The Private Tutor

The Private Tutor What can fathers do when their sons fail their school exams because they spend too much time out with girlfriends, clubbing and playing in a rock band? Call for The Private Tutor. Using traditional educational approaches, he will soon lick them into shape. The whippy rattan cane, the taws, the paddle and … Continue reading The Private Tutor

Seeking the inner boy

I am stark naked and bent across the knees of an old man. Mr MacDonald is pounding my upturned fleshy buttocks with a heavy hairbrush. He is using every ounce of his strength. He will keep this up until there is no part of my bum or the back of my thighs that is not … Continue reading Seeking the inner boy

By order of the court

Mr Creswell paced the length of his front room; it wasn’t a big room and it didn’t take him more than five steps to get from one side to the other. Anxiously he looked at his watch: it was nearly time they should arrive any minute now. Upstairs in his bedroom his eighteen-year-old son waited, … Continue reading By order of the court

Still spanked by dad aged 25

Twenty-five-year-old Alistair McAndrew fumbled with the buckle of his belt before loosening it; then he released the two clasps at the top of his cream chino trousers. Once the zipper was down they fell to his knees. He lifted his shirt away from his buttocks and carefully lowered himself over the back of the couch. … Continue reading Still spanked by dad aged 25

Pilfering at the chip shop

When I was younger so much younger than today I had a lot of different jobs. It was my choice. You could in those days. I might spend the summer at the seaside and Christmas in a department store or lugging mailsacks for the post office. I loved it. Moving around, never in the same … Continue reading Pilfering at the chip shop

Getting back on track

So there I was, twenty-two-years old, nearly twenty-three, with my jeans down at my shins and spread-eagled across the table in the front room; my underpants stretched across my firm, meaty buttocks. Nearby, stood Mr Cudlipp swiping a thick, but whippy rattan cane through the air. Mr Cudlipp was my landlord. That is to say … Continue reading Getting back on track

The student’s big fat fail

Stacey clutched the essay in his hand despondently. An “F”. He had an “F”. A big fat fail. He looked forlornly at the professor seated at his desk in front of him. An “F”. Joseph Stacey had nobody to blame but himself. He had written the essay in haste. He hadn’t been near the library, … Continue reading The student’s big fat fail

The milk bottle thief

James Danvers left his home at six-thirty on the dot every morning. His house was unexceptional in every way, just one more suburban box in a street composed of identical suburban boxes. His journey to the newsagent took about five minutes.  He bought a copy of the Daily Express and then he walked home again. … Continue reading The milk bottle thief

Housemate pays the rent

Alexander Aldridge stood dumbfounded. His mouth literally gaped open. Before him stood a figure menacingly flexing a school cane between his huge hairy hands. “Y… you want to cane me?” It was question as much as a statement. The sun was quickly setting and the drawing room was gloomy. Soon they would need to turn … Continue reading Housemate pays the rent

Late at the office

Josef pushed his cleaning cart through the large open plan office. It was close to eight in the evening, he expected the place to be deserted. Josef did not like his job. It was boring and he felt exploited by the international accounting conglomerate. They made millions in profit each year, but he was on … Continue reading Late at the office