download for the very reasonable sum of $4.99 each. I have included a brief synopsis of the content of each book and of course I have kept the free preview chapters available for your enjoyment.

And speaking of extracts today’s, which comes from Volume 2 – Operation Scorched Arse, recounts the unfortunate incident known in Woody lore as ‘The Fabulous Fart’. This somewhat unusual and rather unfeminine episode features Debs Morton. I feel rather guilty about showing Debs in this rather coarse and vulgar light (I get very attached to my characters) but due to the rather mercurial, reckless and often unpredictable nature of her personality she just seemed the ideal gal for the job. Oh well, she is after all just a fictional character.

By the way, the incident does have some kind of biographical derivation. Back in the day I remember this lad letting one rip in the classroom. We had an Irish gal in the class and for some reason this audible gaseous emission sent her into a fit of the giggles. I’ll always remember this incident as it was the poor gal who was made to stand up and hold out her hand so she could receive three whacks of the ruler. It struck me as somewhat unfair at the time but that was the classroom justice that we were brought up on (see also Bent over the piano stool and beaten with a violin bow).

The extract also brings the reader’s attention to a very specialized caning technique known in the trade as ‘Bacon Slicing’. The story gives the details but just for note this technique was introduced to RH from an extract in a rather famous British comedian’s autobiography (name excluded to protect the innocent). The cane is brought down vertically rather than horizontally and if delivered correctly the recipient will momentarily experience the alarming sensation that a thin layer of skin has been sliced off; hence the name. A word of warning. I have experimented with the technique and can assure you that it is very difficult to perfect and all training exercises should be tested on an inanimate object rather than a human bum!

So without further ado here goes … it’s the weekend so kick-back, pour a glass of wine or crack open a beer, or even fix a glass of milk and a plate of cookies … whatever you fancy … enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH

Before the week was out Deborah Morton received another tough lesson in exactly how hard life could be when you had been declared Public Enemy Number One at the nation’s most austere Back to School unit. Midway through a music tutorial Ms Whitton bent her over the piano stool and beat her with a violin bow.

“Morton, fetch the violin bow and step up!” snapped Ms Whitton, who acted as the Music Dame around the facility.

As she trudged towards the front of the room Deborah Morton had good reason to be alarmed.

For the first few years as an inmate at the facility Debs had been Ms Whitton’s star pupil. Her exceptional talent as a clarinetist and her fine singing voice had won her considerable favor with the Music Dame. However, fatefully that favored relationship would all change with a sound of another nature altogether.

During the autumn term of Deborah’s fourth year at the facility, the early rehearsals of the upcoming Woodys Christmas production of Handel’s Messiah were progressing extremely well. Ms Whitton smiled to herself as she guided the choir into the beginning of the Hallelujah chorus. She was particularly fond of the piece and had taken inordinate time and care over the arrangement.

Ms Whitton turned to lead in the altos. As the choristers began to sing she was surprised to notice that Deborah Morton had missed the beat. Thinking it to merely be an uncharacteristic error from her musical star she turned away, but moments later when she turned her attention back to the altos she was aghast to see that Deborah was not only not singing at all, but appeared to be engrossed in reading something she had extracted from her blazer pocket.

Angrily the music instructor indicated to the choir to stop.

“Morton,” she barked. “Step up before the choir this minute.”

Deborah was jolted to her senses and hurriedly stuffed the paper back into her pocket. Slightly red faced she made her way up before the enraged Dame.

“You’re not singing, gal” Ms Whitton snapped. “Explain yourself immediately.”

It would have been an easy matter for Deborah to have made up an excuse that she had a sore throat and didn’t want to strain herself, but instead what followed would earn Debs a place in the annals of Woody lore forever.

With perfect comic timing Deborah Morton farted.

It was not a small, secretive girly grunt but an enormous fart. Enough wind to make a gals skirt flap and to strain the seams of her bumbags. It was flatulence on a fantastic scale. It was a fart that swooped and soared and echoed throughout the hall.

T’was a veritably gargantuan guff.

For a moment the hall was quiet. Then Deborah Morton began to laugh. She rocked back on her heels and tickled her ribs with mirth. She was quickly accompanied by the hysterical tittering of the rest of the choir as they celebrated the sheer majesty of the fabulous fart.

Momentarily Ms Whitton stared at Deborah Morton, an incredulous look on her face. For a hefty lady she moved with remarkable speed. She grabbed Deborah Morton by the wrist and in a fluid movement sat back on the piano stool and dumped the helpless inmate face down over her knee. With even greater speed she had turned back Deborah’s skirt and to the amazement of the assembled choir she yanked Deborah’s bumbags down until they were concertinaed around her ankles.

At first Deborah had been winded by her dizzying downward journey but she quickly regained her breath and started to struggle. However, fit and athletic though she was, Deborah was no match for the brawny Dame.

“Leggo of me,” Deborah wailed, “Lemme up!”

The indignity of having her bare bottom displayed to the choir was just too ghastly and Deborah kicked and struggled and squirmed with all her strength.

“Lemme go you bitch!” she screamed.

Ms Whitton had a tight hold on the squirming inmate and an even firmer hold on the conductor’s baton, which she had raised high in the air. She brought the baton down with terrific force.

“Lemme go I tell you,” Deborah wailed as the baton flailed at her naked bottom. The baton rose and fell with startling speed. Deborah Morton vainly tried to escape from Ms Whitton’s vice-like grip but the Dame just kept on whacking. After six whacks Ms Whitton showed no inclination to stop, after a dozen she merely seemed to be warming to her work, and the blows continued to rain down.

Deborah Morton was no newcomer to having her butt whipped, but this was a thrashing without precedent. Deborah’s legs were kicking frantically; her body was twisting, her head shaking violently and Deborah Morton, amongst the toughest gals at the unit, started to howl.

The authority to administer punishment to the bare bottom was limited to the Grand Dame and the Red-shirt. Members of the Brass were strictly limited to administering six strokes during any single punishment. However, Ms Whitton seemed oblivious to these rules, her arm pumped up and down and Deborah’s bottom was being slashed to tatters. The skinny baton was only a light implement but administered with such purpose made it an instrument of stinging torment.

By now Deborah’s howls were changing from indignation to genuine distress. The baton continued to slice across her arse and the frenzied Dame was showing no signs of letting up. Deborah’s cheeks were criss-crossed with angry weals and her struggles were becoming frantic. Her legs scissored through the air, her buttocks squirmed and wriggled to escape the onslaught, she tried to put her hands back to protect herself to no avail, but still the beating continued.

The members of the choir watched in horrified awe. Ms Whitton was thrashing Deborah with the fervor of a frenzied zealot. Her arm was pumping up and down at a frantic pace.

Debs Morton had a reputation for inspiring ire in members of the Brass and the Elite but even by her unfortunate standards the untimely release of wind had pushed Ms Whitton over the brink. It appeared to the choristers that she was literally frothing at the mouth.

Finally after the baton had slashed across Deborah’s backside three dozen times or more Ms Whitton began to slow down. With three last swipes the whipping finally drew to a close.

The hall was suddenly silent. Ms Whitton dragged up Deborah’s bumbags and smoothed down her skirt. Debs remained sprawled across the Dame’s lap as if uncertain of what to do. Roughly Ms Whitton yanked Deborah to her feet. Debs, normally so self-assured, stood in front of the choir with her head bowed looking shell-shocked.

Ms Whitton pointed to the door. “Get out of my sight,” she snarled, and with a heavy tread Deborah Morton left the hall, tears trickling down her cheeks.

There was an enquiry of course; Deborah was given the opportunity to report the matter to her Court Appointed Guardian and to file a complaint. However, she knew that if she filed a complaint it would become a matter of public record. Four years earlier she had suffered the humiliation of her public arrest and the subsequent castigation in the press. Debs Morton was less than enthusiastic about returning to the public eye in relation to a fart, fabulous or otherwise. She elected to keep Woody business as Woody business. Ms Whitton was given a six-month ban from beating Deborah.

During the six months that followed the incident of the Fabulous Fart Ms Whitton sent Deborah to Coventry, limiting their relationship strictly to choir and orchestra business.

However, the night that Ms Lawton announced the implementation of Operation Scorched Arse and branded Debs as Public Enemy Number One was coincident with the end of the ban period. The Grand Dame took the music instructor to one side.

“Your thrashing rights over Deborah Morton have been fully reinstated,” the Grand Dame informed Ms Whitton. “I’m sure should the opportunity arise you will do the right thing.”

“Yes, Grand Dame,” grinned Ms Whitton. “It will be my pleasure.”

“But one thing, Ms Whitton,” said the Grand Dame. “Everything must appear one hundred per cent legitimate.”

“Of course Ma’am,” smiled the Dame, “I’ll take care of everything.”

Ms Whitton was considered to be a power-beater. She was large framed and extremely strong. She didn’t punish gals with the prolificacy of Patty Hodge, the Wart or Katie Beck but on the occasions she did choose to wield the violin bow the events were memorable.

Deborah Morton was stretched out across the piano stool with her bumbags sitting up proud. Above her the music instructor had the violin bow raised above her head. The low lie of the stool meant that by the time the tip of the bow reached its target it was moving at terminal velocity.

Deborah’s chums watched sympathetically. It was evident to everybody in the room that this was not a regular punishment. Ms Whitton was swiping the bow down with all her might, the sound of the wooden stick rebounding off Deborah’s bumbags literally echoed around the room.

The bow whistled through the air, colliding with Deborah’s defenseless bottom with unmitigated force. Debs bucked and wriggled and kicked. Her chums watched anxiously as Ms Whitton prepared for the last and probably most formidable swipe.

“Get up gal!” snapped Ms Whitton.

Deborah couldn’t believe her ears. The Dame must have miscounted. She was going to get off with five. Painfully she pushed herself up and smoothed her skirt down. Stiff-legged she slowly started back towards her desk.

“Where do you think you’re going?” barked the Dame.

Deborah turned and looked plaintively at Ms Whitton.

“Bend over,” the Dame snapped.

Deborah grimaced.

“Turn around Morton and bend over and touch your toes.”

Slowly Deborah turned and faced the seated inmates. She bent forward at the waist and reached down towards the tips of her shoes. Ms Whitton turned back the hem of her skirt.

The tension in the room was palpable. They watched Ms Whitton take careful aim, raise the violin bow in the air then slice it downwards. Involuntarily Deborah stood bolt upright her hands clasping at her cheeks, a look of anguish on her face. It was a perfectly executed bacon slicer.

Ms Whitton tapped the floor in front of Deborah’s shoes.

“Touch them Morton,” she snapped, “you know the form.”

With trembling fingers Deborah reached down.

Bacon slicing was a highly specialized technique. Instead of swiping the cane across the buttocks horizontally it was brought down vertically, aiming to make only the slightest contact. When executed perfectly it made a gal feel as if a layer of flesh had been sliced off. The sensation was short lived but instantly agonizing.

Ms Whitton slashed down a second perfectly executed bacon slicer. This time Deborah’s shoulders jolted back and her fingers raised six inches from her shoes. Despite her anguish she pushed forward and got her fingers back in place. She could hardly hold back the tears.

“Stay down,” ordered Ms Whitton.

“That ain’t fair!” growled Nicola Jane at the back of the room.

“Silence! Silence in the room!” bellowed Ms Whitton.

She slashed the violin bow down. For the third time Debs jerked up.

At the back of the room Jojo, Nix and Rosemary watched in horror. Debs fingers had hardly left her toes for a second but still the music instructor was calling it as a bad strike. Technically the protocols said that if a gal was touching her toes during punishment then she should not rise from position until given permission. However, even the harshest of Dames realized that the toe-touching position was extremely difficult to maintain and if a gal recovered her stance promptly the strike was called good. Ms Whitton was using the most ruthless interpretation of the protocols possible. Deborah only had two chances. She either had to stay down so that the six was complete or otherwise Ms Whitton had to miss.

The violin bow slashed down perfectly. The pain was almost insurmountable but somehow Deborah found the will to keep her fingers on her toes. Ms Whitton looked furious, but she had no choice, the beating was finally street legal.

“Get up gal,” she snarled. “Go back to your desk and stand on your chair with your hands on your head for the remainder of this tutorial.”

Spanking New Woody Toon 6 – Six on the Silks!

As promised here is the brand spanking new, exclusive Woody Toon 6. Yesterday’s Toon not only attracted a record breaking audience but the Woody Back to School Unit blazed passed 75,000 visitors. Not bad after just five months and 120 posts.

A huge thanks to Chross over at Chross Spanking Resources for including the Woody Toon’s amongst his ‘Spankings of the Week’ feature. Everybody in the spanking blog community knows how influential an acknowledgement from Chross can be and the huge impact on traffic. Also, my thanks to John and Dave over at the Spanking Review for including another Woody Toon in their October 2nd News round-up.

As usual I am amazed by my collaborator, the brilliant illustrator Dave Ell’s skill in interpreting my words and ideas and managing to transform them into four-panel toon’s that tell a whole story.

I particularly liked this toon as it adds a new insight into the daily lives of the inmates of the facility. It features Miss Melanie White, who is better known as ‘Melons’, to the Woody Wags, due to her gargantuan assets.

In this toon Melons is fulfilling her role as the Dorm Raider. She is responsible for ensuring that the inmates abide by the ‘no goofing, gabbing, larking or pranking’ protocols imposed after the lock-down, lights-out curfew. Just a note, despite the concentration and intensity on her face in the toon, in the books, Melons is actually one of the good gals. Nonetheless at Woodys even the good gals take the business of whops very seriously so poor old Debs and Rosemary are destined to spend an uncomfortable night sleeping on their tummies.

For an explanation of the quirky title of the toon, Six on the Silks, take a gander at one of my older posts ‘Bend Over Your Bed; I Intend to Give You Six on the Silks!’, for a little spanking enlightenment that may encourage some experimentation amongst the more curious amongst you.

 Meanwhile, without further ado here is the totally original Woody Toon 6 (note click twice on the image and then twice again for the best view) … it’s the weekend so pour a glass of wine, kick back and enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH

 

Just the usual polite reminder that Woodettes Publications purchased these illustrations along with the copyright. I have no objection to other sites using them as long as they are accompanied by appropriate acknowledgment to the source.

If you have enjoyed the Toon and have finished reading the complimentary edition of Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber available in the side-bar and want to learn more about the mega-minxes from the Woody Back to School Unit then cut along sharpish to the newly renovated and very hospitable Woodettes Publications Page and treat yourself by BUYING THE BOOKS! … downloading for just $4.99 per full length book is the cheapest and most expedient way to get access to hundreds of pages of Woody fun … You won’t be disappointed … Free preview chapters from all of the Thirty-Six full length books that are currently completed in the Woody Back to School Unit saga are also available for your enjoyment … so kick back and relax … Bottoms Up! Thanks for stopping by … RH

Brand New Woody Toon 5 – Holy Smoking Bumbags!

After last night’s tantalizing teaser here is the full-four panel version of the brand new, exclusive Woody Toon 5.

My thanks, as always, to my collaborator, the brilliant illustrator Dave Ell, for breathing so much life into the characters. Today’s toon features the first appearance of the Woody Back to School Unit’s arch-villainess Patty Hodge.

Patricia Hodge, or ‘Thrasher’, as she is colloquially known to the Woody Wags is an archetypical Whop Junkie who gets her fixes by whopping the crap out of the inmate’s tautened navy blue bumbags at every opportunity. On this occasion her hapless victim is Rosemary Booker. Although Rosemary is legendary for her incredible threshold for pain even she is not impervious to the effects of a cracking six of the best delivered with one of Patty’s trademark wye-tipped canes.

Patty first developed the proto-types for her wicked canes back in her schooldays when she served as the Head-prefect at the original prestigious Woody School. The guinea pig for many of her heinous experiments was none other than Miss Susan Lawton who would later become her employer at the Woody Back to School Unit (see Ms Lawton the Original Grand Dame). Patty decided to test out the effects of taping two whippy ashplant canes together and slashing them down across the upturned derriere of the unfortunate Susan. Patty was so impressed by the results that she immediately commissioned a brace of wye-tipped canes from a purveyor who specialized in the production of such merchandise. For nearly three decades she has left her luckless victims with the disquieting impression that they have just been branded. (Of course you would know that if you’ve been buying the books!)

I hope you like this latest rendition and log on at midnight tomorrow for yet another new and exclusive Woody Toon … enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH

Just the usual polite reminder that Woodettes Publications purchased these illustrations along with the copyright. I have no objection to other sites using them as long as they are accompanied by appropriate acknowledgment to the source.

If you have enjoyed the Toon and have finished reading the complimentary edition of Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber available in the side-bar and want to learn more about the mega-minxes from the Woody Back to School Unit then cut along sharpish to the Woodettes Storefront and treat yourself by BUYING THE BOOKS! … downloading for just $4.99 per full length book is the cheapest and most expedient way to get access to hundreds of pages of Woody fun … You won’t be disappointed … Bottoms Up! Thanks for stopping by … RH

Don’t Forget – Free Chapters of the Woody Back to School Unit spanking saga are available at the Woodettes Publications Page.

Woody Toons Preview

A preview frame from the the first of two completely new and exclusive Woody Toons that will be posted at 12:00 a.m. US CMT on Friday and Saturday so mark your calendars!

I am currently otherwise engaged in matters of import with My Beloved Jojo so as usual … enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH

If you have been enjoying the Toon’s and have finished reading the complimentary edition of Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber available in the side-bar and want to learn more about the mega-minxes from the Woody Back to School Unit then cut along sharpish to the Woodettes Storefront and treat yourself by BUYING THE BOOKS! … downloading for just $4.99 per full length book is the cheapest and most expedient way to get access to hundreds of pages of Woody fun … You won’t be disappointed … Bottoms Up! Thanks for stopping by … RH

Don’t Forget – Free Chapters of the Woody Back to School Unit spanking saga are available at the Woodettes Publications Page.