The Girl Loves Stripes

Been whittling away at this for awhile, and finally found an evening to blitz through to the finish line

Update

Hi All

First - I want to thank those of you who, despite my 'absence' of late, have faithfully been checking in and still leaving comments (though I have been slow to publish them - sorry.)

Second - My apologies for the lack of posts lately. Work has gotten very intense of late, and I've little time available for art or blogging. I am, however, picking away at some new ideas, and was recently asked to write an article on my art for an online magazine about human sexuality. I was quite touched by this request, so it will be taking up what time I have for the next little while.

In the meantime, just to show that I have not dropped off the face of the planet, here is a quickie from my sketchbook -

Oh, and Happy New Year.

Bullseye!

Hello. Remember me? Name's Red Rump - though I have been so busy lately, I'm afraid I am not living up to my name very well. I could use a good rump reddening, but I guess I'll just have to settle for dreaming of trading places with this poor sot...

Saturday Smackdown

Practising Her Profession

Just knowing there are actually women out there who make a living - or at least a good portion of one - thrashing, strapping, and paddling deserving and needy backsides re-kindles my childhood sense of wonder about the world.

 Bless you all, dear ladies - and thank you for teaching us those lessons best learned the hard way.

Saturday Smackdown

Yup, still here. Occasionally.  Felt like it was time for a proper smackdown. I know I could use one.

The Office of Correctional Services Pt. 7

Tessie,

This past week has been just godawful. The OCS got a notice delivered from the Dean's office that a few of the football players were involved in a brawl at The Fox and Forest pub last weekend. That requires our office to take action. Tess, Brad is one of them. He's got a swollen lip and a bruised jaw, but that didn't prevent his name being submitted to our office, along with a couple of his buddies. When the Dean's office contacts us, we have to serve notice to the student, so I email them an instruction to report to the office so I can make a proper appointment and hand them the guidelines they have to memorize in preparation for their correction.  I wasn't certain Brad would even show up for that, knowing how self-important he is sometimes. But he did. It was so weird, Tess. Ms. H was occupied in her office with another student at the time. I could see Brad's startled glances toward the closed door as Ms H's paddle impacted on bare flesh and the inevitable howls that followed. After several months, I was numb to it, but now it made me suddenly very self-conscious. Brad had his stiff macho face on, but he still told me he wanted me to do what I could to get him out of this somehow.   I replied I had no authority to anything about it, at all. I felt terrible,  but what can I do? Even if I could, should I? I mean, that would be an obvious case of favoritism, wouldn't it?

 I wrestled with this dilemma the rest of that day. Then I had dinner with him later, and told him I couldn't help, and he got really mad. He was going to just say screw it and let the school expel him, but he needs his athletic scholarship and accepting disciplinary action is the only way to keep it from defaulting. It took me a long time to convince him of that. But he was still pissed at me for not even trying to help him. I offered to help him memorize the appointment rules, warning him how Ms H increased punishments for failure to have done so. "F---  that!" he exclaimed. "I'll take what I have to so I can keep my scholarship, but I'll be damned if I let that crazy bitch beat me just because her nose is out of joint over some f---ed up rule she made up!"
I was appalled. I told him he couldn't take that attitude. "Ms Hutchins takes all this very seriously, and you had better do the same. If you give her any trouble - especially refusing to comply with her treatment - she can and will report that back to the Dean`s Office and they can nullify whatever correction you`d already received and start the whole process over again. They might even decide to overturn correction altogether and expel you."
He gave me the dirtiest look (like it was all MY fault!) and went silent. Looking back, I probably should have just let him sulk, but I didn't want him to be mad at me, so I slept with him that night. Without getting into all the details, I put some 'effort' into it too, specifically to show him I was really on his side. Well, he took it all and was pretty rough with me in return - much rougher than he knows he should have been. I think he was punishing me for not helping him the way he expected me to. He didn't hurt me, exactly, but it was not what you would call lovemaking.
I could really use some big sisterly advice right about now. Brad really can be a grade A jackass when he wants to be.


Lindsay,

I`m glad you said it and not me. I wouldn't stay with a guy like that. I guess you have to ask yourself if he is ultimately worth the trouble, and no one but you can tell you that. All I can say is you should do what`s right for Lindsay Ashcroft, and not her jackass boyfriend. As for what to do about his impending appointment, I am WAY out of my league on that one.  Sorry.

Love, Tess

Tess,

You're right. My call. If I try to run interference for him, Ms H will be seriously disappointed in me. If I don't, Brad will be seriously angry. Why is this suddenly on my shoulders, anyway? He got himself into this. Why should it be my responsibility to get him out? Would Ms H even  listen to my appeal? Heck, I'm not sure intervention is really the best course, anyway. He did do what he did, and if he thinks he can get away with it, is it really doing him any good? Whether Brad is worth the trouble, I don`t know. I don`t know how much depth of character he really has. I suppose I`ll find out tomorrow when he comes in for his appointment. Ms H does have a way of putting character to the test and getting to the truth.

wish me luck, sis
Lindsay
.

Hi Tess

Well, it's done. When Brad arrived, I put him through the same paces as anyone else. He was clearly not impressed. I pleaded with him to just suck it up and do whatever he was told. When that just earned me another dirty glare, I had to threaten to note his refusal to be quiet when he tried to protest my attitude toward him. Do you know how awkward that was?? No, I guess you don't. Anyway,  he got belligerent again. The dumbass! One of his football buddies was there for his appointment right after him, and I think Brad`s attitude was enhanced by his presence. His voice got louder, and Ms. H had to come out herself to shut him up, and that's always a BAD sign.
The sight of her standing there, cane in hand, and casting the most withering stare, was at least sufficient to give him pause, and she gave me a warning glance to keep things under control before returning to her office.
When Brad was called in, I quietly asked Ms. H if I could be present. "Are you sure you want to be, dear? This might get very unpleasant for you, almost as much as for him."  Well, I wanted to see whether Brad had the stuff to put aside his ego and the maturity to accept his due. I assured her I wanted to be. She gave me a searching look, but nodded her approval.
First, she let him have a royal tongue-lashing for his behavior, both at the pub, and for his outburst in her reception. She demanded an apology, first to her and then to me. Brad complied, but his tone was nothing short of resentful, a fact that did not go unnoticed by Ms H: "That was lamentably insincere, Bradley. We will try it again after your treatment. Perhaps you`ll feel a little more repentant then. Now be so good as to lower your trousers and prostrate yourself over the bench."

Brad obeyed, and without protest. It always amazes me how Ms Hutchins can make even an adult,  220 pound sack of testosterone like Brad submit to a thrashing like an errant ten year old. I`d like to think he complied so easily because he knew it was inevitable, and now at least he could get it over with. If he could have known what he was really in for, he might have chosen expulsion.
While Ms H selected a razor strop from her implement rack, I secured Brad`s ankles in the restraints and then place his hands on the bar bolted to the base of the horse. "Whatever you do, " I whispered in his ear, "don`t let go of the bar."
"I swear, Linds, when this is over-"
"Ssssh! No talking!"
"Stand away, Lindsay," Ms H said, approaching. I took my proper place well out of Ms Hutchins` swinging arc, and couldn`t stop myself from a indulging a moment of admiration for Brad`s muscular exposed butt. It was the last time I would see it so virgin white for awhile. 
"Now then, Mr. Denning - why are you here today?"
"For fighting in the pub."

THWAPP!!

Brad`s whole body shuddered, but he kept his tongue.
"Is that a proper answer?"
"Yes - uh, no - what do yo want me to say?"

THWAP!!

"I EXPECT you to address me properly!" Ms H snapped.
"OWW! Alright, yes, ma'am!"
"That`s a bit more like it. Now, let`s begin again. Why are you being punished today?"
"For fighting in the pub, ma'am."

THWAPP!

"Correct. Do you think you deserve to be punished?"
"Yes, ma'am!"

THWACK!!

"I don`t believe you."

WAP! WHAPP!!

"I expect total honesty from my students, Mr. Denning. You don`t think you deserve to be here, do you?"
"No, ma'am..."
"Better. Now let`s get down to why you deserve exactly what you`re getting...."

THWACKK!!!

And on it went. Ms H grilled him right an proper, both audibly and physically. I watched in mute awe as Ms H reduced my big tough boyfriend to a whimpering child, and have to confess that his butt never looked so good as she painted it with broad reds and purples. I suppose I should have felt sorry for him, but the truth is, every time he yelped I reminded myself of how badly he`d treated me the last few days and that made me realize that this is truly just what Brad needed. It was really doing him some good, and the worse Ms H walloped him, the better off he`d be for it. When Ms H finally decided she had gotten her message across, she motioned for me to undo his ankle restraints and help him up.  As I did, she reminded Brad that there was still the little matter of an apology he owed the both of us.
I was astounded to see real tears in his eyes, and was genuinely moved as he blubbered out how sorry he was for his behavior. I don`t think Ms H was convinced, but she nodded and let him go with a frightful warning that if she ever saw his face in her office again, she would take a cane to him and assured him it would be a much more painful experience than this had been.
I helped him out and hugged him in the outer office. There was another appointment there waiting his turn, but I didn't care. Brad was red-faced with shame and in too much pain to respond, so I let him be. Watching him waddle away down the hall, I was awash in my own sea of conflicting emotions that I can`t even put a label too.
Life here is getting complicated, sis.

love always,
Lindsay

The Office of Correctional Services, Pt. 5

Hi Tess

It's beautiful around here in the autumn. The campus grounds look like a Jackson Pollock painting, just a cacophony of colors, and the cool crisp air means I get to dig out all my favorite big turtlenecks and scarves. I love this time of year.(Sorry - I know you get sick of hearing me say that every year, but it just wouldn't be fall if I didn't, right?)
My courses are going well, and I even found time last weekend to get outside and do some painting. I couldn't resist the riotous oranges and flaming reds of the hills north of town. Brad went with me, but I'm sure he found it boring. He just did his work while I revelled in all the beauty.  To his credit, though, he didn't complain, and I  made sure to 'alleviate' his boredom when we came back.

Speaking of flaming reds, I have to tell you about what's been going on at work. There's this one guy, a Journalism major named Royce, who came in for an appointment.
Well, he didn't just come in for a scheduled appointment - first he called in to make an appointment for himself! I thought it was a joke when I first took the call. But when I called up his file, he was legit. He'd been in three times before. Nobody comes in more than twice - at least not to my knowledge. The first two were for relatively minor infractions, but the third had been a voluntary request. I asked him why on earth he would be making appointments for himself, and he only sighed and suggested I ask Ms. Hutchins. I did, and she was none too pleased to hear he'd called. She rolled her eyes and shook her head.  "I thought I'd done for him," she said, and told me to take the appointment.

He showed up two days later and I watched him as he waited to be called in. I'm pretty used to seeing how nervous and uncomfortable people are in my waiting room, but this Royce guy didn't exhibit any of that. He listened to the stiletto clapping of the paddle from inside Ms. Hutchins' office with his eyes closed and his head cocked like he were listening to a symphony. He watched his preceding appointment waddle out of the office with a knowing smile. Ms. Hutchins buzzed and called me in. "I need you to attend. This isn't going to be a typical punishment, and we are treading on very dangerous ground here. I want you to keep track of the proceedings - noting the stroke count and implements used, and his words. There needs to be a witness."
So I escorted Royce in. Ms. Hutchins gave him only a brief lecture about not expecting him back and how disappointed she was, and promised that this would be his last appointment. Then she had him over the bench horse, and I buckled him in while she selected a razor strop from her wall rack. Now, I've witnessed a few punishments so far, but nothing like the walloping Ms. Hutchins gave to Royce. Twenty with the razor strop, two dozen with the cane, and then she followed up with a final dozen from her lexan paddle. 

He was in tears halfway through, but that only seemed to make Ms. Hutchins more determined. I kept telling myself that he asked for this, that he didn't have to be here - he'd committed no violation of college rules. He wanted Ms. Hutchins to thrash the daylights out of him. Why? At first, I figured he was a masochist, but he sure didn't seem to be enjoying it toward the end. When Ms. Hutchins finally put aside the paddle, she asked him if he were coming back. He whimpered a very sincere 'no, ma'am'.

After he'd gone, she was not herself. She seemed very distraught, and no less distressed than Royce had been. "I realised on his second visit that he was one of those deviant types who gets a thrill out of being punished," she explained. "It's inevitable that you run into them in this profession every now and then. Most of the time, I can cure them of their fetish by a single severe dose of what they crave, but it's not been easy with Royce. I thought I had gotten through to him the last time, but.... I don't normally like to take it as far as I did today, Lindsay. What I did here was a violation of ethics - I'm a disciplinarian, not a dominatrix. I'm here to help get wayward students back on track, not cater to fetishists. I wanted to help Royce  because he's a thoughtful, studious young man with real potential. But I fear I may have to admit failure."
I don't know if she failed or not. I guess only time will tell. If he calls again, then I suppose she really might have met her match.

Anyway,  I really have to say goodnight. It's almost 1 am, and I have a report due tomorrow that I'm only half done. I need to be working, not ruminating on some stranger's sexual idiosyncracies. Maybe I need a small dose of Ms. Hutchins' paddle myself - lol.

Love,

Lindsay

Back to School

 
Prim teachers in pencil skirts tapping on blackboards with yardsticks, throwing stern, reproving glances over their glasses, and handing out detentions for misbehavior..... long trips down the echoing halls to the headmistress's office, trembling at the impending prospect of  her tawse and cane.... bouncy cheerleaders sashaying (?) through the corridors in short flouncy skirts....

Well, not exactly the high school I went to, but it ought to have been...

With schools once again opening their doors, I thought this would be an appropriate opportunity to promote one of the best tumblr blogs out there, devoted to schoolmistresses:

Strict Schoolmistresses, Prefects, and Babysitters

As if the title weren't enough to encourage you to visit, here's a gallery of samples:

I don't know who the sitemaster is, but I applaud his efforts, and let's hope he keeps it going.

Saturday Smackdown

Lovely ladies working hard to make the world a better place.... bless their hearts.