CAUGHT AND SPANKED

Over the knee spankings (OTK) and corporal punishment are required by strong dominant women. Naughty boys and girls are always forced to submit. A strict headmistress, forceful teachers, mean erotic aunts and other hot, sexy women are always ready and vigilant in their role to correct and train those who dare to disobey.

A crudely carved peep-hole had been discovered in the wall connecting the girl’s dressing room to a small janitor’s closet. In that closet with the cleaning supplies, a conveniently placed chair had been found, eye-level with aforementioned peep-hole. Cigarette butts, candy wrappers and the smell of marijuana were all that remained. It was enough, however, to know that the only boy student, Johnnie, who had a long history of spying on naked girls and grown women and was a notorious masturbator, was considered the sole culprit …..
The trap set would be simple and efficient. Johnnie had no idea he that had been discovered. All that would be required would be a posted notice specifying that all female students report for a special ballet class. They should report between 6:00 pm – 6:30 pm to the girl’s dressing room in order to be on time for their stage assignment. Tardiness would not be tolerated.

With that simple notice, the strike bar on the trap was set.
As expected, he had arrived a good hour early. The hidden camera in the closet had its own timer, which corresponded to the clock on my office desk. I watched every move he made with wry amusement.
The girls started to enter the dressing room. They were chatting and had not begun to change into their outfits yet, but Johnnie, whose pants were down around his ankles was sealed with his eye against the peep-hole, in full anticipation,  fully aroused and stroking himself slowly. Suddenly a loud whistle blew, the girls gathered their things and quickly filed out. When the last girl had left, the lights went out in the dressing room and in the utility closet.
As quickly as everything had gone dark, a spotlight beamed onto the outside wall of the utility closet. The blinding white light was turned on and a wide panel that separated Johnnie from the dressing room was suddenly lifted, as you would lift an overhead garage door. Instantly, Johnnie was exposed, his disgusting behavior on view for all to see. He raised his arm to block the blinding light from his eyes. Then he tried to run away after his initial shock, but tripped over his pants that now entangled his ankles.
Catastrophe! He realized that the women who were simultaneously laughing at him and chastising him were the strictest and meanest teachers in the entire school. They pulled him to his feet, still exposed, then they hauled him through the corridors to my office. His punishment was about to begin.
The dreaded hairbrush, leather school strap and thin wispy cane lay in a neat line on my otherwise clear desk. The look of absolute shock and fear on Johnnie’s face when his eye and brain connected with what he instantly saw upon his entrance into the room was stunning to see.
I stared at him coldly, and he started to dissolve. “Do you know what is going to happen to you now?” “No, Ma’am.” With that statement not quite out of his mouth, I grabbed him by the ear and pulled him toward the straight backed wooden chair in the middle of the room. I quickly pulled him over my knee. His spanking was about to begin. His ass cheeks were white and soft, but they would not remain that way for long. I had the hairbrush ready even though he tried to wriggle free, I grabbed his right wrist and pulled it back, holding him securely. I started spanking him with the hairbrush. He would be taught a lesson. I promised him that he would be crying by the time that I was done with him. He knew there was no escape. He begged me to stop. His ass had turned from pink to bright red in a very short time. I was relentless, using the hairbrush and switching to the leather strap for emphasis. Both made distinct sounds as they connected with his very sore behind. His arms and legs were flailing in the air. He was caving in to my control over him. By now he was begging me to stop, telling me he would do whatever I wanted. When I did stop spanking him he was wet with tears and sweat.
I then made him stand behind the chair and bend over it with his hands resting on the seat. I warned him not to move. I took that thin cane and told him that I was going to apply twenty strokes with it. He was to count each stroke; if he failed to count properly, we would begin again. If he failed to tell me to change sides on the tenth stroke, we would start again. Throughout his entire punishment session I occasionally stroked his burning hot ass with my cool hand simply to feel the erotic heat that I was creating with every stroke that I applied. You could hear the cane as it sliced the air and made contact with his burning cheeks. He jolted and groaned every time it connected. He was getting exactly what he deserved. Welts were forming, neat precisely placed, quite professional. I knew that he would be able to rub his hands over them and feel them for days after.
I stood in front of him when we finally finished. He dropped to his knees and swore repeatedly that he would be good. He started wildly kissing my black stiletto shoes and silky, black nylons. I allowed it. He was about to free fall to another level.
I looked over to my desk. He never saw the razor strap that rested on the high back of my desk chair…