Over The Desk Spanking Stories

A quiet girl faces an awful dilemma.

By Kenny Walters

A cautious glance round the corner confirmed Mrs Wilson was alone. She seemed quite busy, going by the quick tapping beat played out on her sturdy old typewriter. Angela was never sure about Mrs Wilson. Actually, Angela had hardly ever spoken to the lady. It was just her manner; always clothed in a tweed suit, her grey hair always kept short and permed, well-spoken but always economical in words, unsmiling.

“Um,” Angela advanced further round the corner so she could see the wooden counter behind which Mrs Wilson sat, and the school secretary could see her.
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A lack of respect for their headmaster leads the girls into deeper trouble. previously published on the old website.

by Kenny Walters

Sara Hailsham glanced all around the neat and tidy sitting room, taking considerable pride in the spotless appearance of her home, a large five bedroom house on the outskirts of town. The clock ticking gently on the mantlepiece told her that Emma should have been home from sixth form college at least half an hour ago.

‘Talking to her friends, no doubt.’ She said to herself. ‘I’ll put the kettle on. She can’t be much longer.’

Even before Sara had turned towards the kitchen, the telephone rang.
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A little cheating leads two girls into far greater trouble. A really old story that appeared on the old website, and even the website before that!

by Kenny Walters

Angelina Davenport unlocked the boot of her car before dropping her two heavy bags onto the carpeted interior. She opened one of the bags and searched through the mass of exercise books it contained.

“Damn!” Slamming the boot lid shut and re-locking it, the attractive honey blonde, late twenties, History teacher turned and headed back towards the college building. She checked her watch. It was eighteen minutes past four; no wonder the sixth form college was deserted as she headed along the corridor.
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A Head Girl exceeds her authority and has to pay the price. A story from the old site.

by Kenny Walters

“I think he should have caned you.” The tall, leggy, blonde girl leaned against the door, her casual attire of faded blue jeans and darker blue blouse doing nothing to remove her natural air of authority.

“Oh, thanks a bunch Veronica!” The shorter dark haired girl retorted, uncertain whether her friend had made the remark in jest.

“It would have set a better example for the school, Sara.”

“Sod the school, Veronica! Think what it would have done to my bottom! Coffee?”

“Please.” Veronica Appleby watched as her friend poured water and coffee into the filter machine. “So, what was it you got?”
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A US school paddling told from several perspectives

By Kenny Walters

Amy Marshall, 6.50 am

As I leave the house clutching my school books the slight breeze is already very warm. I guessed it would be. That’s why I wore a thin cotton dress, white with a red floral pattern, because this is supposed to be the hottest day of the year so far. The dress reaches to within four inches of my knees which means it should comply with the dress code at Ryetimber High. I’ve got straight A grades and getting an in-school detention, which would mean losing marks as well as serving the Saturday detention in my own time, just isn’t on my agenda.
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A Head girl is assigned to deal with an inquisitive newspaper reporter, then finds herself in trouble.

By Kenny Walters

“You wanted to see me, headmaster?”

“Yes, Veronica.” Mr Davies waved the tall dark haired girl to a comfortable chair in front of his desk. “We’ve got some damn woman from the local newspaper coming to the school tomorrow. She wants to spend the day here, have a look around, chat to a few people, that sort of thing.”

“Oh, that should be interesting, headmaster.”

“I’m glad you think so.” The headmaster, a grey haired man in his early sixties, reached behind and took a tobacco jar from a low cabinet, then began filling his pipe. “I’ve managed to occupy most of her day here, but there’s an hour after three o’clock when I’ve got nobody free. I was wondering whether you, being our Head Girl, wouldn’t mind helping out.”
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Another story from the old site. It brought mixed responses when first published, but also has its origins in a true story.

By Kenny Walters

“Everything okay is it, Mrs Cuthbert?” Charles Oakes pulled his black gown around him as though protecting himself from the answer.

“Of course, headmaster.” The secretary appeared puzzled by the incursion. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Oh, just checking there have been no other little problems I might have to deal with.”

“No other problems, headmaster.” Mrs Cuthbert replied calmly.

While the middle-aged secretary returned to typing away at her keyboard, the rather dapper silver-haired headmaster withdrew into his office and closed the door firmly behind him.
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A rather short story from the old website which is very close to a real-life story once told to me.

By Kenny Walters

“Melanie Howard?”

‘Good Grief,’ thought Melanie. ‘If she doesn’t know who I am after seven years at this school, she never will.’

“Melanie?” Mrs Porter, the rather rotund deputy headmistress searched amongst the seven or eight sixth form girls occupying the large room allocated to the upper sixth as their common room.

“Miss!” Melanie called, nudging Sarah Hobson in the ribs as she started to snigger.

“Ah, Melanie. I’ve been thinking about that little spot of bother you got yourself into. You know, coming back ten minutes late from lunch.”
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