Over The Desk Spanking Stories

Good intentions go astray, with an unusual twist at the end

By Wendy A

When I was at boarding school in the 1960s we had a Housemistress, Miss Sophie Hill, who had a reputation for realism. She taught chemistry and her experiments were always on an industrial scale; if there is going to be an explosion then it had to be a big bang. Often her experiments had to be moved outside to avoid damage to the chemistry labs or a conflagration. There were often complaints from her fellow teachers who were not amused by the regular disruptions to their lectures when there was a loud explosion. She was much loved by her pupils who seemed to learn and remember chemical formulas by the spectacular reactions that could be produced.
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 An 18th birthday gift is well received, but then things go horribly wrong.

By Wendy A

I will never forget Christmas 1965. I was in my last year at St Mary’s, a prefect and in the first team for hockey. Rather than flying out to spend Christmas with my parents in India, the whole extended family was gathered at home in Oxfordshire. We had gathered to celebrate my Great Grandmother’s 100th birthday and for me, more importantly, my 18th birthday.

Our house was large by modern standards and could accommodate most of the close family; a few more distant relatives and friends had been placed at the local pub and a rather elegant hotel nearby.
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A Trip to the Sea has consequences

By Wendy A

Let me start with an introduction. I was born in the 1950s, the youngest of three children. My brother Peter was several years older than me and David was just one year older. We lived in a large house in the country about 1 hour by train from London. Our Father was a partner in a firm of accountants in the City and spent quite a lot of time travelling to conferences and visiting foreign clients. Our Mother was involved in many charitable works and also spent part of her time in London for meetings and even the odd conference abroad.
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A hockey victory celebration goes too far.

By Wendy A

I was recently persuaded to attend an old school reunion by one of my former fellow pupils, Susan. It was some 20 years since I had left Fordham School. I had some fond and not so fond memories of my time there which lasted 2 years as a 6th form A level student. The School was essentially a boys boarding school but had opened up the 6th form to girls a couple of years before I took up residence.

The girls were housed separately from the boys and we kept much to ourselves initially. Most of that years’ intake had previously been at all girls’ schools and it took us a while to adjust. Our fellow male 6th formers had become used to the presence of girls and we were made to feel welcome even if we were the subject of whispers amongst the boys who we soon realised enjoyed visually undressing us.
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The series continues

By Wendy A

There were only about 3 weeks to go before the end of term and the highlight for me would be the mixed hockey match against Thornbury, St Joseph’s and Hillsdown. We had drawn against Thornbury the previous term and I was determined that we would win the next match.

One morning both Hugh and I had a free period and decided to meet in his study for coffee. “How are things going in Devon House?” He enquired.

“Nothing much other than three stripey bottoms on view in the showers.”

“I know what you mean,” he replied. “We have a few of those in School House. I was wondering whether you had anything planned for the Easter holidays? I was thinking of going to the cottage with some friends and would love you to be there. My parents will be away in the South of France for part of the holidays.”
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