Belinda's Red-Hot Halloween

The Model

"AUA!!! Mein Popo!!! AU!!! How many times you will make him repeat this?! AUA!!!"

"As much, as I need to see your arrogant bottom freshly spanked, Miss Krüger! And you'd better not to interrupt me, since for every minute I don't work at my masterpiece, you're bottom will receive more and more spankings!"

"Whoops! AUA!!!"

Reminder

"AU!!! Mein Popo! AUA!!!"

"Try to finally remember all the rules of my house, Miss Krüger! Or you'll find yourself in this position again very soon!"

Predator and Prey

 

Sorority Rules

 

The Proper Position

The two men shared a knowing chuckle.  Belinda blushed.

“I brought a draft of Belinda’s dissertation,” Professor Winters said, pulling the thick paper out of his briefcase. “I was wondering if I might review it with her before I took her to the dorm.”

“Of course.  There’s a spare classroom at the end of the hall, Room 222.  Perfect for a…private conference.”

The two men laughed again.  Belinda felt queasy.  

Belinda’s Professor shook the headmaster’s hand, and led Belinda out past Miss Rawlings desk into the hallway. Miss Rawlings smirked at Belinda and gave her a playful, teasing goodbye wave, as if to say, “You’re going to get it good, young lady, and I couldn’t be more delighted.”

Belinda despised Miss Rawlings.

To Belinda the hallway seemed strangely different – longer, darker, more foreboding.  Each closed door she passed seemed threatening as Belinda imagined some poor girl (or class of girls) being disciplined behind it.  

Indeed, the hallway was so different that for a moment Belinda thought she had come out through another door. However she quickly realized that the hallway hadn’t changed. She had changed.

When Belinda had walked down the hallway this morning she had been a confident and self assured doctoral student preparing her dissertation.  

Now Belinda was a naughty schoolgirl preparing herself for discipline!

As they walked down the long hall a young woman approached from the other direction. Belinda was 25, and she guessed the woman wasn’t much older than she was. Indeed she was dressed as Belinda had been a few minutes before, in a business suit, although the suit was less expensive than what Belinda had been wearing.

Belinda’s mind flashed “rescue!”  The young woman would realize that they were peers and would demand Belinda’s release!

As she drew near the young woman smiled at her, and Belinda felt a momentary connection, a moment that ended abruptly when the woman spoke.

“A new arrival?” the woman purred, ignoring Belinda entirely and speaking instead to Professor Winters.

“Yes. I’m taking her to the dorm, after I give her a good talking to.”

The woman walked around Belinda, and Belinda flushed as the smiling woman appraised her juvenile school uniform with a practiced, knowing eye.   

“It looks like someone got a head start on that,” the woman chuckled.

Belinda realized to her horror that two cane marks were clearly visible on the backs of her thighs, just under the hem of her uniform skirt.

Belinda felt overwhelmed by a fresh wave of humiliation. The childish uniform had effectively stripped her of her adult rights and reduced her to a mere teenager. Now the stripes on the back of her thighs identified her as a delinquent who had just been given a good thrashing!

“Yes, the head had her touching her toes,” Professor Winters chuckled. “But sad to say, it’s already time for a refresher.”

“Well, don’t go easy on her,” the young woman urged. “Real tears lead to real learning.”

“Truer words were never spoken,” Professor Winters agreed.  

The meeting ended, and as the woman walked past she shot Belinda a sly, knowing smile. It was obvious that Belinda’s hope that a peer might save her had been a fantasy, and the woman was as delighted by Belinda’s predicament as Miss Rawlings had been.  

As they arrived at room 222 Winter’s held the door open for Belinda, not as a courtesy, but to emphasize that a recalcitrant must always be kept in plain sight.

The classroom, like the rest of the school, appeared to be very old, with high ceilings and worn, old-fashioned one-piece wooden desks that had seen much wear.  

Professor Winters pulled out the elegant large wooden chair from behind the teacher’s desk.  He moved it to the center of the room, and crooked his finger to motion Belinda forward.

Belinda stood in front of him, but Winters gruffly pulled her arm so that she was standing on his left side, looking down at his lap.  

Belinda knew what was coming, and the butterflies in her tummy took flight.

Professor Winters was actually going to spank Belinda her over his knee!

Belinda told herself this couldn’t be happening. She had filed a complaint with her University’s Ombudsman about Professor Winter’s use of the condescending words “child” and “young lady” and his incessant “compliments” about her lovely face and figure. The threat of early retirement had left Winters utterly cowed, to Belinda’s delight.  

Could it actually be that the man she had once charged with sexual harassment was going to spank her over his knee like a naughty child?

Professor Winter’s certainly sounded like an angry father. “When I discussed your paper with you, you ignored my suggestions,” he scolded. “You’re standing now, and not sitting, which is an improvement.  However I think there is a better position from which we might review your shoddy, slovenly scholarship.  Do you know what position that might be, young lady”

Belinda knew what he wanted her to say, but she desperately didn’t want to say it.  

Instead, sounding more like an unruly teen than she intended, she muttered, “I do not know.”

“YOU DON’T KNOW?” he echoed. “Fine. Since you “don’t know,” you may go to the cabinet and fetch me a razor strap.”  

Belinda’s eyes widened into saucers! A strap?  

Belinda, terrified, blurted out the answer.  “I should be over your knee!  That is the position we should review my paper in. Over your knee, with my bottom raised high for discipline!”

Professor Winters smiled, pleased that the threat of the strap had snapped his rebellious charge into line. “Very good.  Belinda, assume your position.”

HER POSITION?  Belinda gritted her teeth at the sly, humiliating insinuation that her “proper place” was over his knee, with her backside pointed skyward. But she knew this was no time to argue, and in any event she was too relieved to be spared the strap to protest. Belinda obediently scrambled into position over her Professor’s knee.  

Belinda had fantasized about spankings for years, but she had never “assumed the position” and it felt strange to her. The blood rushed to her head; she needed her hands to steady her. It was an awkward arrangement, and as Professor Winter’s shifted his knee Belinda struggled to maintain her balance.

Belinda clenched her teeth.  It was a precarious, uncomfortable, and humbling pose, but perfect for reminding a young lady that she was no longer in control. At this moment, Belinda knew, it was indeed “her position.”  

As she shifted her weight Belinda quickly became aware that she was pressing against Professor Winters and that he was enjoying it. Belinda found his excitement both infuriating and humiliating, but it was yet another indignity that she was helpless to prevent.  

Professor Winters was indeed enjoying both the view and the sensation of Belinda lying across his lap.  Pleased with the current state of affairs, he handed Belinda her dissertation.

Belinda had to take one hand off the floor and reach behind her to take the paper.  Her face was close to the floor, so she laid the paper on the ground in front of her.

“Hold the paper, child,” Professor Winters chided. “I don’t want you to get it dirty.”

Belinda hesitated, then awkwardly arched her back up and held the paper with one hand so that she could keep it off the floor.

“Move your hand. You may touch the chair, but not the floor.”

Belinda scarcely saw the difference, other than it was much more difficult to grasp the chair than use the floor. Nonetheless she needed to hold something to maintain her uncomfortable pose, and she obediently moved her hand up off the floor to grasp the chair leg.

Satisfied that his naughty charge was now in a suitably awkward position, Professor Winters issued his next command.  “Read” he ordered curtly.

Belinda read the highlighted passage.  

“All too often institutionalized corporal punishment policies have disguised sexist abuse as discipline.  Rules that enable older men to administer discipline create an environment ripe for abuse, where adult women are punished more for the sexual gratification of the men than for the imagined misdemeanours with which they are charged.”

SPANK! SPANK! SPANK!

The spanks were not hard, but Belinda was shocked to feel his large hand on the seat of her skirt, and cut her recital short.

“Sophomoric sophistry!” Professor Winters thundered. “You accuse men of sexism, while in the very next sentence you engage in ageism. What on earth does my age have to do with anything?  Perhaps I should invite some of your students to discipline you instead. I’m sure there would be no shortage of 18 and 19 year old frat boys who’d enjoy tanning your saucy bottom!”

SPANK!  SPANK! SPANK!

“No, not my students!” Belinda cried, horrified at the thought. “I am sorry!  It was stupid of me! I will fix that passage!”

“Indeed you will.  But your lies and falsehoods don’t stop there. Is my punishment of you any less effective, because I’m enjoying it? Are you arguing I should spank harder?”

SPANK! SPANK! SPANK!

“No, Herr!” Belinda cried out. “That is hard enough!”

 “Is it?  “Perhaps you can explain what’s wrong with a professional enjoying his work?”

SPANK! SPANK! SPANK!

“Nothing, Herr!” Belinda cried out, as the spanks reigned down. “I will take it out in the next draft.”

“No, you won’t “take it out,” young lady, you’ll correct it. You’ll point out how fortunate it is that there is a ready supply of older men eager to discipline the pert backsides of irresponsible young scamps such as yourself. Don’t you think that’s fortunate, Belinda?”

Not waiting for an answer, the Professor prompted her response with three more spanks.

“Yes, Herr!” Belinda replied, gritting her teeth. “I am a naughty girl, and I am lucky that there are men willing to discipline me.”

“Indeed,” Professor said. “As for this so-called ‘sexual gratification’ you are babbling about, perhaps, a bit later in this process we can precisely determine who is gratifying whom.”

Belinda stiffened.

“I would say that your paper’s blatant foolishness has earned you a forfeit. Would you agree, Belinda?”

Belinda definitely did NOT agree. The section that Professor Winters squashed was not mere opinion; it was footnoted, with case studies galore.  However she knew the answer that was required.

“Yes, Herr,” she said meekly. “Very much so, Herr!”

“Excellent,” he replied. Belinda tensed as her Professor casually used his two thumbs to flip up her uniform skirt!

Belinda’s face flushed as the cool air from the room waft across her regulation school panties. Belinda chewed her lip as she imagined the lewd view she was providing, and squirmed as she felt him stiffen beneath her. Even worse than the considerable embarrassment was her realization that Winters could now freely examine her panties.

Charles Winters paused to enjoy the view. His nemesis had a perfect bottom, round but tight, supple but firm. He had often admired it as she left his office, at least until the charges of harassment made such furtive glances impossible.

Now, however, he could take his time, and ogle her at his leisure. Her full bottom was tightly encased in the cotton regulation panties, which had doubtlessly been issued to her on admission.

The thin red cane marks that branded her a naughty schoolgirl were visible on the backs of her thighs, and peeked out from the exquisitely sensitive area that separated her thighs from her buttocks. The faint red lines were not welts, and the Headmaster had obviously gone easy on her, but Winters knew that his impudent charge would not be sitting comfortably for several days to come.

Winters felt a momentary pang of regret that he didn’t see the panties she had worn under her street clothes, for he often fantasized about their colour and style. No matter; the institutional underpants were far more appropriate, and Winters knew their snug practicality would constantly remind Belinda of her reduced stature in the most intimate way imaginable.

Belinda flinched as Winters gently ran his fingers over the seat of her underpants, which were stretched tight as a drum. Winters smiled; Belinda wanted to protest, but could not. A few months before he had been censured for complimenting her on her looks; now he could fondle her bottom with impunity.

And fondle it he did. Belinda flinched as he squeezed a portion of her cheek between his thumb and forefinger, but the sensation of her rubbing against him only increased his pleasure.

Belinda chewed her lip as Winters kneaded her bottom in his hand. “You have a round, shapely bottom, and the razor strap will need to be well oiled, so it can snap around these tight curves. Not to worry.  I’m sure the Headmaster will use the proper tool for the job!”  

Belinda had countless worries, but not that was not among them.

Winters would have enjoyed squeezing Belinda’s lovely bottom forever, but he was anxious to proceed. “Turn to the next section, girl,” he commanded.

Belinda had taken advantage of her groping to rest her shoulders, and although the paper was aloft in her left hand her nose was only a few inches from the floor.  She arched her back up and shuffled through her paper to discover the next passage Winters had circled with his disapproving red Sharpie.

“Read” he ordered crisply.

“The statistics in Appendix II-D prove that an attractive adult woman in a reformatory or prison setting is 68% more likely to have their bottoms bared for discipline than a young man punished for the same offense. The number rises to 93% when the decision to bare the woman’s bottom is left to the discretion of a male authority figure.”

Belinda’s recital ended in a flurry of crisp, hard spanks.

“Hogwash!” Winters thundered. “Statistics! As if facts proved anything!”  

“Au! But you said I needed empirical data to support…”

Professor Winters reminded Belinda that she was there to learn, not debate, in the most direct manner possible: spank, spank.

“AU!  I am sorry, Herr!”

SPANK!

 “I’ll be good!”

SPANK! SPANK! SPANK!  

“It was stupid of me!  I will correct it!  Truly I will!”

“Yes, you will correct it, Belinda.  Statistics should be used to support truth, not lies. Although the numbers you cite are accurate, your snide and unsupported sexual innuendos are an insult to male prison wardens and headmasters everywhere. It’s hard enough for these men to do their moral duty without having their motives sniped at by some half educated, spoiled, snot nosed student!”

SPANK! SPANK! SPANK!

“But Herr, the numbers show…” Belinda protested, not ready to give up a point that she had demonstrably proved.

Winters cut her off. “Did it ever occur to you, Belinda, that there may be other explanations for your data? Perhaps the true culprit is your obvious lack of experience. Women’s bottoms are fatter and chubbier than men’s. Should women have the extra insulation that nature provides, plus the insulation of pants and underpants, too? Is that FAIR?”

SPANK! SPANK! SPANK!

“AU! AU!  No, you are right, Herr! AU!  It is not fair!”

“I should say not. So you would agree that if you were to spank one of your naughty fraternity hooligans over your knee, through his thickest pair of jeans, that the equivalent spanking for you would need to be given…” Winters paused, and slipped his finger into the waistband of Belinda’s underpants, as if they were an unwanted intruder, “… With no protection whatsoever?”  

Belinda knew where this was leading, and didn’t like it one bit.  “Please, Herr, not my panties!  Let me keep a shred of dignity!”

Winter’s responded with a flurry of spanks. “I didn’t ask you for your opinion! I want facts! I’m punishing you, not buying you an ice cream cone, you silly twit!”

SPANK! SPANK!

The Professor’s voice calmed as he moved in for the kill. “Is that fair that men should be allowed to keep their trousers on, while women are spanked sans panties?”

Belinda’s intellect told her it was NOT fair, but her bottom told her otherwise.

“Yes, sir, it is fair,” she replied meekly.  “I had not considered your hypothesis, sir.”

“You hadn’t considered quite a lot, you stupid girl. Consider this. Your bottom is striped. Is it possible the headmaster treated you with MORE consideration by making sure the discipline was evenly distributed?”

“Maybe, but I do not think…”

“Obviously thinking isn’t your strong suit. So you agree that when a male instructor leaves a male college student’s trousers undisturbed, while he strips you from the waist down, it is a matter of justice, fairness, and consideration?”  

SPANK! SPANK! SPANK!

“AUA! Yes, sir!” Belinda agreed, desperate to stop the spanking. “It’s almost… chivalrous.”

As hoped, Belinda’s research “discovery” of male generosity ended the interrogatory…and the spanking. “Yes, chivalrous!” Winters agreed, chuckling. “That’s a good word for it. I wish to see that word in your paper, young lady!”

“Yes, sir, you will,” Belinda promised.  

“Please read the next passage.”  

“When the so called “criminal” is an attractive female, oftentimes her panties are lowered for even for the most trivial of misdemeanors. Their bottoms are raised and their legs are spread in the most indecent poses imaginable, and leering, snickering gawkers are invited to watch under the guise of “witnessing.” The woman’s well reasoned but pitiful protests are brusquely dismissed since humiliation is considered a key component of punishment.”

Professor Winters was not amused. “Belinda, raise your hips,” he said crisply.

The moment she had dreaded had come, and Belinda’s heart raced.  “Please, sir, I will do anything… anything …just do not take down my panties!” Belinda pleaded.

“Would you like to keep your underpants on?” Professor Winters teased.  

“Yes, sir, very much so, sir!” Belinda replied.

“Is it important to you?”  

“Yes, sir, very important,” Belinda admitted, not sure of his intent.

“But in the passage above you summarily dismissed the idea that the lowering of the woman’s underpants was a key component of the punishment. Indeed, you go much further, and charge indecency, and go on to impugn the integrity of male authority figures everywhere by subtly insinuating that young women are stripped for reasons that are less than wholesome. Is it possible, perhaps, that it is not the wardens and professors who are indecent, but their charges? Surely when these so-called victims committed these misdemeanors they knew they might be stripped for all to see.”

Belinda’s full, round bottom was now the highest point of her anatomy, and it supported her weight.  Rising was no easy matter, given that one hand was holding her paper, the other was on the chair leg, she was gasping for air, and her head and nether regions were buzzing.  

Belinda tried to shift all her weight to her left arm, but her hand slid down the well-polished chair leg, which was not designed for gymnastics.  

Belinda finally succeeded by wiggling her hips down a bit so that she could shift her weight onto her tippy toes, and use her hand solely for balance.  Belinda’s mechanizations moved her bottom out of perfect “spank” position, but watching her shapely behind wiggle and jiggle was so entertaining that Winters didn’t mind a bit.

Belinda gasped as Professor Winter’s used both hands to pull her panties down over her hips in a single fluid motion.  Oddly, Belinda found the baring of her bottom even more humbling than his spiteful denial of her pleasure.  The latter acknowledged her womanhood, while her summary stripping incontrovertibly proved that Belinda had no rights whatsoever.

The Professor used his hands to guide Belinda’s scrumptious bottom back into the ideal spanking position, an exacting and prolonged procedure that he enjoyed much more than Belinda. It was a painstaking process, but after much squeezing, patting, and groping Belinda’s bare fanny cheeks were once again ideally positioned for discipline.

“Shameful little slut!”  SPANK!

“Accusing your betters of indecency!” SPANK!

“So you crave humiliation do you?” SPANK!

Belinda chewed her lip and sobbed softly, less from the pain of the spanks, which weren’t very hard at all, as from the harsh humiliation of his remarks.  

Belinda had fantasized about being treated like a naughty schoolgirl for years, and the thought of what was in store created an almost unbearable excitement. Belinda knew she was “bad,” and in her heart she knew she was getting precisely what she deserved.

When her punishment ended Belinda raised her panties, wiped away her tears, blew her nose, and followed Professor Winters to the dormitory.

Thoughts in the Corner

Corner time really gives a girl a chance to think, which was precisely what Belinda was doing.  

How had it come to this? A few scant moments before she had been Belinda Krüger, PhD student and respected associate Professor at her University. Now she was a freshly spanked miscreant with her bare bottom on display in the principal's office at the Jameson Reformatory.

Belinda was standing in the corner with her skirt pinned up, front and back, and her panties around her knees.  "If my student's could see me now…" Belinda shuddered at the thought.

Phhhh... Phhhh… Phhh... In her current state of undress Belinda was acutely aware of the movements of the large stand up oscillating fan in the principal's office. The fan blew a soft breeze across her freshly caned backside every 20 seconds a so. The coolness made Belinda even more acutely aware of her shamefully bare bottom, which had been left on display for her educational edification and, no doubt, her principal’s amusement.

She couldn’t see him of course, but he knew he was there, shuffling papers at his desk as he ogled her.  Her pose made it all the worse. Belinda had been ordered to bend slightly and lean forward until her nose pressed against the wall. The pose forced her to arch her shapely bottom up and out.  

“What those leering, lazy frat boys in my class wouldn’t pay to see this view!” Belinda thought.  Belinda struggled unsuccessfully to banish the horrifying notion from her mind.

The tickling sensation from the fan was driving her quite mad, and was made all the worse by the fact that she was forbidden to rub her spanked bottom or take her hands off the top of her head.  

Belinda was free in that she wasn’t physically restrained, a fact that made her shameful posture all the more humiliating. The threat of her principal’s wicked cane left her frozen more completely than any cement.

Oh, how Belinda despised that cane! Belinda had fantasized about playing the part of the naughty school girl for years, and had felt a delicious tingle when the principal had removed it from the cabinet and SWISHED it through the air. From her extensive reading on the subject, Belinda knew, or thought she knew, exactly how effective such an instrument could be in teaching a young lady a salutary moral lesson.

Belinda felt a naughty thrill at the thought of holding the instrument that had been used to teach so many young women to respect their betters, and as a credentialed academic herself she felt she had every right to hold it. Belinda was fascinated with spanking and had often fantasized about what it might be like to wield the cane…

But the principal thought better, and before long Belinda was touching the cane not with her hands but with her shamefully bared bottom.

Belinda had long advocated corporal punishment which left her in a precarious mental state. If school punishments were always a just and wholesome correction, as Belinda had long argued, then wasn’t Belinda in fact getting precisely what she deserved?  

At the age of 25 Belinda had supposed that she was too old for such a juvenile punishment, but the principal has proven her wrong. Was her reformatory punishment proof that she wasn’t truly the “good girl” she had always supposed, and was in fact no better than the petty trollips and guttersnipes who populated these sorts of places?

As she mulled these disturbing notions Belinda tried to relieve the burning itch by shifting her weight from foot to foot, an action which caused her bottom cheeks to wiggle provocatively.  Her little dance was rewarded with an amused chuckle from the principal, and Belinda, embarrassed, froze.

“He’s loving every minute of this!” Belinda fumed. “He loves watching me squirm.” Belinda, once again in Professorial mode, held fast, determined not to give the old goat the satisfaction.

Phhh…Phhh…Phhh…  The breeze blew.  Tickle, tickle.  Tickle, tickle!

Belinda had studied spanking with the cool and dispassionate eye of a seasoned academic, and she understood all too well the psychology of what was happening to her. Like Belinda, all of the young women in this institution were over 18. The juvenile uniform, the baring of her bottom, and now her shameful corner time were carefully designed to rob her of her adult identity and reduce her to the status of a naughty brat getting her just desserts.

When Belinda was ordered into the corner the principal reprimanded her for placing her laced fingers behind rather than atop her head, as if it made a difference.  Then he ordered to arch her bottom up “properly” and punctuated his command with a sharp slap across her bare posterior.  As intended, the Professor’s harsh, condescending tone reinforced Belinda feeling of being too stupid to even do her corner time correctly.

Yet the fact that she understood the process did not lessen its effectiveness; if anything, it simply added to her sense of helpless humiliation.  Belinda KNEW she was an accomplished and educated professional, and yet as she stood in the corner she felt her self confidence and sense of maturity ebb with each pass of the oscillating fan.

“I hope I do well in my classes. I don’t want my teachers to paddle me!”

Belinda banished the absurd thought from her mind, and reminded herself that she was a teacher, not a reformatory delinquent, despite her present predicament.  

Phhhh... Phhhh… Phhh... Oh, how her bottom itched!

“I hope the other girls like me. I hope I fit in.”

Belinda struggled to regain her senses. “I am an adult. I don’t need to ‘fit in’ with a bunch of snotty nosed delinquents at the reformatory. That’s what he wants me to think. That’s why I’m doing corner time in this ridiculous uniform!”

Phhh…phhh….phhh..  Tickle, tickle.  

“It was stupid of me to ask to touch the cane! I must learn to be more respectful of the instrument of my just correction!”

Phhh…phhh… phhh…  Tickle, tickle.  

“I should have placed my hands ON TOP of my head. I’m such a dumb bunny!”

Belinda finally succumbed to her embarrassment and once again shifted her weight slightly in a desperate attempt to relieve the itch. This time, her reward was the principal’s stern voice. “Stop fidgeting, girl!"

Belinda Krüger, student of psychology, knew that the words “fidget” and “girl” had been deliberately chosen for their humiliation value, and it infuriated her. But Belinda Krüger, reformatory delinquent, realized how easy it would be for the principal to flip her over his knee and give her a lesson in manners. The delinquent overruled the professor as Belinda steeled herself to serve her corner time like a good girl.

Belinda’s regression into the role of a naughty teenager was cut short by the horrifying sound of a doorknob turning…

Belinda’s mind raced!  Her principal had invited her faculty advisor, Professor Winters, to visit, but Belinda was hoping that her corner time would conclude before his arrival.

Professor Winters was sexist and old fashioned, and Belinda knew that he didn’t approve of women professors. Despite her outstanding work, he had treated Belinda dismissively, at least until Belinda had filed a complaint with the University’s Ombudsman about his use of the condescending words “child” and “young lady” and his incessant “compliments” about her lovely face and figure.

Professor Winters was the department chair, which made it a high risk move. But the Ombudsman threat of an early retirement worked its magic, and the old toad had been positively deferential to Belinda every since.  

Two years later, Belinda finally felt that she had earned Professor Winters respect as an intellectual peer, and he was the last person she wanted to have see her serving her corner time.

Despite her embarrassment at her nakedness, Belinda was relieved to hear the voice of the principal’s secretary, Miss Rawlings. “You had wanted me to lockup Miss Krüger’s things, sir?” she said, referring to the box on the principal’s desk that contained Belinda’s purse and street clothes.

“Actually, I’d like you to mail it away to permanent storage.”  

“Permanent storage?” Miss Rawlings asked, surprised. “I thought she was only going to be here for six weeks.”

 “I had thought so, too,” the principal said, his voice tinged with sadness. “However judging from her impudence I’m not sure that six weeks will suffice. Do you know what this impudent rascal said? She asked to play with my cane!”

“I never!” Miss Rawlings said, shocked. “I certainly hope you gave her what for!”

"See for yourself,” the principal replied.

Belinda flushed as the bovine secretary moved in for a closer look.  Belinda desperately wanted to lower her skirt and cover her bottom but dared not. Instead, she kept her hands on top of her head, and out of the corner of her eye watched as the smug, smiling secretary relished her humiliation.  

Belinda knew Miss Rawlings type well from the University, and had pegged her the moment she had walked into the principal’s office.  A bitter old crone trapped in low paying administrative position, resentful of any younger women’s looks, ambition and success. In her crisp and well tailored business suit it was obvious to both of them that Belinda was everything that she would never be, and the old hag resented Belinda instantly.

Fortunately, Professor Belinda knew how to handle her. When given an ounce of power, the bitter shrews were more abusive, capricious, and cruel than even their harshest superiors – unless, of course, you let them know at once who was in charge.

“Young ladies waiting to see the principal sit there,” she had said when Belinda had entered, pointing to three small, hard wooden stools next to the principal’s door.

Belinda simply ignored her and plopped herself down on the couch outside of the principal’s office, and browsed through Miss Rawlings edition of COSMOPOLITIAN. Miss Rawlings glared daggers at her, but Belinda had smiled, confident in her intellectual superiority.

Of course now the tables had turned, and Miss Rawlings was relishing every moment of Belinda’s humiliating tumble. “My, you did teach her quite the lesson, didn’t you, sir?” Miss Rawlings said, toadying up to her boss. “I imagine you’re not feeling so snotty now, are you missy?”

“No, Frau” Belinda replied meekly. Belinda despised having to kiss up to the vengeful old bitty, but she was acutely aware that the principal (and his cane) were watching…

“Poor dear!”, Miss Rawlings said, feigning sympathy. “The classroom desks have wooden seats, and you’ll be sitting on your stripes for hours. It will be like frying your bottom on a griddle.”

“She’s been warned already not to fidget,” the principal said sternly.

“Oh, no, you mustn’t fidget,” Miss Rawlings chided. “Fidgeting only signals your bottom is itching for more, and the teacher will take you right over his knee, in front of the whole class. Then you’ll have something to fidget about!”

Belinda clenched her teeth as Miss Rawlings leaned in close to her face and smiled. “Still, it’s for the best.  The cane is a harsh master, but a fool will learn from no other.”

Belinda bristled at the word “fool” but held her position as the vengeful Miss Rawlings admonished her to “be good” and then playfully patted her bare bottom before leaving to make the address label.

The casualness with which the old woman touched her backside startled Belinda, and triggered another horrifying thought. “I wonder if she’ll have the authority to spank me, too. I suppose she will…she is a member of the staff, and I’m a student now.”  

The thought of a session over the hateful Miss Rawling’s knee gave Belinda more to chew on as the devilish fan continued its agonizing caress.

Belinda’s heart pounded as once again she heard the doorknob turn.

“It is Professor Winter’s!” she thought.  “My academic advisor is here, and he’s going to see my bare bottom!”

Belinda was again strangely relieved by the sound of Miss Rawling’s voice.  “UPS man!” she said cheerfully. “Now, let’s get this mailing label stuck on so that Miss Krüger’s nice things can be tucked away safe, sound, and well out of reach!’

Belinda wasn’t surprised at Miss Rawling’s joyous tone, but she was startled when she heard a low wolf whistle followed by a male voice exclaiming, “Well, well, well.  It looks like someone got a lesson in minding their betters!”

It was the UPS man! Miss Rawlings had brought the UPS man into pick up the box containing her clothes, and he was ogling her naked bottom!

Now the full magnitude of Belinda’s predicament struck her. Belinda had been born with the proverbial silver spoon in her mouth and was accustomed to a life of privilege and ease. School, like everything else, was easy. Belinda was smart, wealthy, and successful, and had naturally become accustomed to lording it over people. Indeed, Belinda regarded the various maids and servants who waited on her hand and foot as mere accessories.

Now a common delivery man was staring at her bare backside!

“That’s one fine looking ass,” the delivery man observed, “although if those two moons belonged to me, I’d do more than just spank them!”  

Belinda clenched her teeth as the secretary, principal, and the impossibly low and vulgar delivery man shared a laugh at her expense.

“I’ll have his job for that!” Belinda thought. True enough, in the past Belinda had sacked people for far less. As their laughter burned her ears, Belinda was struck by another thought. “I don’t even know who he is.  He can see my bare bottom, but I can’t even turn around to see his face!”

Then it hit her. She was no longer a successful heiress, associate college professor, and PhD student.  She was now just another reformatory delinquent, and the delivery man had every RIGHT to ogle her freshly spanked bottom. After all, he was a decent and respectable member of society, and she was just another well spanked little slut.

As a reformatory prisoner, Belinda owned nothing. She had no money, no credit cards, and no identification. She was who they said she was. Even the humbling uniform she was wearing could be taken from her at any time.  

It was humiliating to have to show the delivery man her spanked backside, but Belinda knew she was lucky to be wearing any clothes at all.

For the first time in her life, Belinda would need to watch her step. Everyone she met would be her superior, from her teachers to the secretaries to the janitors. What’s worse, her panties could be lowered and her bottom could be spanked for the tiniest infraction, for the merest hint of disrespect…

Belinda watched helplessly as her clothes, money, purse, identification, and credit cards were hauled away by the smiling UPS man. Belinda knew that box was her sole means of escape, and now it was one more cardboard box on some nameless truck destined for parts unknown…

Belinda had become so accustomed to the traffic through the principal’s office that she didn’t flinch when she heard the doorknob turn again. However her indifference switched to panic when she heard her academic advisor’s familiar voice, “Good to see you again, Frank. How are you today?”

Belinda’s worst fears were realized. Professor Winters had arrived, and Belinda was still trapped in her corner!

Belinda pressed her nose tightly into the wall, hoping in vain to disappear, an action that had the unfortunate side effect of causing her bottom to arch up at a most proactive angle.

Belinda blushed crimson as the two men exchanged pleasantries and sat across from each other on the comfortable, overstuffed couches in front of the fireplace. No doubt by coincidence the seating arrangement offered both of the old lechers a lovely view of Belinda’s deliciously bare bottom.

“Six of the best, with one for good luck!” Professor Winters chuckled, admiring his old friend’s handiwork. “I see you haven’t lost your touch, Frank. But you should have tried the paddle!”

“Well, if we can’t keep these young scamps on their toes, then it will suffice to keep them touching them!”

Both men shared a hearty laugh at this display of scholastic wit.  And then, to Belinda’s utter shock and surprise, the conversation shifted to football!

“They’re ignoring me on purpose,” Belinda thought. “By talking about their inane sports they’re proving that my corner time is no big deal and that they can pull down my pants and paddle my buns whenever they fancy. I’m just another delinquent now, and I’ll answer to the cane, and touch my toes, and do my corner time while they chat, just like all the rest.

Her understanding of their strategy didn’t make the psychology of her humiliation any less effective.  Belinda could actually feel her confidence and self esteem drain away as she slid helplessly into her new identity as a naughty schoolgirl.

However, as the subject returned to the more pressing topic of “correction”, Belinda realized another reason for her advisor’s seeming indifference. “If you ask me, what the young women of today need is to have their panties taken down for a good bottom warming!” he humped. “Speaking of which, what have you done with that little minx Belinda?  Has she arrived yet?”

“He doesn’t recognize me!” Belinda thought. “He doesn’t know I’m here!”  

At first, Belinda was confused. She had seen Professor Winters several times a week, sometimes almost daily, for the last two years. Surely he recognized her!

Then it hit her.  “He’s not looking at my face. He’s looking at my bare bum. He doesn’t recognize me because I’m not a well dressed professional, I’m an impudent school girl with her stripes on display.”

For a moment, Belinda hoped that the principal would let her maintain her facade, and let her faculty advisor continue to think that he was ogling the bare bottom of some nameless trollop. However soon even that tiny hope was dashed.

“You’re looking at her,” the principal said proudly. “Belinda, turn around and greet your Professor.”

Belinda hesitated for a moment.  In her present undressed state she didn’t want to “greet” anyone, least of all her faculty advisor.  But she also knew that her principal wouldn’t hesitate to discipline her in front of Professor Winters, a thought so chilling that it made Belinda almost dizzy with panic.

Belinda demurely covered her crotch, and turned to face the music.  

The enormous SMILE on Professor Winter’s face spoke volumes, but the principal seemed less pleased. “I told you to turn around, not lower your hands, Miss Krüger. Did the cane teach you nothing of obedience?”

Belinda desperately wanted to pull up her panties and unpin her skirt. Her uniform, as humiliating as it was, at least offered her a semblance of dignity. But for Belinda dignity was no longer an option.  “Obedience” was the word of the day.

Belinda placed her hands on her head, and bit her lip as her disgusting advisor leered at her, and drank in the sight of everything he had ever wished to see.

“Ah, Miss Krüger!” Professor Winters chuckled. “I didn’t recognize you…in uniform.”

“Quite understandable,” the principal chuckled.

The principal turned his attention to the blushing Belinda. “You may pull up your panties and lower your skirt, Belinda.  Your corner time is complete.”

Belinda quickly complied. She felt relieved, but defeated. Despite her mental struggles to resist, the corner time had done its insidious work and the self assured college professor now felt every bit the penitent school girl.  Belinda could only imagine where her punishment fantasy would take her next.

As if reading his student’s mind, Professor Winters asked, “What’s next on the schedule for this little girl?”

“If you’d like to, you can take her down to the dorm.”

Professor Winters said nodded.

“You may wish to take a hairbrush along, in case this impudent piece of baggage gets lippy,” the principal counseled.

“That’s quite alright, Frank,” Professor Winters chuckled. “My hand will be more than sufficient to administer a memorable correction. Besides, in Belinda’s case I definitely want to get a feel for the situation…”

A Young Woman Does not 'Touch' the Cane, the Cane Touches Her

Belinda Krüger felt every bit the crisp professional as she crossed the office to greet the principal of the Jameson Reformatory. Although only 25, she was already a rising star at her new American University, and in her stylish worsted wool blue suit, dressed the part.

"I'd like to thank you for taking the time to meet with me today, Herr," she said, shaking the principal's hand.  "I've been having a bit of trouble with my Doctorial dissertation, and my department chair seems to think that you might be of some assistance."

"Yes, I spoke with him this morning," the principal said, sinking back comfortably into his large leather chair.  "Have a seat, Miss Krüger."

Belinda sat down on the chair opposite the principal.  Unlike the principal's comfortable perch Belinda's chair was hard and wooden and Belinda fidgeted a bit to find a comfortable position. 

"Your chairman told me that you were one of his most promising Doctorial candidates," the principal said, looking Belinda up and down.  "But he didn't mention what an attractive young woman you are.  And so sharply dressed!  I am impressed."

"Thank you sir," Belinda said, squirming slightly under the principal's appraising gaze. "In fact, my doctorial degree is why I'm here.  My graduate dissertation is on corporal punishment, but as you know, there are not many schools that still practice it, and so I was hoping..."

"Yes, your advisor faxed me a copy of your outline draft today.  A rather weak start, if you don't mind my saying so.  Your conclusions totally lack empirical data and seem to be largely based on your opinions."

"Well, yes, but it is just a rough draft.  My advisor thought that if I spent the summer semester here, gathering data, that I would write a paper that would do the subject proud."

"I'm sure you could.  Have you ever experienced the strap, cane or paddle?"

Belinda bit her lip and squirmed in her chair, stunned by the casual bluntness of the principal's query.  "No, Herr, I haven't.  I was always... a good girl.  I never got into trouble."

 "I see.  And yet judging from your paper you're obviously curious about the subject."

 "Yes, I think my lack of experience is why I am so fascinated by it. We always want what we can not have. I was always wondered what it would be like, but my school did not believe in it, and it is too late now. Of course, even though I am too old for a proper school punishment, I still enjoy reading about it."

"No wonder your paper is so thin. Reading a book is a poor substitute for firsthand experience."

Belinda watched nervously as the principal opened a large cabinet behind his desk to reveal a daunting arsenal of canes, tawses, and straps. Belinda watched bug eyed, mouth agape, as the principal removed a wicked looking cane from its hook and SWISHED it through the air.

SWISH!  SWISH!  The principal smiled as Belinda jumped in her chair.  Why was the wooden seat suddenly so uncomfortable?

"If I were caning you, this is the one I'd use," the principal said, smiling broadly as he proudly bent the cane into a half circle.  "Flexible, but with a wicked sting.  Specifically crafted for a tight, curvy backside like yours."

Belinda nervously bit her lip as the principal expertly flexed and swished the wicked looking cane.   

"May I...may I touch it?" Belinda asked tentatively, her heart racing.

"You most certainly may not," the principal thundered.  "This is an educational tool, not a toy, and it is not to be pawed or played with. When a young woman visits this office, she does not 'touch' the cane, the cane touches her.  If you were my student instead of my guest, I'd have your panties off you for such impertinence!" The principal ended his tirade by SWISHING his cane in the air several times.  "Do I make myself clear, young lady?"  

"Crystal clear, Herr" Belinda said, feeling every bit the chastened schoolgirl.  "I did not mean to offend. It was stupid of me."

"Yes, it was.  Still I must remember that you are, despite your deceptively adult attire, still a student, and it is in your nature to make mistakes, just at it is in my nature to correct you."

"Yes, Herr" Belinda replied meekly.  "Thank you, Herr."

The principal placed the cane back on the hook and closed the cupboard door, much to Belinda's relief.  "Now, let us return to the subject at hand.  You wish to study our school's extensive corporal punishment archive and learn our disciplinary techniques for the next six weeks."

Belinda looked up in confusion as the principal passed her a stapled form.

"Your department chair sent me your college file, and my secretary has prepared your enrollment forms. I will require your signature at the bottom of each page."

Belinda looked at the forms in amazement.  "But these are...student enrollment forms!" she said, not quite believing what she was seeing.   "Reformatory enrollment forms, with my name filled in!"

"Yes, fortunately the next six weeks corresponds perfectly with our summer term.  As a student, you will be free to study our archive during your study halls, or after your other classes."  

Belinda looked up at him in disbelief.  "But I am a teacher, not a student."

"But you didn't come here to teach, you came here to learn. I can't have a stranger pawing through my records, independent of our schools rules and regulations. Of course, if you'd rather, I can call up your academic advisor and tell him to you are unwilling to do the necessary research to complete your degree."

"No, it is not that," Belinda said, quickly scanning the forms.  "It is.... this second page is a corporal punishment form.  It says you have the right to punish me...on my bare bottom!"

"It most certainly does. Most young women enter this institution after committing some misdemeanor, rather than for purely academic reasons, but the reason for your incarceration will scarcely matter when you are touching your toes.  I can hardly be expected to cane you correctly if I can't space your lines."

"It DOES matter," Belinda protested.  "I am too old to be..."

"Age is a matter of maturity and behavior, not chronology.  All of the students in this institution are 18 years or older.  I've had countless young women in their thirties bent over this very desk."

Belinda looked nervously at the massive, foreboding desk, and swallowed.

The principal smiled, relishing Belinda's obvious trepidation.  "Since you fancy yourself an adult, I'm giving you an adult decision.  You said you were interested in the subject of corporal punishment, and wished to learn more. You said you regretted never having experienced a proper school punishment.  I'm giving you the opportunity to rectify a deficit in your education, Miss Krüger, and earn an 'A' on your dissertation, assuming of course that you have the pluck and the brains to accept my generous offer."

"There are still a few points I'd like to discuss," Belinda said.

"There is nothing to discuss.  By signing these papers you will be surrendering your adult rights and privileges, and will place yourself entirely in my care. Ordinarily these papers would be signed by your parents, if you were over 18 but under 21, or by a representative of the court, but since you are a so-called adult, you may sign them yourself."

Belinda hesitated.

"I don't have all day, Miss Krueger.  I need your decision now."

The principal smiled like the cat that swallowed the canary as Belinda signed each page of the form and handed it in. 

"Give me your purse," the principal said curtly. 

A confused Belinda handed the principal her stylish leather purse. "I'll be locking this in storage. You won't need it while you're here."

"But my identification and money are in there," Belinda protested.  "My car keys, too!"

"You will be issued a school ID card shortly.  As for driving, you're not going anywhere. This is a reformatory, not the Hilton, and we don't allow early check outs."

"I need my cell phone."  

Again, Miss Krüger, this is a reformatory, not the Hilton. Cell phones are forbidden for the students. And now take your uniform!"

"My...my uniform?" Belinda gasped.  "You can not be serious!"

Belinda watched dumbstruck as the principal placed the boxes containing her school uniform on the desk.

"Yes, your school uniform. "As I said, those adult clothes you are wearing are quite lovely, but wholly inappropriate for the lesson you need to learn.  I will give you five minutes to change. "

"I am an adult.  Surely you can not expect me to dress like some...reformatory delinquent!"

"Unfortunately for you, my dear, that is exactly what you are.  This contract gives me the legal authority to treat you as I wish. If you do not put on your uniform willingly, it shall be my pleasure to call the matrons, and to watch as you are stripped naked as a jaybird. You have five minutes, and I advise you to use the time wisely.  You may place your street clothes in the box."

With that, the principal left Belinda alone in the office, closing the door behind him.

Belinda opened the box and took out the uniform skirt, holding it against her body.  "I can't wear this!" she said, her voice a whisper.

She reached into the box again - worse news here!  Belinda stared in disbelief at her white schoolgirl panties, and her new school tie.

"This is ridiculous!" she muttered.

Belinda sighed and looked at the clock on the wall anxiously.  Tick-tock, Tick-tock.  

Shaking her head in dismay at the unfairness of it all, Belinda carefully folded her expensive wool jacket and began to unbutton her blouse.  "It could be worse."

* * *

 "On your feet, young lady!  I didn't give you permission to sit!"  

 Belinda, looking quite smart in her new school uniform, leapt to her feet as the principal re-entered the office. "Stand over there, where I can see you."  

Belinda didn't feel like a fashion show, but she knew she had no choice.  Clenching her teeth, she quickly obeyed her principal's command.

"Good.  Now turn around.  No, slowly.  I want to get the full effect." 

Belinda, humiliated beyond words, bit her lip and turned slowly in a circle as the beaming principal relished her humiliating tumble from college instructor to reformatory delinquent.

"This skirt is much too short." Belinda protested.  "I look like a school girl."

"That is what you are.  True, it does show off your lovely long legs, but it also makes it a simple matter to raise your skirt and give your naughty bottom the discipline it deserves. Speaking of which..."

Belinda trembled as she watched the principal cross the room and remove the wicked looking cane he had threatened her with only a few minutes before. 

A few minutes before when she had been a teacher, the cane had been frightening.  Now that she was a naughty schoolgirl, the cane sent shivers down her spine!

"SWISH!  SWISH!"  Belinda stood pigeon toed and nervously chewed her nails as the principal began his lecture.  "As I recall, you asked to touch the cane, apparently regarding it as some sort of toy that you could trifle with for your amusement.  I think a proper application of this instrument will disabuse you of that silly notion, and others beside."

"Bitte, Herr!" Belinda whined, sounding more like a naughty child than she intended.  "I have not even done nothing!"

"I haven't Done ANYTHING, young lady! Goodness! Your grammar has suddenly become atrocious, and it's clear I need to get you enrolled in an English class straight away. As for my reasons for punishing you, perhaps you've forgotten that I read your slovenly, shoddy, and poorly researched outline, and endured your cheek this afternoon, as you rather cockily explained that you were too old to be punished."

"I am too old for a spanking!" Belinda whined.

"Another supposition unsupported by evidence.  Bend over the desk."

 "Aber Herr!"

"You're cheek has earned you three strokes.  If you don't want to make it six, you'll follow directions, and stay in position."

Belinda was an adult.  She had a master's degree, with honours!  This couldn't be happening!  It couldn't be real!

"Over the desk, young lady.  Grab the edge.  I think you'll find some groove marks on the end, where your fellow miscreants have dug their fingers into the wood."

And 25 year old Belinda Küger assumed the humiliating pose of a schoolgirl bent for chastisement. "It is really happening", she thought. "I'm really going to be caned!"

As bad as it was, things were about to get much, much worse.  Belinda blushed crimson as the smiling principal used the cane to casually flip up her skirt, and casually inserted his fingers into the waistband of her white, regulation schoolgirl panties.

"Bitte, Herr, not on the bare!" she said, reaching behind her to prevent their embarrassing descent.  "Let me keep a shred of dignity!"

"You should have thought of the consequences before you disrespected the cane" he shot back.

"But it is so HUMILIATING!"  she wailed.

"Humiliation is a key part of your punishment.   When I spank you I will to strip you not only of your panties, but of your dignity. You're going to cry, and scream, and wiggle your saucy bottom like the naughty little minx that you are. Now hands back into position, before I round your stroke count to six of the best!"

Belinda grasped the edge of desk and sniveled back tears of distress as the smiling principal lowered her panties to her knees.  

"There's a backside made for the cane," he chuckled, giving Belinda's bare bottom a playful squeeze.  "Embarrassing, isn't it?  Taking girls like you down a peg or two is part of my job, Miss Krüger. It's what I do. Now raise your bottom up and spread your legs wide."

Belinda looked back over her shoulder, scandalized. "Sir! I can not! If I spread my legs you will... You will see everything. It would be indecent!"  

"You're backside must be properly presented for punishment, young lady.  The only indecency here is your refusal to follow the directions of your betters.  Now do as you're told, before I make it a baker's dozen!"

Blushing crimson but fearful of the threat, Belinda arched her bottom upwards, and spread her legs "Ah, that's better," the principal purred.  "That's what I call a view.  Your dissertation glosses over the humiliation a young woman feels upon having her bottom bared and spread for a spanking.  Do you understand that humiliation now, young lady?  Is the schoolgirl learning her lesson?"

"Yes, Herr!"  Belinda wailed. "Very much so, Herr!  Oh, please let me close my legs. This is so embarrassing!"

"It's supposed to be embarrassing. As for closing your legs, we're just getting started. Now, I believe this is the so-called-toy you wished to play with," the principal said, SWISHING his cane through the air.  He smiled as Belinda's buttocks clenched in helpless anticipation.  "Do you still want to play with it?"

"Nein, Herr," Belinda squeaked.

"Well, that's too bad, because it's about to play a lively tune on that naughty bottom of yours," he shot back.

Belinda winced as the principal teasingly tapped-tapped-tapped the cane against her backside. "Do you feel that? You'll soon discover this cane is not a toy, but a subtle and precise instrument, designed specifically for the punishment of bouncy, shapely arses like yours. It's extra flexible, so it will hug all of your lovely curves. I don't think this cane likes you, Belinda. You flippantly asked to play with it, and in doing so demonstrated a disgraceful disregard for its authority.  Now that you are a student here, you will learn to treat this cane with the deference and respect that it deserves. Now, I want you to count out each stroke and say, 'Thank you sir, for my just correction.' Up until now, I have been lenient with you, but if you break position, we'll double the count.  Do you understand these instructions, girl?"

"Ja, Herr!" Belinda replied, steeling herself for the ordeal ahead.

SWISH!  Belinda actually heard the stroke before she felt it, so rapid was the descent, and so shocking was the impact.  He had hit her lovely bottom dead center, and it took a moment for the pain to register.

But register it did, and Belinda, oblivious to the spectacle she was making of herself, was soon rubbing her bottom and hopping from foot to foot, much to the principal's amusement. 

"AUA!!!" It stings! It stings soooo much!"

"That's a lovely dance, Miss Krüger, but this is hardly the time or the place. Since you failed to thank me, that stroke will not count. In addition, you broke position, and your dance recital will cost you three more strokes!"

"Aber Herr!"

"Back in position, girl, before I make it an even dozen!"

Mustering all of her willpower, Belinda once again resumed the humiliating pose. 

"Bottom up, legs apart.  Don't make me tell you again!"

Fighting back the tears of shame, Belinda spread her legs.  Another playful tap-tap-tap, as the principal enjoyed the sight of her fidgeting, squirming cheeks.  SWISH!

"AUTSCH!!! ONE! Thank you, sir, for my just correction!"

"You're quite welcome, Belinda," the principal said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "See how much more pleasant things are when you cooperate? Now be a good girl, and ask for the next stroke."

Belinda clenched her teeth as she followed the principal's humiliating command. The caning was bad enough, but to be made to ASK for it was agonizing!

"Please, Herr, may I have the next stroke?"

"Of course.  Do you still think you're too old to be spanked?"  SWISH!

"AUTSCH!!! Mein Popo! TWO! No, Herr, I am not too old. Naughty girls are never too old for a spanking.  Thank you Herr, for my just correction!"

"Very good, Belinda.  You're learning."  Tap-tap-tap.  SWISH!

"AUTSCH!!!! THREE! AUA!!! Thank you sir, for my just correction! Oh, please sir, no more. My bottom is on fire!"

"It is the fire of your redemption" he chortled. "I'm glad the cane is making an impression", he said, as he playfully tapped it against her clenching cheeks. "Do you promise to always treat the cane with respect, and speak of it with the deference to which it is due?" SWISH!

"AUTSCH!!!! Mein Gott!! AUA!!!! AU!!! FOUR! Yes, Herr! I promise to always refer to the cane with deference and respect, sir.  And thank you, Herr, for my just correction!"

"Will you write a proper paper, and accurately describe the humiliation you feel now?"  SWISH!

"AUA!!!! AUTSCH!!! FIVE! Yes, Herr! I'll do my best, Herr. Thank you, Herr, for my just correction!"

"When so ordered, will you drop your panties, and touch your toes, and spread your legs, no matter who is watching?"  SWISH!

"AUTSCH!!! AUA!!!! AU!!! SIX! Yes, Herr! Thank you Herr, for my just correction!"

"You're quite welcome, Miss Krüger.  I'm pleased that I could be of service.  Now remain in position, while I return the cane to its position of honor in the principal's cabinet."

Belinda watched with trembling lip and tear stained eyes as the principal lovingly placed the cane that she now feared above all else back on its hook, and closed the cabinet door.  

"Very good, Belinda.  You may rise."

Belinda winced and stood up, gingerly rubbing her bottom.  She quickly reached down for her panties, which had slid to her ankles.  

"Did I give you permission to raise your panties?" the principal thundered.  

"No, Herr" Belinda admitted.  

"Then you should bloody well keep them down, shouldn't you?"

"Yes, sir" Belinda replied, in a voice she hoped was meek enough to avoid further "correction."

"Use these safety pins to fasten your skirt up in the front and back. Your University advisor is going to be here in a few minutes, and I want you to put your nose against that wall, and quietly do your corner time, while we discuss your research project."

"You can not be serious! Corner time? With my professor here? But...he'll see my naked Popo!"

"He'll see quite a bit more than that if you don't get your nose into that corner" he barked, punctuating his command with a sharp SLAP across her freshly caned backside.

"Nose against the wall, young lady, and hands on your head. No rubbing!"

Troublemaker

Awful Night

Trying to get the magic crystals she-werewolf got caught by an enchanted tree and got whipped by the vines for all night long. But even when dawn came and she turned back into a human, her torture was still far from the end...

Ready or not, here I come

"AUTSCH!!! Mein Popo! AUA!!! But this even... AUA!!! ...was not me! AUTSCH!!!"

"Oh, really? My window is broken by a tennis ball, and you're only one girl with the tennis racquet hanging around! For me things are very obvious!"

"AU!!! But... AUA!!!"

Sore Ass Dragon Bitch

"Sorry Lily, but every time I let you in, you rip apart my life. I think, it's time to take some measures!"

A Noisy Day in Skyrim

"OWIEE!!!"

"Hadn't we agreed, that you'll stay with the Dragonborn, while I'll look for that damned crypt?!"

"OW!!! But I was by him! OW!!!"

"Oh, yeah? And where is he now? We should all meet in this tavern!"

"Yes, but... OWIEE!!! We were passed by a cave and he asked me to wait him outside... OW!!! So I did, but he didn't return... OWIEE!!!"

"You did what?! Hadn't you even thought, that that something could happen to him in that cave?! Why didn't you follow him?!"

"HOWL!!! But he ordered... OWIEEE!!!"

"Does it really matter, what had he ordered? Dovakin is too important for the world to losing him such a stupid way! You should sneak after him! Werewolves are always in trouble!"

"HOWL!!!"

Smoking Kills

"AUTSCH!!! Mein Popo! AUTSCH!!! AUA!!!"

"Just try to imagine, Miss Krüger, that smoking harms your lungs just like this paddle harms your backside, but instead of your sore butt, your lungs won't recover that quick. Maybe even never!"

Environmentally Friendly

"AUTSCH!!! Mein Popo! AUTSCH!!!"

"As you may see, Mademoiselle Krüger, everything on my farm is environmentally friendly! Especially - these birches, which are so necessary, when it's necessary to teach a lesson to arrogant and nasty tourist from a big city!"