Inspired by Haron’s end-of-University caning, I had naughty, naughty dreams last night as my young lady slept next to me, face down, wincing every time my mischievous hands reached out for her bottom…
A Housemaster at a prestigious girls’ school had a son at University, and said son had formed a relationship with one of his father’s sixth-formers.
Said young lady was part of a group of the girls who found themselves before the Housemaster for the whack; her strokes – whilst painful – were administered noticeably more gently than those inflicted on her contemporaries.
Her punished friends considered this unfair. Word of their grievance percolated up to the Headmaster, who therefore re-administered the girl’s caning later that evening.
It’s not unknown for us to re-enact such kinky dreams when we whisper them to each other in the morning. Yet today, Haron’s safe. After all, last night’s caning was to be her last dose of discipline as a student. Her backside is therefore an implement-free zone – for another five hours and thirteen minutes, at least, until the clock strikes midnight and she formally leaves academia. And then she’s mine. My own. My preciousssssssss…