Over Her Knee (Becoming Hers Series Book 1)

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This incident occurred when I was into my second year at the school, and I was nine years old. That autumn, a new boy, Simon, joined the school and moved into our dormitory. Simon immediately became Matron’s favourite because he was so little and could be very cute when he wanted to be. Despite being a stern disciplinarian, Kate was also a very loving mom. She showered her daughters with hugs and kisses, liked to play and joke around with her them when they were being good, and comforted them after they had been punished. I thought I was joking when I said you enjoyed being disciplined," she said. "But it's true, isn't it?" I was informed of the bad reports she had received on me and try as I might, I had no real or tangible excuse for them… I silently accepted her scolding and disapproval, and relinquished all form of resistance, maybe it was for the best, maybe I really did deserve what was coming, I was about to find out, the hard way! As she began to spank me she could feel that I was hard and she pushed my pants down. Soon she was spanking my bare bottom and I became even harder. The sting was shooting through my whole body -- soon I realized she was getting off on spanking me, so I slid my fingers under her skirt, waited for her reaction. When she opened her legs a little further I understood that sex was possible so I began to finger her.

For what seemed like the longest time, I stood there dumbfounded, staring at this diminutive but imperious female before me. When Denise’s spanking was over and she returned to the spot where she had been standing, Kate looked at me and said: “Your turn, young man.” I was standing about 10ft away, but the walk to that bench felt like one of those dreams in which you are walking toward a destination but never get any closer to it. My head was spinning – I felt scared, embarrassed, and exhilarated, all at the same time. This was a further bombshell – I’d never been told to take my trousers down for any punishment before. I just stood there transfixed, my heart in my mouth. I was definitely having a huge adrenalised reaction, and I froze like an animal caught in headlights. Tasha said, “Penny, now listen we’re both hot and bothered. No need to go far. This churchyard’s large, let’s find a grave stone and you can set to…”The following true story took place in the summer of 1984, when I was nine years old. My parents had divorced two years earlier. Since then, I had lived with my mom in New England, and had spent four weeks every summer with my dad at his home in Georgia.

Tasha said “now Penny, you know you want to and as parish council member it is your business to know what’s what, which includes Vicar’s tendency –he is quite new. Call it parish practicalities, and by all means I’ll bend and bare for old fashioned justice when we are through…” Yes, ma’am,” I said through my sniffles. “I’m sorry, and I won’t let it happen again.” I felt the paddle resting against my bottom, and I prayed Vera would not raise it again. Surprisingly, my former depression had disappeared, completely replaced by the long-familiar feelings of respect and fear of further punishment. This all changed when I was 13. Aunt Pam was a Christian fundamentalist, and in my teens I’d sometimes stay weekends or for a time in school holidays at her lovely house in Amersham, and she became a kind of tutor to me too.The lashes were given in 10 to 15 second intervals, all of them hurt and all of them stung, I was proud of myself that I didn’t actually shed tears, but it was close. I do recommend the Tawse for English students as I hear you do not like it 😉