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.
Ms Susan Lawton – The Original Grand Dame
The Woody Toon’s have attracted a lot of interest around the community. The influential Spanking Review featured the first two Toon’s at the head of their news round-up for the week of 25th September, so thanks to John and Dave for that.
Garth over at Behind the Barred Window also featured one of the Toons so thanks dear boy. By the way Garth is nursing an injured hand due to a cycling accident so stop by his site and leave him a ‘Get Well Soon’ greeting!
Just one last note, thanks to everybody concerned for having the courtesy to include an acknowledgement of this site as the originator, much appreciated.
A number of art and cartoon sites and forums have also featured the Toon’s and the comments have all been very positive. Of course this is largely due to the fact that the well-known and highly-respected illustrator Dave Ell is responsible for interpreting the stories and breathing life into the inmates of the Woody Back to School Unit.
One such character is Dave’s wonderful rendition of Ms Lawton, the original Grand Dame of the Woody Back to School Unit (that’s her wielding the cane). Ms Lawton is based upon a well-respected member of the communications community so the only clue that I shall give is that despite her refined presence portrayed to the world at large she was once famously caught unwittingly by the camera, bursting out with laughter and remarking quite eloquently, ‘fuck me ‘til I fart!’ Make of Dave’s interpretation what you will, but her secret remains with RH!
I am currently otherwise engaged in matters of import with My Beloved Jojo … so as usual, folks … enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH
If you have been enjoying the Toon’s, enjoyed this extract 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.
Congratulations to Bonnie at My Bottom Smarts and a Smarting Bottom for Debs
First off, congratulations to Bonnie at My Bottoms Smarts for celebrating her fourth anniversary as a blogette. That’s a helluva a lot of blogging Ma’am! I think everybody in our community wishes her a hearty smack on the bum for her generous and unfailingly courteous support. Stop off and visit her anniversary post which features some of her own selected highlights … well worth a read. Thanks a million Bonnie!
Thanks as always to all of you who have been kind enough to include links to this page on your sites. I have always been a fan of Paul England’s work over at Spanking Facts and Research and am pleased to have exchanged links with his site. SFR contains a mixture of DVD’s for sale, a page dedicated to authenticated accounts of celebrity spankings, and extracts from the Friends Reunited pages of females remembering their true experiences of corporal punishment. Plenty of free stuff and good reading, so it’s well worth a rummage.
Well Woody Toon’s 1 to 4 were a great success (see sidebar for complete collection) and I am considering commissioning some more. But to be honest even though the wonderful illustrator Dave Ell’s fees are very reasonable I can only really justify the expense if sales of the Woody Back to School Unit books support the project. Just a friendly nudge in the direction of the Woodettes Storefront folks! Although here I go again, giving away more free stuff.
Today’s extract from Volume 3 – A Year of Sitting Painfully, currently available for purchase from the Woodettes Storefront, Debs Morton is granted a weekend pass from the unit to participate in a prestigious tennis tournament. She is looking forward to a cool-arse weekend but the heinous members of the Secret Sorority of Serial Spankers have other plans … Enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH
Deborah placed her duffel bag and tennis racquets in the trunk of her mother’s car. Debs had been granted a weekend pass to play in a prestigious amateur tennis tournament in the north of the country. Unusually Ms Lummell, who acted as her coach, was unavailable to accompany her. To comply with the supervisory rules of her sentence Ma Morton had volunteered to stand in.
Ma Morton was chatting with Jane Lummell getting some last minute instructions. Debs was getting antsy. She wanted to put some distance between her bumbags and the canes at the facility for a couple of much needed cool-arse days.
“I’m sorry, Morton,” said Jennifer Gardiner in a low voice, “but I have to give you this.”
Debs gaped at the grubby as she shoved a red envelope into her hand.
“Evans is waiting for you in the library,” said Jen and hurried off.
Deborah’s mind was racing. Glancing around the parking lot she saw Yvonne and Janet. They were watching her with fish-eating smirks on their faces.
“Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!” muttered Debs. She hurried over to her mother.
“I’ll be right back,” she said as cheerfully as she could muster. “I left something upstairs.”
Her mother just shrugged and carried on chatting.
Deborah hurried through the corridors, taking the stairs two at a time. She speed-walked down the landing leading to the library and burst through the door.
Penelope Ann Evans was waiting for her. “Look Debs, I don’t like this any more than you do,” the Red-shirt started to say. “If you want to appeal I’ll support you.”
Debs shrugged off her blazer as she hurried down the library. “There’s no time for that Evans,” she said, tossing her jacket to one side. “We need to get this over as quickly as possible.” She grabbed the spanking stool and placed it in front of the fireplace. “Hurry up Evans, we haven’t got all day.”
Deborah was seething. She knew that Yvonne and Janet had stitched her up like a kipper. Somehow they must have learned that Ma was picking her up so they had left issuing the fateful fifth black mark until the last minute. They had probably guessed that Debs wouldn’t wish to enter into the protracted appeal process with her mother waiting outside in the car-park.
They had banked on the fact that she would be forced to allow herself to be subjected to a totally bogus dangling. It made her blood boil.
Under normal circumstances danglings were drawn out affairs. However Penny Ann gathered from Deborah’s desperate sense of urgency that the circumstances were not normal. She flipped back Deborah’s skirt and quickly rolled down her bumbags. She raised the ceremonial hairbrush in the air and slammed it down.
Deborah writhed and kicked her legs. She pummeled the air with her fists and shook her head from side to side. The blistering salvo was absolutely excruciating. Penny Ann was working quickly and the whole affair took barely thirty seconds.
Deborah slid off Penny Ann’s lap, grabbing under her skirt to straighten her bumbags. She felt quite giddy and her backside was roaring like a furnace. She limped over to where her discarded blazer had landed and reached for her Punishment Record Book.
Penny Ann wrote as quickly as possible. Debs was replacing her blazer and rubbing her eyes on the sleeve.
“Are you okay?” asked Penny Ann.
Deborah pursed her lips and nodded. She grabbed the book out of the Red-shirts hand and hurried out of the library.
“I’m sorry about that, Ma,” panted Debs.
“Are you alright, Deborah?” asked her mother. “You look a little flushed.”
“I’m fine, Ma,” Debs lied. “We should get going; I don’t want to be late for registration for the tournament.”
Ma Morton said her goodbyes to Ms Lummell and opened the door to the driver’s seat. “Are you going to drive?” she asked Debs.
“No, Ma. You drive,” mumbled Deborah. “If you don’t mind I’d like to sit in the back and take a nap. You’re right I’m not feeling too good, I’ve got a splitting headache.”
Her mother nodded sympathetically.
Deborah slid painfully into the back seat. Across the car park she caught Yvonne and Janet’s eyes. They waved at her gleefully. Deborah Morton shot them the bird and settled in for a long painful journey.
If you have been enjoying the Toon’s, enjoyed this extract 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 Toon 4 – Nixdown Gets Spanked in the Stables
Today’s exclusive cartoon features Nixdown Nixon, the self-proclaimed resident degenerate at the Woody Back to School Unit, up-to some hanky-spanky in the stables with her lover Penny-Ann.
Nix was the first true ‘woman of kink’ that I ever encountered. She was proudly promiscuous and made no secret of her taste for lovers of either gender.
Nix and Penny-Ann seemed unlikely partners. Penny-Ann was the quintessential English-rose, very demure and cultured. In contrast Nix was flamboyant and almost certainly certifiably barking. Nonetheless, they shared a passion for horse-riding and they remained an item for several years before Nix decided to spontaneously embark on another ill-fated marriage.
Once again Dave Ell has managed to capture the essence of two of my favorite characters and Nix if you are lurking about in the South African shadows of cyber-space I hope you like this little homage.
Dave Ell is available for commissions at dlodgy53@yahoo.com.
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 liked 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.
Another Exclusive Woody Cartoon – A Very Public Spanking
Today’s exclusive and original Woody Toon features the mercurial Debs Morton up to her bumbags in trouble. Once again Dave Ell has demonstrated his remarkable talent for interpretation. If you take the time to read the full story at A Very Public Spanking you will see what I mean. Dave manages to keep on-plot without any unnecessary or distracting clutter. He is available for commissions at dlodgy53@yahoo.com.
Debs being evicted from morning assembly is something of a recurring theme throughout the Woody Back to School Unit saga. This story-line was inspired by a comment made by my cousin regarding Debbie, the individual that Debs character is based upon. She told me that “she (Debbie) was always being chucked out of assembly”. For some reason I latched onto this off-hand comment as it seemed to epitomize the conflicting character traits of the lady in question.
I found it fascinating that this prodigiously talented young lady, scholastically exceptional, a gifted musician and probably the best tennis player in the county, should also prove to be fatally flawed.
Now there are two sides to every story and during our momentous conversation in Montreal (see Conversations with Debbie and the Vanilla Nuggets) Debbie assured me that she was often singled out unreasonably and regularly made an example of. She never really clarified the root-cause of this harsh treatment but as she is a direct and very honest sort of cove I can only assume that there is an element of truth in her allegation.
Nonetheless, I also learned that she was expelled from two very respectable schools (or leastways made persona non grata), that she got the cane at least twice, and the slipper at least once. My cousin also described Debbie as “by far the naughtiest gal in the school”. Even more memorably her mother informed me in an off-hand over-dinner comment that ‘it was Debbie who always needed to be spanked’. So, no smoke without fire, perhaps, but unfortunately I doubt I will ever know the full story.
In the books Debs Morton suffers from a chronic case of compulsive impulsive behavior syndrome; probably resulting from an over-active naughty gene. This incurable disorder causes her to act in an impetuous and often irrational manner that always seems to end up with her having her arse much higher than her head.
Once again my thanks to Dave Ell for capturing the essence of Debs and bringing her to life in this wonderful toon (just click on the image twice to get the full version) … 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 liked 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.
More Woody Toons Coming Soon
The response to Woody Toon 1 and Woody Toon 2 has been remarkable; it just goes to show a picture speaks a thousand words. We will be publishing new ‘toons on Friday and Saturday so watch this space.
Of course this will always remain a pre-dominantly writing site featuring the adventures and antics of the inmates of the Woody Back to School Unit. Hopefully the ‘toons are helping visitors better understand the premise of the saga and encourage you to dig into your hard-earned’s and visit the Woodettes Storefront.
The inmates are young women who have been seized by the Dark Agents of the System, a covert government agency, and charged with Extreme Ladetting. These are not Ladettes of the vodka-swilling, ring-pierced and tattooed variety but refined and successful business-women (for the most part) targeted by an incompetent government. Of course this is fiction and far be it for me to suggest that any fine and up-standing western governments’ would stoop to such tactics to divert attention from acts of social ineptitude and fiscal buffoonery; at least, not while there is still a shed-load of unsuspecting small nations just crying out to be invaded. Enough of that; this is an apolitical, non-denominational site established to celebrate the joys of spanking and minxing. So, kick back, have a good rummage and most importantly enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH
If you are enjoying the cartoons 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.
Another Exclusive Woody Cartoon
The Woody Back to School Unit is proud to present Woody Toon 2, the second in a series of exclusive Woody Cartoons created in collaboration with the wonderful artist Dave Ell.
This should really have been the first as it establishes the background and premise behind the whole Woody Back to School Unit saga. Once again Dave has managed to capture thousands of words in just four graphic panels. Just click on the image twice to see the full-size version.
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 liked the cartoon 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.
Jojo Meets the Grand Master
Yesterday’s posting of the original Woody Toon 1 cartoon was a resounding success. The illustrator, Dave Ell and I are already working on more in the series and I intend to make the Toons a periodic feature of the Woody Back to School Unit site, so keep checking back or better still subscribe to the RSS feed and you won’t miss a trick.
I don’t spend too much time poring over the statistics regarding visitors to my site but was interested to observe that I had one visitor yesterday/today that spent 23 hours at Woodys and apparently read every post on the site … that is some very dedicated reading. So welcome to this avid guest … you know who you are.
I also noticed that I had a lengthy visit from Kenya from an IP address in a safari park. Now like all bloggers I’m pretty proud of my site but I wouldn’t have thought that it was so compelling that punters who have shelled out squillions of their hard-earneds to experience the majestic beauty of the Serengeti would take time out from photographing the exotic wild-life to get a quick (not so quick, one hour plus) Woody fix. But welcome anyway and I hope you are having a fabulous vacation.
And finally on this subject, I was also interested to note that the Google search ‘true salad unit one’ also led a surfer to my site. Not only was that surprising but the visitor(s) returned three times. I’m not even sure what the search meant.
Today’s extract from Volume 5 – A New Regime, available at the Woodettes Storefront, is another piece that may well end up being translated in to a Woody Toon. One of the interesting things that has come out of working with Dave Ell is I now find myself thumbing through the Woody Back to School Unit saga and looking for extracts that could be captured in four panels of artwork … I have posted the accompanying illustration in an earlier post but never published the story (unfortunately the spanker is the wrong gender for the yarn and as you can tell from the new Woody Toon it’s not Jojo … but oh well!) … Anyway it’s Sunday, kick back, have a beer or a glass of wine … and enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH.
“He did what now?” asked Debs as she burst into the study.
“He took her down to the Brat-chamber and spanked her,” reported Nixdown.
“You have to be kidding me,” gasped Deborah.
Nix shook her head firmly. “Sadly not,” she said.
Debs and Nixdown peered down at Jojo’s rear end. Joanna was spread out across Rosemary Booker’s lap having her wounds kneaded with mystical balms. There was absolutely no question that they were viewing a well-spanked bottom. The flesh was a cherry red from top to tail.
“And he caned her,” said Rosemary.
“We can see that, silly,” said Debs. She continued her inspection. “Damn good formation,” she said approvingly.
“Good grouping,” agreed Nix, “and no sign of wraparounds. Just a good clean licking.”
“Favors the five bar gate, I see,” observed Debs. “So, how was he?”
“Different,” said Jojo. “Very, very different.”
At the back of the lecture room Jojo passed the note across to Nixdown, an ecstatic look on her face. On her way to the lecture room she had passed by the common room and was delighted to find an envelope in her pigeonhole. The writing on the front was unmistakable. Secreting the envelope in her satchel she hurried to attend her lecture.
Throughout the geography lecture Joanna desperately tried to pay attention to Ms Wharton’s boring monologue on the subject of Venezuela’s mineral reserves, but all she could think about was the envelope in her bag. Finally temptation got the better of her and when she was sure that the Wart wasn’t looking Jojo surreptitiously removed it and placed it on her desk, hiding it under her textbook. With subtle fingers she worked the envelope open and extracted its contents.
To her delight she found a pretty card and when she opened it she read the message; “My Dearest Jojo, Thank you for the wonderful summer, I’ll never forget you, Love Mario.”
She read it twice and then with a delighted grin she passed it across to her chum, Nicola Jane.
Nix smiled, winked and made a crude gesture with her tongue. Involuntarily Joanna began to giggle uncontrollably. Quickly she clapped her hand to her mouth but she knew it was too late. Balefully she looked towards the front of the room and saw the gimlet gaze with which the Wart had fixed her.
“Stand up gal, yes you gal!” the Geo-Dame snapped.
“Me, Ma’am?” Joanna asked with a look of feigned surprise on her face.
The Warts face darkened. “Yes you Heyworth, who else do you think I’m talking to?”
“Oh,” muttered Joanna. She pushed her chair back and rose to her feet.
“So tell me Heyworth what do you find so amusing?” the Wart demanded.
“Amusing Ma’am? Well nothing. Nothing that I can think of. I am not amused,” Jojo replied quickly. “Not amused at all.”
By now the Dame was bustling up the aisle. Jojo breathed deeply and did her best to look penitent.
“I was just momentarily distracted Ma’am. I apologize it won’t happen again,” Joanna said hurriedly.
Reaching Jojo’s desk the Dame picked up her textbook and scrutinized it.
“Have you any idea of the subject matter we have been discussing?” the Wart asked irritably.
“Yes of course Ma’am,” Joanna said confidently. “The oil reserves of Lake Maracaibo.”
The Geo-Dame stared intently at Joanna, not speaking. A flicker of a wolfish smile crossed her face. It was a smile that Jojo recognized all too well. Her heart sank.
“Oh shit,” she thought, “clearly not.”
Slowly, methodically Ms. Wharton shook her head.
“No, Heyworth. The subject of Lake Maracaibo was closed some time ago. Evidently your distraction was something more than momentary.”
“Picky bitch,” thought Joanna.
“How many times have I beaten you Heyworth?” the Dame asked.
“Oh good grief,” thought Joanna. She did her best to meet the tutor’s gaze evenly. The Wart was amongst the most despised Dames at the unit and specialized in sweating the inmates.
Joanna shrugged, “Dunno Ma’am, probably once or twice if I remember correctly,” she muttered.
“Once or twice?” the Dame mused. “I would put it you that your memory might be playing tricks with you.”
Joanna Heyworth glared at the Geo-Dame. “You can put it where the sun doesn’t shine,” she thought angrily. “Well maybe a few more than that. I could check my punishment record book if you need precise statistics,” she muttered darkly.
“Well on this occasion I shan’t be adding to that statistic,” said the Wart and reached into her pocket. Theatrically the Geo-Dame extracted her red card and thrust it in Jojo’s face.
“You’re out of here Heyworth,” she snarled nastily. “And tell the Grand Master that I want you beaten soundly for disrupting my lecture.”
Jojo glared at the Wart and pushed back her seat.
Jojo closed the door behind her and started down the corridor. She had only taken a few paces when she was startled by an explosive crack echoing out from behind a door a little further down the hallway.
To a Woody gal there was no mistaking the sound. To Jojo’s surprise the crack appeared to have come from the direction of the room normally occupied by the Elite. She approached the door and peeked through the window. Her suspicions were correct. Inside the room the prefect’s heads were all turned towards a desk in the center of the room.
Although the gal bent across the desks head was obscured there was no mistaking the long feline form. Jojo instantly identified the figure prostrated with her bumbags in the air as Claire Brooks.
Jojo winced as Pauline Gascoigne slashed the cane downwards. She could tell from the way that the Dame had Claire set-up that she meant business. Jojo Heyworth knew from painful experience that Claire Brooks was in the process of being absolutely creamed.
Out of respect for her chum Jojo waited until the thrashing was over before she continued on her journey.
Joanna stomped through the corridors, her mind racing. This was bad. The first day of lectures and she was already up to her eyes in hot water. The prospect of confronting the new Grand Master for the first time on a disciplinary matter sent a chill up her spine.
During her performance review Mr Humphries had been extremely amiable. They had talked at length about her interests in art, music and drama. He seemed to be genuinely interested and accessible, unlike Ms Lawton who had sometimes appeared a distant and remote figure, permanently locked away in her ivory tower.
During his first week of office he was often seen around the compound, chatting with the gals and discussing their activities with enthusiasm. He made jokes during assembly and always seemed to be smiling. Vicky Brompton, who dealt with him on a day-to-day basis, said he was a thoroughly good egg.
Nonetheless, despite his cheerful demeanor he emanated an unmistakable air of confident authority and nobody was in any doubt as to who was now in charge of the unit.
Jojo passed by the heavy oak door of the Grand Master’s office until she reached a second office. She tapped on the door and went in.
Katie Beck was seated behind her desk. As usual she was dressed in her skin tight crisp white uniform, which she left unbuttoned enough to amply exhibit her cleavage. Idly Joanna wondered how long it would be before the vivacious Beckster got her claws into Mr. Humphries.
“I need inspecting,” Jojo informed the Matron through gritted teeth. Amongst the many indignities the Woody Gals were forced to endure, the pre-whop inspection was one of the most hated.
Katie grinned cheerfully. “So early in the term and you just couldn’t wait to be whopped.”
Joanna crossed to the ante-room, put her hands under her skirt and rolled her bumbags down to the tops of her thighs, flipped her skirt up and bent forward and laid her chest on the desk.
Behind her Katie poked and prodded and pinched the upturned backside. Then after delivering an unnecessary slap she pronounced Jojo’s bum to be “in splendid shape for a whopping.”
Theoretically the purpose of inspection was to ensure no damage, other than the obvious, would be done to a gal’s butt from corporal punishment. Nobody could remember a gal being deemed unfit for punishment by the wicked Katie.
Joanna corrected her attire, threw a glower at Katie and headed towards the heavy oak door.
“I’m sorry to bother you, sir,” Joanna Heyworth said with as much confidence as she could muster, “but Ms Wharton sent me up to be caned.”
For a short moment the Grand Master sat in silence behind the large oak desk, calmly perusing the pretty red-head standing before him.
“Ah,” he said casually. “Miss Heyworth. This is rather satisfactory. I staked fifty quid on you with the Bounder.”
Joanna stared at him incredulously.
“You placed a bet with the Bounder sir?”
He smiled cheerfully. “Why certainly. She seems a very enterprising young lady.”
“And you bet on me?”
“Yes Heyworth. Who else? After all I do have access to the records and I thought that even at five to one you were worth a flutter.”
“Oh good grief!” spluttered Jojo in astonishment.
Mr. Humphries sat quietly behind his desk staring at the screen of his computer. Joanna stood pensively in the middle of the room doing her best not to fidget. The Grand Master seemed relaxed and not the least perturbed by her presence. She found his silence a little unnerving.
The Grand Master finally turned away from the computer and smiled cheerfully at Joanna. “Quite the minx aren’t we Miss Heyworth?” he grinned.
Jojo flushed a little but said nothing.
“When I took this job,” Mr. Humphries drawled languidly, “I was informed of a certain element of dedicated mischief makers around the place. Your name came up quite regularly in this context.”
Joanna pursed her lips.
“Oh shit,” she thought to herself.
“You have told me you have been sent up for the cane? Is that correct?” he said amiably.
“Yes sir,” Joanna mumbled.
“And for what particular malfeasance are you honoring me with your presence today, Miss Heyworth?” he drawled.
Joanna frowned. “Well sir,” she started, “it’s all a misunderstanding really. I was momentarily distracted, it’s sometimes hard to concentrate during the first days of term don’t ya know sir?”
Mr. Humphries looked askance.
“Well momentary distraction hardly seems a caning offense,” he said idly. “After all we wouldn’t want you going about with a very sore bottom just for a lapse of concentration would we? If that’s all there is perhaps I should take it up with the Dame in question. Seems damned intolerant of her. Who was it you said sent you up?”
“Umm … Ms Wharton, sir. But, sir, there was some other trivial stuff,” Jojo mumbled.
“Oh, pray tell.”
“Well sir I suppose I was giggling a bit,” Joanna tried to think of the right words to use.
He watched her silently.
“She kind of said I was kind of disrupting the lecture,” she blurted out.
“Kind of? How does one kind of disrupt a lecture?” he asked casually.
“Well sir that’s what she said, she said I was disrupting the lecture but I really don’t think I was. As I said I was merely momentarily distracted, and then well I started giggling, and well when she looked I had kind of lost my place in the book and…” she trailed off.
“And?”
“And, well, she sent me up for six, sir.”
The Grand Master smiled cheerfully and span around in his chair and began to look out of the window.
Joanna studied the Grand Master; he seemed quite reasonable. Ms. Lawton had rarely questioned the judgment of the Brass, if gals were sent up for six she felt duty bound to deliver them. On several occasions Joanna had been keen to present a defense to the Grand Dame but before she knew it she was head down, arse up with the stinging senior cane working its magic on her defenseless nates.
Not that she really thought that her rather lame defense was likely to have much effect, but at least Mr Humphries had let her have her say.
Mr Humphries finally turned his chair around and stood up. He smiled as he walked around his desk. Jojo expected him to cross to the tallboy where the canes were kept and she was just about to shrug off her blazer when he crossed to the door.
“Come with me Joanna,” he said in a calm voice.
They walked together through the same labyrinth of corridors that Jojo had stomped through minutes earlier. He appeared to be taking her back to the lecture room. She surmised that he wanted to confer with the Wart. Jojo was not enthused by the idea. She was certain that given the opportunity that the Wart would make up some right porkies and make matters worse.
To Jojo’s surprise they continued past the lecture room she had been dismissed from and continued along the corridor. She was now thoroughly bewildered.
Finally they reached another room and he turned the doorknob. He pushed open the door and ushered Joanna inside. Jojo gaped.
Ms Powell, the Dame who taught English Literature at the facility, stopped in midstream, looking to Mr Humphries in surprise.
“Grand Master?” she asked.
“Oh do excuse me Ms Powell,” he said in a relaxed manner. “This will take but just a few moments.”
He turned and addressed the room full of the newest entrants to the social rehabilitation program. “Good morning ladies,” he started.
“Good morning sir,” the new inmates chorused.
“You may or may not know of Miss Heyworth,” Mr Humphries said pointing at Jojo, “but I’m sure in the fullness of time you will learn of her reputation. The problem is that Miss Heyworth has been at the facility for some years yet she continues to behave as if she is a newcomer.” As he spoke the Grand Master walked over to the Dame’s desk and brought her chair to the front of the lecture room. He sat down on the chair.
“Oh good fucking grief,” thought Joanna in disbelief.
“This morning I would like to give you an exhibition of what happens should you choose to emulate Miss Heyworth’s penchant for disrupting your academic activities.” He beckoned to Jojo. “If you would be so kind, Miss Heyworth, as to arrange yourself across my lap we can begin,” he said amiably.
Unwillingly Jojo approached the Grand Master. He appeared totally calm, as if this was the most normal occurrence in the world.
Jojo felt his hand on her wrist and he gently guided her downwards.
On the way back to the Grand Master’s office Mr Humphries seemed unperturbed. Jojo on the other hand was deeply perturbed. She was in a state of considerable shock.
Mr Humphries had put her across his knee, flipped up her skirt and spanked her vigorously. Very vigorously. He had given her six sets of six smacks on alternating cheeks, covering every inch of her bum from top to tail.
After he had released Jojo he had politely apologized to the English Dame, wished the Little Brats good day and informed Joanna that there was still a matter of a caning to conclude.
Joanna slipped off her blazer and hung it over the back of the straight-backed chair. Jojo watched as the Grand Master selected a cane from the collection hanging from hooks in the tall-boy. He took his time, flexing each one and swishing them through the air. Jojo turned back and faced the chair. Then, with a deep breath, she leaned forward and bent over.
Mr Humphries folded back Joanna’s skirt. He watched as she raised her hips slightly to allow him to lower her bumbags and roll them down over her hips. She maneuvered herself further over the chair, until she had a hold on the crossbar. She kept her knees closely locked together. He stepped back and took a tight grip on the cane, placing it squarely across the crown to take his measure.
“Yikes,” thought Jojo as the cane swiped down. The straight-backed chair had been the setting for many of Jojo’s most challenging moments. Her rise to the top of the Hall of Shame had brought her to the principal’s office on a very regular basis and each visit had predictably been concluded in the same painful manner. When the cane striped across her backside she realized immediately that she would need to draw on every moment of her many experiences bent over the very same chair.
Jojo smoothed her skirt down and took her blazer from the back of the chair. She pulled on the jacket and slowly fastened the top button. She turned around. The Grand Master was hanging the long, thin cane back in the tall-boy. He turned away and caught her eye.
“Well, how was it Heyworth?” he asked her casually.
Jojo frowned. “Middling, I suppose,” she said tightly as she handed over her Punishment Record Book so that the beating could be post-processed.
“Only middling? Well I’ll have to try harder next time,” he grinned as he entered the details in the small book, “and I’m sure that there will be a next time.”
“Grrrrrrrrr!” muttered Joanna Heyworth. She snatched back her PRB and wriggled out of the room.
If you liked the extract 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.
An Exclusive Woody Cartoon
I am absolutely delighted to present the first in a series of exclusive cartoons created in collaboration with the incredible illustrator David Ell. The Woody Back to School Unit has commissioned several original pieces from Dave and I will be publishing them as they become available.
Dave is a freelance artist residing in Phuket in Thailand. He is available for commissions at lodgy53@yahoo.co.uk and he is very reasonably priced. What I love about his work is that you send him a brief and he runs with it. He picked up every little detail of the inmates clobber and created some great atmospherics of the Woody facility. He is a very quick worker considering the detail of his work and is always very amiable in his communications. All in all creating these exclusive cartoons has been a very pleasant experience.
It is truly amazing to me how a story that would take several thousand words to write can be diluted to just four art panels and be told so eloquently. Congratulations to Dave for his awesome talent.
I think this ‘toon is particularly effective as it incorporates so many aspects of life at the unit … Jojo being shown a red card by the evil commandant of the Secret Sorority of Serial Spankers, Yvonne Godfrey … Jojo performing nose and toes outside the library while she waits to be caned … Yvonne doing her best to make Jojo howl (unsuccessfully of course) … and finally the aftermath, with her chums, Rosemary, Nixdown and Debs all keenly inspecting her poor beleaguered bum.
The cartoons have been created to compliment my books, posts and other associated Woody Back to School Unit projects. Throughout the saga, I have always tried to make the characters consistent and recognizable and as this cartoon series develops we will introduce all the major protagonists based on Dave’s interpretations… so here it is … Woody Toon 1 (just click on it twice to see the full-size image) … Bottoms Up! … RH
Just a 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 liked the cartoon 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.
Piano Stools Make Great Spanking Furniture
I doubt that I am unusual when I confess that I often look at pieces of furniture and find myself contemplating their purchase based on their potential as venues for spankings rather than their suitability for their original design. Piano stools are a particular obsession as is apparent from today’s extract from the soon to be published Volume 07 – And Then He Kissed Her. Go figure … but kick back and enjoy, its Friday night … Bottoms Up … RH.
In the twelve months that had elapsed since the showdown in the Great Hall Ms Whitton’s loathing of Deborah had not diminished one iota. Although she showed a little more restraint in her persecution of Debs, visits to the music room were never pleasant. For weeks Ms Whitton would give Debs the cold-shoulder and completely ignore her and then suddenly out of the blue she would send her to stand in the corner for no reason at all. During one period Debs didn’t even make it to her seat for three consecutive tutorials, spending the full ninety minutes facing the wall with her hands on her head. It was extremely tiresome and Deborah occasionally retaliated. She earned herself a public flogging for letting down all four tires of Ms Whitton’s car.
Inevitably the Music Dame could not completely resist the temptation to take her violin bow to Debs bumbags. On the last lesson before the unit broke up for Xmas furlough she had fabricated an excuse to beat Deborah and to “give her something to remember me by over the holidays”.
As usual the cause of Deborah’s latest encounter with the violin bow was somewhat dubious. When Debs had arrived at the music room Ms Whitton had barreled down upon her accusing her that the knot of her tie had slipped and her top button was inappropriately exposed. Debs reached up to correct the knot of her tie fully expecting to be issued with a misconduct mark. To her astonishment Ms Whitton slapped her hand away and thrust a yellow card in her face calling her a tramp. It was a harsh call and Debs couldn’t help herself; she rolled her eyes and curled her lip in contempt. That was enough for Ms Whitton.
“Good grief,” she screamed at Debs. “I have never seen such insolence young lady. Go and put down your satchel, remove your blazer and fetch me the Morton Special.”
Deborah spread herself out across the piano stool. It was 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 was exactly twelve inches in breadth. The Woody Wags often laughed 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.
Debs shifted her tummy forward across the padded seat until she felt as if her body was equilaterally organized. She stretched out her arms and legs until only her fingers and toes touched the wood floor of the slightly raised wooden stage. She lowered her head between her outstretched arms and watched her tie dangle forward and her hair cascade towards the floor. She took a deep breath and waited for the latest episode of the vendetta to slowly unfold.
Ms Whitton slipped an original copy of a performance of Django Reinhardt during his Quintette du Hot Club de France phase out of its LP cover and placed it on the vintage phonograph. She carefully placed the needle down and waited for the music to fill the room. She retrieved the violin bow from the top of the piano and waved it in the air, conducting the music. The occupants of the room watched her as she worked herself into a frenzied state, her arms waving, eyes closed, head nodding and her feet tapping. All the while Debs lay sprawled across the stool with her skirt turned back and her bumbags sitting up proud.
Once she had reached an appropriate level of critical spiritual mass Ms Whitton stepped onto the small stage. Without any preparation she glanced downwards and slashed the violin bow across the tautened bumbags with inspired accuracy.
The stiffness of the bow and the low sling of the bench were a lethal combination and the bow sliced across Deborah’s arse with extreme prejudice.
Deborah squeezed her eyes shut and balled her fists until they ached, but her body barely twitched. She breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth. She concentrated on staying in a full drape. Under no circumstances was she going to give Ms Whitton any indication that she was hurting her.
Deborah waited for the second stroke to arrive. She tried not to be distracted by the sound of Django’s unique guitar artistry. She had to stay focused. Debs Morton had sworn a year ago that she would never again allow herself to be subjugated by the evil spirited Music Dame. She gritted her teeth and dug deep into her resolve.
Even by the Music Dame’s bizarre standards her theatrics were extraordinary. The Wacky Whackster, as she was dubbed by the Woody Wags, was waving her arms in the air and spinning like a dervish. She appeared to have fallen into a trance and to have forgotten Deborah. Poor Debs was left sprawled across the stool for over ninety seconds with her bumbags higher than her head before the violin bow exploded off her bumbags for a second time. At this rate it was going to be the longest beating in history.
Deborah’s heart was pounding. The protracted interlude between each stroke was making it extremely difficult for her to prepare herself. Canings generally settled into a predictable rhythm. The anatomy of whops was a widely debated subject amongst the facilities inmates. It was generally agreed that the timing between each stroke was a critical ingredient. In her voluminous writings on the subject of whops Deborah advocates what she calls the ‘Queensgate Technique.’
“After I entered the third form I was destined never to get less than six,” she recalls. “The President of Posh at that time was a super gal named Alison Jones, who was extraordinarily talented with the popping stick. She perfected the five-minute caning, a technique that she handed down to Pauline Gascoigne and Christy Cranfield.”
“First there was the sixty second set-up where you were in position over the arm of the popping seat with your skirt neatly turned back. This might not seem long but I can assure you a lot goes through your mind when you’re head down, arse up for sixty seconds. Next came the whops. One every thirty seconds, which gave you sufficient time to experience the full cycle of each stroke. Finally we were given another sixty seconds to gather ourselves before being given the release command. It was an extremely practical approach to caning and very fair on the recipient. We knew exactly what to expect and there were no surprises.”
The third stroke took Deborah by surprise; she was desperately trying to look back between the legs of the stool to gauge Ms Whitton’s approach but the Music Dame remained outside of her field of vision.
The only warning she got was the whistle of the bow cutting through the air, leaving her only milliseconds to brace herself. The pain imploded through her rear end and the sound of the bow slicing down across tautened gossamer echoed in her ears.
Ms Whitton stepped back. The track on the LP had changed and she was waving her arms slowly, picking up the new rhythms. She stared down at Deborah’s tightly stretched bumbags with a demented gleam in her eyes. If anything her loathing of Debs had increased since the showdown in the Great Hall. Deborah’s defiance of her and her unbridled contempt sent the Music Dame into paroxysms of ire. She raised the bow high in the air and slashed it downwards.
Deborah Morton remained defiantly stretched out across the piano stool, her body as still as a statue as the violin bow exploded off her bumbags.
Ms Whitton was determined to beat Debs bandy and Debs was equally determined to not give the Music Dame the satisfaction of showing her that she was actually causing her considerable distress.
Debs lay panting across the stool as Ms Whitton waved her arms and prepared herself for the closer. It had been an extremely prolonged beating. Deborah had been folded over the piano stool for almost ten minutes but she sensed her ordeal was drawing to a close. With incredible bravado Debs pushed her bottom up in the air and tempted her nemesis to give it her best shot.
It was an extraordinary whop by any standards and seemed designed to cut poor Deborah in two. Somehow, with white-knuckled determination, Debs Morton managed to refrain from showing any indication of the excruciating pain that was flooding through her body and seemed to have transformed her blood into molten lava. She kept her head buried between her arms so Ms Whitton would not see her face twisted and contorted in agony and anguish.
Even after she was given the release command it was some time before Debs could bring herself to push herself up from the stool. She hobbled very slowly back to her desk to retrieve her punishment record book so that the thrashing could be post-processed. It almost came as a relief when Ms Whitton instructed her to spend the remainder of the lecture standing on her chair with her hands on her head.
If you liked the extract 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.
A Spanking Good Life
Once again the Woody Back to School Unit is pleased to present an exclusive post from My Beloved Jojo … so without further ado HEEEEEEEEEEEERE’s JOJO!
I know that a lot of people think that if you are in a relationship like mine and RH, that it is an all day long non-stop frenzied spankfest.
LOL … Spankfest!! Isn’t that a great word? It sounds like an annual festival. Wow … we could run with that, but I digress. (I will pass on that idea to RH however, he could probably take it to the heights that I never could.)
Anyway, our life is pretty normal. I mean even by vanilla standards. I don’t wear clobber 24/7 nor do we participate in any kind of heavy S & M stuff. We don’t have a safe word…don’t need one mostly because we know each other so well. RH knows how far I can go, when I am in the zone (Whopsville!), when I am not. He knows when the cane is appropriate (never while drinking), when the good ole reform school strap is better, or just when what I need is a damn good old fashioned otk hand spanking.
So when I say we have a pretty normal life, I mean that it really isn’t anything dramatic … it’s just two people perfectly suited to one another. No big deal. The thing that makes it so ideal, and probably the envy of a lot of spankos who are not in a relationship, or are in one with a vanilla person, is that the underlying dialogue of our relationship is that we are in the zone…together. It would be the same thing if we were two people who liked to, oh I don’t know, dress up in bunny suits. (Hey some people do this, it’s their thing and who are we to judge?) I doubt that they wear bunny suits all day every day, but the special bond that two bunny suiter’s share would be very special to them. They could smile at each other and make subtle bunny references and be happy knowing that they GET each other.
So, the point of all this is this… we are pretty darn lucky. We have found our ideal soul mates in each other. Do we have ups and downs just like everyone else does? Of course! Which proves my point that you should never settle for vanilla because life is gonna be hard anyway, why not meet it head on with someone who really GETS you? Even if you wear a bunny suit.
Ok enough philosophizing… in my next posts we are gonna get down and dirty… I am going to take you through all the different utensils we use from MY perspective! Also I would like to tell you about some of the different things we do to keep life interesting (can you say Spankopoly??)!!
Hmm…I may have to do some intensive research. You know, just to refresh the ole memory.
Oh yeah.
Till next time, as RH says, Bottoms Up!!
A Vanilla Surprise – Woodys Gains Five-Star Champagne and Caviar Recognition
I know that I am not the first to observe the unusual searches that bring unsuspecting members of the Great Unwashed to our sites. I was, however, intrigued by noticing that the search ‘regal smoked salmon and caviar canapés’ should yield a trip to the Woody Back to School Unit. However, I did a little digging and there, lo and behold, languishing proudly in the deep heartlands of Google, amongst adverts for glamorous wedding receptions at the Ritz Carlton and exotic getaways to St Barts, was little old Woodys!
Now RH is as partial as the next chap to a little browsing in pursuit of spanking material but generally after perusing the first five pages of results I give up and change my search. What intrigued me was that this reference did not appear until more than fifty pages of results, which is some pretty persistent browsing in my humble opinion. Even more intriguingly was that according to the WordPress stats advisor the visitor (or visitors) has returned five times using the same search.
Of course I have no way of knowing whether it was the bride or groom, or anybody else from the wedding planning committee that stumbled upon the eclectic writings of R Humphries and Jojo … but welcome anyway and I truly encourage y’all to make sure that there are comfortably cushioned chairs available at your reception. Bottoms Up and a very happy and fruitful marriage to whoever you are.
If you 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.
A Lunchtime Licking
No the title does not refer to sneaking out of the office for frunch. In this extract from Volume 2 – Operation Scorched Arse (available from the Woodettes Storefront), Miss Rosemary Booker has an unfortunate run-in with the Commandant of the Secret Sorority of Serial Spankers, the cruel and malicious Yvonne Godfrey.
Btw My Beloved Jojo is swanking about the place this morning as her guest post actually attracted a rather nice comment, (thanks for that Laurent from Le journal de la fessée , Jojo was very flattered). RH has posted over a hundred blogs and has only ever received a handful of comments, oh well. Also, by remarkable coincidence Jojo’s blog also attracted several more book sales than the average day so perhaps I should promote her to work as my publicist.
Jojo’s guest post, The Last Train to Whopsville, is linked over in the sidebar in her special guest box.
Speaking of work RH is under the cosh to meet a deadline so gotta run … it’s Sunday so kick back and enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH
Rosemary Booker blushed ruefully as the Duty Monitor approached. She knew she was bang to rights and had no doubt that Yvonne Godfrey would have no hesitation in making the most out of the situation.
“I saw that Booker,” Yvonne snapped, “In a hurry for lunch are you?”
“N..N..No… Well not really Godfrey, I’m sorry, I can go to the back of the queue if you want,” Rosemary stammered.
“Oh sorry are we Booker?” Yvonne sneered. “You push in line bold as brass and now you’re sorry.”
Rosemary reddened slightly.
“You see the gal at the end of the line, Booker?”
Rosemary nodded.
“Well you go outside and wait in the corridor and when that gal is sitting down I’m going to come and have a few words with you.” With a sneer on her face Yvonne Godfrey reached into her pocket and theatrically produced her red card. There was a gasp in the hall. Queue jumping traditionally attracted a yellow card at worst. Most prefects would have let her off with a verbal warning.
“Booker, Phase 5,” she announced loudly. “Six of the best for jumping line. Nose and toes in the corridor until I have time to deal with you.”
With bowed head and a heavy tread Rosemary trudged out of the hall and into the corridor. Some of the gals in line gave her sympathetic grins but Rosemary was in no mood to return them. It was a long wait before the last gal had finally collected her lunch tray and made her way to her seat giving Rosemary plenty of time to ruminate on her latest misfortune.
Like most inmates of the facility Rosemary despised Yvonne Godfrey and had viewed her promotion to a member of the Elite with trepidation. Rosemary watched disconsolately as Yvonne entered the corridor. She had an uncomfortable feeling that she was about to get a humiliating scolding from the new prefect. Doubtless it would be delivered at one hundred decibels so everybody could hear.
However, Rosemary Booker was in for an even more unpleasant shock.
Yvonne Godfrey grinned wolfishly at Rosemary. “Hungry are we, Booker? Fancy some lunch now you’ve waited so long?”
“Oh yes, Godfrey, shall I cut along then?” Rosemary said hurriedly. Rosie couldn’t believe her luck. Godders was letting her off.
Yvonne Godfrey continued to smile. “Yes Booker, you can cut along.” Rosemary breathed a sigh of relief and started towards the door.
“But not just yet, Booker,” Yvonne grinned, “I think we’d better have those whops first, wouldn’t you agree.”
Rosemary’s glared at Yvonne. “Alright, Godfrey,” she said quietly, “I know you want to break your duck so why don’t we go up to the library and get it over with.”
“That’s the spirit Booker,” Yvonne smiled, “but you’re hungry and it seems such a waste of time traipsing all the way to the library, why don’t we just deal with this here and now. Why don’t you just go over there by the door and touch your toes?”
Rosemary stared at the prefect incredulously. “Whadaya you mean?” she managed to stutter.
“I would have thought it was quite clear, Booker,” Yvonne said nonchalantly, “I want you to go over to the door, to bend over and to touch your toes.”
Rosemary stared from the prefect to the open doorway, her mouth open in disbelief. It was unthinkable. To be caned in the open doorway would mean every gal in the lunch hall would hear.
Rosemary glared at Yvonne. “Yeah rock on Godders,” she snarled.
“Go over to the door, bend over, touch them and get that big fat arse in the air where I can see it! Do I make myself clear, Booker, or do I need to call Ivan to hold you down?”
Rosemary Booker looked at Godders contemptuously.
“You won’t need to hold me down, you bitch,” she hissed. “Lay it on thick as you like. You know it’s only whops.”
Rosemary Booker was the quietest member of the Famous Four. She was modestly studious, competently athletic and enjoyed playing modest parts in plays and productions. However, Rosemary excelled in an area that bemused even her closest chums. Her bum appeared impervious to pain. She seemed genuinely bemused after her first caning, “I don’t understand what the fuss is about,” she wondered, “it’s only whops.”
Rosemary turned and walked towards the doors of the cafeteria. Slowly she leant forward and reached down until her fingers rested on the tips of her pointed shoes. She waited while Yvonne rearranged her dress, turning back her skirt, exposing an enviable expanse of navy blue gossamer. Rosemary stared at a spot of wooden floor and tried her best to compose herself before the cane lashed across her drum tight bumbags. It was a scorcher, but Rosemary merely shifted her weight a little and then wriggled back into position.
Yvonne Godfrey was enjoying herself. After six years as an inmate of the Back to School unit she had always dreamed of the day when she would finally assume the mantel of a member of the Elite. It had always struck Yvonne Godfrey that being on the end other than the receiving end of the cane would be very good duty indeed.
For several years Yvonne had been making covert plans with Patty Hodge and Katie Beck that once she was finally installed in the Elite she would establish the most heinous incarnation of the Secret Sorority of Serial Spankers in the units history. Yvonne Godfrey would act as Commandant of the fearsome SS and would enjoy the full protection of the Radical Right. Yvonne was delighted that she was able to open her open her whop account across the trophy bumbags of one of the unit’s most beloved legends. She was certain that Patty would approve.
Yvonne stared at the sea of gossamer with a glint of relish in her eye. She whipped the cane down and grinned as it sent the full moons wiggling and jiggling. She stepped in again and let loose another scorcher. She was disappointed that Rosemary wasn’t showing some reaction by now; she would dearly enjoy observing the unfortunate inmate demonstrate her discomfort.
Down below Rosemary was standing her ground stoically. Despite Godders best efforts Rosie was unperturbed by the assault on her bumbags except for the ignominy of being punished so publicly.
Yvonne Godfrey gripped the cane tightly and stepped in for the fifth time. She stooped down and lashed the cane on the soft sulcus of the voluptuous orbs. For the first time Rosemary hissed with consternation. Even the apparently whop-insensate Rosie was not completely insensitive to low-riders.
Although the delivery of low-riders was officially frowned upon and discouraged, it was generally accepted that an occasional miss-hit was going to occur in the cut and thrust of a whopping. Yvonne grinned to herself, the slice across the sulcus had been far from a miss-hit, she had clinically taken aim and fired off a perfect shot, right on the money.
As Yvonne took aim, both gals were fully aware they were about to enter the final battle of wills. Rosemary Booker, a veteran with over a hundred canings already under her skirt, knew that the last stroke would be the hottest, ripest, spiciest stripe of six sizzling strokes. Yvonne Godfrey knew that it was her last chance to make Rosemary squeal.
The cane cut across Rosemary’s bumbags with a crack that echoed around the lunch hall. Every gal in the hall winced. Rosemary blinked.
For a moment she didn’t move then slowly she rose to her feet. She pushed her skirt down and turned silently to face her nemesis. The two gals eyes met and to Yvonne’s chagrin Rosemary smiled at her.
Yvonne stood, smoking rod in hand, bitterly disappointed not to have gotten more reaction out of her victim. Still, she consoled herself, Rosemary was only the first gal she had licked so far and there would be plenty more fish to fry.
“Get your fat arse in there and get some lunch, Booker,” she said unpleasantly. “When you’ve finished bring me your punishment book so we can deal with the post-processing. You can tell me how it was.”
Rosemary glared at Yvonne. “It was barely warm, that’s how it was,” she said tartly. “If that’s the best you’ve got to dish out then we don’t have anything to worry about.”
Yvonne just grinned. “You know and I know that’s not true. Why don’t you go and sit down and see how you enjoy that low-rider rubbing against the chair.”
Rosemary snorted disparagingly and stomped back into the cafeteria.
“Fucking bitch,” groaned Rosemary as she took her place next to her chums. “That low-rider was intentional.”
Jojo patted Rosie’s hand sympathetically.
“She’s mean and rotten to the core,” Nixdown snorted. “You should have hacked her in the shins. These Radical Revisions are beginning to give me the pip.”
“I think we’re only just seeing the tip of the iceberg,” predicted Jojo ominously.
If you enjoyed the extract and you 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.
A Spanking or Your Job!
The ever affable and entertaining Dante D’Amore over at Dante’s Paradiso posted a story from USA Today regarding a Tennessee business-man who required his young female personnel to subject themselves to spankings for employment infractions as an alternative to being given the proverbial heave-ho. Now, as a by-the-by, despite the potential for sounding politically incorrect, RH regularly finds himself forced to act as Solomon in internal human resource squabbles where by law I am obliged to mediate in accordance with standards established by the deranged folk otherwise known as Human Resources. In many of these cases it is patently obvious that a damn good spanking would resolve the matter rather more expediently than the tiresome paperwork, warnings and probations that generally result from these tribunals.
As Grand Master of the Woody Back to School Unit Mr Humphries is in the enviable position of having sole responsibility and governance over disciplinary matters and has no time for such nonsense when it comes to dealing with malicious members of his staff.
In this extract, from the soon to be published Volume 17 – Woodys Under Fire, the units most disagreeable members of the Brass, Patty Hodge, Katie Beck and the Wart, find themselves subjected to some appropriate justice meted out Mr Humphries style. It’s the weekend … so pour a glass of wine, open a pallet of strawberries and kick back and enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH.
Patricia Hodge almost laughed out loud. She couldn’t believe her luck. She leaned forward across the desk. “Go and change into clobber Brooks and meet me back here in fifteen minutes,” she hissed menacingly. “I’m going to give you the thrashing of your life.”
Claire Brooks pushed back her chair and trudged despondently towards the door of the lecture room. She couldn’t believe her own stupidity. During the past few weeks Claire had resolved to control her unfortunate tendency of opening her mouth before engaging her brain. She held the lamentable record of being the first Old Gal ever to appear in the top ten of the Top of the Whops rankings, but she had figured that with her Caned Laughter revue as an outlet for her pithy wit she should be able to curb her spontaneous outbursts in the lecture rooms. However, it had only taken a momentary lapse of self-control and Claire was heading for the door.
Claire buttoned her blouse and knotted her tie. She reached into the closet and pulled out her gymslip. She pulled the garment over her head, fastened the buttons on the shoulders of the bib and then tied her sash around her waist. She stared at herself in the mirror and sighed. Claire Brooks pulled on her blazer and with a heavy tread she set off for her appointment with Ms Hodge.
Patty Hodge was rubbing her hands with glee while she waited for Claire to return to the lecture room. The bell indicating the end of the day’s formal curriculum had already rung and she had dismissed the other Old Gals.
“Katie, get your arse down to the Old Gal chamber,” she barked into her cell phone and then speed dialed the Warts number.
Claire Brooks was immediately suspicious when she returned to the lecture room and found the furniture had been rearranged. The desks and chairs had been moved to the sides of the room, leaving a large open area in the center. She was also dismayed to find herself unexpectedly confronted by the cruel triumvirate of Patty Hodge, Katie Beck and the Wart.
Claire Brooks did not generally suffer from a nervous disposition but as she had trudged through the corridors her tummy had been filled with butterflies. Claire was well aware that she was the target of one of Patty’s dangerous obsessions.
Patty had never forgiven her for the humiliating dangling she had been forced to endure from Lady Victoria Brompton after her plans to have Claire stood down from the Elite had back-fired.
Prudently Claire had done her best to keep a good distance between her bumbags and Patty’s customized wye-tipped canes. She could have kicked herself for her stupidity and she had an uneasy premonition that Patty was about to make life extremely unpleasant for her.
Patty Hodge intended to take the opportunity to subject Claire to a prolonged and intense sweating session. She smiled smugly to herself, the timing was perfect. At the end of lectures each day Ms Scott put the CCTV system into back-up mode and burned DVD’s for the archive. Although the surveillance system in the rest of the facility remained in operation Patricia Hodge was safely ensconced in a black hole.
Patty, Katie and the Wart stood in the center of the room. Ms Hodge wiggled her finger at Claire, beckoning her to approach. Unenthusiastically the Old Gal closed the door and stepped towards them. Claire Brooks was quite a tall gal but Ms Hodge towered over her. As soon as Claire was within reach Patty grabbed her by the tie, yanking her forward and up onto her tiptoes. Patty Hodge stuck her face up close and started downloading a lexicon of malice at the top of her lungs. Claire was gasping for breath but was powerless to defend herself as Katie Beck had come from the rear and pinned her arms behind her back.
Just when Claire looked like she might pass out from lack of oxygen Patty released her. Claire fell back on her heels, panting for air. Patricia Hodge jabbed her in the chest bone with her long finger.
“I hear you’ve been doing impressions of me,” screamed Ms Hodge. “You’re a real hoot I’m told.”
As she managed to breathe a little easier Claire tried to shrug herself free from Katie. Katie just chuckled and gave her a Chinese burn. Patty Hodge jabbed her in the chest several times.
“I like a laugh,” screamed Patty. “Why don’t you show us your clever little imitations so we can all have a good chuckle?”
Claire felt her face turn crimson. She had anticipated that Ms Hodge would take the opportunity to put her through the wringer but even by Patty’s standards the verbal and physical bombardment was brutal.
“Well Miss Smarty Pants? I’m waiting!” yelled Ms Hodge and proceeded to jab Claire in the chest several times.
Claire’s mind was racing. Her impressions of Patty, Katie and the Wart were far from flattering and she had no intention of incriminating herself by giving them a rendition.
“I also heard you were horsed,” said Ms Hodge spitefully. “What do you think Katie, should we horse her?”
Claire gaped. Katie chuckled and the Wart laughed out loud.
“Wouldn’t that be a sight?” cackled Katie.
The memory of the humiliation of being straddled across the back of a prefect while her bare backside was whipped with a birch came flooding back. Claire Brooks made a snap decision. She kicked her heel back hard catching Katie Beck on the shin.
“Yow!” yelped Katie and she released her hold on Claire’s arms to clasp her wound. Claire elbowed Ms Hodge under her rib cage and bolted for the door. Ms Wharton made a grab for her but Claire was too quick. She grabbed at the door handle and streaked into the corridor, stretching her long legs and racing away from her pursuers.
“Come back here!” yelled Patty Hodge but Claire continued to run.
Claire took the stairs two at a time, her heart pounding and her mind racing. There was nothing else for it, she decided, she would have to seek the ultimate sanctuary and take her chances.
“Claire?” said the Grand Master, “are you alright?”
Claire had burst panting into the Grand Master’s office without waiting for him to answer her knock on the door.
“I’m sorry to bother you, sir,” she panted, “but I have a real problem.”
“Of course I wasn’t going to horse her,” Ms Hodge assured the Grand Master.
“Then why did you invite Katie and Ms Wharton down to the lecture room?” asked Mr Humphries.
Ms Hodge shrugged. “They’re both pretty pissed at hearing about her impressions,” she told him. “I wanted for them to see them for themselves.”
“And why did you move the furniture?”
“I intended to give her a running bender,” replied Ms Hodge. “I’m sick of her stupid wise cracks and I wanted to give her a really good thrashing to teach her a lesson she wouldn’t forget.”
“But you did threaten to have her horsed?”
“Well, yes, in a manner of speaking, but I was just sweating her,” Ms Hodge said emphatically. “Brooks took it the wrong way and made a bolt for it. She kicked Katie in the shins and elbowed me in the ribs.”
Mr Humphries stared at Ms Hodge. Claire had made no bones about the fact she had kicked Katie and poked Ms Hodge.
“I just couldn’t bear the thought of being hauled over Katie’s back just so they could get their jollies,” she’d told him. “I know I’m due a thrashing but I’m begging you sir, don’t let them horse me.”
Patricia Hodge was sweating bullets. Mr Humphries had called Ms Scott on her cell phone and she was on her way to his study carrying the DVD of the day’s activity in the Old Gal lecture room.
“Let’s see what we’ve got,” said the Grand Master picking up the remote control. He began to fast forward. “What time did you stop recording?” he asked Suzy Scott.
Suzy tapped on her mobile communications center. “About four fifteen. I noticed Frankie Reese getting a late caning so I let the system run. I wasn’t actually watching the Old Gal room but the tape was still running.”
Ms Hodge’s heart was in her mouth.
The Grand Master stopped the tape at the incident when Claire was sent out of the room to change into clobber. He watched the incident several times without passing comment then let the disc run.
After Claire had left the room the lecture had proceeded as normal. When the buzzer rang to signal the end of the days curriculum Ms Hodge had dismissed Lady Vix, Rachel Cox and Mandy San Pierre and immediately got on her cell phone. Mr Humphries listened to Patty summonsing Katie and the Wart to join her.
“Help me move the furniture,” she told them when they arrived. “We’re going to deal with Brooks so that she’ll never make fun of us again.”
“What have you got in mind?” asked Katie nervously.
“We’re going to horse the little bitch,” grinned Ms Hodge.
“Are you fucking barking?” squealed Katie incredulously. “What the fuck do you think the Grand Master will do when we’re caught on candid fucking camera?”
“He’ll never know,” said Ms Hodge gleefully. “We’re in a black hole!”
Ms Hodge was looking agitated. Mr Humphries was continuing to watch the recording. Claire was entering the room and approaching the group of women. He watched as Patty reached out and grabbed Claire by the tie and yanked her forward and he listened to the vile diatribe being screamed into her face until the recording shut off.
Suzy Scott looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry Grand Master,” she apologized. “I should have checked but when Frankie was finished being post-processed I shut the system down.”
Mr Humphries shrugged. “No problem, I’ve seen quite enough.” He turned his attention to Ms Hodge. “Perhaps you would like to explain yourself,” he drawled.
“This ain’t fair,” wailed Katie. “Look at the recording; she was going to make us do it.”
“I was just an observer,” objected the Wart. “I would have stopped her if she’d tried to go through with it.”
Patty glowered at her two cohorts.
“You have your options,” said Mr Humphries firmly. “If I have not received your letters of resignation in the morning we shall proceed in the manner I have described.”
“It’s not my fault,” growled Patty Hodge. “How was I supposed to know snoopy Suzy was still running the cameras?”
Katie held her head in hands. “This is another fine mess that you’ve got me into,” she groaned. “What am I going to do?”
“I’m resigning,” growled the Wart. “This is the last straw. I’m packing my bags and calling a cab.”
“Yeah, rock on Warty,” said Patty Hodge cynically.
The three doyens of the Radical Right were weeping into their tequila in the saloon bar of the Bunch of Grapes.
The options that Mr Humphries had outlined were simply unthinkable. Nonetheless, they all knew that scribing letters of resignation was not a route that any of them were likely to choose.
“It’s not fair,” complained Katie. “You should be brought before a disciplinary tribunal,” she told Patty. “You should be made to pay for your ridiculous conduct.”
“And who’s going to chair it?” sneered Patty. “You, you little squirt?”
“Shquirt, shquirt, shlittle shquirt,” babbled the Wart.
Katie glowered at Patty.
Patricia Hodge’s face burned with indignation. She had her arms wrapped around Katie Beck’s shoulders and her legs around her waist. Katie was slowly leaning forward, setting her feet to balance the weight of her burden. Ms Wharton stepped forward and took a tight grip on Patty’s wrists, pulling her arms forward.
Patty’s chin was resting on Katie’s left shoulder; her gymslip had been folded back and tucked into her sash and her bumbags were dangling from her right ankle. Mr Humphries was tapping a senior super cane down across her naked behind.
Katie Beck was sweating profusely. Patty’s legs were wrapped around Katie’s waist and she had been kicked in the stomach several times as the cane had sliced across Patty’s backside. Katie was concerned that she might tumble over as Patty Hodge writhed on her back.
The Woody gals watched in fascination. They had figured that during their sentences they had been forced to endure every form of indignity imaginable. Until Claire Brooks had recalled being horsed while she was at boarding school nobody had even heard of the practice. Now they were witnessing a real life demonstration.
Under normal circumstances the harsh and ignominious nature of the punishment would have been viewed by the inmates with some distaste. However, witnessing Patty and her cronies suffering retribution for their foiled attempt to horse Claire filled the Woody gals with glee.
“You have to admit that this is quite bizarre,” commented Jojo.
“It was quite fashionable between the wars,” Nix told her. “I found a bunch of references on the net.”
“Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come back into fashion,” groaned Rosemary.
“I don’t know,” breathed Nixdown, “it might be quite sexy under the right circumstances.”
Nix’s chums shook their heads in disbelief.
Patty Hodge was feeling quite bilious. The humiliation of being prostrated across Katie’s stooped back, coupled with the ignominy of being thrashed on her bare bum in front of the assembled inmates was overwhelming. She let out a hiss of pain as the cane seared her bum for the sixth and final time.
Due to the technical difficulties associated with horsing Mr Humphries had decided to limit the punishments to six strokes. He figured that the physical stripes of the cane would be the least of their worries.
“You may dismount and rearrange your clobber Ms Hodge,” he said gruffly. “Ms Wharton, you’re next,” he said pointing the cane at the GeoDame.
Preparing Ms Wharton for her whopping was not proving simple. She was not an athletic person and she had difficulty mounting herself up onto Patty Hodge’s back. After several abortive attempts the Wart managed to get up, clinging desperately around Ms Hodge’s neck and waist. Patty nearly buckled under the weight but slowly she bent forward. Katie stepped up and took the Wart’s wrists and stretched out her arms.
Ms Wharton felt the cane tapping down and she seethed with indignation.
The Woody gals were enjoying the show. There wasn’t a single gal in the hall whose bumbags hadn’t been cut to tatters by the Wart’s cane at one time or another. The sight of her getting a bare bender in such an ignominious manner was truly exhilarating.
The horsing of Katie Beck was an even more inelegant and undignified affair. Ms Wharton proved incapable of supporting Katie and the unit matron was forced to dismount twice. After three strokes Mr Humphries instructed Ms Hodge to take Katie up on her back. The inmates were considerably amused by the spectacle of the three most hated members of the facilities staff undergoing a lesson in total humiliation.
By the time their ordeal was complete Patty, Katie and the Wart looked thoroughly cowed and just stared down at the floor. Although each of them had received considerably more strokes on previous occasions that they had been punished, six of the very best from the Grand Master was still very tough duty. They were stiff-legged and clearly in discomfort as they trudged off the stage.
If enjoyed the extract and you 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.
The Tails of Two Sisters – A Legendary Spank-off
During the Great Woody Spank-off one of the legendary bouts is between the original über-minx Cat Cassidy and her sister the certifiably barking Cassie Cassy.
The bout occurs on Leather Saturday and the sisters are confronted with the prospect of having their bottoms blistered with a two-tailed leather tawse, a leather ping-pong paddle, and the awe-inspiring Reform School Strap.
Read on to see who will prevail in this epic contest of sisterly pride.
The Great Spank-off spans several books of the Woody Back to School Unit saga and this extract comes from the soon to be published Volume 9 – The Spank-off.
It’s Sunday so take a load-off, kick back, pour a glass of wine and enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH.
Cathryn Cassidy was pondering the wisdom of having spent the afternoon getting laid by her boyfriend Mark. She was watching her sister Cassie splayed out across the Grand Master’s lap getting her bum warmed with the two-tailed tawse and it struck her that post coital bliss was not necessarily an appropriate precursor to a long night of serious bum burning.
The matching of the two Cassidy sisters had resulted in a week of friendly sibling rivalry. Since her victory over Ginger Beckett Cassie Cassy was back to her normal cheerful self.
“I proved that I can take a whopping and keep on bopping,” she proudly told Jojo and Nix.
Cathryn had indulged her younger sister but had playfully warned her that if she got too cocky she was perfectly within her rights to take Cassie up to the library and give her a damn good licking.
The Bounder had made Cathryn the marginal favorite to win but nobody doubted that Cassie would give her a run for her money.
Cassandra Cassidy could take six with the tawse standing on her head. She lay patiently across the Grand Master’s lap while he slapped the tawse down then pushed herself up with a grin on her face. Cathryn sighed and replaced her sister. Cat was having difficulty focusing on the job at hand, her mind kept wandering back to the delicious memory of Mark forcing her down over the kitchen table and penetrating her from behind. She was rudely awakened from her daydream by the crisp thwack of the tawse arriving to enliven her nerve endings. Cathryn gritted her teeth and resolved to concentrate. She was confident that she could outlast her sister but she was acutely aware that Cassie was no pushover. She focused on the floor of the wooden stage and braced herself.
Cassie slithered her chest across the big desk and stretched out. A few weeks earlier Cassie had made the acquaintance of the Reform School Strap and had been extremely impressed. She concentrated on keeping her breathing even and repeated the Woody mantra, ‘it’s only whops’, over and over in her head.
The Grand Master delivered the six strokes of the strap in quick succession. Impressively Cassie Cassy held fast and took lash after lash unflinchingly, showing no signs of discomfort when she arose.
Cassie straightened her clobber and turned and winked at her sister.
The first tawsing had served as an adequate reminder to Cathryn that in order to earn victory she would need to dismiss all thoughts of the earlier bend over touch your toes, rumpy pumpy up it goes, from her mind. She stretched her long legged body out across the desk and put her well-formed backside up prominently.
Like her sister Cathryn was familiar with the effects of the Reform School Strap and was confident that she could absorb the session with ease. However she couldn’t help noticing that Mr Humphries was laying it on pretty thick and two of the strokes caused her to involuntarily crook her leg at the knee and kick back in consternation.
When she stood up she had a mild scowl on her face. Without asking she reached up and unfastened the top button of her blouse and loosened her tie, then crossed the stage to where her blazer had been hung up, dug into the pocket, pulled out a cigarette and lit it.
Mr Humphries chuckled, “I’m not sure that’s allowed under competition conditions Cathryn,” he laughed.
Cat shrugged, “Oh who gives a fuck?” she drawled, “my arse hurts.” The audience clapped their hands and hooted with laughter.
Mr Humphries stared at Cathryn thoughtfully but said nothing, instead turning to Cassie and indicating for her to approach.
Cassandra Cassidy had a reputation for giggling after she had been beaten, but the one occasion when she hadn’t giggled was following her introduction to the Grand Master’s leather paddle. With a sense of foreboding she laid herself out across Mr Humphries’s lap.
The Grand Master lowered the younger Cassidy sister across his lap, positioning her so that her bottom was perched up nicely. He took his time rearranging her clothing, and then gently rubbed the paddle over her naked flesh in a slow circular motion.
Cassie had her arms spread out to shoulder width, the palms of her hands flat against the wooden stage, her head was tucked in between her arms and her long blond ponytail trailed down to the floor.
The paddle slapped down, leaving its trademark red hot spot on the crown of her right buttock. Cassie blinked but managed to remain still. She breathed a small sigh of relief. It was the first stroke that she always dreaded, once that was over with she was better able to prepare herself, knowing exactly what to expect.
The Grand Master proceeded to worry the same spot with quick, hard slaps, but despite the deep concentration of pain in her right cheek Cassie stayed perfectly still, staring fixedly down at the floor of the stage and focusing on absorbing the terrible sting.
The Cassidy sisters were as thick as thieves and Cathryn watched her sister being spanked with a sense of consanguine pride. Cat knew from experience that her sister was a tough cookie as during her term in the Elite, she had occasion to cane her sister on several occasions. Cathryn had earned herself a reputation for her proficiency with the ashplant; always delivering good tight lickings that had made some of the toughest gals hop. However, Cassie had always taken her whops without complaint and had merely grinned and thanked her sister when they were over.
As the two sisters swapped places Cathryn smiled indulgently at Cassie, “You think you’re something don’t ya kiddo?” she chuckled.
Cassie grinned, “Good luck sis.”
Stretched out across the Grand Master’s lap with her bumbags around her ankles, Cathryn Cassidy was keenly aware that she needed a darn sight more than luck if she was to win the bout. She knew from experience that the paddle was capable of making a gal’s eyes water. Cat did her best to stay still but Mr Humphries’s jolly jape of landing all six on the same spot proved too much and she was soon scissoring her legs frantically and writhing in his lap in the vain hope that he may miss. Mr Humphries had her nose to the floor and had no intention of missing; he leathered her arse with expert efficiency.
Cassie Cassy bid a half dozen with the tawse and took another trip across Mr Humphries knee. Her confidence was building; she was far into the zone and felt that she could go on all night. After the sixth stroke she hopped up, beaming cheerfully.
Cat Cassidy blew smoke through her nostrils and stubbed out her cigarette. She took her time, slowly approaching the Grand Master and offering him her wrist and a wry smile. Once she had been lowered into position she stretched out and settled in.
“I’ll stay over and take six more,” Cathryn said through clenched teeth.
The Grand Master looked over at Cassie who nodded her agreement. The Grand Master raised the twin tailed tawse in the air and slashed it downwards.
Cat gritted her teeth. She had managed to take the last six with relatively little movement but as the tawse rebounded from her naked bum to start the new set her legs scissored in agitation.
Mr Humphries spaced the strokes out evenly giving Cat plenty of opportunity to cash in her chips whenever she wanted to. Cat’s long dark hair swished from side to side but she remained steadfastly in position giving no indication she was ready to concede. When the Grand Master helped her to her feet she looked surprisingly fresh and unperturbed.
Cassie Cassy had no intention of throwing the towel in and immediately replaced her sister in the time-honored position. After enduring six hearty cracks it was Cassie’s turn to bid again.
“Oh you little shit,” groaned Cathryn when Cassandra bid six with the paddle. “You really do think you’re something don’t you kiddo!”
The Grand Master worked the left buttock of Cassie’s upturned bum, whap, whap, whapping the sweet spot until she finally began to squirm a little. Cassie determinedly tried to stay still but by the time the sixth slap exploded off her scorched flesh the agitated way her toes were tapping on the wood floor exposed the increasing discomfort she was experiencing. Nonetheless when she pushed herself up she put a brave face on it and winked at her sister.
Cathryn Cassidy was not enthusiastic about offering up her bottom to have her left buttock blistered with the leather paddle so she took her own sweet time in draping her elegant form across Mr Humphries knee. Her heart was pounding and her hands were clammy as she spread herself out. She winced inwardly as she felt the familiar motion of her skirt being slowly turned back, followed by the meticulous lowering of her navy blue bumbags. She gritted her teeth when she felt the cool of the leather slowly circling her flesh. Then WHAP! The paddle landed with full force and the blood rushed to her head as she jerked forward in Mr Humphries’s lap. The second slap tipped her further over so even her long legs no longer reached the ground. Mr Humphries had her round the waist and cracked the paddle down hard. Cathryn was kicking her legs and pummeling the stage with her fists. The pain was so intense that she felt as though lighted candles were burning her flesh. Despite her animated reactions to the fiery impact of the paddle Cathryn had no intention of quitting, she dug into her reserves, gritted her teeth and carried on wriggling and squirming.
Cathryn Cassidy had no intention of bidding the paddle again, she considered the tawse but then decided she had done enough nose to the floor for the moment and proposed six with the Reform School Strap.
Cathryn actually felt quite comfortable bent across the large desk. Her long slender frame was perfectly designed for the position and she found it preferable to being physically held down across Mr Humphries’s lap like a Little Brat. Over the years Cathryn had bent over a lot of desks; ranging from the slope topped desks of the lecture room’s to the large oak desk in the Deputy Grand Dame’s study. At least bending over a good desk she felt supported, her only objection was Mr Humphries’s insistence that her arms limply dangle over the far side instead of letting her fold them on top of the desk and rest her head on them.
Cathryn wriggled her hips and prepared for the onslaught. Mr Humphries raised the strap in the air and brought it down with a volatile thud. The strap landed firmly astride the swollen hot spot that the paddle had raised on each of her cheeks. She gasped with dismay, the pain was simply unendurable, but before she could protest a second swipe tantalized the exact same spots.
Vainly Cathryn crooked her leg in an effort to ward off the strap but it crashed home a third time. That was enough for Cat; the Old Gal leapt to her feet and nimbly removed her backside from the firing line.
“That’s it,” she gasped, “keep that thing away from me, I’m out!”
Cassandra Cassidy felt like the eyes of the whole world were focused on her. She had never doubted that she could outlast her sister and now victory was just four harsh swipes of the strap away. She bent over and braced herself.
The first thwack sent shudders through her whole body but she stayed down. The second made her giddy but she stayed down. Mr Humphries thrashed the strap down again, making Cassie feel nauseous, but she stayed down. The audience watched with baited breath as the ultimate strike snaked through the air, landing against Cassie’s unprotected nates with extreme prejudice and she leapt to her feet. She hissed and she hopped and she flapped her arms but she never rubbed. Her sister rushed to her and hugged her.
“Tell you what kiddo,” she said admiringly, “you really are something!”
If you have enjoyed 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 BUY THE OTHER 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.
Bottoms Up! – Woodys Turns a Hundred
When I started the Woody Back to School Unit page on May 1, 2009 I did not expect that just four months later I would have made 100 posts, to be rapidly approaching welcoming my 50,000th guest, and that I would have successfully published the first five books of my saga with some respectable sales. I’d like to thank all my visitors, especially those from some of the more exotic locales who loyally return to check up on the shenanigans and misadventures of the mega-minxes incarcerated in the austere Woody facility.
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
• London Lad Garth from Behind the Barred Window
• The Infamous Chief at his well-visited Spanking Blog
• 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 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
• Thomas for sharing his Spanking Exploits
• Cutiepie and her Sexy Spankings
• Everybody at the Spanking Bloggers Network
And finally a new blogger who was kind enough to call the Woody Back to School Unit blog Highly Recommended,
• Freddie at Simply Slippering
My thanks to all of you and my sincere apologies for those that I might have missed.
If you have enjoyed the complimentary edition of Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber 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 BUY 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.
You Can’t Beat a Free Spanking Story
Free Spanking Book Week attracted a staggering amount of visitors and the complete Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber from the Woody Back to School Unit saga is now posted in the sidebar for your leisurely enjoyment. Hopefully those of you who have read all seven installments got a little insight into the characters and environment that I have tried to create. (The look on the face of gal number three in this delightful illustration might put you in mind of the devinely debauched Nixdown Nixon … lol).
However, RH is about HTML’d out and is now off to indulge in some private time with My Beloved Jojo.
If you enjoyed Volume 1 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 BUY 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.
Free Spanking Book Week Day 7 – Chapters 24 thru 27
As promised here are the concluding chapters 24 thru 27 of the Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber that The Woody Back to School Unit is making available absolutely free of charge to my visitors (and that’s about enough HTML for one week!).
For those of you who missed the first six installments I have posted them in the sidebar for easy access … enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH
Chapter 24
Bend Over the Horse
The Grand Dame held the door for Deborah and they entered the Assembly Hall. There was a grinding of seats as the inmates rose to acknowledge the arrival of the Grand Dame. Deborah stepped up onto the stage and stood beside the vaulting horse. She clasped her hands in front of her and gazed out over the assembled congregation. The Grand Dame ordered the inmates to take their seats and unhurriedly she asked Penelope Ann Evans to step onto the stage and call registration.
As she passed by Deborah, Penelope Ann threw her a sympathetic glance; Debs winked. The Red-shirt called registration efficiently and when she called Deborah’s name the gal on the stage turned to face her and replied in a voice filled with irony, “Yes, Evans, I’m here.”
Even the Grand Dame grinned at that.
Finally the Red-shirt returned to her place by the wall and the Grand Dame stood up. She moved to the front of the stage and addressed the inmates. She admonished Deborah’s behavior savagely and informed the assembled inmates of her intention to punish Debs extremely soundly. During the speech Deborah was pulling sarcastic faces at the gals who sat before her. They began to chuckle and were immediately silenced by the Grand Dame but when she turned suspiciously to look at her Deborah’s expression was one of stony indifference.
Ms Lawton slipped off her black double-breasted jacket and hung it up. She was wearing a white silk blouse with the collar turned up at the back. She unfastened the cuffs and neatly rolled back her sleeves to below the elbow. Deborah watched with stony-faced resignation. She was keenly aware that in a matter of moments the fireworks were scheduled to begin.
When the Grand Dame turned to collect the long thin senior cane from the table Deborah spotted her chum Rosemary waving crossed fingers from the back of the hall; Deborah winked again. The inmates chuckled behind their hands. If the Grand Dame was aware of Deborah’s performance she chose to ignore it.
She took the long crook-handled cane from the table and turned to face her victim. She held the long thin cane between both hands and flexed it into an arc.
“Bend over the horse,” she instructed.
Deborah turned and faced the vaulting horse. Due to the extra three inches that Katie had raised the saddle Debs had to tiptoe up as she bent forward at the waist. She reached down and gripped the legs on the far side, her hips rested on the top of the horse; she was balanced on the tips of her toes.
The inmates were treated to the sight of Deborah’s bottom, shrouded in the skintight white whopping bags with razor vertical creases, as it sat up proud and defenseless.
The Grand Dame stood to the left of Deborah and placed the cane on the upturned moons and tapped the stick down gently to gauge her distance. The tight gym shorts made Deborah’s slightly plump rump an especially enticing target. She tapped the cane down a second time and then a third.
Deborah closed her eyes tightly.
Satisfied, Ms Lawton pulled her arm back, cocked ready for release. With a look of rapt concentration on her face she swiped the cane downwards with extreme prejudice. The cane sliced through the air with a sharp whistle and rebounded off Deborah’s backside with a resounding crack.
Deborah felt the breath knocked from her and she held onto the legs with a vice-like grip. A line of scalding fire flashed across her tender behind. If the opener was anything to go by Deborah was about to experience an exceptionally painful few minutes.
The seasoned veterans in the hall watched closely. Although the Grand Dames back-swing was deceptively short there was no question that she had opened with a scorcher. The inmates exchanged knowing glances. It was clear that Ms Lawton intended to teach Deborah a lesson that she wasn’t likely to forget in a hurry.
The cane swished and thwacked again; Deborah felt as if every nerve end in her body had been sent into a hot prickly dance. The third slashed downwards and the hapless Debs felt giddy with pain. The collar of her blouse felt like it was choking her and her eyes prickled with hot tears that she would never let fall.
The Beak delivered stroke after stroke with deadly force. By the seventh stroke Deborah’s buttocks were evenly covered with hot stripes from top to bottom. The eighth and ninth strokes began to merge with the existing stripes but somehow Deborah retained her position without moving and was showing no indication of the trauma she was suffering. Ms Lawton felt cheated; she was giving it her best and was getting no reaction. She set her mouth in a determined manner and took a tight grip on the cane.
“Let’s see how you like this,” the Grand Dame thought silently then raised the cane slightly higher than usual and brought her arm down with considerable force. The cane slashed across the target with a terrible crack, as if a rifle shot had been fired.
Chapter 25
Snap Goes Beaky’s cane
Deborah’s head was spinning. The flesh beneath her crisp white whopping bags seemed to be sizzling. She shook her head in a desperate attempt to clear the fog of pain. “It’s only whops, it’s only whops,” she repeated over and over. Somewhere in the distance she heard an audible gasp.
The Grand Dame stared at the cane in horror; upon its devastating impact the shaft of the cane had snapped off at the end. For a moment Ms Lawton was at a loss as how to proceed. During decades of thrashing thousands of luckless behinds she had never once broken a cane. It had never occurred to her that she might need a back-up. Clearly there was no time to send for another cane from her office, she couldn’t leave Deborah folded over the horse. Her mind raced.
“Melanie, bring me your ashplant,” she commanded. Quickly the Deputy Red-shirt came onto the stage and handed the Grand Dame the short swishy stick that she was required to carry under her arm at all times.
Deborah had no idea what was going on she just wanted the last two strokes to be over with. Her bottom felt fried and frazzled, all her blood seemed to have rushed to her head making her feel dizzy.
The Grand Dame flexed the ashplant with obvious displeasure. The light rod seemed like a mere twig compared to the regal senior cane that now lay cast aside, pathetically broken.
“I’m sorry Morton,” she announced. “This ashplant is most unsuitable; I intend to give you two additional strokes to make up for its inadequacy.”
The inmates gasped audibly. Deborah, in her upside down position, could hardly believe her ears. She vainly tried to object but before she could get words of her mouth her arse was under fire once again. Deborah’s head was spinning at an alarming rate as the twelfth stroke whistled through the air. She clenched her teeth as the nerve jangling implosion racked through her body. The thirteenth stroke followed swiftly with the same cobra’s venom. Deborah gripped the legs of the horse in white-knuckle desperation. By now she could hardly breathe through the bile filling her throat and nose and her bottom throbbed and ached and burned.
The Grand Dame let the cane fall by her side for a moment. She studied the white target thoughtfully. Deborah had not flinched or moved, not a sound had uttered from her lips. Ms Lawton was sure that if she put her hands close to the gal’s backside she would be able to warm them as if she was in front of a well-stoked coal fire. The Grand Dame lifted the cane for the final time.
The gals in the assembly hall watched in mute horror as the Grand Dame’s arm went up. Most of the gals congregated had experienced a taste of a prefect’s ashplant during their stay at Woodys. As such they were well able to confirm that, despite the Grand Dame’s reservations, the ashplant, in accomplished hands was more than adequate to stir up the proverbial hornet’s nest inside a pair of tautened bumbags.
When the ashplant came down with a terrific swipe not a single gal in the hall would have swapped places in Deborah’s gym shorts. The stick lashed diagonally across Deborah’s bottom, cruelly crossing each of the previous tramlines, the impact echoing around the hall.
Deborah nearly screamed. She wanted to howl, to yell, to open the floodgates and let all the tears burn down her cheeks. Instead she held her breath and prayed that the wave of agony would pass quickly. She ran the sleeve of her blouse over her eyes and nose. She hung upside down and tried to start to breathe normally. She took her time before she pushed herself up. As she tried to stand up her knees wobbled and Ms Lawton put her hand on her shoulder to steady her. Deborah Morton roughly shrugged the Grand Dame’s assistance away and leant against the vaulting horse. She took a deep breath before she turned and faced the audience.
The hall was silent. Every gal was watching Deborah in disbelieving silence. Despite her chalk white face and the thin set of her lips, she remained defiant. She brushed some hair from her face, tucked her tie back in her gym shorts and calmly stared out at the assembled inmates.
“You may retire to your study now Morton,” the Grand Dame told Deborah curtly. “We’ll post-process you later.”
The recalcitrant inmate looked at the Grand Dame contemptuously. “You wanted to thrash me, well now you have. I hope you enjoyed it,” her voice was clear and bold. When she had finished speaking she turned on her heel and walked towards the steps. Suddenly she turned around and curtsied.
“Thank you Ma’am,” she said sarcastically, “You won’t have to beat me like that again.”
As she hurried from the stage her heart was pounding and her bottom felt like a cauldron filled with spicy ingredients each competing for which could make the gumbo hottest. All the while she was waiting to be called back, but in a moment the doors of the hall were swinging behind her and to her great relief she was free.
Chapter 26
Operation Scorched Arse
Freedom, however, was short lived. Later that evening Cassandra Cassidy hurried into the study that Joanna Heyworth shared with Nicola Jane Nixon. She told them that her sister, Cathryn, urgently needed to see them, and was waiting behind the stables. They were to bring Debs and Rosemary and not to tell anyone else or let anybody see them.
The four chums were curious about the clandestine request but they knew that if Cat Cassidy saw the need for secrecy then they had better comply. They hurried down the back stairs and cut across the quadrangle.
When the chums arrived at the stables, Cathryn was waiting with Lady Victoria Brompton and Claire Brooks.
“What’s all the secrecy, Cat?” asked Jojo.
Cathryn hushed her. For once the imperturbable Cat looked cagey and anxious.
“Look, I really don’t want to get caught talking to you while I’m wearing these bumbags. The Beak warned us that if we let the cat out of the bag we’d be flogged,” she said earnestly, “So hush up and listen.”
Cathryn dispatched her younger sister, Cassie Cassy, to wait by the doors and keep watch.
Cathryn Cassidy told her chums that immediately after Deb’s flogging the Grand Dame had summoned the Brass and the Elite to an emergency summit.
At the meeting the Grand Dame had announced that she was rolling out a program of Radical Revisions to the rules, regulations and protocols. Cat told her chums that the details were sketchy but the Brass and the Elite had been instructed to implement a zero-tolerance policy with immediate effect. The new program was to be code-named Operation Scorched Arse.
Cat told her chums that the Grand Dame had only had time to give a brief overview of the revisions but she had handed out thick files for the Brass and Elite to read.
Nonetheless, said Cat, even without studying the details the signs were ominous; Ms Lawton had declared open season on mega-minxdom.
She had nominated twelve gals to be treated as hostiles, and had branded them the Dirty Dozen. Cathryn showed them a copy of a presentation slide that had been distributed at the meeting:
“Good fucking grief,” said Jojo.
“Good fucking grief indeed,” Cat sighed. “Listen sisters, I can’t hang about. If we get caught gabbing about this it’ll be whops for all of us. Just be careful sisters, cos you’re in for some surprises. Spread the word and cover your bumbags because the Brass and the Elite are coming in whopping.”
With that Cathryn Cassidy, the original architect of the lifestyle of mega-minxdom, slipped into the night.
“Operation Scorched Arse, what does that mean?” asked Cassie Cassy.
Lady Victoria Brompton scowled, “Declaration of war on our bumbags is what it means,” she said emphatically.
“Sounds like something the CIA would dream up,” growled Nixdown.
Debs Morton looked gloomy. “Public Enemy Number One? Why the fuck has she picked on me?”
“Oh put your bumbags in it Debs,” said Nix cynically. “You’ll love the attention.”
Deborah glared at Nix.
“I think this means we’re in for a long, hot winter,” predicted Jojo Heyworth.
Chapter 27
Miss Deborah Morton
Unfortunately for Debs it was not the first time in her life that she had found herself branded as a hostile and singled out for prejudicial treatment.
Unlike Joanna, whose school had not practiced corporal punishment; Deborah Morton had a long acquaintance with the cane. Her mother had been a former pupil of the original Woody School and when her alma mater had closed down she had sought out a boarding school that was run on equally strict disciplinary principles. Deborah was dispatched to the Queensgate Academy for Young Ladies.
At Queensgate Debs would gain a reputation as an academic wunderkind, she was selected to play clarinet with the National Youth Orchestra, and quickly rose to fame as the number one female tennis player in the country.
However, a review of the school’s punishment record book demonstrates that all that’s gold does not always glitter.
During her first three years at the school she also gained a reputation as an unruly pupil. The school teaching staff was far too genteel to actually punish the students and operated a system where undisciplined pupils were ‘Put on the Menu’. Girls on the menu were required to report before the school’s prefectorial body known as the Posh. After being charged the miscreants were given the opportunity to either plead guilty as charged, make a plea bargain to a lesser charge, or to defend themselves. The Posh had a variety of punishments at their disposal including lines, detentions, community service and the elimination of privileges. They were also permitted to sentence girls to be thrashed with a ceremonial cane known as the ‘popping stick’.
Deborah appeared on the menu with increasing frequency and despite her reputation as a skilled and articulate advocate in her own defense she was thrashed twenty-five times during her first three years at the academy.
Her fourth year was a catastrophe with her behavior spiraling out of control and she made a record-breaking number of appearances on the menu. Despite her silver tongue and deft defenses the odds were stacked against her and predictably she established another record receiving nineteen beatings during the period. Coincidentally the President of Posh who was responsible for administering the thrashings was Pauline Gascoigne who would later take on the role of Economics Dame at the Woody Back to School Unit.
This pattern of misbehavior caused the Principal of the academy to take extreme action. Deborah was summonsed to the Great House for a personal interview the Grand Dame. This in itself was unprecedented. The Grand Dame lived in isolation from the main school leaving administration and discipline to the twenty-one members of the Posh.
During the interview the Grand Dame showed Debs her end of year report card. At the bottom of the card there was a section for the Grand Dame to assign a cumulative grade for academics, sporting achievement and behavior. Grading was scaled between A and E. In the first two boxes Deborah had been graded A+ for her schoolwork and her performance at sports. However, in the behavior box the Grand Dame had crossed through the scores and simply written DEPLORABLE in red ink.
Deborah was informed that during the forthcoming school year she would be required to carry a special book with her at all times and at the end of each class she would present it to the presiding Dame to have her behavior graded. She would no longer be placed on the menu by the Dames which at least would have given her the opportunity to defend herself. Instead, she was informed, in the event that she scored three grades of C- or less during any given week she would receive a mandatory beating on Friday evening.
Foolishly Deborah continued to flirt with fate and during the first week following her return to school she accumulated three bad grades. The Grand Dame sentenced her to six strokes of the cane. In the ensuing weeks she continued to fail to meet the performance criteria and each week her punishment was increased by an additional stroke. By the end of the fourth week she was sentenced to the maximum dosage of nine strokes and was warned that she would continue to get nine until she succeeded in getting through a week with acceptable behavior grades.
By the time she left the academy to play on the professional tennis circuit Deborah Morton had been beaten on thirty-nine consecutive Fridays.
An examination of the national archive of the Ministry of Education dating back over one hundred and fifty years reveals that with an accumulation of eighty-three beatings Miss Deborah Morton holds the record for being caned more than any other school pupil in recorded history.
Debs Morton slipped under her duvet. The stripes on her backside were still sizzling like sausages in a pan filled with oil. She had an uncomfortable premonition that life was about to become even hotter inside her already poor beleaguered bumbags. She sighed and turned off the side-light. (The Saga Continues in Volume 2 – Operation Scorched Arse)
I hope you enjoyed the extract, if you want to learn more about the mega-minxes from the Woody Back to School Unit then cut along sharpish to the Woodettes Storefront and BUY 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.
Free Spanking Book Week Day 6 – Chapters 20-23
As promised here are chapters 20 thru 23 of the Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber that The Woody Back to School Unit is making available absolutely free of charge to my visitors.
For those of you who missed the first five installments I have posted them in the sidebar for easy access … enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH
Chapter 20
A Sensational Swishing
Deborah Morton’s backside was a highly-calibrated whopometer and the opening stroke had set alarm bells ringing. The cane had sliced perfectly across the sweet spot of her upturned derriere and had sent a wave of pain ratcheting through Deborah’s central nervous system. As she struggled to cope with the blur of pain it occurred to Deborah that if the opener was anything to judge by she was in for an unpleasantly hot and sweaty few minutes.
Patsy had settled into a rhythm. The success of the first stroke had helped to settle her nerves. She favored an eighteen-inch backswing, a smooth approach and relied on the momentum from a last moment flick of the risk to maximize the smart. Upon each impact Deborah’s knee’s buckled slightly but she resolutely kept her fingers glued to her toes.
Deborah was not having a good time of it. She could take six with the best of them but this was a sensational swishing by any standards. She gritted her teeth as the cane sliced and diced her bumbags with the monotonous rhythm of a metronome.
The position of bending over and touching their toes was extremely unpopular with the inmates. It put considerable strain on the backs of the calves and thighs and was difficult to maintain with a whippy stick rebounding off their bumbags. Of course, like everything else at the Back to School facility, there was a protocol to be followed. The protocol dictated that the victim’s fingers must physically be touching her toes throughout the beating. In the event that the victim jerked the stroke could be called foul and repeated.
Deborah was an extraordinarily athletic young woman and physically fit. Under normal circumstances, touching her toes for an extended period of time would not have posed a problem. Nonetheless, even Debs was experiencing difficulties as the cane scorched across her tautened bumbags.
They were five strokes in and Patsy was setting herself up for the closer. Debs ran her tongue over her dry lips. The five stripes were throbbing dreadfully. She felt the cane tapping downwards and then an ominous whistle from behind her.
It took every iota of Deborah’s substantial will-power to stay down and not to jerk as the whippy stick sizzled diagonally across the existing stripes. She stared down at the floor, her breath coming in long pants as she felt Patsy turning her skirt back down and then issue the release command. Very slowly Deborah Morton straightened up, her face was pallid and her mouth set in a tight line. Slowly she wriggled across to the side table to retrieve her blazer.
Neither gal spoke during the post-processing. Deborah watched as Patsy fastened her collar and rolled down her sleeves before shrugging on her block red blazer and fastening the five buttons. Debs handed the Captain of the Red House her punishment record book and watched the punishment being added to the new year’s tally.
“I’m sorry, Debs,” said Patsy, “but I’m going to have to ask you to step up to my study. I’m afraid I wasn’t kidding when I said that the Wart wants to inspect your stripes.”
Deborah grimaced and followed Patsy towards the door.
The Wart was in rare form. She forced Deborah to bend over the back of the sofa in Patsy’s study and took her own sweet time inspecting the House Captain’s handiwork. Deborah felt her face turning red as Ms Wharton chuckled and chortled over the vivid red stripes that were visibly pulsating. After she had finished her inspection the Wart cruelly landed two full-blooded spanks across Deborah’s twitching buttocks.
“I trust you won’t be costing the House any more penalties any time soon,” snarled the Wart. “Now straighten up your clothing and get out of my sight. I’m warning you Morton, I’ll have my eye on you.”
Gloomily Debs reached down and pulled up her bumbags. She smoothed down her skirt and hobbled off in pursuit of Rosemary and her mystical balms.
Later that evening, Debs recorded in her journal, “Patsy is going to be one to watch. There was an unfortunate misunderstanding over the duty roster and I was summonsed to the library to touch my toes for six. Patsy is definitely a natural, she started well with a real scorcher and slowly worked up to a crescendo. The closer was an absolute cracker and I am still sizzling nearly six hours later.” After a detailed whop by whop description of the beating Deborah concluded with the somewhat rueful observation that, “I am not having a promising start to the year.”
Nonetheless, despite her unfortunate start to the year Debs Morton had some unfinished business and she was not about to let the small matter of a sore arse get in the way of her plans.
Chapter 21
Revenge is not so Sweet
Debs’ revenge was not a great success. After lights were turned out for lockdown she had sneaked out of the study she shared with Rosemary Booker and surreptitiously made her way out of the living quarters, across the quadrangle and over to the stables.
Getting the pony out of the stables had proved more difficult than expected. Unlike the more serious equestrians Debs didn’t own her own pony so she selected one from the general pool. It had neighed and whinnied so loudly that Debs had almost abandoned the operation at its inception. Deborah had finally managed to pacify the animal with kind words and sugar treats and had eventually succeeded in securing mufflers onto its hooves.
Crossing the quadrangle had been nerve-wracking. She had waited until Sunday night when she figured most of the Brass would be in town, drinking in the local saloon bars. Nonetheless there were still lights in a few of the windows of the floors of the accommodation building occupied by the Dames. Deborah had gently sweet-talked the pony across the grass, terrified that any second an innocent glance from a lighted window would expose her. Her luck held and she reached the dark safety of the entrance to the science lab. She opened the door and led the pony into the laboratory. She passed through the entrance lobby and went into the chemistry room. Gently she stroked the animal and whispered sweet nothings. She fed it sugar and then laid out some hay at the back of the room and hung a feeding bag around its neck.
She kissed the pony gently. “Be quiet now,” she pleaded, “be a good horsy and go to sleep.”
The pony appeared to be content to munch on its food. Deborah patted her again and slowly moved away. She backed out of the door, her heart thumping. Suddenly there was an almighty crash of breaking glass and the pony let out an ear-shattering neigh. Deborah’s heart missed a beat, she rushed back into the room, the pony neighed again and then promptly dropped her load on the floor. Deborah stared incredulously. She tried to calm the pony’s distress but it had worked itself into a frenzy. She had shattered the glass in the front of a cabinet and kicked several stools across the room, making them good for tinder wood.
Deborah’s mind was racing. She had to think of something, the cacophony of whinnying and breaking furniture was doubtless audible clear across the quad. The smell of equine defecation was becoming sickening. Deborah snatched up a rag from a sink and blindfolded the pony. Slowly the distressed animal responded to the hapless gal’s desperate entreaties. Shaking its head twice and blowing through its nostrils it let out a disgruntled snort and buried its face in the feedbag.
Deborah surveyed the damage and momentarily hung her head.
“Jeepers,” she mumbled to herself, “I’ve really torn it now.”
She crossed to the window and peeped out. “Crikey!” she gasped. Phyllis MacAllister, the Science Dame, was bustling across the quadrangle closely followed by Patty Hodge. Apparently they had left the bar early and returned to the compound. Cursing under her breath Deborah frantically raced towards the door. If she was lucky she could escape into the shadows before the two Dames reached the building. As she rushed out she caught sight of the thick leather tawse that hung from a hook beside the blackboard. The mere sight of the dreaded strap gave her supernatural powers and she bounded through the lobby and out into the darkness just moments before the Dames arrived on site.
Deborah stood panting in the shadows. She cautiously peered around the corner of the laboratory building; she knew she had to make a break for it. In a few moments the Dames would be waking up the facility and pursuing the culprit. Deborah shivered, then plucking up her courage she bolted across to the living quarters and slipped through the window that she had left ajar.
She’d only just made it back to the study that she shared with Rosemary before lights went on all over the unit. Hurriedly she changed into her jimjams and slid under the covers. When the light in the room snapped on Deborah feigned sleep. For a second Ms MacAllister stood in the doorway, the fearsome strap in hand. She shut off the light and Deborah breathed a sigh of relief.
Chapter 22
Prepare for a Flogging
The next morning, Ms Lawton’s entrance to the assembly hall was quite formidable. The doors crashed closed behind her and she mounted the steps to the stage two at a time. No sooner had the assembled inmates begun to rise to their feet than they were curtly commanded to sit down. The Grand Dame banged her hand down on the table.
“I want to know who was responsible for the despicable activities in the science block last night,” she roared, “I don’t care how long it takes but I will find out. Until the culprit comes forward all privileges and recreational activities are canceled for the whole community.”
Her face was red with rage and she was visibly shaking as she faced the assembled inmates.
From towards the back of the hall a chair scraped on the wooden floor and the sound of footsteps caused every head in the hall to turn.
Calmly Deborah approached the stage. While the inmates gaped Deborah faced the Grand Dame.
“I’m responsible Ma’am,” she said in a clear voice.
Ms Lawton’s chin dropped, she simply stared. Her face went from a ruddy flush to a pale haunted color. She was visibly shaken.
“You Morton?” she asked incredulously.
Deborah nodded, “Yes Ma’am” she said firmly.
The Grand Dame breathed heavily, “Go and wait outside my study. I would like to proceed with assembly,” she said quietly.
Standing outside the Grand Dame’s study, Deborah complimented herself on her composure. When her plan had gone awry she had panicked badly and had sneaked back to bed in a cold sweat. She had hardly been able to sleep, her heart had pounded and her stomach had churned biliously, but as the lonely night had passed she had steadied her nerves and prepared herself to face the inevitable music.
Ms Lawton leaned back in her wing-backed chair and stared thoughtfully at the gal standing before her. Deborah had paid particular attention to her preparations that morning. Her clobber was perfectly pressed, her shoes shone, her face was scrubbed and gleaming, and her mane of blonde curly hair was brushed back from her face and gathered into a tidy pony tail. Standing smartly to attention, in the center of the thick pile carpet, Deborah Morton looked a vision of angelic innocence. Ms Lawton wasn’t fooled for a moment.
“It is difficult to know where to begin, Morton,” she said slowly. “There must be some explanation for an act of such indescribable vandalism.”
Deborah returned the Grand Dame’s gimlet glare unflinchingly. “It was a prank, Ma’am.”
“A prank, Morton? You leave a terrified pony in the Science lab, expensive equipment has been damaged, the laboratory will be a health hazard for days, and you call it a prank?”
“I didn’t mean to scare the pony, Ma’am.”
“You take a pony into strange surroundings and you don’t think that’s cruel?”
“I brought it oats and hay, Ma’am.”
The Grand Dame let out a disgusted sigh. She suddenly stood up and leant forward across the desk.
“It was the most stupid, cruel and thoughtless act that I have ever heard of!” she bellowed. “I ought to have you in front of a special parole board this very minute! I could have you put back several years!”
Deborah didn’t flinch, “I’m sorry I scared the pony and I’m sorry about the damage, but it was still a prank…Ma’am,” she said firmly.
The Grand Dame slammed her hand on the desk. “I’m sure you’re sorry now but not half as sorry as you’re going to be!” Unflinchingly Deborah continued to stare steadily back at Ms Lawton. Their eyes held for a short moment, the Grand Dame’s filled with anger, Deborah’s non-committal.
Finally the Grand Dame sat down. Deborah’s icy calm was beginning to disconcert her.
Ms Lawton leaned forward in her seat, placed her elbows on the desk and rested her chin on the back of her hands. She breathed deeply. She waited for her fury to subside.
“This is a very difficult situation Morton. You have caused damage to property, incapacitated a laboratory so badly the curriculum has been interrupted, you have caused untold harm to a defenseless pony, not to mention having the whole facility up halfway through the night. Do you understand the seriousness of the trouble you’re in?”
Deborah nodded, “Yes Ma’am,” she said firmly, “I know that it all looks bad but it was a prank and it all went frightfully wrong.”
Ms Lawton picked up the phone. “Katie, come in here. We need to prepare for a flogging.”
Chapter 23
Not Feeling So Lucky
Deborah bent over the vaulting horse. Katie Beck took measurements and then told Debs to stand up. Debs watched morosely as Katie cynically raised the height of the saddle of the horse so that it was at an elevation that would be slightly too high for Deborah to bend over comfortably, and would mean she would have to remain on tiptoes throughout the flogging.
Deborah reached under her skirt and stepped out of her bumbags. She handed them to Katie. The Matron looked at the inside label to find the size. She crossed to a chest of drawers and after rummaging briefly she produced a crisply starched pair of white cotton gym shorts. She handed them to Deborah.
“Put them on,” grinned Katie.
Deborah Morton snatched the garment; known to the Woody Wags as whopping bags, and turned her back on Katie. She knew the form. She struggled and squirmed to slide herself into the shorts that Katie had purposefully selected a size too small. Deborah could barely fasten the button at the waist.
When the bell rang midway through the morning lectures the Woody gals knew what to expect.
“Assemble the inmates,” Katie announced over the public address system. “Deborah Morton, Phase 5, twelve stroke public flogging for vandalism.”
The announcement that Deborah would receive twelve strokes attracted a lot of raised eyebrows. Public floggings were traditionally divided into two categories.
Mandatory floggings generally related to repeat offenses such as being chucked out of lectures three times during a seven-day period or being chucked out of assembly three times during a single term. Mandatory floggings were carried out during Callover and were limited to six strokes of the senior cane.
Punishment floggings were administered for more serious offenses that included cussing out the Brass or the Elite, smoking, boozing, scrapping or cutting curfew. At any time day or night the inmates could be summonsed to the assembly hall to witness a punishment flogging which was comprised of nine strokes.
A twelve-stroke flogging was unprecedented and the news was not well received by the inmates of the facility.
“Bummer! Twelve strokes is a bit strong,” grumbled Nix as she and her chums strode towards the assembly hall.
“Tough duty,” agreed Jojo. “Still it could have been worse, she could have been sent up before a parole board.”
“Thank heavens for small mercies,” sighed Rosemary.
Debs Morton was not thanking anyone for small mercies. Ms Lawton had Deborah pinned down over her knee, with her white cotton whopping bags rolled down and concertinaed around her ankles. Ms Lawton was giving Debs a damn good spanking. Debs had reluctantly allowed herself to be lowered downwards and stretched out into the mandatory full drape so that she was fully supported by Ms Lawton with only the tips of her fingers and her toes touching the carpet.
However much she hated being hand spanked like a grubby Deborah was forced to grudgingly admit that the warm-up actually helped her to get into the zone. Being caned in front of the whole unit was always a daunting experience but as a fully paid up mega-minx Deborah was duty bound to take her flogging without making a muff of herself.
Ms Lawton pulled Deborah in tight and Debs settled in for a few very hot and very sweaty minutes.
Debs pulled up the zip and fastened the button on the side of her shorts. The material chaffed against the swollen flesh. She wriggled involuntarily. Over the intercom she heard Katie summonsing the inmates to the assembly hall. She felt a shiver up her spine.
Ms Lawton was at the tall-boy selecting a cane, flexing them between her hands and swishing them through the air until she found one to her liking.
“You can consider yourself lucky that I haven’t sent you before a disciplinary hearing,” she told Deborah coldly, “but I can assure you Morton, I intend to flog you with the utmost severity.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” said Deborah, although she wasn’t too sure that she was exactly feeling lucky. (To be Continued)
I hope you enjoyed the extract, if you want to learn more about the mega-minxes from the Woody Back to School Unit then cut along sharpish to the Woodettes Storefront and BUY 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.
Free Spanking Book Week Day 5 – Chapters 16 thru 19
As promised here are chapters 16 thru 19 of the Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber that The Woody Back to School Unit is making available absolutely free of charge to my visitors.
For those of you who missed the first four installments I have posted them in the sidebar for easy access … enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH
Chapter 16
The First Brat Beating
The antics of the Famous Four did not pass without comment amongst the Brass. During the spring of Jojo’s Brat-year the Radical Right demanded a summit to discuss the ‘Problem Brats’. The summit was chaired by Patricia Hodge and the Dame’s from the Radical Right sought to persuade Ms Lawton that the hand-spankings were proving ineffectual. They warned the Grand Dame that Brat-minxdom continued to escalate and was in danger of becoming an epidemic.
The fine art of grubbing and the tradition of Brat-draping dates back to the original Woody School and had been introduced by the Lawrence Sisters, who had opened the doors of the academy in 1857. When Ms Lawton had attended the school the system had still been in place and she had first hand experience of the tough life of being a grubby.
When she was commissioned to establish the nation’s harshest Back to School unit she was fully cognizant that the inmates were to be comprised of the kingdom’s most Extreme Ladette’s. It occurred to her that there would be no better antidote to their wild and truculent behavior than to spend their first year as fully paid up grubby’s. She hoped that spending twelve months in the somewhat demeaning position of head down, arse up across their Personal Drapers knees might knock some of the recalcitrance out of them.
Ms Lawton was forced to agree that Patty and her cronies had a compelling argument. Even the more minx-friendly Dames from the Liberal Left concurred that the Famous Four were the most disruptive influences that they had yet had to contend with.
The Grand Dame studied the statistics. In sheer volume of spanks Nicola Jane Nixon out-ranked the other members of the Famous Four; however Ms Lawton acknowledged that Nix was at a severe disadvantage. She had been assigned to grub for the presiding Red-shirt, Katie Beck. Katie was proving to be a cruel and autocratic leader of the Elite and Ms Lawton had already been forced to cane her on several occasions for over-stepping the boundaries established in the Red-shirt Charter. The majority of Nixdown’s spankings had been delivered by her mentor. Amongst the Famous Four she had been spanked the least for disrupting lectures.
The Grand Dame looked at the second name on the list. She summonsed a grubby.
“Find Heyworth,” she instructed. “Tell her I wish to see her and advise her that she had better cut along sharpish.”
“Remove your blazer and bend over the chair,” Ms Lawton had instructed Jojo. “I intend to give you three strokes of the cane for serial malfeasance.” Joanna Heyworth stared at the straight-backed chair that stood ominously in front of the fireplace in the Grand Dame’s study.
Uncertainly Joanna had leaned forward, her hands on the padded seat, her legs slightly buckled. The Grand Dame tapped her knees with the cane.
“Straight legs Heyworth, reach down and grasp the cross bar. I need you to put it up and keep it up,” she commanded.
Joanna reached downwards, she was keenly conscious that as she reached towards the crossbar her bottom was sticking further and further up in the air. Her heart pounded beneath her blouse as she felt her skirt being turned back.
It was a historic moment: Jojo Heyworth was about to become the first Little Brat in the unit’s history to be caned.
The first stroke of the cane swiped across Joanna’s bottom. For a second she thought it wasn’t so bad and then the wave of agitation enveloped her. She had never experienced anything like it in her life. The electrifying force of the stripe of the thin stick seemed to explore nerve endings she was not even aware existed. Momentarily she felt concussed, then as the mist of sheer pain subsided she had a second of lucidity and thought to herself, “Yikes, I hope there’s not many more from where that came from.” And then the second stroke landed.
Jojo was sitting uncomfortably in the cafeteria surrounded by Rosemary, Nix and Debs. Predictably they were engrossed in discussing Joanna’s recent encounter with the Grand Dame’s cane. They were taken by surprise when Lady Victoria Brompton barreled down on their table.
Jojo and her chums had become used to being ignored by the more senior inmates and they were not sure what to make of Victoria’s arrival.
Although she was only in the second phase of her sentence Lady Vix was already a Woody legend and was a top lieutenant in Cat Cassidy’s subversive cult of mega-minxdom. She had a reputation as a pugnacious, potty-mouthed firebrand.
Vix put both hands on the table and stared directly at Jojo.
“Rumor has it you got whopped, that true?” she asked.
Jojo nodded.
“You howl?” demanded Victoria.
Jojo shook her head.
“You sure?” asked Victoria.
Joanna nodded again. “Jojo doesn’t howl,” she said emphatically. “Only muffs howl.”
Lady Vix held Jojo’s stare.
“Fawkin’ ‘A’ sister,” she chuckled finally and then turned on her heel and returned to her seat.
Chapter 17
From Nix to Nixdown
The fifth stroke slashed down causing Jojo to take a sharp intake of breath. She shook her head in an attempt to clear the fog of pain and desperately struggled to prepare herself for the final stroke, known amongst the Woody Wags as ‘the Closer’.
Ms Lawton’s trademark was the five-bar gate. She would lay out the first five strokes evenly across the crown of her victims bum and then slash the final stroke down diagonally across the earlier stripes.
Jojo winced as the cane sliced down, agitating the thin, swollen stripes that covered her behind. She gripped the chair wrung and closed her eyes. The heat of the stripe passed through her in waves and she concentrated on keeping her breathing even.
Ms Lawton reached down and rolled Joanna’s bumbags back in to place and then folded her skirt down.
“You may rise,” she said unsympathetically. “Go and face the wall.” The Grand Dame pointed at Nicola Jane. “Nixon,” she snapped. “Remove your blazer and bend over the chair.”
As the two chums crossed over in the middle of the office Jojo threw Nixdown a wry grin. The two gals had made many forays to the Grand Dame’s study together. Since they had been sentenced to spend seven years at the Woody Back to School unit they had made the perpetration of maximum mischief and mayhem their raison d’etre.
Nicola Jane Nixon shrugged off her striped blazer and after giving Ms Lawton a belligerent glare she bent over the chair.
Nixdown was a queer duck by any standards. She had a reputation for being rude, deeply cynical and spectacularly promiscuous. When she was able to secure weekend town passes she passed the afternoons having nooky with a famous rock-star and during the week she indulged herself by boffing her way through the Elite.
Nix made no secret of the fact that she despised being formally punished but she adored pain and submission in a recreational theatre. Nixdown had earned her nickname during the unfortunate year when she had been obliged to act as Personal Grubby to Katie Beck. The sadistic Red-shirt had liberally indulged her penchant for sporting spanking and regularly illegally yanked down Nicola Jane’s navy blue knickers to deliver unreported drapings. Never one’s to miss an opportunity the Woody Wags immediately extended Nicola Jane’s lifelong abbreviation from Nix to Nixdown.
A lot of stripes had passed under Nixdown’s bumbags since those heady early days of discovering the joys of minxdom. She was a naturally obstreperous cove and her tendency to treat the Brass and the Elite as second class citizens had not proven to be a popular trait. The Brass and Elite branded her a degenerate and laid siege to her bumbags. Her fellow inmates, of course, thought that she was absolutely fabulous.
Standing a mere five feet and half an inch tall in flat soled shoes Nix was forced to raise herself up onto the balls of her feet in order to reach over the chair to grasp the cross bar on the far side.
Nixdown had no time for mantra’s she was too busy directing dark hexes at the Grand Dame as her skirt and bumbags were being neatly rearranged. She winced as the cane scorched across her arse. The feverish burn might have sent her into spasms of ecstasy under the right circumstances but bent over the straight-backed chair in Ms Lawton’s study it merely caused her to mutter her own version of the motto of the Hellfire Club inscribed on the doorway of Medmenham Abbey. “Fay ce que voudras, Bitch!” Nix muttered under her breath.
Nixdown and Jojo took it in turns to lay across Rosemary’s lap so that they could have the hot red stripes on their bottoms anointed with her mystical balms.
“All this gab about Radical Revisions doesn’t bode well for our bumbags,” predicted Jojo.
“Fuck the Radical Revisions,” muttered Nixdown cynically.
“I told you, she’s finally lost it,” said Debs. “The Beak is certifiably fucking barking.”
“Jojo’s right, a certifiably barking Beak and a cupboard full of canes do not bode well for our bumbags,” observed Rosemary.
Chapter 18
The Nose and Toes Protocols
On Saturday afternoon Debs Morton was up in the study she shared with Rosemary working on an assignment when there was a knock on the door.
“Excuse me, Morton,” said Virginia Gardiner, “but Miss Butcher needs you repair to the library. Apparently you are to be beaten on Red House Business. She said that you need to cut along sharpish.”
Deborah scowled darkly at the grubby. Virginia took a wary step backwards. “I’m sorry, Morton,” she said hurriedly and beat a hasty retreat.
Dismally Deborah went to the closet and took down her blazer from a clothes-hanger. She pulled it on and fastened the top button before heading out of the door.
The library was housed in the east wing of the sprawling facility and even stretching her legs it took Debs nearly five minutes before she finally entered the corridor leading to the room. As she cut through the labyrinth of hallways and stairwells she wracked her brains as to what she could possibly have done that would merit a beating.
She had started the day with her normal routine of waking at dawn and meeting up with Ms Lummell for a three mile run. They had then taken to the tennis court and worked on her serve for an hour. When they were finished she had changed and attended assembly, which had proved mercifully uneventful. Afterwards she had returned to her study to work on a paper on Thomas a Becket and the Constitutions of Clarenden. Debs was an avid historian and became engrossed in her research; save for a short break in the cafeteria she hadn’t left her study.
Debs approached the heavy wooden door at the end of the corridor. Once she reached the entrance to the library she turned to face the wall, leaning slightly forward so that the tip of her nose physically touched the wood panels and then raised her arms and inter-linked her fingers on the top of her head.
Deborah knew the form; it would be a minimum of fifteen minutes before the House Captain would arrive, leaving her an appropriate interval to ruminate over the imminent future of her bumbags. Although the seventy-two hours that had elapsed since her double bare bender from Ms Lawton was adequate time for a whop-hardened veteran like Debs to make a full recovery she was less than enthused by the prospect of embarking on another licking in quite such short proximity.
She stared gloomily at the wall. Somewhere in the distance she could hear the sound of footsteps as they climbed the wooden stairs in the quiet and deserted wing of the building. Debs was still none the wiser why she had unexpectedly been summonsed for a beating but she had no doubt that all would be revealed in the foreseeable future. She twitched her nose and wished Patsy would hurry up.
Patsy Butcher climbed the final flight of stairs that led to the library. At the end of the corridor she could see Deborah standing facing the wall with her hands on her head. The newly appointed Captain of the Red House took a deep breath and strode down the corridor.
Debs didn’t move a muscle as she heard the footsteps approaching. The protocols regarding nose and toes were very precise:
1. An inmates nose must be physically touching the wall and toes touching the skirting board throughout a nose and toes session until the release command is issued,
2. At no time during a nose and toes session should an inmate’s elbows contact the wall,
3. Contravention of the nose and toes protocols is deemed to be a ‘zero tolerance’ offence and will be punished with an additional six strokes to be delivered no earlier than twenty four hours after the primary punishment and no later than thirty-six hours following the contravention.
After four full years at the facility Deborah Morton was fully cognizant with the ramifications of failure to comply with the protocol.
“Lower your arms and follow me, Morton,” said Patsy.
Debs and Patsy were tight. Patsy regularly worked out with Deborah, helping her with her short sprints. Patsy’s abrupt use of her surname had a jarring effect.
“Yes Ma’am,” muttered Deborah as she trudged into the library following the Captain of the Red House.
Chapter 19
Patsy’s First Time Out
The library had an austere atmosphere, lined with shelves filled with dusty books dating back over a century and a half. There were a few areas furnished with tables, inhospitable wooden seated chairs and low-wattage side-lamps. It was many years since the library had been used for its original purpose.
Patsy stopped three quarters of the way along the library. Without needing instruction Deborah continued onwards until she reached a large ornate fireplace that dominated the far wall. She turned around and faced Patsy. Without being asked she reached up and placed her hands on her head.
“You failed to turn up for weeding duty,” said Patsy slowly.
Debs gaped at the House Captain. “Weeding duty? I wasn’t on the schedule for weeding today,” she exclaimed. “I had a clear roster. I checked this morning.”
“You were first reserve,” said Patsy, sounding uncomfortable. “There were a number of changes to the afternoon duty roster and they were posted before lunch. Unfortunately everybody else checked the notice-board; you were the only one who failed to turn up. The Red House was fined fifteen points so Dame Wharton insists that you are caned.”
Deborah grimaced. “I was upstairs studying,” she said rather lamely.
“Do you wish to lodge an appeal?” asked Patsy.
Debs licked her dry lips and considered this option. Although the appeal system was designed to offer the inmates a safety net and to dissuade the more tyrannical elements of the Brass and Elite from awarding bogus whops it had a significant downside. An unsuccessful appeal resulted in a second six of the best being delivered twenty-four hours later.
Ms Wharton who served as the Mistress of the Red House was notorious for her strict and often brutal interpretation of the House Protocols. Even if Debs was able to persuade the prefects on the Council of the Red House that it was just an unfortunate oversight the Mistress of the House would still have to sanction the reprieve. From painful experience she knew that in all probability the Wart would interpret her failure to check the notice board as willful negligence or some such nonsense. Unappealing as six might be, one six was certainly preferable to two sixes.
“I’ll take a whopping now,” she grunted with a decided lack of enthusiasm.
Patsy Butcher took her time taking off her blazer, loosening her collar and rolling back her sleeves. Deborah watched her, her hands still on her head.
Patsy was a beautiful specimen. A five-foot ten inch tall Rastafarian with braided dread-locks that reached down to her waist. Patsy’s blouse seemed to have been paint-sprayed to her body and showed off her magnificent physique. Deborah worked out regularly with Patsy and was keenly aware of the strength and power of the House Captains arms.
Patsy picked up the ceremonial Red House cane and swished it through the air.
“I’m going to have to ask you to remove your blazer,” she said firmly, “and to bend over and face the fireplace.”
Deborah lowered her arms and unfastened the button of her blazer. She shrugged the jacket off and folded it neatly. She turned towards the fireplace.
“Just one more thing, Morton,” said Patsy. “I’m afraid this is going to have to be hot. This is my first time out and Ms Wharton is going to need to inspect your stripes. I can’t afford to cut you any slack.”
“Understood,” grunted Deborah and bent forward at the waist until her fingers were resting on the toes of her shoes.
Patsy stepped forward and neatly turned back the hem of Deborah’s skirt exposing a drum-tight pair of navy blue gossamer bumbags.
The House Captain tapped the cane down to get her measure, once, twice, thrice and then unleashed a scorcher.
During her certification on the training course Patsy Butcher had demonstrated considerable prowess with the cane. She had been one of the few prefects in the facilities history who had scored perfect marks in every category at her first attempt.
The cane sliced across Deborah’s bumbags with the crack of a rifle-shot. (To be Continued)
I hope you enjoyed the extract, if you want to learn more about the mega-minxes from the Woody Back to School Unit then cut along sharpish to the Woodettes Storefront and BUY 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.
Free Spanking Week Day 4 – Chapters 12-15
As promised here are chapters 12 thru 15 of the Volume 1 – Whops and Clobber that The Woody Back to School Unit is making available absolutely free of charge to my visitors.
For those of you who missed the first three installments I have posted them in the sidebar for easy access … enjoy … Bottoms Up! … RH
Chapter 12
The Radical Revisions
The Grand Dame’s demeanor was not greatly improved when Joanna Heyworth and Nicola Jane Nixon were required to pay her a visit the following morning. Ms Lawton stared across her desk and fixed Jojo and Nix with a gimlet glare. She was not in the least bit impressed by their woefully insincere looks of penitence.
Neither gal had offered much in the way of an explanation, merely informing the Principal that Ms Reed, the Dame in charge of Mathematics, had sent them up for disrupting her lecture. Jojo had added that the Maths Dame had requested that they were to be beaten soundly.
The Grand Dame was considerably vexed to find the two chums appearing before her and went to great pains to articulate her displeasure by serving up a most unsavory ration of tongue pie.
Over the years Ms Lawton had perfected the fine art of scolding; she spoke in a cold and clipped manner, selecting her words carefully and spitting barbs across the desk in a tone that resembled diamond running down glass. Occasionally at unexpected moments she would lean forward and unleash a verbal assault that made her victims recoil as if a tiger had swiped its paw at them. The Woody Wags liked to joke that the Grand Dame sat up at night poring over ancient dictionaries, lexicons, tomes and scrolls researching new definitions of mischief and malfeasance.
On occasions she had been known to reduce the more vulnerable inmates to tears long before she took her cane to their backsides, but the Grand Dame knew that she had a snowballs chance in hell of eliciting such an extreme reaction from the two seasoned miscreants standing before her. Jojo and Nix had long ago learned the art of looking repentant and attentive whilst staring into the middle distance and trying to ignore the scathing diatribes.
The Grand Dame had no shortage of ammunition to fuel her vitriolic. Joanna Heyworth was the unit’s undisputed Big BUTT and was widely acknowledged to be the most fabulous mega-minx yet to emerge from the ranks of the Bottoms Up Table of Troublemakers. Her best chum, Nicola Jane Nixon, was no shrinking violet either and was a high ranking member on the Hall of Shame. For the past four years Jojo and Nix had dedicated themselves to the cult of minxdom, honing their skills in japing the Brass and rubbishing the Elite. They were amongst Ms Lawton’s most frequent visitors.
Jojo fixed her gaze on the painting on the wall behind the Grand Dame. It was one of her favorites, an early work by a famous French impressionist, filled with subtle detail and dozens of characters attending a bacchanalian picnic on the banks of the Seine. It was an original, on loan to the Woody Back to School unit from the private collection of Joe Summers, the notorious scoundrel and fraudster, and father of Bernadette Summers. Sadly Joe was languishing in chokey doing a fifteen year stretch for ripping the government off for millions in international aid grants. Bernadette had lent the facility the paintings for safe keeping while she completed her own seven year stretch. During her regular visits to the Principal’s office Jojo had memorized every square inch of the painting and spent hours in the art-room practicing the techniques of the artist. It was a fruitful way to avoid listening to the endless harangues.
Nonetheless, every now and again Ms Lawton’s lecture piqued Jojo’s interest and curiosity. Ever since they had returned from furlough, during morning assemblies, the Grand Dame had been issuing dire warnings about the painful consequences of continued contravention of the rules, regulations and protocols. Jojo had heard it all before, but this morning Ms Lawton was constantly referring to undisclosed Radical Revisions that she tended to implement. It occurred to Jojo that Radical Revisions might have ominous ramifications for her already beleaguered bumbags.
Throughout the summer furlough Susan Lawton had labored over her strategy to counteract the surge of mega-minxdom that threatened to reduce the unit into anarchy.
When she had first authored the rules, regulations and protocols that would dominate life at the facility she had made the assumption that the inmates would respond positively to the austere disciplinary regime and would become considerably less disciplinary challenged during the latter years of their incarceration. However the subterranean cult of mega-minxdom continued to flourish and many of its leading lights were in the late stages of their sentences. Cat Cassidy, Melanie White, Lady Victoria Brompton and Claire Brooks were all seniors and still raising Cain on the Hall of Shame. Now, within days of commencing the fifth phase of their sentences three members of the notorious Famous Four had already required punishment.
The time had come, the Grand Dame decided, to implement the Radical Revisions before anarchy prevailed.
Chapter 13
A World Class Whopping
The Grand Dame uttered more dark warnings about her intentions to restore order and to stamp out the cult of mega-minxdom once and for all.
Jojo and Nixdown watched as Ms Lawton strode across the room to the tallboy where she kept her wide selection of canes. The Grand Dame was an elegant woman who was always neatly coifed and immaculately made-up. She always wore stylish suits, with knee length skirts and tailored jackets.
Ms Lawton tested several canes by flexing them and swishing them through the air before settling on one that satisfied her.
She turned away from the cupboard and pointed the cane at Nicola Jane.
“You, Nixon,” she snapped, “face the wall.”
Sullenly Nicola Jane Nixon walked across the room, knowing exactly what was expected of her. She stepped up to the wood paneled wall and moved in close. She leaned her neck slightly forward until the tip of her nose was gently touching the wall. She shuffled her shoes against the skirting board. She raised her arms and inter-linked her fingers on top of her head.
Nose and toes was a familiar pose to the Woody gals.
The Grand Dame turned and pointed the cane towards Jojo. “You, Heyworth,” she snapped, “remove your blazer and bend over the chair.”
The eight words had an air of finality about them. Any last bastion of hope of reprieve or forgiveness was immediately vanquished by the simple phrase.
Jojo took her time. She bent forward over the back of the chair and placed her hands on the cushioned seat. She looked down at the familiar faded green covering of the chair seat, then wearily she leaned over further and grasped the cross bar. Once she was in position the Grand Dame stepped forward and turned back the hem of her skirt in neat folds. She felt a tug on the tails of her blouse and then that was turned back too. Jojo raised her hips slightly away from the chair to allow Ms Lawton to roll her bumbags down to the tops of her thighs.
Jojo took a deep breath and tried to settle in. She felt the cane tap down, once, twice, thrice as the Grand Dame got her measure, then from above she heard an ominous whistle, followed by a loud thwack as the cane collided with her upturned behind.
Jojo blinked as the sharp stripe imploded through her central nervous system.
“Its only whops, its only whops,” she repeated over and over in her head.
The canes that Ms Lawton favored were hand-crafted from premium grade rattan. They were steamed and stretched before being saturated with a linseed oil compound for several weeks, then finally dried and varnished. The Grand Dame purchased her canes from the same workshop that had supplied the original Woody School and Susan Lawton could personally attest to the superior sting and smart that the thirty-six inch long canes could impart.
Jojo gritted her teeth as the cane sliced across her upturned buttocks. There was no question that the Beak was laying it on thick. The second stroke had landed millimeters below the first with the accuracy of a heat seeking missile, landing perfectly in the target area known as the sweet spot to the Woody Wags.
Despite her acute irritation Ms Lawton was a consummate professional. The Grand Dame did not allow her emotions get the better of her; she was determined to administer a good tight licking.
The Grand Dame caned hundreds of backsides every year and knew that precision and accuracy was the key to delivering a world-class whopping. She caned at a leisurely pace, allowing thirty seconds to elapse between strokes.
Jojo settled in to the rhythm of the caning, repeating her mantra over and over in her head and concentrating on staying in the zone. No matter how hard she was being whopped Jojo understood the importance of putting it up and keep it up. And, no matter how much it hurt she would never make a muff of herself by howling or blubbing.
Jojo’s rise to the pinnacle of the Hall of Shame had been truly spectacular. She had dedicated herself to a lifestyle of goofing, larking, japing and pranking and had displaced Woody legends like April Turner, Cat, Melons, Lady Vix and Claire Brooks as the undisputed All-Time Big BUTT. During the fourth year of her sentence Jojo Heyworth had crowned her achievements by becoming the first inmate to be punished fifty times in a single year, scoring what was known to the Woody Wags as ‘the Bull’. Miss Jojo Heyworth was more than ready and able to endure a world class whopping and keep on bopping.
Chapter 14
Miss Jojo Heyworth
When Jojo had first entered the facility she had been sporting a virgin arse. The school that she had attended had not practiced any form of physical discipline and the home she was raised in was a spank-free zone.
However, Jojo had not been altogether unfamiliar with the subject of corporal punishment. She was long-term chums with Nicola Jane Nixon and Claire Brooks. They had ridden together on numerous trophy winning equestrian teams and at the time of their sentencing they were all hotly tipped to star on the next Olympic team.
Nicola Jane and Claire had both attended boarding schools where corporal punishment was prevalent and often regaled Jojo with tales of their misdeeds and the painful consequences. On several occasions her team-mates had turned up for gymkhanas sporting angry weals across their backsides. It had occurred to Jojo that sporting a well-striped arse would probably make competitive horse-back riding a tad uncomfortable.
After leaving school, Jojo Heyworth and Nicola Jane Nixon had teamed up to establish a successful multi-media company. Jojo had produced a number of acclaimed alternative theatrical productions and her murals and sculptures had been shown at several West End Galleries. Nicola Jane, was the daughter of an internationally renowned film producer, and had followed in her father’s footsteps and begun to make a niche for herself shooting risqué videos for some of the hottest music acts in town. Many of the videos had featured Nicola Jane in a variety of spanking poses, including her being caned in her old school uniform.
Jojo had found her business partner’s predilections slightly curious. Nix had always been extremely vocal about her dislike of being caned at the various schools she had attended. She had been expelled from several for retaliating at being caned by hacking the Headmistresses in the shins. Ultimately she had ended up in reform school after she had fire- bombed the Headmistress’ car after being caned in front of her assembled school-mates. Nonetheless, Jojo rarely passed comment. After all Nicola Jane had always been a tad quirky and the videos sold like hot cakes.
Jojo and Nixdown were making out like bandits and the two chums quickly became the toast of the West End party circuit.
Unfortunately the height of their success coincided with another period of fiscal imprudence by the government. Faced with considerable criticism from the Great Unwashed the mandarins of spin were instructed to create a diversion. Bounties on the bumbags of Celebrity Ladettes were increased substantially.
Successful and entrepreneurial young females like Jojo and Nix made ideal targets for the Dark Agents of the System. The Celebrity Goon Squad monitored their every move and covertly photographed them as they left the hottest night-clubs in the Smoke.
Jojo and Nix were arrested on several occasions and hauled before disciplinary tribunals. They were charged with Misdemeanor Ladetting but even the System was forced to acknowledge that the evidence was fragile at best and they were released. However, the Dark Agents were not about to let a pair of substantial bounties go to waste and used their contacts in the conservative press to launch a series of scurrilous attacks on Jojo and Nix.
The blood-thirsty hacks from the right-wing rags denounced the two chums as degenerates and criticized their high-profile life-styles for influencing and encouraging the perpetuation of the Ladette movement. The accusations were ridiculous but the Great Unwashed is a fickle bunch and immediately demanded action.
As there were no actual charges to be brought against them the members of the System’s disciplinary council sat in-camera. Jojo and Nix were denied legal representation or the opportunity to defend themselves and were found guilty of ‘Conspiracy to promote anti-social Ladette behavior amongst the public at large’. They were sentenced to seven years at the Big House without the possibility of parole.
They were taken to a haberdasherers to be measured up. Within twenty-four hours Jojo and Nix found themselves immersed in the Woody world of Whops and Clobber.
Chapter 15
A Formal Draping
During her induction week at the facility Jojo was assigned a mentor from the Elite who was responsible for indoctrinating her in the labyrinthine of rules, regulations and protocols that would govern her new life. As part of her initiation she was subjected to a number of training spankings from her mentor, or ‘Personal Draper,’ as she was known. Jojo was taught the correct protocols for arranging herself into the traditional full drape and trained to put it up and keep it up throughout a spanking. She was instilled with the Woody creed that ‘only muffs howl’.
At night, after the long days of being mentored, the new inmates were locked up in a Spartan dormitory with twelve beds set up in two rows along the walls with no privacy. Invariably before the lights were turned out and the facility went into lockdown mode they would swap the intimate details of their daily training spankings and hypothesize over their futures in the austere environment that they had been so rudely thrust into.
It did not take long for Jojo to discover just how austere her new environment would prove to be. During the first formal week of term she became the first of the newbie’s to be formally draped. A relatively innocuous, but ill-advised, interjection into a geography lecture resulted in her being invited to step up before the form by Ms Wharton.
Jojo’s mentor had cautioned her about the Wart. Robin Wharton was a card-carrying member of the Radical Right of the Brass and a notorious tyrant. Jojo couldn’t help but notice the wolfish grin of glee on the Dame’s face as she sat down on a chair and patted her lap, indicating for her victim to go over and up.
Despite a feeling of trepidation and her slight embarrassment at being upended and turned head down, arse up in front of relative strangers Jojo gritted her teeth and toughed it out.
The Wart spanked Jojo slowly, working up one side of her bumbags and back down the other in series of three’s. All the while Ms Wharton kept up a running, and in Jojo’s view a wholly unnecessary, commentary.
Once she was finished the Wart post-processed the spanking and made the legendary first entry into the small red-covered Punishment Record Book that Jojo was required to carry at all times in the breast pocket of her blazer. Once this was completed she sent Jojo back to her desk, instructing her to climb up on to the seat of her chair and spend the remainder of the lecture with her hands cradled on top of her head.
Much to her surprise Jojo found herself at the center of attention amongst her new acquaintances and the subject of considerable admiration for her stoic behavior. Miss Joanna Heyworth had been formally inducted into the world of Whops and Clobber.
Life as a Little Brat could be tough. When they were not in the lecture rooms or in the hall completing assignments they were at the permanent disposal of their Personal Drapers. Every minute of free time was taken up with running errands, cleaning the prefect’s studies and performing other duties, known as ‘grubbing’ in Woody parlance.
Nonetheless Jojo found time to study Cathryn Cassidy’s subversive doctrine, ‘the Manifesto of Mega-minxdom’ and was an instant convert. Joanna and Nicola Jane quickly formed a bond with two other celebrity Ladettes, Debs Morton and Rosemary Booker. Like Jojo and Nix, Debs and Rosie had been stitched up like kippers by the Dark Agents of the System in pursuit of the huge bounties paid for diverting the Great Unwashed from the government’s numismatic buffoonery.
The four new chums soon began to get themselves spanked with record-breaking frequency. They were highly competitive, matching each other spank for spank and raising the bar for inventive goofing, japing, pranking and larking to an unprecedented standard.
Despite the tradition of alienating the Little Brats during their first year of incarceration and the cynical philosophy that grubbies should be seen and not heard, Jojo, Debs, Nixdown and Rosemary’s record-breaking exploits did not go unnoticed by the more seasoned inmates. They soon became known as ‘the Famous Four’ on the Woody gossvine. (To be Continued)
I hope you enjoyed the extract, if you want to learn more about the mega-minxes from the Woody Back to School Unit then cut along sharpish to the Woodettes Storefront and BUY 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.
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