Hi Tessie,
I'm sorry I wasn't able to get back home for the holidays. Just too much money, you know? I miss the mountains most at this time of year, but at least it's been a white Christmas here. Brad went back home to Birmingham, and Ms. H left town too to spend Christmas with her brother and his family in Chicago. I spent it with a group that were all likewise stuck. We all piled into a few overcrowded cars and drove to Sugar Loaf to forget our sorrows on the slopes. It was awesome, and I met a bunch of new people in the process. Apparently, though, I was not exactly new to many of them. Seems I've gained something of a reputation around campus as Ms. H's 'minion'. One of them referred to me as 'that cute crazy chick that helps keep all the boys in line'. I'm not sure, but I think it was a compliment. I think.
Anyway, we had a big apres-ski party. The guys were wary of me, for the most part, but a few of the other girls cornered me and started pestering me about working in the OCS. I assured them that I was really a nice person, but they weren't being judgmental - I think they were genuinely curious and even a little envious. I got comments like 'you are so freaking lucky' and 'I wish I could spend a couple afternoons a week paddling guys' bare behinds'. I told them that was Ms. H's job, that I just ran the reception and did the filing, but they wouldn't let me alone. One asked if I would give them a peek behind the scenes once we got back to campus. I was reluctant, but one of the girls, Cheryl, is in Delta Kappa Phi, and I could definitely use a friend on the inside there, so I've agreed.
Missing you all,
Lindsay
Hello Lindsay,
We all missed you too over Christmas. Unlike you, we didn't get out on the slopes - you know how crazy they are around the holidays, and you know how Dad hates crowds.
But I'm so glad you were able to use the opportunity to make some new friends, including one in that sorority you are so hot to join. Just be sure your boss lady doesn't find out about your little tour. From what I gather about her, she would not be too impressed.
Love,
Tess
Hi Tess,
Holy crap, but that tour was a wild and woolly night. I met up with Cheryl and three other girls at the Fox and Forest. We were all a little drunk by the time we left, and stumbled across campus to the office, with me still feeling a bit uneasy about the whole thing. I knew Ms. H was out of town until after New Year's, but I still felt like I was betraying her trust somehow. What did these girls expect to see, anyhow?
Of course, I have keys to the office, and we managed to reach it without anyone spotting us. Oddly, they were less nervous - or maybe more drunk - than I was. Once in, I tried to show them what I did there, but they made a beeline for Ms. H's office. That was the storied place they wanted to see for themselves. Before I could stop them, they were pulling Ms. H's canes out of their stand, and fingering the straps and paddles hanging on the wall. It all seemed a little irreverent to me, but I didn't want to look lame by protesting, so I just stood by and watched and smiled while they joked and chuckled about the implements like giddy teenagers. Then Cheryl climbed up and draped herself over the punishment horse, to the unabashed amusement of the others. "Check it out", she said. "I'm a bad little schoolboy! Please punish me, Ms. Hutchins!"
Before I knew it, one of the others, Val, had hopped up and straddled Cheryl's back to hold her down. She protested at first, but they told her she had volunteered by mounting the horse. "Let's let her have a taste of what she asked for!" exclaimed Val. Another, Amy, ran her hand along the array of implements. "What'll it be, then?" Cheryl protested that she'd only been joking, but Amy ignored her. "How about .... this one?" and fetched a strap with a wooden handle off the wall. She held it close to Cheryl so as to give her a good look at it. "I'll bet this has brought a tear or two to a lot of big tough guys, wouldn't you say? Just imagine what it's capable of doing to a petite little thing like you..."
Amy wielded the strap two-handed, a rather half-hearted stroke that elicited a loud OWW! from Cheryl and laughter all around. No one was laughing harder than Cheryl, herself, though.
"How was that?" asked Amy.
"Reminds me of my pledge night," Cheryl responded. "But not as painful."
Amy swatted her again, twice, and harder.
Cheryl yipped and laughed even more, and so the girl on her back slid her slacks down to expose her pantied bottom and the broad pinkish stripes awakened by the strap.
"Hey! What are you doing?" Cheryl objected, but the others were too into this now to stop.
Amy said, "I think you aren't learning your lesson properly, so we need to take this up a notch. Maybe the pro would like to take a crack at it?"
And then she held the strap out to me. I protested that I was no 'pro' and I wasn't sure I wanted to risk alienating Cheryl. But I was not exactly sober, either, and the others were all looking at me expectantly, and I noted that even Cheryl was not exactly struggling to get out from under Val pinning her down, so I took the strap and they all hooted with delight. "You must have watched Ms. Hutchins do this dozens of times, Linds. Do it just like she would."
My head was spinning with alcohol, but I stepped around the horse and leaned down close to Cheryl. "You okay with this?" I asked.
"What are you asking her for?"
"Yeah, your boss doesn't ask permission, does she?"
But I waited for Cheryl to decide. To my surprise, she nodded. "What the hell. I'll not ruin the party. And I won't hold it against you. Promise."
So I went back around behind her, gently laid the strap across her ass to get my swinging distance right, feet apart to secure my balance, and drew the strap back, swiveling at the hip, and then swung. The thunderclap and shriek from Cheryl made everyone jump, including me! My breath caught, and a chorus of goosebumps flushed over my thighs and shoulders. They all stared in fascination as a much redder patch arose across Cheryl's behind. I did too - though I'd seem much worse witnessing for Ms. H, this time it felt different, more personal. That redness was MY doing. Cheryl's buttocks were mine, and I was marking my territory.
"Holy shit, Lindsay!" Val breathed. "You do know how to use that thing, don't you?"
"Well, I've only watched Ms. H use it, but...." I was a little awestruck myself. The alcohol was making me bolder than normal, and the rush of power that came over me was no less intoxicating. I knew it was terribly cruel to do so, but a part of me wanted desperately to give Cheryl a second blow. They all encouraged me, chanting 'Again! Again!"
So I wound up and let Cheryl have it. She yelled and kicked with the pain and the goosebumps ran over me like a lover's caress, enveloping me in a bath of delicious warmth and power, yet fringed with a little fear and no small realization of guilt. I shouldn't be enjoying this. I'd felt these same goosebumps watching Ms. H thrash her charges, but nothing so visceral as now. It must have been the alcohol, disarming my better judgment. And yet my arm drew back and I struck once more, quivering almost as much as Cheryl with the intensity of it all. My legs were trembling suddenly and I shakily tossed the strap aside, a little horrified at myself, and at the urge to continue. Both Cheryl and I had tears in our eyes. Nobody was laughing or chanting now. They helped Cheryl to her feet and she looked at me ruefully, sniffling back a tear. I was both mortified at what I'd done, and at myself because I couldn't deny that a part of me was feeling downright proud at the sight of those red-rimmed eyes. She carefully pulled her pants back up, wincing, and stepped uncertainly toward me. I thought she might hit me in the face, but instead she smiled a little, and assured me that it was all okay. Then we hugged, two people who had only met a few days before, but seemed to have broken down the usual barriers and found a bond. Odd as it seems, I think I made a new friend.
Love and Happy New Year,
Lindsay
Friday, 28 December 2012
Saturday, 22 December 2012
Merry Christmas to All and to All a Good Spanking
Is that Santa grabbing a little upskirt action? Dirty old elf! Deserves a good spanking, if you ask me-
Yeah, that's better - wait, he seems to be enjoying it.........oh, well, I guess he deserves a present too.
Merry Christmas
Sunday, 16 December 2012
RetroFix - Her Royal Majesty Marilyn
What kind of a regular feature would RetroFix be without a tribute to the queen of 20th century feminine icons? With the possible exception of Queen Elizabeth II and maybe Princess Diana, she was probably the most photographed woman in history, and a sort of royalty in her own right.
And what is there to say about her that has not been said a thousand times over? What could I write that could adequately accompany her image, other than that I've tried to hunt down shots that are suggestive to a spanko imagination, and outfits that seemed tailor-made for delivering a sound spanking.
So, let Her Majesty speak for herself...
Saturday, 15 December 2012
Stepping Outside the Box For a Moment...
I don`t normally step away from the subject of this blog, but this tragedy in Newtown, Connecticut more than warrants it. As President Obama mentioned, this has happened too many times in America. Something is seriously wrong with a society that suffers terrible incidents like this, and yet refuses to take any concrete action to deal with it.
Obviously, there are many factors involved in the creation of a homicidal psychopath, and it is impossible to avoid individuals like this sicko entirely, but as much as NRA enthusiasts decry that it is people who kill people, not guns, the simple fact remains that if this homicidal maniac had not been able to get his hands on the firearms he had, he would not have been able to carry out the wanton murder of 26 people - not to mention the mutilation of all the lives of their families and friends.
It`s time for Americans to assess whether his right to bear arms outweighs the rights of all those children to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness - rights they were denied.
I expect I may receive some angry reactions to a post like this, and that`s ok - that`s what free speech is all about - but I don`t want to to turn what is supposed to be a fun, kinky corner of the web into a socio-political forum.
I`ve done my soapboxing, and we will resume our regular programming presently.
Obviously, there are many factors involved in the creation of a homicidal psychopath, and it is impossible to avoid individuals like this sicko entirely, but as much as NRA enthusiasts decry that it is people who kill people, not guns, the simple fact remains that if this homicidal maniac had not been able to get his hands on the firearms he had, he would not have been able to carry out the wanton murder of 26 people - not to mention the mutilation of all the lives of their families and friends.
It`s time for Americans to assess whether his right to bear arms outweighs the rights of all those children to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness - rights they were denied.
I expect I may receive some angry reactions to a post like this, and that`s ok - that`s what free speech is all about - but I don`t want to to turn what is supposed to be a fun, kinky corner of the web into a socio-political forum.
I`ve done my soapboxing, and we will resume our regular programming presently.
Sunday, 9 December 2012
Tush Spanking Art - Tumblng Down the Rabbit Hole...
... into Wonderland.
Tumblr is awesome. Especially if you're a Spanko. Not to mention addictive. And solely responsible if someday I end up a flabby old man with atrophied legs and dying of complications from a Vitamin D deficiency.
I have often failed to give sufficient source credit to these blogs, and I do apologize for my lack of internet etiquette. But I hope to make amends by posting a few targeted plugs. So...
This is one of the best of such sites:
Tush Spanking Art ...and the Giblets
A few samples:
Tumblr is awesome. Especially if you're a Spanko. Not to mention addictive. And solely responsible if someday I end up a flabby old man with atrophied legs and dying of complications from a Vitamin D deficiency.
I have often failed to give sufficient source credit to these blogs, and I do apologize for my lack of internet etiquette. But I hope to make amends by posting a few targeted plugs. So...
This is one of the best of such sites:
Tush Spanking Art ...and the Giblets
A few samples:
Saturday, 1 December 2012
The Accolades Just Keep Coming....
Ok, I'd never heard of this Liebster thing until my good friend Penelope over at Naughty Little Writer had been nominated for it (yay, Penelope!) and then had the generosity of spirit (she is very generous, especially with her paddle) to nominate moi, in turn.
The idea is that you are supposed to volunteer 11 (why 11??) quick little facts about yourself, and then answer questions submitted by the nominator. Now, I confess I was a little reticent at first - after all, who cares what color underwear I might wear, or if I refuse to touch door handles in public washrooms? (which is just good common sense, BTW) However, Penny instructed me to bend over and cough up, and I have discovered it is best not to disobey her when she is in that frame of mind (and I am in that position).
So, I am going to hide behind the excuse of only being properly obedient while actually engaging in a shameless bout of self-indulgence:
When I ask my cat if I've ever told her how cute she is, I wait for a response. Someday, she might just surprise me.
I once tied the world record for snatching pennies off my own forearm. 43 at once. It took 14 attempts. I was trying for 44 coins, but dropped one. I think the record has been surpassed long since.
Ironically, I hate seeing coins on the floor - almost as much as I HATE those little plastic I-ties they put in every item of clothing you buy.
Just for fun, I once visited a psychic. He told me he foresaw a catastrophe ahead for me. That was seven years ago. Despite his warning, I have not spontaneously combusted. Yet.
I have melissophobia - no, that is not fear of girls named Melissa (though that is pretty scary, too). It is the fear of bees, wasps, etc. Once, in London, I saw an ORANGE bumblebee. (Shudder) I now think of that city as the dominion of mutant freak bees, and have not been back since.
My favorite female name is Sarah. Every Sarah I've ever met has been an absolute sweetheart.
Speaking of names, I once had a pet bat named Oliver.
Nothing in this world makes me angrier than cruelty to animals...... unless they are wasps or freakishly tinted bumblebees.
I have never read a book by Dostoyevsky. This has not been easy to do. Nor have I read a book by Ayn Rand. That was easy.
I've long suspected that dogs can read my mind.
UPDATE: This morning (this is absolutely true), when I said 'good morning' to the cat, she looked up at me and uttered a brief little squawk eerily similar to 'hi'.
Patience pays off.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
OK. So if you've managed to stick with this so far, you might as well go the distance. Here are Penny's questions for me to answer:
What is your most relaxing place?
I'd have to say a private little spot underneath a very droopy willow tree along the shoreline where I go to read on Sunday summer afternoons. I could be more specific, but, as I say, it's MY spot.
At what age did you give or get your first spanking?
The earliest spanking that I remember was in grade 3, so I was 7 or 8. Miss Redden (no one will likely believe me, but I swear to God that was really her name) hauled me out of my desk and spanked me in front of the whole class.
Is there a piece of music or scene in a film guaranteed to make you cry?
I wanted to cry watching Robert de Niro in 'Awakenings'. Brutal. But I want to happy-cry at the point in Alistair Sims' 'Scrooge' when he says 'Can you forgive a pig-headed old fool for having no eyes to see with, nor ears to hear with all these years?' to the background tune of 'Barbara Allen'.
What was the last thing you went to a fancy dress party as?
You mean a costume party? I made a weird alien head with ski goggle lenses for eyes. I didn't get laid that night. No one even talked to me.
Do you ever look at complete strangers and imagine them in a kinky situation?
Are you kidding? I can hardly look at a seated, attractive woman anywhere without picturing myself over her knee.
What one foodstuff tree would you want to find on a desert island?
A chocolate-covered espresso bean tree.
If you could go back in time to your schooldays, but have them in the sort of harsh school common in kinky fiction, and with your adult mind, would you?
You're kidding me again, right? Um - sorry, don't mean to sound cheeky. I mean - yes, indeed, Ma'am!
Ever locked yourself out and broken into your own house?
I have! When I was about 14 or so. I had to pry open a dining room window to crawl back in.
Which would you rather win: a trip into space or a spanking machine?
Sad for a spanko to admit it, but I would take the space trip.............unless the spanking machine was an android replica of Laura Petrie. Then I'd program it to take me to the moon.
What was the worst job you ever had?
I spent a summer planting trees on reclaimed land. Doesn't sound so bad, until you add in the blackflies, horseflies, mosquitoes, and bees.
How would you describe yourself in one word?
Bipedal. Or Non-combustible (hopefully)
Well, you made it to the end, and now know everything about me not really worth knowing. But I would be ingracious if I did not thank Penny for her nomination.
THANK YOU!
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