Although we did have the cane at my sweet little primary school in Wembley, London, in the 1960s, I managed to avoid it. However, at my senior school I was regularly caned and slippered as we all were, going into the 1970s. The room was a combined lounge-diner. Auntie Deirdre got up, took a chair from under the dining table and placed it in the centre of the room, facing Mum’s wheelchair. Auntie Deirdre sat down on it, put the hairbrush down on her lap and called me to her side – which I did very reluctantly. Then, much to his horror, he felt matron pulling at the cord of his pyjamas then tugging them down to reveal his bare bottom.

Sarah finished a video we filmed at my house in Carmel “Scolded and Spanked” and it’s available for sale now in my DVD store. I’ve posted the first 2 clips and set of pix in my members area. Two more strokes followed and a dark patch appeared on the boy’s shorts as he wet himself – poetic justice, maybe? He was left writhing in pain when it as all finished. His legs were moving slowly, as if he was trying to walk, and he was sobbing uncontrollably, heaving great breaths and making all sorts of strange noises. As Mrs Watson announced that he would receive four strokes, I felt my heart pound. However, I felt no sympathy for the boy because my bum was stinging because of him. What happened next had a profound effect on me for the remainder of my school days… Various authors of contemporary spanking fiction have written a number of stories featuring the governess. Here are a few extracts from some of the governess stories available in the Library of Spanking Fiction. Many of us appreciate stories where the tables are turned, resulting in the disciplinarian being in a position of chastisement. In The Governess by Flogmaster, the boy Bobby delights in spanking his governess. Although we considered bad behaviour in general somewhat disreputable and beneath us, certain crimes, as we called them, commanded respect. To have to see the headmistress for misbehaviour on a public bus was unthinkable. To have to see her for reading Ulysses was an entirely different matter – particularly if the ‘criminal’ had a witty observation about the book to entertain her friends with.Our Housemother would have been perhaps in her mid to late 30s and tended to dress in light, cream or white blouses, and dark skirts, favouring various coloured cardigans that she would wrap around her shoulders.

She gave C a real dressing down, and as she scolded him Mrs Watson appeared in the corner of my eye. She had fetched her cane from somewhere and was standing there impatiently, tapping the side of her leg with it. To my chagrin, the boy who had given up the name remained unpunished. He could have saved me the spanking that still stung like the blazes inside my shorts.I was educated at a Catholic school – St. Ursula’s High School for Girls, Bristol -between 1958 and 1964. Although housed in a modern building, the school was run on old-fashioned lines, the nuns being Sisters of Mercy. My next naughty boy was Doug and this was his first session with me. He took a good spanking and I used my hand and hairbrush on him. She decided to apply some pressure to A, who stood beside me. She placed a chair in front of her desk and sat down on it, the spoke directly to the lad. “You’re first – so if I were you I’d speak up, young man.” I didn’t know if A knew who had done it or not, but he didn’t say anything. Anyway, Mrs Watson announced that time was up. Whichever way you decide to visit Matron is here to answer your questions and design a programme to suit your requirements.

The next few weeks went without event other than I got to see how Shapely she really was even at her age she had a great pair of tits nicely sized not small and not too large and an ass to die for, I found it hard not to stare sometimes and hard in my briefs as well but I had to be careful as my erection showed if I only wore briefs especially when we sat watching TV. So to my intense embarrassment, I had to pull down my pants and show off my (very red and sore) bottom again – but it was better than a ‘top up’ over Dad’s knee right then. Well, Simon, what have you been up to?” she asked. Before I could open my mouth, it became clear that this was a question not really aimed at me, as Mum described my misbehaviour, adding to the list one or two little sins I thought had been ignored or forgotten.As a senior boy, he knew Matron would not be in a forgiving mood about their flagrant breach of the rules.