As I have mentioned in earlier posts RH is a great admirer of spanking cartoonists. I noticed that several sites including Laurent over at Le journal de la fessee have been posting examples of the brilliant work of the talented artist David Ell.
The cartoons feature the spanking adventures of the wonderful Sammy Simpkins and a slideshow of the complete collection of the works can be viewed at this link to David Ell’s web-shot page which is definitely worth a rummage.
Sometimes I find an extract from the Woody Back to School Unit saga that I think would be ideally suited for a six to eight panel cartoon but as I have difficulty drawing the curtains I would have to commission the work. I’ll think about that. Anyway in the mean time I think that this extract from Volume 35 – Flogging the Red-shirt might conjure up some cartoon graphics in your imagination. Enjoy!
Debs morosely pressed her nose to the bedroom wall and linked her fingers on top of her head. She had been being entirely truthful when she had told Ma that despite her new found penchant for pain she was not in the least bit enamored with the domestic discipline arrangements at Chez Morton. Debs couldn’t deny that she thoroughly deserved to be spanked but the prospect of a second trip across Penny Morton’s lap in the space of ten days did not thrill her in the least.
Earlier in the day Debs had taken a trip up to the Smoke where she had met up with Rosemary for lunch in a discrete bistro. Rosemary had just returned from a week long sojourn to a country cottage with her lover, the Silver Fox. She was keen to share her adventures with Debs.
Debs listened with a mixture of curiosity and amusement as her best chum regaled her with her tales of the debauched vacation. Rosemary was a curious cove in some ways. She had always bewildered her chums with her apparent insouciance to whops and her admirable gift of seeming to be impervious to pain.
Debs had always been envious of her chum’s inexplicable trait. Deborah had been on the wrong end of the cane for almost a decade and a half and every single stroke had caused her considerable gyp.
However, during the Great Spank-off Rosemary had experienced an unfortunate epiphany. During her epic bout against Claire Brooks she had suddenly been over-whelmed by an unexpected wave of pain. As a result of this disconcerting revelation Rosemary had become extremely reticent about putting her bumbags in the way of fast moving canes.
Nonetheless as best as Debs could tell Rosemary had willingly spent her whole vacation sporting a freshly-reddened rear end.
“Considering your avoid whops at all costs strategy it seems rather a rum way to spend your hols,” Debs teased her chum.
“He’s quite the obsessive sort,” sighed Rosemary. “I let him give me a damn good dusting on the first night and then there was no holding him back.”
Debs eyes twinkled, “But did you enjoy yourself?” she asked.
Rosemary grinned. “Hey do I look like a gal who lets a sore bum get in the way of having a good time? So how’s your furlough been?”
“Quiet,” said Debs. “I’m training hard and just hanging with Ma. She likes to lunch.” She looked at her watch. “Oh shit, look at the time. I promised I’d pick up supplies for her gin rummy night. She’s going to be furious.”
Rosemary giggled. “You gonna get another spanking?”
Debs frowned. “I hope not,” she said seriously. “Ma spanks hard!”
“I’m the house-guest not the house-servant,” said Debs poutily when he mother chided her over her late appearance and instantly regretted it.
Her mother raised an eyebrow. “I don’t mind a disagreement Deborah but I will not have you sass me under my own roof,” Penny said irritably.
Debs scowled and turned away. “If you want to hear some sassing I could show you some sassing,” she muttered under her breath.
“Deborah Morton!” her mother snapped. “I heard that!”
Penny Morton had spent a year serving as the Red-shirt at the original Woody School. She had developed an acute ear for picking up the disgruntled mutterings of gals she had just scolded.
“I think you’d better go up to your bedroom,” she said curtly.
Debs pouted again. “Aw Ma, we haven’t got time for this, we need to get everything ready before your guests arrive,” she grumbled.
“We have plenty of time Deborah. Due to your thoughtless tardiness I arranged for caterers,” said Penny. “Now cut along sharpish.”
“Aw Ma,” groaned Debs and trudged towards the stairs.
Debs heard the doorbell ring and felt her spirits perk. The guests were early. She grinned to herself. At least she would get a reprieve until later in the evening. If she behaved herself and was witty and charming she was sure her mother would forget all about being irritated.
After a few minutes she heard her mother’s footsteps on the stairs.
“Come over here, Deborah,” snapped Penny Morton as she retrieved a straight-backed chair from the corner of the room.
Debs turned away from the wall and gaped at her mother.
“Aw no Ma, you wouldn’t,” she spluttered.
“Oh yes I would,” said Penny Morton and took Debs firmly by the wrist. “I will not have you sassing me,” she said sternly as she marched Debs towards the chair.
“Please Ma,” pleaded Debs as Penny Morton sat herself down in the chair. “Can’t this wait?”
“No it can’t Deborah,” said Penny as she dumped her daughter over her knee. “Now spread yourself out properly and try not to make a fool of yourself.”
Deborah was furious but she shuffled into position. Despite the ignominy of knowing the neighbors were downstairs in the living room she resolutely put her bum up and resolved to keep it up.
She knew what to expect, twelve slow, methodical spanks before she would be thrust forward and zinged.
Debs cringed as the unforgiving hairbrush slapped down. The sound echoed in her ears. There was no question that despite the bedroom door being firmly closed the sounds of wood rebounding off naked flesh would be resounding all over the house.
Ma spanked fast. Twelve full-bloodied spanks that caused Deborah’s teeth to chatter and her nerve-endings to jangle. Her face was contorted into a permanent silent howl as the heat in her rear end almost over-whelmed her. She could only barely refrain from opening up her vocal chords and bringing the rafters down.
“Stay down,” her mother had instructed her, “I’m going to zing you,” and with that she had brought three explosive cracks down on Deborah’s right buttock in a fierce flurry.
Red faced and red arsed Debs had pulled up her bumbags and smoothed down her skirt. She was livid at her mother.
“I hope that was a lesson to you,” said Ma Morton.
“Didn’t hurt,” muttered Debs belligerently.
“What did you say?” snapped Penny.
“Nothing,” grunted Debs.
“Nooooooooooo!” wailed Debs. “Please Ma!” as she was yanked towards the door. “It did hurt! It hurt plenty! Please, nooooooooo!”.
“You know my daughter Deborah don’t you?” Ma announced as she marched Debs across to an armchair. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting but I have some pressing business to attend to.”
Deborah desperately tried to struggle free but her mother had her pinned face downwards with her nose only inches from the pile carpet. She kicked and struggled as the skirt of her gymslip was turned back and then she howled plaintively as she felt her mother’s fingers in the waistband of her bumbags.
Deborah Morton did not have much time to ruminate on the indignity of being spanked in front of the neighbors. The oval head of the hairbrush cracked down on her already ripened orbs sending her into paroxysms of anguished kicking. With her backside already as hot as Hades the second onslaught was devastatingly effective. Whop hardened though she was Deborah Morton was unable to restrain herself from providing ample evidence to the startled onlookers that she was feeling the heat.
Like Deborah, Penny Morton had been a top ranked tennis player and she still kept in shape. Oblivious to her daughter’s gymnastic performance in her lap she kept Debs pinned down and let rip with a blistering salvo.
Deborah kicked her legs helplessly and drummed her fists on the carpet and spank after spank rained down. Her bottom felt like it had swollen up to the size of a pair of watermelons and every smack of the brush set her nerve endings jangling and her tear ducts on fire.
Her mother put her hand on the back of her neck and pushed downward. Deborah’s nose was literally buried in the carpet.
“Stay still,” her mother snapped, “I’m going to double zing you!”
Deborah’s hapless howl was drowned out by the explosive cracks of wood meeting flesh. Three fierce spanks on her right cheek followed by three more on the left.
Deborah lay panting across her mother’s lap. She was sure she’d been spanked harder in her illustrious career but she couldn’t remember when. Her mother rearranged her clothing and helped her to her feet.
“Perhaps you’ll feel less like sassing me in the future,” she scolded as Debs trudged from the room.
Deborah Morton returned to her room to resume the thirty-minute nose and toes that her mother insisted upon following a zinging. With her backside as a throbbing reminder Debs had plenty of time to contemplate the wisdom of sassing Ma Morton.
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.