To all my naughty boys...

Okay, enough theorising about kinky roleplay; time for a little practice. Now, I may be a naughty little girl but I have a decidedly dominant side that I like to express every so often. And I think it's about time I gave some attention to those male readers of mine who, whether they admit it or not, badly need correction from a firm female hand.

You know exactly who you are, so it's no use denying it. You visit my site (and goodness knows what other sites) to get a naughty little thrill, don't you? Reading about spanking turns you on, doesn't it? And as for looking at all those filthy images, well!

I can picture you now, playing with your little cock, a disgusting stream of images parading across your computer monitor. Women dressed as schoolgirls... women in their underwear... women entirely naked! Well, my boy, you had better believe that if I ever come into your room and catch you looking at such material or, even worse, masturbating over it I will make you very, very sorry indeed. I imagine in fact that it will go something like this...

*****

"And WHAT is the meaning of this, young man?" I demand, twisting your ear and pointing an accusing finger at the screen. "How DARE you look at such things!"

In a flash you are lifted from your seat by the ear. You blush in embarrassment as I glare down disapprovingly at your little erect cock. "And what is this? As if looking at pornography wasn't bad enough, you get hard without express female permission! Well, I know just what to do with wicked little boys like you!"

I sit in your seat with an authoritative elegance, my short pleated skirt riding up and revealing a few more inches of my thighs. But you have precious little time to ogle them as the very next moment I pull you down across my knee and immediately set to work warming your naughty bare bottom with my hard hand.

"So you think it's fun to look at pictures of schoolgirls being spanked, do you?" SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! "We'll see just how much fun it is when it's you on the receiving end!"

"Ouch! Ow! I'm s-sorry, Miss Hasler!"

"I beg your pardon? You're sorry? Not nearly sorry enough, my boy!"

And I smack your plump, deserving cheeks with all my might until they glow, ignoring your forlorn pleas and holding you firmly in place.

Of course, after a good quarter of an hour or so of spanking I will slip my hand between your legs to check your cock for hardness. And believe me, if I should happen to find so much as a trace of it, I will teach you a lesson you won't soon forget courtesy of a hundred with my wooden hairbrush.

"Still rock hard, I see! You really are the naughtiest little boy there ever was! It's the hairbrush for you, my lad, and I don't want to hear any of your whining!" WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

After thirty blistering swats, tears flow freely down your pained face. But the displeased female roasting your seat couldn't care less, and that awful hairbrush just keeps stinging you. "You can cry all you like, young man! You deserve a jolly good hiding, and that's just what you're going to get!"

The hundred swats soon become a hundred and fifty, thanks to your insolence, and by the time I let you up from my lap your bruised bottom feels like it's on fire. Oh, how you regret your misbehaviour now!

But of course you'll have plenty of time for regret as you stand whimpering in the corner, your hands on your head, your trousers and underpants crumpled pathetically round your feet and your well-spanked bottom glowing a deep, painful red. And don't think you won't get another beating should you be foolish enough to turn your head and peek at me as I look through your disgusting collection of pictures, my hand slipped underneath my skirt.

The lovely photo above comes from Strict Women, a great domestic femdom site.