Milk and Plain

Looking at the two girls here tells me so much about the whole concept of attraction and our different personal and amatory needs. Both girls are painfully pretty but so different. One is dark, her hair in simple self effacing plaits, the other has hair stolen from the head of a toddler, a swirling halo of sunlit gold. Which of them is the most beautiful, the most desirable? All a matter of personal taste of course.

They are both so very much how I picture the two main females in Educating Anna it is uncanny. Anna is dark haired and dark eyed, an exceptionally beautiful virgin of eighteen with a head full of unrealised sexual fantasies. A brief and unexpected spanking from her gorgeous but exasperated tutor lights an erotic fire, and after an interval she goads him into doing it again and after that there is no turning back. After an intense few weeks of punishment and pleasure she sets out on a journey to explore all aspects of her burning sexuality.

Having come into a significant inheritance, Anna employs ‘Mouse’ as her personal maid and companion. Blonde, slight, and luminously pretty, Mouse looks as sweet and innocent as a Bambi greeting card but there is more to her than meets the eye. And of course she readily accepts Anna’s house rules. No matter how relaxed and affectionate their working relationship might be, if mistakes are made, then punishment follows and of course the inevitable making up.

 In one of the chapters Anna plaits her hair just like the girl in this picture to protect it from the wind when setting out on a journey in an ancient and open Rolls Royce, but there are certain unexpected consequences. When a dangerously attractive older man meets with her he assumes that she is younger than she actually is which sets off a chain of events both punitive and pleasurable.

Looking at the two girls above has brought so much of it back to me I might well go and read it again!

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A Midsummer Nights Scream. Dedicated to my lovely correspondents (You know who you are, even if you’ve not been mentioned by name!

Once upon a time in the swirly early hours of a midsummer morning Elizabeth turned over in her bed her bed, happy and horny and full of the aftermath of last night’s wicked dreams, never realising what was in store for her.

Outside in that surrealistic hour that is neither night nor morning her correspondents were lying in wait, circling her house and looking for cracks and crevices where they could slide into her mind and carry her off.

“I think I can see lots of places we can get in.” Said Amber with the uncanny vision of the female of the species. "Through the keyhole, down the chimney, and even the cat flap. As long as we don’t make any noise.”

And that’s what they did, creeping up on Elizabeth as she lay there in her warm soft bed, drunk with sleep and her breasts still rosy from the kisses they had been given by last night’s lover.

“We’ve come to teach you a lesson!” They said in union, Amber pinning her to her tumbled sheets while the others watched, their loins twitching with the glowing anticipation of watching her get her just deserts.

“But who are you?” Elizabeth answered, trying to pull up the sheets so they could not see the unmistakable marks of her lover’s midnight attentions, nor that she could not fully shake off the squirmy and spermy mood she had woken with.

“We are your correspondents and your conscience.” They replied, stripping off the sheets to get a good look at the reality of her nakedness. “We have come to take you back to school to learn about good manners and the importance of writing thank you letters.”

“But I'm much to grown up for school!” Elizabeth answered, wondering why James was taking a photograph of her and Joey Red was gently stroking the tip of his exposed and very excited member.

“Never to old to learn!” Sir Stephen answered, flexing a long swishy cane as if he couldn’t wait for an excuse to use it. His words struck an immediate chord in Elizabeth’s brains as time and again in the past one or other of her lovers would say that to her, and then before she knew it, she would find her self over his knee with her knickers being dragged down.

 “But anyway,” She went on, determined to be brave even as one of them threw her over his shoulder and started to carry her out of the room,

“How can you get me to school in the middle of the night?”

“Easy!” They answered. “Through the doorway in our imaginations.” And seconds later Elizabeth found herself and her correspondents flying through time and space, their bodies weightless as they whirled and turned in the air, and moments later she landed in the admissions room of a school from long ago. Her correspondents could not be seen but she knew that they were there, watching her every move with gleeful anticipation She was surrounded with girls like her with packed suitcases, shiny and new and all dressed for their first day at school.

“What are you all doing here? ” Elizabeth asked and they told her that they were here to be taught a lesson. “Don’t think that you are the only girl they fantasise about Elizabeth. The things they have imagined for us you could scarcely believe.”

“Oh dear!” Said Elizabeth who had could believe it all to well. “I don’t like the sound of that. But why would my correspondents want to teach me a lesson? They love me, don’t they?"

 “You always hurt the one you love.” One of the girls answered. “Don’t you know anything.” Elizabeth did sort of know that, but she didn’t want to think about its implications too much. “You’d better go and see the Admissions Mistress.” They told her. “Or you’ll be in trouble.” So Elizabeth nervously knocked and on the door that they had pointed at and was called in.

“I’m Elizabeth.” She said. “But despite how I might look right now, I’m not a schoolgirl and I’m most certainly not blonde.”

“There’s one good way to check on that.” Said the mistress I want you to take all your clothes off.”

“But….” Elizabeth started to say, determined to keep her dignity, but it was already too late. Without taking off a single garment she was standing there completely naked and suddenly she knew that everything that happened here was controlled by the correspondents and she was at the beck and call of whatever they imagined for her.

“Hmm!” Said the Admissions Mistress administering a sharp slap to Elizabeth’s bottom for no other reason than she felt like it. “If you’ve got no pubic hair, how can I possibly tell if you are blonde or not. Off you go and see Matron. And don’t forget to put some clothes on first. Matron will make sure that you are in good health and of course check to see if you are a virgin.”

“But I’m not a schoolgirl!” Said Elizabeth “And I’m most certainly not ….” But the mistress just gave her another slap on the bottom so off she went to see Matron.

“Right. I’m in a bit of a hurry.” Said Matron. “So many girls to check out I’m running out of time . Those correspondents are keeping me very busy tonight, their imaginations are running riot. Let’s have a look at you shall we.” And then she pulled the hem of Elizabeth’s dress right up to her waist. “As I thought. Same as all those other young strumpets they’ve sent to me. Not wearing any knickers.” Elizabeth had dressed so quickly that somehow she had forgotten to put them on.

“The thing is…” She started to say, but Matron was already pulling her over knee. “You can guess what the punishment is for not wearing knickers can’t you.” Elizabeth didn’t have to guess as she was already in receipt of it, Matron’s big meaty hand was spanking her bare bottom with the unmistakable enthusiasm of the committed disciplinarian. Elizabeth struggled and wriggled but the correspondents had clearly determined that escape was impossible.

“You girls are all the same.” Matron said. “No knickers and no morals, and never remembering to send thank you notes. And I bet you’re not a virgin are you?”

“Of course I’m not,” Said Elizabeth wriggling like a fish and wondering how she had got herself to be in a situation like this. “But much more importantly I’m not a blonde ether. I wish you would all understand that!” But Matron only spanked her harder. “You’ve got to understand, the correspondents control everything , even your hair colour. If your lucky, in the next picture you might be dark.”

And across the ether Elizabeth heard the unmistakable growl of their satisfaction as they watched her soft vulnerable flesh go from pink to crimson under Matron’s hand. “Anyway.” Matron said “They want a change of tempo now. Off you go and check in with the Headmaster before the days lessons start. They really love it when the girls do that.

 “Good morning.” Said the Headmaster, his eyes glowering at Elizabeth across the room. “You’re Elizabeth aren’t you. I’ve always wanted to meet you in the flesh.” “Have you, Sir?” Said Elizabeth a little thrown by his appearance. “Somehow she had not expected a Headmaster to look like this. “You’re ….” “Naked?” Said the Headmaster. “That’s right. I like to be good and ready for any situation that might arise when you girls pay me a visit.”

“And ….” Elizabeth meant to say that he had an erection but she forgot herself “You’ve got a really big fat stiffy!” She wondered if she might ask if she could give him a helping hand with it but thought that that might get her into even more trouble.

 “Of course I’ve got a stiffy.” He said. “It’s the correspondent's fault. They love to imagine me giving all those naughty young girls they send to me a good long spanking over my knee, and as a result I end up like this. They all love the idea of you girls being sent to me to be punished.” And he paused, his eyes glowing and his member positively pulsing as he spoke. “Especially you, Elizabeth. Especially you. Right now they all have this picture in their minds of you dressed as you are now in a schoolgirl’s uniform pinned and helpless across my knee. I’ve pulled your knickers right off and I’m spanking you really hard and it really hurts. I want you to picture it too Elizabeth as I rather think it’s your destiny and it’s only a matter of time before it happens.”

And Elizabeth could see it in her mind and she could even feel his horny hand on her flesh as he spanked and spanked her naughtiness way. It was painful and humiliating, but she knew that deserved it for all the wicked thing she was always doing, and at least they had at last got her dark hair right.

Clearly the Headmaster had no problem visualising it too as his erection was even bigger than when she first walked in and she wondered if it was going to simply burst in it’s excitement.

“But what about Amber and all my other female correspondents?” Asked Elizabeth nervously, “I suppose…”

And suddenly as things do in the twilight world, the Headmaster had changed in front of her eyes and was now someone else entirely, a dominant female with needs of her own .

“They have fantasies too,” This person said. “Similar but not exactly the same. Some of them want to spank you,”

“Some of them want to watch you being spanked,”

 Some of them want to make love to you ,

“And of course a lot of them ………”

And suddenly the whole kaleidoscope of Elizabeth’s thoughts started to whirl together in her mind in a heady cocktail of sensory overload, her loins moistening as she tried to accommodate it all.

Being punished,

Being pleasured
Giving pleasure

and of course pleasuring herself which is what she found herself doing as she came awake in a fever of arousal.

“Hmm!” She thought as she snuggled into her sheets that were strangely sticky. “I hope they all come and visit me again tonight…..”
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Spanking Elizabeth (She asked for it!)

I suppose that having expressed certain opinions in my last posting I will have to take the consequences. No doubt you are all feeling a little cross and resentful of Elizabeth. Maybe harbouring fantasies about getting your own back, punishing me for getting a bit above myself.

Maybe what you’d like to do is to take me off some where secret and private and teach me some manners in that old fashioned way that has never been improved on.

“You’re going to be spanked Elizabeth. Thoroughly spanked.” You tell me and then make me wait, bent over a table wondering just how sorry you are going to make me.
Or maybe you’d prefer to have me kneel on the bed, bottom up thrust and all ready for whatever you have in mind for me.
Maybe you might tether me on a chain so I know that escape is out of the question.
Or have me tied and blindfolded, not knowing just how many of you there are.
There will be no getting out of it. I’m going to be punished so I might as well accept the fact. Very soon you’ll have me across your knee,
My knickers humiliatingly pulled down while you spank some manners into the ungrateful little brat that Elizabeth seems to be turning into.
And of course you’ll take your time over it to ensure I really learn my lesson.

Glorying in at last having my young vulnerable bottom bare and helpless under your punishing hand.
Maybe while you’ve got the opportunity even giving me a dose of the cane which you know is my worst fear ,
Or even , having at lost got me helpless and at your mercy you might have something even more dreadful in mind for me…….
Dear me! I’ve just got to stop fantasising like this. I enjoy it far too much! ;
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Hell Hath No Fury Like A Woman Scorned!

Chross Blogt, that Encyclopaedia Britannica of the smacked bottom was kind enough to give one of my recent postings a mention on Friday as a result of which between Friday and Sunday my blog got no less than 9, 750 page views. Whoopee Do and Goody Goody Gums Drops! What more could a girl ask for?

And with all these hood eyed connoisseurs of erudite erotica drooling over my naughty prose and naughtier pictures , what floods of pithy comments did I receive, what avalanches of Bon Mots and mini literary gems? Exactly none!

Now leaving aside the odd occasion when I might find it necessary to give one of my occasional female lovers the sort of modest lesson that is best administered across the knee, I’m not a girl who goes in for being any sort of Dominatrix, but unless a little more effort is made out there I might find I have to start changing my ways! Leaving aside my wonderful collection of discerning regulars, (This dos not apply to you) I have to say that a little more effort will have to be made or Elizabeth might just get cross with you.

And you wouldn’t want that, would you?
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Getting steamed up!

Sometimes on a really hot sunny day , its good to take a bath outside in the privacy of your garden, lathering away and thinking steamy thoughts of lovers and others, and maybe, just maybe, such a person might suddenly wander in through the garden gate and find you there, naked and soapy and as beautiful as he remembered you.

Well, as a well brought up girl with the lessons that aunty taught you about hospitality and sharing still firmly in your mind, it would only be polite to make him welcome and invite him in,

And being only human, and the both of you being full of the joys of the hot day and the pleasure at seeing each other after all this time, it’s quite possible that the two of you might get a little carried away and get more lathered up than you had intended.

Which is fine of course,

Unless your husband suddenly appears!

Should that be the case, then you may well have to take the consequences.

This of course could be a bit of a problem for you in the future as your husband might discover that spanking your wet soapy bottom is the best fun he’s had for a while and he’ll be looking for excuses to do it again.

But right now giving you a good spanking has put him in such a good mood that he’s prepared to be nice to you, and for example help you wash away all your earlier naughtiness ,

And in return, well what else could you possibly do but to repay the favour , washing certain bits of him so thoroughly that suddenly there is so much white foamy lather in the bath that well, the two of you might just have to rise off and start all over again!

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Your best friend is telling on you!

Shh! Sorry guys, but your secret is out, not that it was much of a secret anyway.

You see, we girls have heard it all before, dozens of times and there’s nothing original about it. It’s in dozens of books and comics from way back,

and certainly all those cheesy films from the forties and fifties where they find a flimsy excuse for some wriggling squealing girl to be given an on screen spanking.

How does it go? Oh yes,

“I’m only doing this for your own good.” Yeah, right! Or,

“It seems I have absolutely no choice but to put you across my knee……” And what’s that other one?

“If you’d been spanked as a child when you should have been, I wouldn’t be having to do this now.”

Yes, you all know what I’m talking about, the fiction that when a man, particularly a man of a certain generation, exposes a pretty young girl’s nether parts so he can give her a good spanking , he’s only doing it out of a deep seated sense of duty.

But why else would you? You are all sensible serious men with important things to think about, and quite frankly having to pull our knickers down, fondle our naked thighs and bottoms while you purr that regrettably we might have to be in this undignified position for quite some time, is frankly a bit of a nuisance for you.

But you see, you do give rather a lot away when, for example, you take us out specifically to buy a really short dress and then make us pose for you in it in our highest heels,

And then spank us for being provocative little madams.

And it was you who bought us that really horny underwear,

so why do you then spank us for dressing like whores when we put it on for you?

And why, having been told that regrettably we have to be spanked, is it necessary for us to go upstairs first and dress up as schoolgirls,

Making sure of course not to forget the stockings and high heels.

And strange that so often you insist that we have to wait for our punishment with our bare bottoms posed and out thrust at the most becoming angle.

But no more strange than finding that during those lascivious pauses you take to remind us what naughty little girls we are and that it’s only out of kindness that you’re not spanking us even harder , that you have been progressively stripping us so we often end up completely naked.

You see, the whole time your best friend has been giving you away! Inside your pants, and don’t be shocked that we know about this, but some of us got an A in Biology at a school, is something called a willy. (I think there is a Latin word for it, but I can’t remember it now.)

When you suddenly find yourself in the mood for some bedroom romps, however much you try and disguise it with your stern face and serious words, your willy is telling us everything we need to know by going all big and stiff and hard. Yes honestly! And when you’ve got us bent and bared to be spanked, time and again we can feel it pulsing and jerking against us.

And when you go all school masterish on us and tell us that no matter how reluctant you are to have to do it, but we simply have to be spanked and there’s no way round it,

the fact that your willy is straining with anticipation is so obvious to us, you might just as well have got it out and pointed it at us.

Yes, sorry to have to tell you but even on those occasions when we really deserve it, we know that you only spank us because it makes you horny. But the thing is, and this is another secret that everybody knows, is that of course we love it, at least quite lot of us do, and wouldn’t have you any other way!

And if a good hard spanking on our bare bottom,

is followed by a good hard, well you know what,

Then everybody is happy!

And now it’s time for my confession. As a female who enjoys occasional commerce with the cloven as well as the crested, yes sometimes I find that, reluctantly of course, I have no choice but to exercise a little discipline.

and of course I say exactly the same things that you men do on these occasions.

“So sorry, Wendy, but you understand I’m going to have to spank you. For your own good of course!” And it’s strange that I’m more likely to find it necessary to take Wendy or whoever over my knee when she just happens to be wearing something sweetly revealing ,

or even her old school uniform she conveniently remembered to pack that weekend.

But, sorry guys, being female I can get away with it because I don’t have an ever hungry cock (yes that’s the Latin word for it, I remember it now) getting big and stiff inside my silky panties and giving away all my secrets. My best friend simply weeps quietly with compassion for the poor half naked girl over my knee whose knickers I am gently pulling down.
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