Miss Hasler's English Class

I’ve been toying with the idea of hosting virtual ‘lessons’ in English for a while now: using blog posts as the basis for a very 21st century kind of teaching environment – and an opportunity for kinky school roleplay – for interested blog visitors.

I figured I could write a bit each time about an English topic (very much my strong suit; don’t ask me a maths question) and set homework tasks based upon it. Readers who wanted to could complete the exercises and email me their work, or post it in the comments to the ‘lesson’ post in question, and I could mark and grade it. People could be as public or as private as they each preferred: I wouldn’t reveal somebody’s work if they didn’t want me to. But if someone wanted their grade to be made public, I could happily do that too!

The comments would also be ideal for classroom roleplay: after all, they’re an open exchange between you, I and the rest of the blog’s readers. (Or, in the case of lesson posts, those readers who wished to participate). And participants would automatically be ‘in’ the classroom by virtue of reading the comment thread. A bit like a roleplay chatroom, I suppose.

And, because this is the internet, time and space don’t really matter: anyone, anywhere could respond to a post/lesson any time they liked, regardless of when the post was originally written.

Sound like fun? I hope so. I figure it’s worth a try, anyway!

The sexy picture above comes, of course, from the wonderful School Mistress Fantasy.

N.B. A thought on the comment threads to lessons. You are of course all free to contribute as you please: write or ‘speak’ in character or out of it; use comments to show me your jotter work; think or act as you might if you really were in a (kinky adult) classroom. Be as naughty or well-behaved as you feel.

It just occurs to suggest a couple of common ways of representing actions in text, as I imagine we will want to ‘act’ as well as ‘speak’.

One is to enclose the action between asterisks, like this: *grabs hair of girl in the front row* or *Penny looked up at the teacher nervously*

Another is to italicise the action text. You do this in comments by enclosing the relevant text in <i> tags, like this: <i>laughs</i> or <i>Penny grinned at the doodle in her jotter.</i> These will appear as laughs and Penny grinned at the doodle in her jotter.

Walking and talking

When I’m not writing, or being spanked, one of the things I spend a lot of time doing is walking. I have a dog (the loveliest, bestest dog in the world) and between us BH and I take him out three times a day. That’s a lot of walking, and a lot of time.

And, while we walk, we talk. Very often, as it happens, about sex, and kink. We’re a talkative couple in general – but then, poor BH, the only times I generally shut up are when I’m asleep or when I’m gagged – but it does seem that, strolling about the idyllic English countryside*, we talk about naughty, sexy stuff far more than anything else. Maybe it’s the fresh air.

Here’s a pie chart that helpfully breaks down the topics of our discourse:

As well as just generally talking dirty to each other, we often talk about outdoor spanking and outdoor sex, and BH likes to tease me with threats and promises. Not that I need much encouragement to imagine being spanked and fucked. Kink must be hard-wired into my brain because every single time we pass by a bench I picture myself being spanked OTK on it. (And most times I mention this fact to BH). Jeans and knickers down, smacked bottom and blushing face both red as a cherry. Oh! But! What if someone sees?

It’s a yummy fantasy, all right.

And what is it about trees? Is it some kind of primal thing? They just seem to cry out for you to get up to naughty things amongst them, behind them, on them, up against them...

I do long to be put across a fallen tree and spanked (in a long, flowing dress, for some reason). And also to be stripped naked in the middle of the woods, tied to a tree and thrashed. Then fucked. Although that one might have to wait until we own a bit of land (or at least a garden). A middle-aged couple wandering by as I was in the middle of being wantonly ravished – bound and helpless, my fair skin streaked red from the caress of the birch – would definitely take some of the carefree abandon away from the experience. It’s funny: the idea of being seen getting a spanking turns me on, but that of being seen having sex doesn’t. It must be something to do with the humiliation aspect of spanking.

Anyway, despite all the talk, we have yet to summon the courage to try al fresco spanking, beyond a few sly slaps to my rear as we stroll. But I’m confident that we will give it a whirl at some point, in all its bare-bottomed, kicking, screaming, over-the-knee glory. And, who knows, maybe even outdoor sex (with lashings of lashings and harsh bondage) too. Weather permitting.

If anyone has tried either (or both) of these things, I’d love to hear from you!

The picture at the top of this post, that so expertly illustrates the act of walking, is taken from one of my favourite books: Hop on Pop by Dr Seuss. Great book! (Of course, it’s one of little Penny’s favourites, too. She can read nearly all the words in it, all by herself, you know).

*poetic licence.

Knickers pulled up? Noooo!

Okay. That’s hopefully that for non-kinky stuff leaving me with zero time. (Yay!) I hope you’ve all been well (and very naughty).

So what weighty matter is first on the to-write-about list? A little encomium to a kinky practice that doesn’t seem to get a lot of attention, but which I happen to personally enjoy very much: the wedgie.

Here’s a pretty hot example of a young lady being given just such a thing, found via the ever-rewarding More Than It Hurts Me:

Goodness! How uncomfortable that looks! How demeaning!

And therein lies the appeal, basically: a wedgie provides the recipient with a dual sensation of physical and psychological discomfort (and so, for the kinkily-minded, pleasure), very much like that evoked by a spanking. Just as with spanking, I guess you either enjoy the physical sensation or you don’t – I certainly do; having my knickers pulled up forcefully and uncomfortably really turns me on – and the same goes for the unique feeling of subjugation that goes with it. When BH gives me a wedgie it makes me feel like a possession; an object; a bratty, slutty little wench with all the gravitas and standing of an unruly child: my dignity completely negated at the will of another. Ohh! I am happy to admit that being pulled into position like that (whether for a spanking or just as part of slightly rough foreplay) really gets my submissive juices flowing. Amongst other things.

Wedgies and spanking can of course work superbly well together, the wedgie providing an alternative means of baring a naughty bottom to the more typical yanking down of the panties. From a roleplay perspective, they probably don’t suit every situation (‘knickers down’ generally suits e.g. school discipline scenarios better), but they can really work well as part of domestic discipline-style fun. Speaking as a submissive, you can’t really lose: having your most intimate item of clothing pulled up or down as a prelude to a thoroughly smacked bottom – it’s just win-win!

That’s a little of what I think about the humble wedgie, anyway. Any fans out there? I’d love to hear your thoughts on them.

Update: a very kind reader has sent me a great picture of a naughty schoolgirl getting a good hard wedgie and a good hard spanking:

Yum! That is just what I want! The lucky girl!

Where's that girl?

Hello dear Hasler-watchers and sorry for the quietness – fear not, I haven’t fallen through a trapdoor into one of Nick’s dungeons or been locked in a reformatory – I’m just crazy busy right now. Normal silly service will hopefully be resumed soon.

While I’m here, though, I would like to draw your attention (with an air stewardess-like gesture) to a new and nifty spanking fiction blog. Taste For Disgrace Spanking Stories is a companion site to the brilliant Taste For Disgrace, and the first story is an absolute peach. Trust me, if you like hot stories about sassy college girls getting blistering discipline spankings, you’ll like it!

The picture above is an entirely accurate representation of the sort of thing I’ve been kept busy with, by the way.

Penny and the Stolen Tart

Those pesky Penelopes get everywhere... I came across the above whilst searching for vintage stories and pics: it’s a scan from a ‘girl’s own’ story (from yer actual Schoolgirl’s Own Annual, no less), starring everyone’s favourite pinafored protagonist.

Alas, the Penelope in this story sounds like a bit of a drip. From what I can gather she has unwittingly scoffed a tart and a cream bun intended for a prefect, as she is new at the school and unaware of the protocols. Being a drip, she is full of remorse and quite desperate to make amends. Tsk. If it was me, I’d have leaned back in the prefect’s chair and smiled, “Yeah, I ate ya bun, and ya tart. And I’d eat ‘em again, see?” (In my best 1940s gangster voice). And I certainly wouldn’t let anyone call me a chump! (See the caption below). But then I quite like the idea of being scolded and spanked by a senior girl for my outrageous cheek and then reported to a prefect for more yummy punishment.

The scanned page isn’t the clearest, so I’ve transcribed the text here for you. Like a good little Fifth Former. (Simper, smile)

*****

...the pot near the ring, and refilling the kettle, put it ready.

“One cream bun and a tart missing – no bread-and-butter,” she mused, as Penelope confessed what she had eaten. “All right. You’ll have to make it good. I’ve got to rush down to the Housemistress. What you must do is to pelt down to the tuckshop and get a tart and a cream bun.”

“And bring it back here?” was the anxious query.

“Can’t leave it outside on the mat,” smiled Sheila. “It’ll be all right. I’m telling Gertrude’s friend that there’s a delay – and there’s no crime in bringing a prefect a tart and bun – unless there’s mustard in it, and I can see you’re not the sort to get larking about like that.”

“Oh, no!” said Penelope, shaken by the mere idea.

“Well, off you go – look, there’s the tuckshop,” added Sheila, taking her to the window. “And if any of the girls say you have to stand treat because you’re a new girl, just pretend you’re Chinese and jabber at them, and don’t understand. And don’t let them keep you there talking, asking where you live and where you were at school, or anything. Come right back, or by golly there’ll be trouble. All right?”

Penelope gave her a look of deep gratitude.

“Yes, I’ll manage,” she said. “And thanks a lot. You’ve saved me from a fearful scrape – Sheila,” she added shyly. “I’m ever so grateful, I am really.”

“Forget it!” shrugged Sheila, making for the door.

She went skipping down the corridor until she remembered the awful row in store, and then slowed to a walk.

Ordinary rows Sheila did not mind. Although she was captain of her form this did not prevent her earning lines. More than once the Housemistress had told her that unless she realised the importance of her position, the form would have to elect someone else – someone like Mildred Terrence, who regularly came in the first three at exam times, and was seldom punished from one term’s end to the next.

Only the form would never elect Mildred – and school tradition gave them the right to elect their own captain.

Not that being captain was all fun. In the...

*****

Okay, so the plot isn’t exactly rip-roaring, but the atmosphere is just wonderful, isn’t it? Unfortunately I don’t own the book that the page is taken from – I found the image on this website about British comics – so the story is sadly incomplete. If anyone happens to know (or own) the book in question, do let me know!

Maria rocks!

Pow. An easy win over Petra Kvitova in her French Open semi and Maria Sharapova has resumed her rightful place as world number one! The sexiest and the best: what a gal.

Oh, and if Maria wins Saturday’s final (which she will) she will complete a career grand slam, i.e. she will have won all four major tournaments at one time or another. That’s a pretty big deal.

No kinky story about Maria this time – but then perhaps one of my visitors will write one in the comments and show me how it’s done.

Gathered amongst gleaning angels

A brand, shiny new edition of Wellred Weekly (the Library of Spanking Fiction’s journal) has just been released, and I’m pleased to say that hidden amongst the good stuff is an article written by yours truly. The piece is an expanded version of a post I wrote on commonalities between spanking fiction and Gothic fiction (and there are a few), so check it out if that sort of thing floats your boat!

Penny and her Aunty

Little Penny is a very lucky (and a very contented) young lady. She has a safe, loving home, a Daddy who gives her hugs and spankings whenever she needs them, and all the cuddly toys a little girl could ever want.

And of course she also has a beautiful Aunty who loves her very, very much. Penny loves her just as much in return, and her little face always brightens when she hears that ‘Aunty And-ea’ is coming to visit.

So just imagine her delight when she was invited to stay at Aunty’s house for the weekend! The little poppet simply smiled to bursting. (She was, alas, told off by Daddy for jumping up and down on the sofa, but I think her enthusiasm was understandable).

Aunty Andrea has an account of her little niece’s stay available to read on her wonderful blog, so do pop over and see how it went!