A Visit To Miss Manson After School - Part One free porn video

Unlike my initial thoughts, finding Miss Manson after twenty-eight years had not been difficult. All it seemed to take was a Facebook message that my friend had found and then a Google search. Turned out that my ex-History Mistress and the lady who had smacked my bottom five times in after school detention, was still doing what I had heard she was, and Google had revealed exactly where she was based. I had managed to find an address for her goat farm on the internet and had even driven up there, too nervous to go up to her front door and ring the doorbell.

On my return home from her farm, I had spent days thinking about what I could do. I knew that I wanted to re-visit my school days with her and could barely think about anything else but being told to take my clothes off and then to position myself across her knees for a spanking. After a week or so, I found myself sitting in my living room writing a letter to Miss Manson, explaining why I was writing and telling her what an impact her detentions had had on me all those years before. I finished my letter asking if she would perhaps consider meeting me for a chat to talk about the past and by enclosing my phone number and email address.

I posted the letter to Pauline three days later and thought nothing more about it. Several weeks had passed and I was beginning to think that I had embarrassed myself by admitting to my teacher that I had enjoyed being punished by her and needed it as part of my life when I was taken by surprise by a message in my inbox. Initially, I was shocked and sat there for a while staring at the message. It was entitled “How are you?” I was shocked and a little excited to see that it was from Pauline Manson. After a few more moments contemplating whether or not I should just delete the message and forget about it, I found myself clicking on it and taking a deep breath as it opened.

Hello Peter,

How are you?

I must admit that it took me a little while to realise who had sent me that lovely letter a few weeks ago but once I had remembered, I wanted to reply to you. I am glad that after leaving school that things worked out well for you.

I retired from the school four years after you left and taking early retirement (or being forced to!) has been the best thing that could have happened to me. I was very unhappy teaching mainly ungrateful students who would not try in lessons. It was a rare occasion that I actually came across a student, such as yourself, who was genuinely interested and would try their best in lessons. Doing what I do now is so much better for my health and is what I have always wanted to do – I love every day and finally enjoy life.

I am glad that I had such an impact on you, and that you turned out to be what seems to be a very well-adjusted young man. I think placing you in detention was not supposed to make you actually enjoy it or need it as part of your life. However, I know how much trouble I could have got into had you reported our “detentions” to the Head Mistress, so I am grateful to you for keeping it as our little secret. I have no idea why I spanked you (you were always impeccably well behaved and did all your work!) but must admit that I enjoyed the feeling of power that having you over my lap gave me.

I feel I must apologise for our last meeting as I never intended to hit you so hard with the clothes brush but obviously it has given you a lasting memory as I intended it to do. I am also so sorry that I sent you away afterwards – I was aware that there were other people around so after I had unlocked my classroom I wanted you to go in case someone caught us. Ideally, I wanted to give you a cuddle and kiss you for taking your punishment and to say that I was sorry for having to spank you with my nasty brush.

Of course I would love to chat to you and perhaps we could arrange to meet up sometime for a coffee. I do live in quite a remote and isolated place these days, but it would be lovely to meet you and see how you have developed over the years. I think asking me to smack your bottom may be beyond me these days, but perhaps, if we both feel it would be beneficial, then I’m sure I could arrange something for you. I do owe you a lot for keeping quiet when you were younger.

Anyway, I hope that this email finds you well and look forward to your reply.

Kind regards,

Pauline (Miss Manson)

Pauline Manson had enclosed her mobile telephone number and I now had her email address. I read and re-read the message, feeling my erection grow in my trousers at the thought. I would give myself some time to think about how to reply before responding. I closed down my laptop and went upstairs, soon finding myself on my bed, trousers and underpants around my ankles, masturbating at the thought of my History Mistress in her short-sleeved white blouse, red cardigan and knee-length grey skirt.

The following evening I replied to Pauline’s email and we began a month of emailing and texting one another. I was still too nervous to actually speak to my History Mistress over the telephone, but she seemed to understand. Eventually, it was Miss Manson who suggested that we should actually meet face-to-face. Although she felt unable to give me the over-the-knee hand spanking that I craved, she assured me that I would receive the exact punishment that I had described to her in emails and by text. Pauline Manson also explained to me what she expected in return for punishing me and I quickly agreed to her terms.

We agreed to meet one Saturday afternoon three weeks away and the day soon arrived.

That Saturday I tried to keep myself busy in order to stop myself thinking about what was coming my way later that day. The day dragged on but eventually the clock ticked round to 4pm. I showered, dressed in shirt and trousers that resembled my old school uniform and once satisfied that I really wanted to be punished by Miss, I drove the relatively short distance to her farm. This time I drove up her driveway and parked next to her car. I checked that I had everything before getting out of my car, locking the door and walking the few steps to Pauline’s front door.

I smiled as I pressed the doorbell and waited.

After about a minute or so, I considered ringing the bell once again but resisted as I saw a figure approaching the door through the small pane of frosted glass. I took a deep breath as I heard the key turn in the lock and the door being pulled open slowly. Within a moment, I was face-to-face with my old History Mistress after twenty-eight years. We both stood in silence, looking at one another for a few moments before Pauline Manson spoke.

“Hello, Peter. Nice to see you after all these years. Won’t you come in?” She smiled.

I continued to look at her for a moment. She was dressed just as I had described to her in my emails and text messages and still looked good after all those years. I could feel my cock growing hard as I thought about Pauline dressed in her short-sleeved white cotton blouse and knee-length black skirt.

“Thank you, Miss,” I replied quietly.

Miss Manson stepped back from the door and allowed me inside. I took a few steps down the hallway before pausing and turning to watch the older woman close the front door and lock it with her key.

“Why don’t we go through to the living room and we can have a chat?” The lady with the short dark hair smiled and indicated with her right hand.

“And today it’s Auntie Pauline, Peter. Just like we discussed in our emails. Do you understand, young man?”

I smiled and nodded nervously as my ex-teacher closed the distance between us as she headed into the living room.

“Yes, Auntie Pauline. I’m sorry, Auntie Pauline,” I spat out.

Pauline Manson laughed as I walked into her living room and she invited me to sit on her sofa.

“You will be sorry, Peter. I can assure you of that, young man.” She sat down and looked up at me.

“I do not take kindly to being asked to spank people, but if you are so insistent on being spanked then I will ensure that you are given a spanking to remember. Now – sit down, boy!” She raised her voice slightly and smiled.

After a few minutes of general chat where we both talked about what we had been up to since I had left school and since Pauline had retired, the conversation turned towards my punishment.

“Right, Peter. I am going to tell you what I will do to you this afternoon.” Miss Manson shuffled around on the sofa until she was sitting as close as she possibly could to my left-hand side.

“Now, like I have explained to you, I am unable to spank you very hard with my hand and because it is important to you that you receive a thorough hand spanking, I have arranged for two of my nieces – Kirsty and Elaine – to join us and they will administer that part of your punishment.”

“Thank you, Auntie Pauline.” I smiled awkwardly, aware that my cock was throbbing in my trousers.

“Kirsty is the Head Mistress at the local Girls’ Reformatory and Elaine is a Deputy Head Mistress at a school so each of them knows exactly how to deal with a naughty bottom.” Pauline took my left hand in her right and squeezed it gently.

“All my other nieces can spank too – even Alison, who is a housewife has had plenty of experience in spanking her three daughters to keep them in line!” She laughed.

“Perhaps if this goes well and you like what we do, then perhaps if we see one another again you will get to meet my other nieces.” She looked into my eyes.

“Yes, Miss. I mean Auntie.” I smiled nervously.

“Good. Once the ladies have warmed your bottom for me, then we’ll re-enact our detentions so you will feel the clothes brush and some other implements too.” Pauline nodded as she noticed that I was looking at her small breasts that stood out underneath her white blouse.

“I have asked the ladies if they will wear blouses and skirts as I know you enjoy that.”

“Thank you, Auntie Pauline.” I continued to think about the hard-on in my underpants.

Pauline Manson noticed that too and took her right hand, that had been holding my left hand, and ran it slowly over the bulge in my trousers.

“I really would get rid of that before Elaine sees it, otherwise she will spank your bottom red raw.” She continued to run her hand over my crotch.

“After you have been hand spanked and smacked with the clothes brush, I thought that I would use the slipper, strap, wooden paddle and of course, the cane, if that’s okay with you, naughty boy?” Her hand came to rest over my cock.

“Yes, Auntie Pauline. That would be nice,” I gasped as she continued to stroke my cock through my trousers.

“Lovely. Then I suggest that we get started, young man.” Miss Manson stopped touching my cock and got to her feet.

“Right. I want you to take off your clothes – everything off, Peter, and place them neatly on the armchair there.” She pointed with her right hand.

I nodded.

“Once you are stripped, I want you to stand in the corner next to the chair and face the wall with your hands on your head. You will push your nose hard up against the wall and then think about why you are going to be punished and why that punishment is going to be a prolonged punishment. Do you understand me, you naughty young man?” Pauline Manson touched her breasts through her white blouse.

“Yes, Auntie Pauline,” I replied as I got to my feet and towered over the older woman.

“While you’re thinking about how naughty you have been, I’m going to sort the animals out and make sure everything is locked up for the night and by the time I’m done, your Auntie Elaine and Auntie Kirsty should be here, and we can get started.”

Pauline Manson leaned in close and I stooped down so that she could kiss me gently on my lips.

“And once they’ve gone home, Peter, I’ll send you to bed, where you can show me how sorry you are for making me smack your bottom,” Pauline purred as she kissed me once again.

I took the opportunity to place my left hand on her back, smiling as I felt the soft material of her short-sleeved white blouse. I had longed to do that for years whilst she was my teacher and pushed my luck by slipping my hand down, so it rested on her bottom, which was covered by her black skirt. Pauline Manson did not seem to mind, and we stood for a few moments, touching and taking in the sweet smell of one another. I stood there, wanting to put my hands around the older woman’s small breasts which poked out under the white blouse she was wearing. Pauline eventually moved away and walked over to the doorway where she stood and stared at me.

“Right. Strip, young man. And then in that corner with your hands on your head – nose touching the wall!” she instructed sternly.

I wanted to laugh but knew that my punishment was for real and not just a play spanking. The imminent arrival of her nieces, Elaine and Kirsty, also made me extremely nervous. What would they be like? How hard would they punish me? All manner of questions began to rush around inside my head as I stood there staring at Miss Manson. After a few moments, I slowly began to remove my clothing as I had been instructed to do. On seeing that I was carrying out her instructions, the retired teacher walked into the hallway and went to tend to her goats.

As I stood in Pauline’s living room alone I began to grow increasingly nervous. The punishments that I had received from the sweet-looking lady at school had hurt and now here I was, asking her to give me a repeat performance, aided by her younger nieces, who probably had more experience of administering corporal punishment than Pauline had herself and, by the sound of it, to a much more severe level. I sighed heavily as I unbuttoned my shirt and took it off, placing it on the arm of the chair. Next, I sat on the seat and bent down to remove my shoes and socks, which I placed to the side and out of the way. I stood and removed my trousers, which I stepped out of and placed carefully on top of my shirt on the chair.

After a few deep breaths, I slipped my hands down the sides of my boxer shorts and pushed them down so that eventually they fell to the floor. I stepped out of them, picked them up and folded them before placing them on top of my pile of clothes. I closed my eyes as I realised that I had a hard-on and would struggle to get rid of it by the time my punishment began. I shook my head and moved into the corner like I had been instructed to do by Miss Manson, placed my hands flat on my head and carefully pushed my nose against the painted wall so that it touched the cold brick.

I stood and waited.

I tried to think about other things as I waited for Pauline to return. Partly to help me lose my erection and partly to take away my nerves. After a while I heard a car arrive and then turn its engine off, the doors closing as Elaine and Kirsty got out. There was to be no getting out of this. I found myself thinking about what I promised Pauline in return for my spanking and this caused my cock to become solid once more. I realised that I had my watch on my wrist and took a quick look – 5.35pm. I had been standing in the corner for about twenty minutes. It wouldn’t be long now until my ex-History Mistress and her nieces walked into the room to begin my punishment.

I had just returned my full attention to the wall, pushing my nose against it when I heard a door close and voices becoming louder and louder as the ladies made their way through Pauline’s house, eventually making their way into the living room where I was stood, nose up against the wall and bottom on show. The women said nothing to me, instead sitting down on the sofa and Pauline’s other armchair across from where I stood. They chatted amongst themselves for a few minutes before Pauline turned her attention to the job in hand.

“Peter. Turn around and come and stand in front of the sofa,” she instructed firmly.

I hesitated for a moment, conscious that I still had an erection, but slowly turned, took my hands from my head and walked over to where Kirsty and Elaine were sitting on Pauline’s sofa. I tried not to smile at them, but they were, just as Pauline had described, strict looking ladies, both wearing long-sleeved white blouses, black skirts, shiny black shoes and dark stockings. I placed my hands behind my back and tried not to look at them, my cock pointing proudly at them.

“Oh, dear. Looks like you haven’t heeded my warning about erections and Auntie Elaine’s dislike of naughty boys who enjoy being spanked.” Pauline laughed.

“Well, ladies. This is Peter, who I’ve told you about. Seems that the spankings I gave him at school were so memorable that he couldn’t forget them and wanted to re-visit his school experiences with me,” she continued.

Pauline got up from her armchair and walked across to me until she was standing at my left-hand side. She began gently stroking my hard cock with her right hand.

“You really will lose that by the time we’re through with you this afternoon, young man,” she whispered.

Kirsty got to her feet and looked at her cousin Elaine, who shuffled into the middle of Pauline’s sofa. The slim, blonde-haired Deputy Head Mistress adjusted the sleeves on her white cotton blouse and licked her lips.

“Very well. It’s time to show you, Peter, that I will not tolerate naughty young men masturbating at the thought of being spanked.” Pauline’s hand continued to stroke my throbbing cock.

“Also that I am disgusted that you get turned on at the thought of me. I am your teacher, after all.” Miss Manson looked at Kirsty and then at Elaine.

“Bad, bad boy!” she purred.

The sweet smell of Pauline Manson’s perfume was really turning me on and all I wanted to do was take her in my arms and kiss her. That was never going to happen – at least not yet.

“Right. I have told you about Kirsty and Elaine and what they do for a living. So, you are in very, very safe – and very, very hard – hands for your over-the-knee hand spanking, young man.” She stopped stroking my cock.

“Walk over to Elaine and lower yourself across her lap. Not a word, young man, seen as this is what you wanted, isn’t it, you disgusting little boy,” Pauline whispered.

I watched as Elaine Beltham opened her legs slightly and adjusted her long, black skirt, neatly ironing the creases from it before she sat back on the sofa and moved her arms out of the way to allow me to position myself.

“Yes, Auntie Pauline. I’m sorry, Auntie Pauline,” I said softly as I walked across and stood to Elaine’s right side.

“You will be sorry, young man. We will make sure of that this afternoon.” She smiled.

“Over you go – you deserve every smack you are going to get from us,” Pauline continued.

The blonde-haired disciplinarian looked up at me as I slowly, and carefully, lowered myself down, eventually feeling my bare skin touch her black skirt. I shuffled around until I was comfortable and lifted my legs so that they were resting on the cushion of the sofa. After a few moments, I felt Elaine’s left hand on my lower back and her large right hand began touching my bare bottom. The sensation of her warm hand against my cold bottom, made me squirm.

“Let me make myself clear, you dirty boy – if that thing makes a mess on Auntie Elaine’s skirt then I will cane and strap the arse off you. Do I make myself clear?” She looked down on me.

I turned my head to the left and looked up at the fifty-year-old Deputy Head Mistress. Her breasts stood out prominently underneath her white blouse.

“Yes, Auntie Elaine. I’ll behave in future. I promise,” I said almost pleadingly.

Elaine Beltham continued to rub my cold bottom with her warm right hand until she was satisfied. I buried my face in my arms and waited for the onslaught to begin. It seemed like an age as Mrs. Beltham continued to rub my bottom and backs of my legs with her hand until she was ready. Out of my view, Elaine nodded at her cousin and at Pauline, raised her large right hand in the air, took a deep breath and once satisfied, brought the flat of her hand down, landing solidly across the centre of my fleshy bottom with a loud “Slap!” Which echoed around Miss Manson’s large living room.

The pain took a second to register in my brain and I winced. I had forgotten how much a hand spanking could hurt. Over the next forty or so minutes, Elaine and Kirsty would remind me exactly how uncomfortable and painful a thorough hand spanking from an experienced disciplinarian could make a person feel.

“Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!”

“Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!”

The Deputy Head Mistress began my spanking by slapping the fleshy centre of my bottom. This was done slowly, and as hard as she physically could. She continued to slap slow and hard for the next few minutes.

“Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!”

“Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!”

Elaine Beltham said nothing as she concentrated upon turning my pale white bottom a deep shade of pink. It was soon warm to the touch and I could feel the heat growing in my bottom. Mrs. Beltham continued to target the centre of my bottom, holding me in place with her left arm which she used to push me down into her comfortable lap.

“Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!”

“Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!”

Another slow, and deliberate, dose with the slim, blonde-haired lady’s hand began to bring tears to my eyes and I pushed my face deeper into my arms. I really began to regret asking my old teacher to smack my bottom but tried to take what Elaine gave me with as little fuss as I could. After several more minutes, during which time, Pauline’s fifty-year-old niece continued her focus on the centre of my bottom, Elaine paused and placed both hands flat on my back. She smiled as she heard me sniffing and sobbing.

“Right young man. That is just a warm-up for you.” The Deputy Head Mistress shuffled around on the sofa until she was comfortable.

“I want you to spread your legs slightly, young man.” Her hands wandered to the backs of my legs and she ran her fingernails slowly down my thighs.

I carefully did as instructed and spread my legs slightly, biting my tongue as I felt my hard cock slip from Elaine’s skirt so that it was standing out so that she could see it in its full glory. Pauline’s niece reached down with her right hand and touched it gently before she took a firm grip on it.

“You dirty, dirty boy!” She stroked my shaven head with her left hand.

“I warned you about getting excited while you are punished, didn’t I?” Elaine Beltham continued to grip my throbbing cock.

“Auntie Elaine is going to have to spank you harder then, isn’t she, and she needs to teach you a lesson that you’ll never forget, won’t she?” Her fingers touched my balls and I squirmed.

“Yes, Auntie Elaine. I’m sorry, Auntie Elaine,” I gasped as the older woman’s right hand touched my cock and balls.

She stopped as she touched the tip of my cock. Mrs. Beltham sat in silence for a few moments and looked at her cousin and auntie, who were standing looking down on her with me draped across her strong lap.

“The dirty little beast has dribbled on my skirt. He’s really getting off on this.” Mrs. Beltham stopped touching me and returned her hands to my lower back and bottom.

Her large right hand was raised in the air once again, and she smiled at Pauline and Kirsty.

“You really are going to be spanked black and blue for staining my skirt, you bad, bad boy!” Mrs. Beltham raised her voice and brought her hand down across my bottom once more.

“Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!”

“Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!”

The centre of my bottom received another painful visit from the angry Deputy Head Mistress’ hand.

“Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!”

“Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!”

The fifty-year-old woman turned her attention to the backs of my legs and the creases in between my buttocks and thighs and went to work.

“Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!”

“Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!”

“I’ll teach you what happens if you dribble on Auntie’s skirt!” she snapped before unleashing a prolonged and extremely painful onslaught against my delicate thighs.

“Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!”

“Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!”

I had started to cry and sob from the intense pain that had been ignited in my bottom thanks to the blonde-haired lady’s hand, but Elaine Beltham was an experienced spanker and simply used her left arm to hold me tightly in place over her knee. The sensation of feeling the cold buttons on her white blouse rub against my bare skin failed to take my mind from the pain and heat that Pauline’s niece was inflicting on my increasingly red and sore buttocks.

“Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!”

“Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!”

“Go on, naughty. Have a good cry – because Mrs. Beltham will just ignore you!” She raised her voice and resumed her hand spanking across my thighs.

“Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!”

“Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!”

Elaine continued for a further five minutes before she stopped and placed both hands on my lower back. My bottom was red hot and Pauline’s niece sat with me lying over her lap until she was happy that I had calmed myself. I then felt her large right hand touching my bottom.

“Up!” she snapped and sat back on the sofa.

I lay, face in my arms, for a few moments before slowly and carefully getting to my feet. I tried to avoid looking down on Elaine, who got to her feet and looked down at my cock. It was still erect and Mrs. Beltham tutted loudly.

“Let’s see if Auntie Kirsty can get rid of that, shall we?” She smiled as Kirsty Maitland replaced her on the sofa.

Kirsty Maitland was very similar to Pauline Manson. They both had short, brown hair, small breasts and were of a similar height. Unlike Elaine, who was very slim, Kirsty was of medium build and had extremely powerful thighs. She had dressed in her work blouse and my attention was taken by the blue shoulder-boards that she wore on her blouse. The gold lettering stood out and the words “Reformatory Principal” were all too clear to see. Her short black skirt had risen up as she had sat on the sofa and she busied herself adjusting this so that she was comfortable. Once she was ready, she began gently patting her knees with both hands.

“Over my lap, boy!” She stared up at me.

I took the chance to rub my scorching bottom with my hands before I carefully resumed my position, lying across Ms. Maitland’s knee. Pauline’s niece lifted my legs back onto the sofa and adjusted her blouse before placing her left hand under my stomach and pulling me into her white blouse. Her right hand began touching my bottom.

“I’ve never had anyone dribble on me during a spanking, so please don’t upset me by making a mess on my skirt, Peter.” Her right hand was raised in the air.

“You have been a very naughty boy indeed, Peter, and you deserve every spank, don’t you, dirty, dirty, boy!” She laughed as I pushed my cock deeper against her skirt.

“Yes, Auntie Kirsty. I’m sorry for upsetting Auntie Pauline.” I took a deep breath and buried my head in my arms.

“Slap!” Kirsty Maitland landed a full-force spank against the back of my right leg.

I squirmed, but soon found that there was no escape. The experienced disciplinarian simply tightened the grip that she had on me around my waist and waited for me to calm myself.

“Have you quite finished, Peter?” she asked softly.

I did not reply, and the spanking against my lower buttocks and thighs resumed.

“Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!”

“Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!”

Ms. Maitland concentrated on targeting my thighs and the creases in between buttocks and thighs. It was extremely painful and uncomfortable but there was nowhere to go – Kirsty simply tightened the grip she had on me with her left arm and continued my punishment. She smiled at her cousin and auntie as she spanked slowly and extremely hard.

“Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!”

“Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!”

Ms. Maitland laughed as she noticed the series of hand prints that her right hand had left on the backs of my legs.

As the fifty-two-year-old Reformatory Principal continued to spank my bottom, Pauline and Elaine left the room and headed upstairs to Pauline’s study. They returned after about ten minutes, both carrying a selection of implements which they laid out on the coffee table. They stood and watched as Kirsty Maitland concluded my hand spanking with a series of hard, full-force slaps with her hard right hand across the centre of my red and bruised bottom.

“Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!”

“Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!”

Kirsty smiled at her cousin and auntie and placed her hands flat on my back. My bottom was a shade of deep red and there were a series of hand prints across my thighs and the backs of my legs. I kept my head buried in my arms to muffle my sobs and sniffs and waited for my punishment to resume. Out of my sight, the Reformatory Principal gently rubbed my burning bottom before reaching between my legs and touching my cock.

“A-ha! I think this little one is beginning to learn his lesson!” She smiled before pulling her right hand out and replacing it flat on my lower back.

My erection had indeed disappeared. My mind was most certainly on other things, such as, how much the women were going to hurt me with the selection of implements. I continued lying over Kirsty’s ample lap, occasionally feeling the older woman’s white blouse brush against my bare skin as she shuffled around on Pauline’s sofa. Eventually, Elaine walked over and stood close to where my head was positioned. As I had my face buried deep in my arms, I did not see her hand her older cousin the thin, wooden school ruler.

“Kirsty, dear. Will you smack Peter’s naughty bottom with my school ruler please – twelve, fast, stinging strokes with it across the backs of his legs, please,” Miss Manson ordered calmly.

I wanted to protest but didn’t get the chance as Ms. Maitland replaced her left arm around my stomach and held me tightly, pulling me further and further into her blouse and skirt. The next sensation I felt was the thin, wooden ruler being measured out against my already sore and bruised thighs before Kirsty Maitland quickly, and painfully rapped out the dozen strokes, not giving me a moment to recover in between each painful smack with the innocent-looking school ruler.

“Smack!” “Smack!” “Smack!” “Smack!” “Smack!” “Smack!”

“Smack!” “Smack!” “Smack!” “Smack!” “Smack!” “Smack!”

The dark-haired fifty-two-year-old held onto me for a few minutes until she was sure that I had calmed myself, before releasing her grip around my stomach and placing the thin, thirty-centimetre ruler flat on my back. She playfully stroked my shaven head with her right hand, smiling at Pauline and Elaine as I sniffed and sobbed.

“Stand up, you naughty young man.” She licked her lips.

“I do hope that you’re beginning to realise how we deal with dirty boys who want to have their bottoms smacked.” She sat back on the sofa and waited for me to stand up.

“Do you want me to go and fetch the spanking chair, Auntie Pauline?” Elaine asked.

Once I had stood up, with some difficulty, Pauline walked a few steps towards me and stood so close to me that I could feel her white blouse touching my bare skin. She looked into my eyes and did not shift her gaze from me as she took my semi-hard cock in her small right hand.

“Yes please, dear. It’s about time that my naughty nephew takes a trip down memory lane – or a trip over my lap, to be more accurate.” Miss Manson squeezed my cock hard.

“Isn’t that what you’re here for, Peter?” she purred, relaxing the grip on my throbbing cock and turning her attention to stroking my cock and balls gently.

I began breathing deeply and closed my eyes.

“Yes, Auntie Pauline. I want to feel what it’s like to be spanked by you,” I answered quietly.

Pauline laughed quietly and continued touching me. I kept my eyes closed, imagining Miss Manson in her blouse, and did not notice that Elaine had returned to the living room and placed the chair down in the centre of the room.

Miss Manson stopped stroking me and had walked over to her coffee table where she had picked up her ebony-backed clothes brush. She tapped this gently against the palm of her right hand.

“Now, you naughty boy. Come over to Auntie Pauline and bend right over my lap – hands flat on the floor in front of you,” she instructed quietly but firmly.

As I opened my eyes I noticed Miss Manson’s spanking chair. It was a high-backed wooden chair with a padded seat. It had wooden arms and Miss Manson sat down and opened her legs slightly, still tapping the small clothes brush against the palm of her right hand.

I walked over to her right-hand side and slowly, and carefully, lowered myself down until my cock touched her knee-length skirt. I reached over and placed both hands flat on the floor in front of me, pushing my semi-hard cock against Pauline’s legs. Miss Manson began by gently rubbing her left hand over my already hot and sore buttocks before she slipped her left arm under my stomach and pulled me into her white blouse. The hard, cold, ebony-backed clothes brush began touching my bottom.

“So, ladies. Which one of you received the most spankings from me?” Pauline Manson laughed.

Kirsty and Elaine walked over to where I was draped over Pauline Manson’s knees and I was taken aback when Kirsty stood beside my head and straddled me, lifting her skirt out of the way. She pushed her thighs against my shoulders so that I was safely secured in place for Pauline to spank me with the brush without fear of me moving around.

“Oh, definitely me, Auntie. I was always being spanked as I couldn’t help but ignore you or not want to do as you told me,” Elaine laughed.

At that moment, the brush stopped being tapped against my bottom and Pauline paused, took a deep breath and then began her work. The nasty clothes brush landed hard, across the fleshy centre of my already red and bruised bottom with a loud “Thud!”

Miss Manson paused for a few moments before she resumed her onslaught with her small, oval-headed brush, rapping out a dozen, slow and full-force swipes with it, alternately across both buttocks. I cried, just as I had done all those years before, but could not move or struggle due to the weight of Kirsty squeezing me between her strong thighs.

“Thud!” “Thud!” “Thud!” “Thud!” “Thud!” “Thud!”

“Thud!” “Thud!” “Thud!” “Thud!” “Thud!” “Thud!”

My ex-History Mistress paused and ran both hands over my red, hot and throbbing bottom. She said nothing as she gently massaged my bottom. I sobbed and sniffed loudly despite Kirsty reaching down and stroking my hair with her hands. After a few minutes, Pauline picked up the brush once again and took aim against my thighs and the creases in between buttock and thigh.

“Now, during our final detention at school, I smacked you on the legs with my brush, so I’m going to give you a little reminder of how painful that can be.” The brush was already raised in the air waiting.

When I did not reply, Pauline Manson simply resumed my punishment, rapping out the extremely painful swipes with the ebony-backed clothes brush slowly, and as hard as she could, across the most delicate part of my legs.

“Thud!” “Thud!” “Thud!” “Thud!” “Thud!” “Thud!”

“Thud!” “Thud!” “Thud!” “Thud!” “Thud!” “Thud!”

She paused to allow me to calm myself.

“You go on, dear – have a good cry and scream as much as you like. No one can hear you, and Auntie Kirsty and Auntie Elaine don’t care,” Miss Manson announced quietly.

“And I am going to spank you regardless of the noise you make until I am satisfied that you won’t want to be spanked ever again.” The brush was lifted and soon had concluded this painful part of my punishment.

“Thud!” “Thud!” “Thud!” “Thud!” “Thud!” “Thud!”

“Thud!” “Thud!” “Thud!” “Thud!” “Thud!” “Thud!”

Once she had spanked me with her ebony-backed clothes brush, Pauline Manson removed her left arm from around my waist and placed it flat on my lower back. She placed the clothes brush on my back too and waited for me to calm myself. After a few moments, Kirsty Maitland opened her thighs and released the weight from my shoulders, carefully stepping away from me. The fifty-year-old adjusted her long black skirt, and stood, arms folded across her chest looking down upon me.

Pauline gently tapped my sore bottom with her right hand. That was my signal to stand up, which I managed to do after a few moments.

She looked up at me as I tried to frantically cool the heat in my bottom and backs of my legs by rubbing them with both hands. Pauline smiled as she ironed the creases from her skirt and slowly got to her feet before looking me in the eye.

“Now, you naughty boy, we’re not even halfway through with you yet,” she said in a whisper, running her right hand down my chest.

“I want you to bend over my spanking chair – grip the arms of the chair with both hands, young man,” she instructed and moved out of the way.

I slowly walked the few paces over to the chair and stood facing it. I gave my bottom one final rub with both hands, rubbing my eyes and nose with the back of my left hand before reaching over and gripping the arms of the wooden chair with both hands. Pauline Manson walked to her coffee table and laid the clothes brush down before returning to where I was with the large black plimsoll. Again, she gently tapped it against the palm of her right hand.

“This will give you a good reminder of how hard a spanking from me can be, you naughty, naughty boy!” she said quietly and calmly, drawing the plimsoll back in her right hand.

It landed solidly across the centre of my already red and sore bottom a moment later. It announced its painful arrival with a loud “Thump!” a moment later. The sound echoed around Pauline’s living room and she immediately began to prepare the next swipe with the heavy, rubber-soled plimsoll. I swayed as the pain registered in my brain but did my best to stay in position over the chair, gripping the wooden arms with both hands as tightly as I could. My ex-History Mistress began the painful walloping that would last just over five minutes.

“Thump!” “Thump!” “Thump!” “Thump!” “Thump!” “Thump!”

Miss Manson’s first set of smacks with the large black plimsoll kissed the centre of my bottom, reigniting the fire that had been burning ever since that first hand spanking from Elaine. The seventy-year-old took aim once again, this time placing her nasty shoe against the creases in between my bottom and thigh, which had already taken their fair share of the punishment so far. Pauline rapped out half a dozen smacks, alternately against my thighs.

“Thump!” “Thump!” “Thump!” “Thump!” “Thump!” “Thump!”

The older woman paused to allow me to re-gather my composure. I struggled to stay still, gripping the arms of the chair for all I was worth, but the pain was intense. Eventually, Pauline Manson unleashed a second dose of the plimsoll against my lower buttocks and thighs.

“Thump!” “Thump!” “Thump!” “Thump!” “Thump!” “Thump!”

As I was struggling, Miss Manson stood to my left-hand side and placed her left arm around my waist to hold me in place for the final whacking with her nasty plimsoll.

“Another twelve smacks Peter for being such a dirty, dirty boy!” she hissed before sending the shoe on its way once again.

“Thump!” “Thump!” “Thump!” “Thump!” “Thump!” “Thump!”

“Thump!” “Thump!” “Thump!” “Thump!” “Thump!” “Thump!”

Pauline Manson held me for a few moments until I had calmed myself, before she released the grip that she had around my stomach with her left arm. She smiled at Kirsty and Elaine as she walked over to her coffee table, placing the plimsoll down and picking up the American-style holed wooden paddle in her right hand. Once more, she tapped this gently against the palm of her right hand.

She was soon standing to my left-hand side and measuring the thick, eighteen-inch-long piece of holed wood against my hot and sore bottom.

“This is for asking me to spank your bottom but also for having an accident on Auntie Elaine’s skirt.” She gently tapped the paddle against my bottom.

“Auntie Pauline is going to give you a whacking with her paddle and you will take each swat with no fuss, Peter. If I have to stop for any reason, then we will start all over again and I will allow Auntie Kirsty and Auntie Elaine to give you exactly the same as I’m going to give you. Do you understand me, boy?” Pauline Manson continued to tap the heavy wooden paddle against my bottom.

I was still sniffing and sobbing, and it took me a few moments to reply to her. Eventually, I managed to reply.

“Yes, Auntie Pauline. I’m sorry for being such a naughty boy.”

I closed my eyes and tried to prepare myself for the wooden paddle. I did not have long to wait as Miss Manson drew it back, took a deep breath, looked at her two nieces and nodded before sending it down as hard as she could. It landed with a loud “Whack!” which echoed around Pauline’s large living room.

The pain registered in my brain after a few moments and I yelled, still careful to hang on to the arms of Pauline’s spanking chair for all I was worth. Over the next ten minutes, Miss Manson administered thirty-six swats with the large-holed paddle, not saying a word, instead concentrating on landing the nasty piece of wood as hard and as accurately as she could.

“Whack!” “Whack!” “Whack!” “Whack!” “Whack!” “Whack!”

“Whack!” “Whack!” “Whack!” “Whack!” “Whack!” “Whack!”

“Whack!” “Whack!” “Whack!” “Whack!” “Whack!” “Whack!”

“Whack!” “Whack!” “Whack!” “Whack!” “Whack!” “Whack!”

“Whack!” “Whack!” “Whack!” “Whack!” “Whack!”

The retired teacher leaned in close after she had administered the swats with her paddle, which had spots of blood on it from where it had kissed my already sore and bruised bottom. Pauline’s warm hand rubbed every inch of my bottom and thighs before she stopped and returned the paddle to her coffee table, picking up the long, thick leather belt and resuming her position at my left-hand side. Kirsty and Elaine had sat down on the sofa and watched their Auntie spank my naughty bottom for all she was worth.

Pauline Manson was enjoying herself and felt like she was back at school dealing with a naughty pupil. She was becoming increasingly hot and knew that she was turned on and aroused from spanking me. She adjusted her short-sleeved white blouse before wrapping the thick, black belt around her right wrist to make it more manageable. She paused and listened to my sniffs, sobs and breathing before deciding to push on with my punishment.

“Now, Peter. Auntie needs to drive home to you that she is very angry and upset at your demands to be punished.” She adjusted her stance so that her left foot was slightly in front of her right.

“I want to show you exactly how severe I can be so that you never ask me to spank you again. Is that clear, young man?” she continued.

I took a few moments to reply as I was still tearful from the plimsoll and the paddle.

“Yes, Auntie Pauline. I’m sorry. Please; I’ve learned my lesson,” I pleaded but hung onto the arms of the spanking chair for all I was worth.

“That may well be, but we need to drive the message home and make sure, don’t we?” She laid the belt out across my bottom.

“And besides, Auntie Elaine wants you properly punished for being naughty while you were over her lap,” she continued.

I closed my eyes and gently bit my lip in anticipation of the pain that was coming my way.

“Or perhaps you would prefer it if Auntie Elaine gave you the belt instead?” Miss Manson laughed and looked over at her blonde-haired niece.

“No, Auntie. Please, not Auntie Elaine!” I shouted.

Miss Manson adjusted her white, short-sleeved blouse and then turned her total attention to my bottom, raising the belt in the air.

“Very well, young man. Eighteen strokes of the belt and no fuss from you, otherwise Auntie Pauline will start all over again and then she’ll allow Auntie Kirsty and Auntie Elaine to give you the same. Am I making myself clear, Peter?” She waited.

“Yes, Auntie Pauline. I’ll be good, I promise,” I spat out quickly.

Within a few seconds, the retired History Mistress had started the next part of the punishment and did not say a word until she had administered the eighteen, hard and painful swipes with her thick belt.

“Whap!” “Whap!” “Whap!” “Whap!” “Whap!” “Whap!”

“Whap!” “Whap!” “Whap!” “Whap!” “Whap!” “Whap!”

“Whap!” “Whap!” “Whap!” “Whap!” “Whap!” “Whap!”

Out of my sight, Kirsty and Elaine had got to their feet and were standing, watching Pauline touching and trying to soothe my red and bruised bottom and thighs. After a few minutes, the seventy-year-old walked over to the coffee table and placed her leather belt down before picking up her senior dragon cane with its white, woollen handle. She swished it through the air several times, the whistling sound it made leaving me in no doubt that this final part of my punishment was going to be painful and unpleasant.

“Now, young man. Auntie wants you to get yourself up the stairs and walk to your bedroom – the open door on the landing.” Pauline smiled at her nieces.

“You will lie face down on the bed and place your hips on the pillows that are at the bottom of your bed. You may use one of them to put your face in if you wish,” she continued.

“Stand up and get yourself to your room. We will join you in a few minutes and then we’ll conclude your punishment. You are going to receive a caning from each of us and then you are going to say sorry,” Miss Manson said quietly.

I slowly stood up and looked at the three women through my teary eyes. I wiped my nose and eyes with the backs of my hands.

“Get to your room this instant!” Pauline Manson snapped.

I bit my lip. Pauline Manson looked angry and so no-nonsense that I complied immediately. I quickly climbed the stairs and walked along the landing until I came to the bedroom with its door wide open. Sure enough, just like Auntie Pauline had described, the pillows were piled at the end of the bed, and I walked into the large bedroom and took one in my hands before lying flat on my stomach on the large double bed. I pushed my face into the pillow and waited for the women to arrive to finish my spanking.