How long in my life have I spent dreaming about spanking?

It’s a shame someone didn’t put me on an hourly rate years ago, as I might now be a wealthy man.

Incredibly I am, despite being middle-aged and happily married daydreaming still.

It must have been in my formative years when I first consciously became aware of these dreams.

The rain was falling on the roof and I was lying with the lights switched off on my bed one evening and I thought of the lovely Miss Wiseman.

Her perfumed presence had been driving me wild all year.

I wasn’t the only one either as she made a nice change from the hairy-faced harridans and child-hating curmudgeons that had overshadowed my early schooling.

The entire class loved this warm-hearted woman, who made going to school joy and learning fun.

Part of her charm was her attitude to discipline.

On the surface she was very strict, indeed I have in another posting described what she would do to small boys if she caught them out of their places.

We were taught away from the main buildings of the school in a freezing little wooden hut.

If any pupil complained they were cold she would fix them with her sternest gaze and say”

If your cold the best way to warm up is with a well-smacked bottom”.

It was one of her little jokes and I would often feign coldness just to hear her say that.

If any pupil, although it was always a boy, as all the girls in our class were absolute paragons of virtue, did step over the bounds he would be promised a warm bottom if he did it again.

At the end of each term, she gave every one of us a small present but she promised a special end-of-term present for the naughtiest boy in the class,

“A box of assorted whacks”.

Sometimes impromptu discussions would break out on who was the likely candidate.