Dear Miss - Part 1

By Sir Chaucer

Please read and enjoy, but consider this story private to SAXON Spanking Web

Dear Miss M***

Today, Sunday, you came knocking at my door. You knew I was expecting you and you knew I was going to punish you for having written descriptions of spankings to me, and, for having made spelling mistakes in those writings. You knock timidly and wait, You wish to knock again because all the school kids can see you on my doorstep, they will never know what you are here for but, you're so afraid that they do.

You raise your hand to knock but, the door opens. You introduce yourself and you can see a group of walking sticks in the hall way, your tummy does a flutter as you imagine one of those 3/4 inch diameter wooden canes landing on your bottom. Hesitantly you introduce yourself, wishing you could come inside and shut the door, wishing also that you could run away.

At his command you step over the threshold, the step up reminds you that your bladder is full and you urgently need to use a toilet. You want to ask but Sir commands you to shut the door and follow him. Door shut and you wonder where he went. All the doors off the hallway are closed but, one has a window set into it and you can hear the sound of spanking, and screaming coming from inside. You are afraid that you will be punished with someone else present and step to the door, knock and enter, then timidly stand on the small red carpet square that Sir is indicating, you glance around and realise that the spanking and crying is coming from the television.

There is a girl on a bed, she is kneeling to raise her bottom. You see how her legs are spread and you can see, in between the flash of a hand landing on her bottom, all of her Yoni and Rosebud between the red cheeks. You are thankful to see it is a female hand which is spanking and think you may be able to hide your private parts from him. You are startled when he asks you why you are here?

You stutter out about your writing and the spelling mistakes, you need to make water so much that you ask for the toilet. He is silent for the moment than stands and silently leads you out of the room to the toilet, it is a large room with a walk-in shower. You listen in horror to the command that you remove your lower garments and step into the shower, does he really mean you to make water in there?

With reluctance you kick your shoes off, raise your skirt, your underskirt and lower your tights and panties, you see his hand held out and know you must remove your garments completely and hand them to him, you know how much of your oh-so-secret place that he can see when you bend. Your tights and pants were clean this morning, you hope they're still clean since you've been travelling on a coach for four hours prior to this meeting, thinking about the punishment to come and are very aware of how damp you become at the slightest provocation.

You hand them to Him, you can see a wet spot in the crotch as you do so and are relieved when he puts them in a washing basket but, distressed again when he guides you into the shower cubicle, turns you round and orders you to release your water. Horrified you stand there frozen, making water has always been private and you have never done it standing before. 15 seconds, 30 seconds, you know his eyes are fastened on your vulnerability and do not see his hand grasp a flexible water spray.

You shriek as cold water hits between your legs. Slowly the cold water seems warmer and you realise your golden shower has started. You try to stop the flow but it is powerful and hits the floor like a waterfall. He directs the water on to the floor to wash the urine away. Your face gets hot with blushes and you raise your hand to cover it. As you do so your dress drops and becomes wet, you know what you have done and scrabble to correct the mistake. Shall you go home in a wet, smelly dress you wonder in panic and the flow dribbles away to nothing.

At his command you remove the rest of your clothing and drop them in the washing basket. You are guided, your lower body still wet, into the kitchen where you place the clothes in the washing machine, trying desperately to hide your small breasts with erect nipples and not to bend so he will see between your widely set apart legs. Placing the clothes in the tub you squirm as a hand comes between your thighs, parts your pubic hair and rubs gently. It feels almost nice until a stinging slap lands on your bottom. You straighten and he simply steps around you and starts the washing machine in motion. You wonder how long it will take to wash and dry your clothes and, how long will the punishment last.

Almost gently he takes your hand and leads you to another room. In panic you see a single bed with a pillow in the middle. On the wall there is a martinet, a Tawse, a thin riding crop. They remain in sight as he sits and pulls you down over his lap. You tighten your leg muscles as you feel his hand slip between them and force your legs apart but to no avail, your legs part and your secrets are on display. You know he can see the place where dark stuff is expelled and, the prominent cushions each side of the pink split and are suddenly shaken out of your thoughts by a hefty stinging slap on your left cheek. Shaken again by the one which lands on your right cheek.

With a cry you become aware of the heat. Of your legs kicking and his strong arm round your waist. You cannot escape as blow after blow lands cheek by cheek. How long has it gone on for you think and then, collapse with tears in your eyes as you realise the spanking hand is now stroking gently and with a shock you realise that you enjoy the fingers sliding round your privateness. You've never touched there before in such a manner, is it dirty, it can't be you're enjoying it but shamed at the same time.

You realise he is lifting you and you wince as your legs and back straighten, it must be over as you are surely are guided to lie on the bed on your back. Your bottom protests as it makes contact with the pillow. The pillow? Why is your middle section raised so much. Your hands flutter to your belly and you feel his hands lift your legs. To late to stop it your legs are pressed down either side of your head trapping your hands and are tied in position with pink ribbons, You know now it has not ended, you know how much you show but your hands are trapped and you can't cover yourself.

You see him kneel on the end of the bed, he has a Tawse in his hand and you shriek as it lands on your left thigh and slides harshly down your cheek. You panic as it lands on your right thigh and hope the next one doesn't land in the middle. 6 blows was that or was it 12, you have lost count until you feel a different sensation, a sharp contact right in the middle. Not hurting so much but, inflaming your private feelings.

You manage to look down through tears and see the many threaded martinet as it flies though the air to land again, and again. You wonder if you are producing that sticky fluid for you know not why it happens, only that those naughty thoughts make it appear and you'll have to change your panties yet again. You realise that you have no panties to change and the leather is making direct contact with that place so private. Lightly and instantly it lands and you feel pleasure but you wonder how could you be pleasured by such an attack. You feel a flutter, a clamping of the muscles and start to gasp.

Now a different sensation, through your sobs you realise he's massaging a smoothing cream into your so recently flogged bottom and thighs. You are no longer afraid as his hand caresses your Yoni and his finger insinuates gently into your rosebud. The feeling is so heavenly and you feel a shudder building in your lower body until.

Until it's stopped by a blow on each side of your cheeks. With sadness you realise it may be not be over yet. You slowly curl up into a ball as your hands and legs are released but then, have to straighten painfully as he turns you face down, you don't resist as your hands are secured at the top of the bed. You allow your legs to be parted and fixed on each side of the bed and just wait for the next pain.

And wait, you wonder how long, is he looking at you, you can't see, you hear nothing and your eyes begin to droop with the exhaustion of the punishment. Soon you are in semi-sleep only to be woken by a sudden pain across both buttocks, You scream as blow after blow lands in tram lines across your already sore bottom. Your arms try to pull away from their fastening, your legs are equally fastened and you can only suffer.

It stops, your body racked with sobs only just feels the soothing cream once again applied, you bother not about privacy now as your hands, then your legs are released. You turn as you feel him lie beside you, He has no clothes on but something does cover his - His what? You struggle to remember human biology from school but give up and enjoy the pressure of his hidden hardness pressed into your belly. The tears are flowing now and you enjoy being held so tightly.

You feel yourself raised, laid down on cool sheets and a cover pulled gently over you, he's gone and you retreat away from your pain, curl up and sleep. You wake in the night in panic, where are you, the pain in your bottom reminds you and you sleep again.

You do not know that I come into your room in the early morning. I lift the sheet carefully and shine a torch on your sore bottom. I can see your Yoni exposed like a fig and pulsating slightly, I touch your exposed clitoris gently, exciting it and making it swell. I play back and forth between your rosebud and your natural opening. As lubrication starts to flow I re-cover you and leave the room.

Knowing not, for you are in your sleep, your hands drift between your legs, your fingers where mine have so recently departed play in and around your private pleasure and complete your orgasm, quietly you drift into a deep and happy sleep. Morning comes and you wake slowly and luxuriate in the warmth of after-sleep. You become aware of stiffness in your bottom and remember the shame of showing all your private areas.

The door opens and you are shy as he pulls the sheet away. At his command you reluctantly turn onto your front. You are on view again and try to cover your cheeks with your hands but instead shudder as cooling cream is once again smoothed in. You don't even object when his hands explore between your cheeks.

All too soon it is over and you are told to use the bathroom and come back into the main room. You are allowed privacy as you toilet and wash and there is a lovely pink dressing gown to wrap around your body, you wish though that it was full length instead of so nearly leaving your soreness exposed. Finished you go to the main room and are guided to sit on his lap.

You gingerly sit, your thighs to his thighs to avoid further contact with your sore bottom. You are shocked as his hand dips beneath the dressing gown and caresses the soreness, you hear him forgive you and say that after breakfast you may iron your clothes and depart for home.

Breakfast consumed, dressed in clean and ironed clothes, you hug tightly, and wonder how you could be so close to this person who has so recently abused you with Smack, with Martinet and Tawse.

You depart and realise with a guilty start that you are already planning your next letter and wondering how many spelling mistakes you need to make before he once again demands your presence for further punishment.

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