Debs Morton’s Wild Weekend – the Complete Story

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

Holy Smokin’ Jimjams – A Toon for the Pyjama Brigade

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

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

Putting the Finishing Touches to a Damn Good Spanking

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

The Finishing Touches

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So how was it?” she asked.

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

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

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

A Lesson in Spanking

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Finishing Touches – A Tantalizing Tease

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

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

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

A Woody Welcome to Love Our Lurkers Day 6

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

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

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

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

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

Spanking Roulette

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Spanked Until She Squeaked

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I looked fantastic?” she asked slowly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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