Why Don’t You Bend Over and Touch Your Toes?

That phrase is just so evocative/provocative. When entered into idle conversation with the appropriate gravitas it is guaranteed to send a shiver up the spine of even the most whop-hardened minx.

Occasionally when we are playing I will unexpectedly instruct My Beloved Jojo to bend over and touch them. This always elicits a spluttered response of “Waddayamean? Now?” When I nod firmly there are generally some grumbled mutterings before she peels off her blazer and complies.

At the Woody Back to School Unit the members of the Elite are required to carry their whippy ashplant canes tucked under their arms wherever they go. Although it is generally customary to dispatch miscreants to the punishment room to be beaten occasionally the prefect might have alternative engagements and will decide to deal with the matter on the spot. These spontaneous punishments are deeply unpopular with the inmates. Being forced to bend over in a busy thoroughfare or the crowded recreation area is considered to be rather undignified.

I am not sure of the provenance of this picture. According to the date on the image file on my computer I found it on the net back in the early days of the net and I suspect it was found on the now defunct Bernie’s web-site. Of course this young lady is not actually touching her toes in full accordance with the official toe-touching policies instituted at the Woody Unit but we won’t split hairs.

At the Woody Unit there are stringent guidelines for gals required to bend over and touch them (there are stringent rules governing almost every element of the inmate’s daily lives). During a thrashing their fingers must remain glued to their shoes at all times. In the event that the unfortunate recipient ‘jerks up’ the stroke can be discounted and will be repeated.

In fairness the majority of the Brass and the Elite will cut the gals some slack and as long as they return to the required position in a reasonable time they allow the stroke to count. Of course this protocol is open for abuse by the crueler Dames and members of the Secret Sorority of Serial Spankers.

The following extract is from ‘Volume 2 – Operation Scorched Arse’ which is available for purchase at the Woodettes Storefront. It features poor old Debs Morton (as usual) falling foul of the strictest imposition of the no jerking protocol.

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.”

If you liked the extract BUY THE BOOK! Lol! 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.