Red-Hot New Woody Toon – Dangled in the Library

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A disclaimer from my beloved wife and muse …

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

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

 

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ow, you bitch,” squealed Ivan.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Suddenly Cassie Cassy burst breathlessly into the room.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not so fast,” drawled Cat.

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

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

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

“Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!!!” growled Yvonne.

Janet Mitchell burst into a renewed fit of tears.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Janet Mitchell burst into tears.

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

Deborah nodded firmly. “Yes Ma’am.”

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

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

“What are those?” demanded Ms Lawton.

“Testers,” said Katie.

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

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

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

“Good idea,” said Susan Lawton.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ms Lawton resisted the temptation to scratch her head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Every head turned to face Lady Vix.

“What the dickens,” muttered Jojo darkly.

“She can’t,” grumbled Nix.

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

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

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

An amused grin flickered across the Beaks lips.

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

The inmates gawked. Lady Vix narrowed her eyes.

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

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

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

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

Lady Vix was looking confused and suspicious.

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

Lady Vix scowled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Best of all, Lady Victoria, one of the most loved and admired gals at the facility was going to act as Red-shirt. The inmates of the Back to School unit whooped and clapped and stamped their feet.

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