The Headmistress demanded the janitor attended her study to explain his lack of cleaning while other areas like the girls’ dorms got his full attention. Calling him slovenly and lazy she was on the point of dismissing him from the job unless he agreed to come in on Sunday to clean her room from top to bottom. She demanded he took a weekly punishment, a good spanking and a strapping. “There’s no time like the present” she announced, sat on a chair in the middle of her study and spanked the living daylights out of him. “That’s the first part” she told him then bent him over her desk, trousers down for a strapping that had him howling from the first biting stroke. Pausing for effect, she slipped his underpants down for more of the same then let him go. Until Sunday.
For bunking off cross-country (yet again) Potter had to stay after school for a very long, very brutal reminder not to dawdle again. Over the caning stool she whipped his back hard (not a recognised school punishment but most effective). He started making pathetic pained sounds when she took some serious leather to his arse and he began to breathe deeply. She was going to take sadistic pleasure in this and happily assured him that after school there was no rush. The prison strap, swung with determination at full stretch is a terrifying experience, the blistering cracks reverberating round the room. The old leather crop is almost as frightening (swung as she does). Finally it was over the horse for the cane. There has to be a caning. She adores caning. By the time she was done his arse was crimson and striped.
Her nephew had gone to bed early to do some homework but was reading the racing paper when Aunty came in with his bedtime hot chocolate. He stuffed the paper under his pillow. She told him she wanted to change his sheets as she had heard him wanking the night before (which he denied) and found the paper. Then it was over her knee for a blistering spanking before making him take a revision book and lay face down on the bed. She took the belt to his bottom, hard, first on his pyjama bottoms then on his bare rear. Really cross about his gambling he got a right good dose of the plimsoll then she sat astride him. One stockinged thigh each side and hairbrushed him despite his flailing legs. “Have you learned your lesson?” she asked. “Yes Aunty, thank you” he blurted.