Thursday, 7 October 2010

A Tale to Come - Even if not one of Mine

A correspondent – Madmonkey - recently made the following comment referring to a story posted as a series of comments attached to my last post: “How about a description of the uniform itself? Perhaps also a bit about how the uniform she now wears compares to what she normally wears. Details make the story seem so much more real to the reader.“ To which I would add: my Sentiments exactly, old chap. That was one aspect that so often I found disappointingly lacking in the literature I used to buy through the 1980s and 90s and subsequently encountered 'on-line'. The absence detailed descriptions of suitably humiliating uniforms in spanking literature was one of several related frustrating and unsatisfying points that finally drove me to begin to writing my own stuff. Other sadly missing aspects included a lack of originality and imagination in the depiction of said uniforms - where some detail was discussed – a marked lack of imagination applied to the matter of punishment, with a near total neglect of psychological aspects and other subtle coercive methods, little thought given to the development of some sort of at least semi-plausible scenario (and even a casual perusal of near-history supplies plenty) and a tendency to escalating repetition when it came to an author's 'pet thing'. These are all aspects that I set out to correct in my own writing (to what extent I have so far succeeded I leave up to the reader to decide). Suffice it to say that there are quite detailed accounts of the design of the uniforms as worn both by those in authority and those in their charge within the pages of the first two volumes of the INSTITUTIONALISED series – there are even more detailed descriptions – both institutional and from the possibilities that open up within the domestic-discipline arena with a little imagination - peppering the pages of the upcoming volume. At the same time, in my writing I try to remain cognisant of the final point I made above – the danger of the accusation of repetitiveness, thus the comment I made in an earlier posting in these pages.

The story to which Mr Madmonkey was referring has been developing in installments – as I have said – as a series of comments, and so might be missed by some (I know that I don't always read the comments posted when visiting a blog). For that reason - and for improved clarity - I shall shortly be reposting the anonymous contributors work here, in one or two chunks depending on length, for all to see and appreciate.

While on the subject of repletion; in order to keep the comments section manageable, having gathered together all of the work of Mr Anonymous posted thus far and amalgamated it as a single post (or two) here in the main section I intend to then delete the duplicated sections that were apparently created due to some sort of communications error in the comments section.

I personally would love to read more of this chap's stuff and I think that if there is a fair amount more to come – and I for one hope there is – it might be easier if the writer could kindly send the sections direct to me via email. I'm easy to contact – and always up for a chat! My email is:

Cheers, folks!


Anonymous said...

THANK YOU! I will try to e-mail you this weekend, but until then may I continue to post a few choice excerpts under this thread?

And yes, I will definately include a description of the uniform!

Anonymous said...

Natalie would not learn of her sentence until the Headmaster or the Headmistress found time in their busy schedules to inform her. Natalie spent the next two weeks in a state of fevered anxiety as she waited the verdict.

By the time the Headmistress called her into her office, Natalie had steeled herself for the worst. But the worst was far worse than she could possibly imagine.

As befitting her status the very nervous Natalie stood in front of the desk with her hands at her sides as the Headmistress cheerfully misted her plants.

“An indefinite detention?” Natalie asked, utterly baffled. “How long will it last?”

“Nobody knows, dear” the Headmistress replied in a pleasantly patronizing tone. “That’s why it’s indefinite.”

“But how am I to be released?”

The Headmistress smiled as she misted the next plant. “You will be held in detention until your lawyer files a writ requesting a bail hearing,” she replied.

“But my lawyer doesn’t know I’m here,” Natalie explained. “No one does.”

“Yes, and you cannot tell them, or file the writ yourself, since reformatory inmates are not allowed to write letters or use the telephone. It does create quite the amusing paradox, does it not?”

The Headmistress chuckled merrily, as if she were perplexing Natalie with a particularly comic riddle. Natalie, who was not amused, but stunned, stared back at her with her mouth agape.

But still the worst was yet to come. The Headmistress paused to savor the aroma of her beautiful flowers before explaining. “I am telling you this today because you have been sentenced to receive a baker’s dozen with the birch on Judgment Night, one week from today. This afternoon you will cut your switches and place them in the brine, so they will be supple and elastic for your punishment.”

“But I’ve done nothing wrong!” Natalie cried. “You can’t whip me like I’m some…some…some…”

“Delinquent?” the Headmistress asked, smiling broadly as she supplied the flustered young actress with the crucial missing word. Yes we can, dear, for that is what you are. The indefinite detention allowed us to revoke your visitor’s status and reclassify you as such. We have a court order certifying you to be so, embossed with her Majesty’s seal. I wanted to show it to you before I placed it in your file.”

The Headmistress pointed Natalie toward a single sheet of paper lying on the desk. Natalie picked it up and began reading:

“Natalie Cox, having been found incorrigible, is hereby certified to be DELINQUENT…”

Natalie’s hands began to tremble so violently that she could read no more. She immediately recognized the keyword DELINQUENT as the term of art used to strip young women of all their legal rights. Delinquents had no right to counsel or appeal. They could be caned for the slightest offense… or for no offense whatsoever.

“But that isn’t even my name!” Natalie wailed.

“It is now. The court says it’s so. You are incorrigible, and on Justice Night your bottom will be bared and birched in front of the faculty, the Board of Governors, and their invited guests. You are being punished for “general impertinence.”

“What have I ever done that could be considered impertinent?” Natalie asked.

“Well nothing, specifically, which is why the charge is general. Now must I remind you that you are a certified delinquent, and if you question your sentence I may add a specific charge of impertinence to the general one and double your stripes?”

Natalie had much to say but knew her status as a delinquent terminated the conversation. Assuming her new role she stared meekly at her shoes. “No, Ma’am,” she replied meekly staring at her shoes. “Thank you for taking the time to explain my sentence to me.”

“It was my pleasure, Natalie,” the Headmistress replied. Natalie could tell from the smile on the old crone’s face that she was speaking the truth.


Anonymous said...

Another sample:

This particular Justice Night would prove to be a busy one as all the girls who had their sentences renewed also had birchings, strappings, or caning assigned to accompany their ginger-fresh sentences. Since there were 48 girls to be punished, the Headmaster decided to have six punishment horses placed on the stage. The girls would be punished in eight separate batches, six at a time.

Tana Nicholl, the 19 year old heiress who had made the mistake of accusing her influential stepmother of stealing from her, would be given the honor of riding horse number one in the first batch, with her stepmother watching from the front row. Her punishment number was 1.

Julie Johnson, the unfortunate Miss who had been caught drinking two months short of her 21st birthday, would ride the second horse in the 2rd batch. 6 +2. Her punishment number was 8.

Natalie Cox, the impertinent little hoyden with the insolently boyish haircut and the guilty look about her, was assigned the 4th horse in the 7th batch. The computation was simple: (6*6) + 4. Natalie’s punishment number was 40.

Natalie first saw her punishment number on the day she cut the switches for her birching. The whip master took her to the conservatory, and instructed Natalie as to the proper technique for cutting switches that would produce the maximum sting. Natalie had long fostered a prurient interest in corporal punishment, and on a purely academic level the lesson was fascinating. But Natalie’s enthusiasm was tempered by the knowledge that seven days from now the switches that she was cutting would be used to discipline her own tender bottom.

Natalie had placed the switches in a bucket of brine labeled, “Natalie Cox, #40.” Natalie knew the number meant something, but she had no idea what.

As an avid reader of the Blue Moon books, Natalie thought she understood how a Justice Night was conducted. But having only recently been declared delinquent, she failed to grasp the logistical particulars of how an impudent hoyden with a boyish haircut might be most efficiently whipped on a busy night when there were many such culprits to be disciplined. On Justice Night Natalie Cox would be tutored in these critical details in the harshest way imaginable, with her wrists and ankles buckled tightly into the punishment cuffs, and her naked thighs grasping the cold, smooth leather of punishment horse #4. It would be a lesson no book could teach.

Orage said...

This is fascinating! Instead of an actress, I would imagine a journalist wanting to have first-hand knowledge, as of course the people have a right to know.
Does Natalie happen to be in the 7th batch or is it deliberate? Is there any hidden motive behind the place allotted to each girl? Does #40 refer to the amount of strokes she will get.

Anonymous said...

Hi Orage!

First, thank you for writing. Until I read your post, I wasn't sure if anyone was reading this, or wanted me to continue.

There is a site called (now free) that contains Tibool's story of a pretty investigative journalist who goes undercover into a prison and then can't get out. I think you'll like it.

Natalie's number (40) is because she is on the 4th horse in batch #7. There are six batches of six girls each before her (36). Since she is on the 4th horse, her number is 36 + 4, or 40.

I am using your comments and questions to direct the story, so thank you so much for taking the time to reply.

Was there a hidden motive to assigning Natalie #40? Indeed there was. Read the next post to learn the tale!

Anonymous said...

Natalie Cox, #40!

Truthfully, if anyone had cared to perform even the most perfunctory of reviews they would have quickly discovered that Natalie Cox was being birched because her nervous fidgeting had made her LOOK guilty in Judge Harding’s harsh and unforgiving eyes, and because she had the misfortune to have a haircut of which his Lordship did not approve. No matter; Natalie was a delinquent, and no further review was required.

To most observers it might seem a tad capricious to birch Natalie’s bare bottom for an “offense” that would not even be a misdemeanor outside of the reformatory’s unforgiving walls. But with more than two score girls to be punished, there was no time to consider such niceties.

Guilty or innocent, when Justice night came Natalie Cox, wearing only a form fitting and very brief half shirt that barely covered her breasts and a tight pair of reformatory issue white underpants, nervously awaited justice with the other miscreants in one of the countless dismal cells beneath the gothic “Judgment Hall.”

Having taken a special interest in Natalie’s case, Judge Harding asked about her as soon as he arrived. Although he was assured that Natalie was waiting her turn “with the rest of ‘em,” Judge Harding nonetheless decided to take a brief stroll through the cellblock to verify with his own eyes that Natalie had been consigned to her proper place.

Natalie’s punishment number had been a matter of great concern to the Judge. The evening’s festivities were rather like a play. In Act I the first six girls would be brought out, strapped down over their punishment horses, and thrashed. Then the next six girls would be brought out, and Act II would begin.

With 48 girls on the roster it promised to be a long evening, and the Headmistress tried to sort the girls in a variety that would keep the audience entertained. Natalie, having been a famous movie star prior to her rebirth as Natalie Cox, had already drawn the attention of many guests anxious to see her get her first thrashing. Accordingly, the Headmistress put Natalie in the first batch of six, and assigned her a punishment #5.

But Judge Harding would have none of it. When given the preliminary list he insisted that Natalie be moved far back in the schedule, not last but towards the end, to reinforce the fact that she was in no way special. “There are no VIP passes or velvet ropes at the reformatory,” he thundered. “Let the little minx sweat bullets in the dungeon, waiting her turn as she watches the other girls disappear, one by one. Give her something to think about!”

As an afterthought, the Judge suggested that Natalie be assigned punishment horse #4. All of the punishment horses were old, but #4 was the oldest, dating back as far as Judgment Hall itself, all the way to the Middle Ages. #4 had been used to punish troublesome females for centuries, and had been ridden by witches, scolds, meddlesome social reformers, suffragettes, and countless nosey reporters. As a fan of the Blue Moon books himself, It amused Judge Harding to picture Natalie straining against the very same restraints that may have held Elaine Cox long ago.

As he strolled through the cellblock, Judge Harding spotted Natalie in a cell with 4 other girls. She was sitting on an ancient iron bench with her knees tucked under her chin, lost in her own worried thoughts.

As Judge Harding had hoped, Natalie was clearly worried, anxious, and distressed. But still he was unsatisfied. Natalie, frightfully cold, had placed her bare feet were on the bench to keep them off the freezing dungeon floor, and he strongly disapproved of disrespectful ruffians planting their dirty feet on other people’s furniture.

To Judge Harding Natalie’s resembled a petulant child sulking through her time out. Judge Harding’s eyes narrowed; she was impertinent; there was no doubt about that! “Best that the little minx enjoy sitting while she can,” he thought, as he stormed up the long flight of stone steps to check on Natalie’s switches.

Anonymous said...

Hi Annon

Your writings are very much appreciated, please do carry on.
Thanks for the info about the chainganggirls site, very nice.


Anonymous said...

Thank you, ALL! More comments = more chapters, so here is my response to your uniform query:

Natalie had long fantasized about being a reformatory delinquent, and had initially greeted her incarceration with relish. Still, it was frightfully embarrassing to have people see her in her school uniform! The blue skirt was much, much too short, and Natalie always found herself blushing when she noticed some smiling workman ogling her bare legs.

The rest of her ensemble was equally bad: white knee high socks, black school shoes, a plain white shirt, blazer, and a striped rep tie. Much to Natalie’s embarrassment, the badge on her uniform jacket loudly proclaimed her DELINQUENT. The smaller words beneath, “GoodGulf Reformatory” showed the institution to which she had been remanded, with cane, tawses, and paddles in the scrollwork to make it crystal clear precisely how Natalie was treated there.

As a movie star, Natalie was used to tailored designer gowns and expensive silk lingerie. In contrast, the standard issue white cotton underpants and half shirt she wore now were chosen because they were simple, durable, and easy to wash. More importantly, like the rest of her uniform, her underwear reinforced her institutionalized status.

When she had first been issued her uniform, Natalie, eager to see how she looked, dressed quickly. She felt a deliciously naughty tingle as she slipped on her plain white knickers and carefully tied her regulation school tie. The fact that they were quite worn made it all the more exciting to her, as it was wonderfully titillating to be wearing the used knickers and uniform of a genuine reformatory delinquent!

The image she saw in the mirror startled her. As an actress, Natalie knew how a good costume could make you look the part, but this was something altogether more. Although she was 27, with a haircut that didn’t cover her ears, her nails closely trimmed and her makeup scrubbed off, she was now quite simply a schoolgirl. Indeed, with her short skirt and her DELINQUENT badge Natalie could have been the cover model for GIRLS REFORMATORY or one of the other Blue Moon books she so relished.

Used to playing roles, Natalie didn’t comprehend the irrevocable nature of her transformation, at least not at first. Her first clue came as she walked back to the Headmaster’s study to model her uniform. Two of the gardners, gruff, common workman far beneath her, whistled at her, ogling her legs as she walked past.

Natalie, to her horror, realized that they didn’t recognize her, and assumed she was a naughty schoolgirl on her way to her thrashing!

“Looks like ‘aw little tomboy’s gonna get a dose of the ‘Kaaane,” the first workman said, in a thick cockney accent.

“Yeah,” his friend said loudly. “Touch yer’ toes, love, and he might only give ya’ six across your cute little bum!”

The men started laughing, and to her amazement Natalie found herself trying to tug her uniform skirt longer as she scurried away.

By the time she got to the Headmaster’s office Natalie was fighting back tears. She was surprised the men hadn’t recognized her, but truly astonished that she had reacted to their jeers not as a confident, powerful woman, but as a bashful, timid schoolgirl!

Over the next few weeks the cycle repeated endlessly, relentlessly crushing Natalie’s confidence and self-esteem like a pitiless grindstone. The staff members addressed her in the most patronizing way imaginable, and in return, Natalie found herself growing increasingly docile and compliant.

Unfortunately for Natalie, this meant by the time Mercy Night arrived she looked every bit the naughty schoolgirl, and Judge Harding felt no computation about taking the seemingly minor legal step of declaring her delinquent. Given the psychological power of her uniform, is it any wonder that Natalie greeted this outrage by staring at her shoes, and thanking her Headmistress for taking the time to explain her sentence to her?

Orage said...

Hi, Anonymous-the-writer!
I'm sure many of us read you, I wish they took time to give you some feedback!
You say "It was frightfully embarassing to have people see her in her school uniform". Now what people? Workmen and gardeners? There can't have been that many, and anyway used to the sight of those girls' rigouts.
By the way: "Goodgulf Reformatory", a good tribute to the writer we all know ;-)
This tale of yours is developing nicely behind Garth's back, you've laid cuckoo eggs in his nest, so to speak.

Toyntanen said...

Not entirely behind my back Orage! Besides; it is all great content for the blog, inspires new ideas and directions for me and differs entirely from my style, other than of course the delicious concept of unjustified, unwarranted incarceration - lovely. Sometime next week, when i have done a bit more on my own work, I am going to remove Anon's tale from the comments section, collate it in to a couple of properly structured chapters and put it up as a posting or two on the main part of the blog so that people like me that skim over blogs, missing the comments, get to see it. I do wish the guy would stop using the opportunity to advertise Blue Moon books (at least until they take my stuff as a couple of their titles). I have to own up to owning a couple of their books though - including the great Elaine Cox by the equally great Richard Manton, of Janus fame; a hugely influential work!

Anonymous said...

Thank you, Garth, for letting me post on your site, and thank you to Orage and Eddie and everyone who made a comment and helped the story progress.

Alas, Blue Moon and Richard Manton are not giving me a commmission, I'm merely citing them as an inspiration. :-)

One of the central ideas behind the story is that Natalie has been a naughty girl who has pleasured herself as she imagined what it might be like to be confined to a real reformatory. And Judge Harding is going to make all of her dreams come true.

I hope Goodgulf is reading, and enjoys the compliment. I love his writing.

Orage asked who had seen her in her uniform? This inspired the next chaper, a short treatise examining the most peculiuar humiliation of being seen as an inmate by someone who once knew you in your previous life.

Enjoy, and thanks again! COMMENTS WELCOME, PLEASE!!

Anonymous said...

Natalie’s first bitter lesson in how much her life was going to change came that morning, when the Headmaster summoned her to his office and brusquely informed her that since she had been declared delinquent she would have to endure the bureaucratic processing procedure ironically known as “Reception.”

Natalie was confused. She had surrendered all of her personal property when she had arrived, and had been fingerprinted and photographed for her mugshot when she was issued her new uniform.

“True,” the Headmaster said, looking at Natalie with a smile that made her feel seasick, “but since you were a guest we allowed you to change in private. Delinquents must submit to a thorough physical, including a detailed internal examination to ensure that they are not smuggling any contraband.”

Natalie protested that this was quite unnecessary in her case, since she was not in fact a criminal, and in any event had already been in the reformatory several months. If she had smuggled anything in (which she most decidedly had not!) she would have had ample time to either hide or consume the evidence by now.

But the Headmaster, a stickler for details, could not be dissuaded. In fact, in his zeal to ensure that the examination was sufficiently thorough, he took it upon himself to stand behind the doctor while the blushing star placed her dainty feet into the widely splayed stirrups.

To ensure that she was fit for rigors of Justice Night, Natalie, still quite nude, was required to endure a lengthy round of jumping jacks, squats, bicycle kicks, and other such exercises. For her urine sample she was required to squat and “make her water” while the Headmaster smiled down at her as if she were a new puppy being paper-trained.

Natalie was also photographed for a series of “posture studies” that showed the naked star front, sides, and back. Humiliating, to be sure, but a vital part of an important scientific study one of the Governors was conducting...

When the exam was over, the Headmaster and the matron accompanied her to the showers, where the Headmaster made sure Natalie scrubbed herself everywhere. Then she was deloused.

The ordeal had been especially grueling since Natalie had known the Headmaster in better days. Because of her interest in corporal punishment she had taken it upon herself to invite him to several of the parties she had thrown at the mansion she had rented in London during one of her location shoots.

On those occasions Natalie had been the belle of the ball, and a most gracious hostess, while the Headmaster played the part of guest thrilled at a touch of Hollywood. He was her social inferior, of course, but more importantly he had seen her at the peak of her powers, which made it infinitely more humiliating for her to have to spread her cheeks and cough at his command.

As she sat in her cell Natalie found herself wondering who else in her social set might be attending Justice Night. Since her incarceration she had been forced to parade the grounds in her humiliating school uniform in front of her teachers, the Board of Governors, and the gruff, lower class workman who tended the gardens and kept the girls in line. It was no small part of her ordeal, for she hated the way they leered at her, and ogled her bare legs, and made her blush like a schoolgirl with their rude comments.

But tonight would be far worse. In a few minutes her knickers would be taken down and her bottom would be birched in front of the Governor’s invited guests.

Natalie’s mind raced as she imagined who from her social circle might attend. A spurned boyfriend? An important Producer? Natalie knew several London actresses who would relish the chance to see her put in her place!

Natalie shuddered at the thought, but knew her horror and shame were entirely irrelevant. She was a delinquent sentenced to a public, bare-bottom birching, and the guest list was not her concern.


Anonymous said...

You are certainly pushing some of my buttons Annon, young women dressed as silly schoolgirls, and public humiliation.
Please don't forget about Miss Wilson..........sorry to be greddy!
Anyway, very good stuff.


Anonymous said...

Another anon from the previous post chiming in to give my thanks! I haven't been able to visit this site for several days, so my apologies for not thanking you for your wonderful posts, especially the reply to my previous inquiry of poor Natalie's self-abuse and unnatural congress with the fellow residents. I've been especially tickled with the latest post describing Natalie's embarrassing internal and rectal contraband inspections.

In the response to my previous post you detailed how the young fillies caught in situations of self-abuse were subject to repeating their sins in front of an assemblage of the governors, followed by enforced oral ministrations and buggering, presumably as methods of curing them of their unnatural obsession with their own bodies rather than those of the opposite sex. I wonder if you might detail the first time Natalie fails a knicker check or is caught with her hands below the sheets during a nighttime inspection and is sentenced to such a meeting of the governors?

Alternately, with Natalie's status as a protected outsider no longer in application, one wonders if she will soon meet a fellow inmate who has eyes of her becoming her "pal"? I wondered also if the reformatory administration selected certain wardens to serve as prefects to help keep watch over the more unruly general mass, and if those prefects would be given a blind eye by the governors to take "pals" of their own, or if they might be fully against giving any inmates even such minimal authority and luxury. Although the policy of "divide and conquer" and using the inmates to help repress the other inmates has a delightfully totalitarian and spirit-crushing aspect to it, in my humble opinion.

Additionally, I will add my voice to that of Mr. Eddie above and wonder if Natalie and Willy might not encounter one another soon?

Anonymous said...

My again - I just realized I forgot to add something to my reply that came to mind when reading your earlier reply. It occurred to me that the application of chilled douches to the intimate anatomy of the inmates found to be practicing onanists might be a suitable humiliating (for the recipient) and arousing (for the applicant) form of punishment to cool off hot areas on lusty "ladies" (and I use that term lightly given the moral decay of those incarcerated in this establishment).

Orage said...

At long last an anonymous has got a name! But another one has popped up. "From the previous post", yes, but still...
For pity's sake, you've got my brain reeling: when starting to read an "anonymous" comment, I never know whether it's the writer speaking or somebody else!
Congratulations for the "puppy being paper trained"! Very graphic!

Anonymous said...

Excellent suggestions, all! Yes, now that her protected status has been removed, Natalie will indeed be punished for her shameful desires. Similarly, Natalie will soon discover to her horror that one of the toughest cons in the institution has indeed selected Natalie to be her “pal!”

You’re quite right; easier to keep the girls in line, when you play them off against one another. Reward the snitches and stoolies, and use the prefects as your secret police. Enforce the hierarchy thru “pals” even as you punish the girls for their unnatural desires. Excellent suggestion; let’s keep the little scrubbers on their toes. Your ideas are incorporated below!

Glad you liked the paper training metaphor, Orage! Thanks, because it's helpful to know when something works.

I hadn’t really considered Miss Wilson to be part of Natalie’s story, as she really has her own unique story. But, because of your comments, she may yet make a cameo.

And now, let me answer some of your queries with another chapter or two!


As the evening progressed, the occupants of Natalie’s cell gradually disappeared in a pattern both depressing and terrifying.

Deathly, sullen silence would be broken by the arrival of Ed & Gary, two of the gruff, thuggish reformatory workman. Ed would read six names and the girls would rise, and go to the front of their cells, and wait with their hands wrapped expectantly around the bars to be released, like puppies waiting to be released from their kennels.

Gary & Ed would lead the six girls upstairs, the outer door would CLANG shut, and the cycle would begin anew.

What unnerved Natalie the most was the way the girls simply disappeared as if they never existed, in a manner that to Natalie seemed to be a metaphor for the reformatory system itself. Natalie, who had no idea what was waiting for her upstairs, became increasingly agitated as she watched her sisters disappear one by one.

At last, Natalie was alone: absolutely, 100%, completely alone. It was a peculiar moment, for Natalie never alone. She showered with dozens of other young women in a huge gang shower; she slept in an enormous dormitory, the toilets had no stall walls. The girls were forever being counted, monitored, or processed thru some procedure. They were never alone.

Natalie briefly considered using her moment of solitude to pleasure herself in an attempt to relieve the tension and anxiety of her restless mind. Natalie masturbated frequently in the dormitory, sometimes 2 or 3 times in a night. In part it was to relieve the boredom, but mostly it was because, despite everything, she still found the reformatory to be horribly, shamefully exciting!

It was true. Despite the long hours spent in class, and doing menial work on the grounds and in the mill, and the humiliating uniforms, and the constant threat of discipline, Natalie found herself in a state of near perpetual arousal. In fact, Natalie had never been hornier in her life!

Natalie had become quite adept at pleasuring herself under the covers in a way that aroused no suspicion. She had to be careful, for the punishments were severe. Girls caught abusing themselves were often made to perform the act in front of their masters or mistresses, before being thrashed for their actions. Frequent nighttime inspections and “knickers checks” are used to catch culprits in the act. A sound practice, for even good girls can have naughty dreams.

Anonymous said...

Natalie had been quite fortunate, for although many of the girls around her had been caught abusing themselves, she had never been subjected to the dreaded nighttime “knickers check” that would have cinched her guilt. What she was unaware of was that Judge Harding was well aware of her nocturnal activities, but had ordered the matrons to leave Natalie untouched, so that he could deal with her moral decay personally on Justice Night.

Now Justice Night had arrived. Natalie, alone in her cell, was free to pleasure herself as she saw fit. Their was a considerable space of time between summons, as the six victims were taken upstairs and thrashed, and Natalie knew she’d have sufficient time to cover any incriminating evidence of her misconduct.

But Natalie simply sat and waited. When she had imagined this moment it had been with a mixture of anxiety, “funhouse fear,” naughty excitement, and shameful arousal. But now that moment was at hand, she felt only terror: relentless, pitiless, cold.

Natalie considered the birch rods she had cut for Justice Night. They were long, thin, and whippy, and after week in the brine they would be murderously supple. The buds and thorns would bite, and cut, and the salt would burn like fire…

Who would administer her whipping? Natalie hoped with all her heart that it would not be Ed or Gary. They were huge, hulking brutes and could break her like a twig. To make matters worse Gary was an imbecile who could barely stammer his name. To be thrashed by a moron like Gary would truly be adding insult to injury!

Natalie had never been thrashed or even spanked; how would she take her strokes? Stoically, she hoped, but she knew better. Would crying help or hurt? Would her “baker’s dozen” be given in groups or all at once? Where would she be taken afterward?

As the questions swirled through her mind, Natalie’s terror grew. When at last Ed and Gary returned and she heard her name called, Natalie once again had a full blown panic attack!

As Gary opened her cell door, Natalie started to babble. “Please, sir, this is all a horrible misunderstanding. I’m not a delinquent, really, I’m not. My name isn’t even Natalie Cox. I’m a big star, and an important person! You have to call my lawyer, or my agent. It’s all a dreadful mistake!”

Gary, imbecilic as ever, turned his head sideways as he looked down at Natalie in a manner that reminded her of a dog flummoxed by a confusing command. Then he smiled…

Natalie gasped as the hulking giant grabbed her by the ear and yanked her out of the cell. As the other girls followed meekly behind, Gary took Natalie by the scruff of her neck and marched her up the stone steps to Judgment Hall.

Orage said...

More similes with the dogs! Very apt and entertaining.
We are reaching now the heart of the matter, I can't wait!

imreadonly2 said...

Ask and you shall recieve, Orage -- a user id & a chapter!

After so many hours in the gloomy dungeon, Natalie closed her eyes tightly shut as she emerged into the bright light of the enormous medieval Mead Hall that was to serve as the theatre for her punishment.

There was a murmur of anticipation as Natalie, squinting and naked save for her tight white underpants and a form fitting half shirt that barely covered her breasts, stumbled down the aisle with Gary’s hand clutching the back of her neck.

Natalie could barely see her audience, but she was nonetheless conscious of their appreciative eyes staring at her protruding nipples and the bulge from her pubic mound clearly visible through her tight reformatory issue underpants.

The stone floor was frigid, and the barefoot girl felt as if she were walking across a slab of ice. Natalie tried to walk on her toes, which gave her a comical gait and caused her bottom and breasts to jiggle provocatively as she half staggered / half skipped down the aisle.

As her eyes adjusted, Natalie managed to pick out a few familiar faces among the countless strangers.

Natalie cringed as she spotted the cold smile of an English producer who had lost a small fortune when Natalie’s big budget fiction crushed his much smaller feature.

Natalie squirmed under the icy stare of an snobby English aristocrat she had repeatedly refused to date.

An older English actress, well known for her stage work in London but better known in America for her appearances in a series of spy films, made eye contact with Natalie. Natalie, astonished to see her, nodded, and the actress in turn gave the barefoot girl a tight and extremely satisfied smile as she awkwardly hopped past. Natalie knew the famous actress had an intense dislike of “Hollywood stars”, whom she considered to be uncouth and untrained. Natalie could tell by her expression that the old biddy was delighted to see Natalie making her London stage debut.

Natalie turned just in time to step up onto the stage and confront her main rival, the ancient whipping horse known as now as #4.

#4 was enormous, with huge wooden legs, thick leather straps, and a black leather seat that seemed to Natalie to be broad as any stallion she could envision. Natalie stared, mouth agape, in awe of its might presence. Even without knowing the details, Natalie could sense the incredible history of this massive antique. Her awe was broken only when Gary released her neck and announced curtly, “Time for your pony ride!”

Natalie turned and watched as Miss Wilson, known to the girls as Willy, dutifully climbed aboard punishment horse #1 and straddled it in the manner proscribed by law. Miss Wilson had, till recently, been a teacher at the school, until a disagreement with the Headmaster transformed her into a lowly student. Deeply humiliated by her uniform and mercilessly tormented by the other girls, “Willy” now faced the indignity of having her bottom caned in front of the faculty and staff members who had once been her peers.

The sight of Willy reminded Natalie that there were others being punished, and she looked to see who was behind her. Natalie was shocked to discover her Prefect Teddy was also on the guest list, the six foot tall girl looking lean and fit in her scanty attire. Natalie knew that Teddy was sweet on her, and wanted to make Natalie her special “pal.” Natalie felt queasy as she noticed Teddy staring at the seat of Natalie’s form fitting briefs.

“Let’s go,” Gary said, punctuating his command with a sharp smack across the seat of Natalie’s tight knickers. Natalie dutifully scrambled onto the horse, straddling the back and grasping it between her thighs as she obediently extended her wrists toward the leather straps.

From the front row Judge Harding watched approvingly as Gary buckled and locked Natalie into her proper place. Gary, though a moron, clearly knew how to her handle her, for Natalie was now posed as Judge Harding always dreamed of seeing her: helpless, with her bottom raised high for discipline!

Anonymous said...

Exciting stuff annon.It's almost getting to book length.

Glad to see Willy has not been forgotten.

Many thanks!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anonymous said...

Maybe an ill wisher could slip a piece of ginger into Willy's rear orifice so she 'misbehaves' during punishment.

Anonymous said...

Judith has spent the summer in school uniform at all times (including the her long sleeved one piece woollen undergarment), being confined to her room when not at work, enduring frequent corner time and experiencing the continuation of thrice weekly corporal punishment where possible, in front of guests. She is now working as a cleaner at the local shopping centre where she works from midday to 8pm six days a week. Her duties require her to clean the toilets and the general concourse areas during shopping hours and then carry out the more thorough nightly cleaning of surfaces. The wearing of her blue nylon tabard has covered something of her uniform but the reality of her new work status has certainly ensured she has remained compliant.
Since the end of September Judith is therefore under fewer restrictions in the hope we are almost at a “end state” for her routine at least during the working week. She now is able to choose her own outfit from the clothing she has made within the acceptable boundaries we have specified – namely below knee length pinafore dress and long sleeve shirt together with a minimum of a knee length cardigan. She may wear socks if she wishes to and additional waistcoats, cardigans or wool jackets from her wardrobe as conditions demand. Sunday is still a day of more severe discipline with a school uniform of our specification at all times including for Church attendance, a minimum of two hours detention and one hour of corner time. Corporal punishment is now only applied if Judith believes she deserves it or we judge that her attitude is less than exemplary. If she believes she should be punished she will receive either 8 stokes of the cane or a severe spanking. If she believes she does not deserve to be beaten but we believe she should then the sanction is appropriately more severe – 12 strokes of the cane and 2 strokes of the tawse to the back and palm of each hand. These punishments will be carried out in front of guests if present.
Judith is required to be home by 8:30 pm every evening and has access to suitable reading materials. Her hair is currently still cropped as part of her previous punishment but she will be allowed to grow this provided she always ensures it is worn in a bun or short ponytail.
Hopefully we will soon be able to reach a state where Judith can behave and contribute under the following boundaries which she has displayed before.
• No trousers, stockings or tights. Only blouses and pinafore dresses - longer than knee length to be worn. School knickers to be worn. Ankle or knee socks may be worn. Always to be worn with a minimum of one cardigan at all times.
• School uniform to continue to be worn on Sunday including school knickers, and either knee socks, shirt, pinafore, tie and cardigan or ankle socks, gingham dress and cardigan
• No jewellry or make-up.
• Hair to be worn in a bun/ponytail at all times and to be worn with my scalp clear back to my hairline.
• No use of tampons. Sanitary pads to be worn when necessary.
• Curfew at 8:30 PM Monday-Saturday, 6:00 PM Sunday
• All housework to be performed by me.
• No alcohol consumption or smoking.
• Limited TV (maximum of 2 hours total per week) and only with approval of content.
• All other spare time to be spent dressmaking and knitting to produce further pinafore dresses, shirts and cardigans and other clothing for her use.
At some point hopefully the need for school uniform will be unnecessary but given the almost two years of discipline required to date we have decided it would be premature to remove this approach now.
Judith’s Aunt

Madmonkey said...

So is this story about Natalie going to be continued in the comments section in a similar manner as to which the story about Judith has been continued?

Kraxpelax said...

The Moon
on a cat


As a native Swede, I am particularly proud of my love poetry suite Sonnets for Katie.

My Poems

My wallpaper art Babes!

Sexuality introduces Death to Being; and indeed Life simultaneously. This is the profound Myth of the Eden. The work of the Serpent. Bringing us out of "blessed" Standstill. So, in contrast to the mindless pietism of vulgar Christianity, my personal "Christo-Satanism" should be given serious thought by the Enlightened Few, the Pneumatics, the 1% Outlaws. The Light Bringer must be rehabilitated, beacause if not, the All of it simply doesn't make sense: true Catholicism is necessarily Meta Catholicism.

My philosophy

My poetry in French:


My poetry in German:

Fremde Gedichte

Casualidad sopla la sangre
de alguno señor desconocido
durante los pocos restantes
momentos del resplandor de faroles

que se vislumbran tras el follaje
flameando de las obsesiónes
igual efimero como gotas
del cinzano de la soledad –

En aquel tiempo me levanta
dentro uno incidente avejentado
que en seguida palidece
al camouflaje de abstraccion;

chica, nadie conoce que tus grisos
ojos significan aún; con todo
el sueño que hube evacuado
tu escudriñas nuevamente.

My Poetry in Spanish

My music blog, with a focus on obscure classical music no one else talks about:


And: reciprocity: for mutual benefit, you will do me a favor promoting your own blog on mine!


- Peter Ingestad, Sweden

Orage said...

And now we've got another anonymous calling herself Judith's aunt suddenly brought to life again after being silent for months.
I never particularly relished her tales but that's just my opinion.
I simply wish Natalie's story would go on without other characters surreptitiously edging their way in.

sixofthebest said...

My Halloween wish, for the "Tale to Come", Sarah Palin being caned on her voluptous bare bottom. Let it be 25 such strokes. Thr swish of this masterful spanking implement as it lands on her unproctected rear end, would be music to my ears.