Bedroom Submission

If you got to know us you would most probably describe us as having dominate personalities. We would agree with that and it’s been long-established by more than a few personality tests. Becall pulls it off with more polish, while I am more of the knuckle dragging Airborne type.

I have spanked nearly a hundred women, most of whom were self-described submissives. Almost all of them had poor self-image. I mention this only to contrast Becall and I with them. We are dominates with positive self images who enjoy being spanked and who can infrequently get into a zone we call bedroom submission. We do not go in the bedroom submissive and we don’t leave it submissive. The state lasts for 5 to 15 minutes and then poof.

It’s rare in our percussive play that we can get into a submissive headspace. When we can, it makes the whole session a lot more enjoyable. Becall is able to get her mind there a few times a year. I always know it, as she tells me to paddle her hard and her orgasms are longer and more intense. I don’t know what allows me to get submissive; I just know when I am there. I have been paddled and she is talking to me about what she is about to do and I feel myself giving up all control to her.

We would be interested in hearing your take on bedroom submission

The Old Days

I was cleaning out a closet today and “found” a VHS tape of Becall and I when we were young and trim. We were early adopters of video cam technology. Of course, we used it record some of our play sessions. The tape has several paddling sessions on it, most of me being paddled and two of Becall bending over. We lost some sessions by leaving the tape in and allowing SNL to be taped over.

What I enjoyed most about seeing the tape was the look of joy on Becall’s face while she paddled me.

The day after

Is this the only spanking blog with switches? I find it hard to believe we are the only couple who mutually enjoy recreational spanking. If you know of another blog like this one, please send us a link to it.

Surely there are as many men who enjoy being spanked as there are women who are fond of a hot bottom. However, there are far fewer women who will spank a man than the other way around. Women relish the submissive mode and find it hard to be dominate, even in play, to please a man.

I went to Spanked Hubby the other day. When he started his blog he often had some good artwork. That was then. I see he has talked his wife into meeting other couples so they can share disciplinary practices. I find it rather funny that he has to hide his enjoyment of being spanked behind a punishment façade. I do something bad, she will spank me for it, she will think she has helped our relationship, I will get turned on and get laid.

We do it a bit differently. The other day Becall decided we would have a joint paddling session. I have heard of joint task forces, etc. but this sounded like fun. How did it work out? Pretty good I would say. We both got the spanking we wanted and then enjoyed sex.

Spanked Hubby has a penchant for privacy. Fine. I am trying to fit that with his having his wife take pictures of him buck naked on Lo Jolla beach. We want to see the bare ass and limp johnson of a 60 year old man?

From time-to-time we meet other couples that say they enjoy spanking each other. But when it’s time for my pants to come down, I find she is just going through the motions to please her husband who is getting a fine spanking from Becall. Then I find she is not much into having her bottom spanked either.

In our early marriage, we were playing in the den, which was on the back of the house. It had a double window and double door. We normally did not close the drapes. On this day the drapes were partially open. I don’t recall who was being spanked, but I happened to see our neighbor walking back to her house. She had taken to coming to our back door and must have done it that day only to see one or both of us being paddled. It was never mentioned and I don’t think she ever came to the back door again.

I have often thought what fun it would be for a neighbor to stop by and bend the both of us over.

Be Careful What You Ask For

It has been a month since our last post, so I will do three short versions of recent play scenes to catch up.

We are always interested in hearing from readers.

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Be Careful What You Ask For

Sometimes my mouth surprises me. It was a special occasion for us and it was all about me. We were talking about what my paddling would consist of. Before I could get my brain engaged, I blurted out that 30 with the batten on my legs and another 30 with our paddles would be about right. As the sentence ended, I thought oh gee, I am in for it now. The session was set for the next day, so I had all evening to think about it.

Becall was looking forward to the session as she was going to give the last few licks over her lap – always her fav position.

At the appointed time, I took off my pants and handed her the batten. She asked me to raise one leg and she brought the batten down on it 2 or 3 times in different places. This was repeated on the other leg. Then she had me turn around and bend over slightly and she popped the back of my legs with the batten. By now, I was aglow. She had me turn around and raise my legs again for more swats on the front of my thighs. She gave me 30 and they burned, but I was also on fire in another way. She rubbed me and let me kiss and fondle her for awhile. Then it was time to bend over and take the Principal’s paddle. I got 20 with it and then I was over her lap for the last 10 – hot and fast. I felt well paddled.


Becall Gets Her’s

A week or so later, it was my pleasure to give Becall a distinctive spanking. We were n an outdoor location that is very extraordinary to us. Plus it is especially private. We took a hike and took turns giving each other bare bottom pops in the late afternoon.

The next morning I took her order for the spanking she wanted. I was to start with the leather strap that elicits plenty of mmmmmummm’s. Follow that with four licks with the batten on each thigh. Then ten swats on her panties with the holey paddle. And finish her off with our stingy red paddle; eight on her panties and eight bare bottom.

She put on her fav red panties and presented herself. I used the leather strap on her panties a hundred times or so. I don’t count. I think she would like it if I paddled her all day with it. She was getting a bit dreamy when I put it down. She sat on the couch and put her heels close to her bottom so I could access her inner thighs with the batten. After each lick, I rubbed her clit with the edge of the batten for a time until she was close to cumming. Then another lick with the batten. She was hot and bothered.

I made the licks with the holey and red paddle go rather quickly as she was getting frantic to get fucked. I told her last licks would really burn, they did ad she loved it.

Becall’s fav position has always been missionary with several pillows under her. She quickly tossed the pillows on the bed, laid down and spread her legs. God was she wet. I did not disappoint her, and fucked her hard and fast, just like she likes it. She came several times in mere minutes. After a few minutes she came back to earth.

My Turn Again

We had not been able to play in six days and I was seriously horny and needy for a paddling. I asked for 20 with the batten and 10 with the Principal’s paddle. I got the batten and a dozen with the paddle. Then she asked me if I wanted two more right away or a rest break with fondling and then another four. I opted for the two! She then gave me a divine hand job.

That Batten again

We have had our batten for 5/6 years. We first used on each others bottoms and the effect was not great, so it was seldom used. Just one more item in the toy chest.

After I was introduced to the pleasure of the cane on my legs, we somehow started using the batten on my legs. Frankly, I liked it more than the cane. I like it the front and back of my legs.

I like to share, , so I used the batten on Becall’s legs. She was not a fan of it in the same places I liked it but suggested I use it on the inside of her thighs close to her most sensitive spot. She says the nerves in her thighs seem to be directly connected to her “most sensitive spot”. I give her a moderate thwack and she comes close to orgasm. I tap her “most sensitive spot” with batten and she has a nice come. Another thwack or two, more tapping, another orgasm.

After a few rounds of this she is ready for a more spirited release.

The Beginning

One of our few readers, bless you, asked how we got together. We were both in college. We dated, she got spanked. We married, I admitted I liked being spanked. Becall was most accomodative.

Most of the spankings in the early part of our marriage involved me bent over. After a few years, she became old enough to tell me that she would like to be spanked more often and how she would like to be spanked.

Communication is so important

The Bet

This switching story comes to us from one of the readers.

“You’re on,” Deborah said. “Unfortunately we won’t be able to watch it live,” Chris responded, “So I’ll Tivo it. We’ll just avoid any news on the way home.” Chris and Deb had a reoccurring bet since they started dating. Chris was from Washington D.C. and a Redskins fan while Deb grew up in New York, and rooted for the Giants. “I told Patty that it wouldn’t make a difference if Timmy got christened next month, but she didn’t agree. It starts at one thirty. And then there is lunch at some restaurant after.” Deb said. “We could skip the and maybe be home by five?” “No, we can’t. I know how much you hate small talk, but we’d miss the game anyway.” The couple made their way through the mall, “So what’s thewinner get this time?” Deb asked. “Looser cooks for a week?” “Hmm, I don’t know if my stomach could handle winning that again.” “Hey!” Chris responded giving his wife a playful nudge on the shoulder. Still laughing Deb said, “We need to pick up some of that coffee for Patty.” Deb guided Chris through the maze of retail, directly to the kitchen supply store. While Chris filled a one pound bag Deb wandered the aisles. When he had finished he found his wife perusing the cutlery section, “Do we need anything else?” He asked. “Not really, unless I found our bet?” “What do you mean?” Deb said lifted a long breadboard, “the looser gets 10 with this?”It was 18 inches long unfinished wood with a handle carved into it. Chris laughed out loud, “Um, ouch?” “What’s the matter, worried?” “Me, my team has a quarterback.” “Ok then, ten for the looser, that’s a good number.” “Ten how about a little more interesting? We’ll go by the difference in the score?” “Oh, I don’t think I could hit you that many times. But if you think you can handle it, OK” “Fine, may the best man win” Chris said emphasizing “man” “The only position I have to think about is your’s, bent over,” She said holding out her hand. Chris took it and they firmly shook. “Wow, that service was painful,” Chris commented. Debbie let another couple enter the restaurant ahead of them and tugged Chris’ sleeve to stop, “That’s three times you said painful in the last ten minutes. You preoccupied with what you’re getting later.” She whispered. Chris laughed and walked through the door, “You betterhope not, because you’ll be the one paying for it if you loose.” “If? You don’t sound too confident,” Deb said following. One of the couple that they had entered with had over heard Chris’ comment, “Sounds like someone has a bet going?” Deb answered as they took their seats at a nearby table, “Chris and I always have a bet on any Giants Redskin’s games.” “Mixed marriage huh?” The men said, taking a seat. As the whole table chuckled, the man’s wife answered, “So what is the bet.” Deborah glanced at Chris who was reaching for his water glass. A mischievous grin spread across her face as she turned to the woman, “It’s usually pretty tame, this time we’ve upped the stakes though.” She turned back toward Chris. “This year the loser won’t be sitting down for quite a while after the game.” Chris blushed. He didn’t believe she would really say anything, but the way she’d been acting recently, Chris didn’t want to take that chance. “Yeah, all the chores that were put off from coming down here get to be done by the looser after the game,” Chris said as his eyes met Deb’s. The look she gave him said, “ha-ha made you small talk.” The rest of the lunch passed uneventfully. After coffee had been served, Chris leaned over to Deb, “We should get going. If we leave now we’ll get home around the end of the late games.” “Well we have a long drive, it was nice meeting everyone.” Debbie announced, “email me those pictures when you get a chance.” “As soon as I get home,” answered the woman they walked in with. Chris immediately went to the TV and checked the saved programs. There it was in big bold letters NFL FOOTBALL WASH VS NYG 1:00PM. “You know? Part of me is a little disappointed,” Deb said as she walked in carrying the paddle, “If you missed it, we could just check the final score and I could start using this on you,” She laid the paddle across the top of the TV. The first half passed quickly. There was more emotion in the living room than on the field. Deb taunted Chris about every good New York play, and ridicule for every Washington mistake. Chris’ only response was, “you know, you really sound more like an Eagle’s fan.” She answered by sticking out her tongue. The half ended in a 6 – 6 tie. Chris paused the TV, “Do you want something for dinner?” “Good idea, you won’t be able to sit comfortably to eat if we wait until after.” Chris chuckled, “What do you want?” “To eat,” he added just as Debbie was going to make a smart comment. “What ever you’re having is fine,” she said as she kissed him. “Having for dinner, not what you’re getting later,” she joked and grabbed his ass. “I’m going to get changed.” “Wear something easy to pull down,” he replied giving her a squeeze. Deb ran upstairs while Chris made two sandwiches. He put them, a bag of chips, and two beers on the coffee table. He stopped in front of the TV and hefted the paddle. Chris swung it slowly once through the air. This was certainly the heaviest implement they owned and a part of him was not looking forward to feeling it. Especially not tonight, “Let’s go guys.” He replaced the paddle and trotted toward the stairs like the players heading into the locker room. Chris changed into sweatpants and his team jersey. Deb was across the hall at the computer in her Giants sweatshirt and stretch pants, “Just checking emails. We got those pictures for the christening.” “You ready to get put away in the second half.” “You were watching the same game I was right?” “If it was the one with the sucky team in maroon, then yes” she joked. “You just don’t quit. You’re cocky because it’s close. Probably be decided by a field goal. So only three swats.” “Ok then, let’s up the bet. Double?” “You sure you want to do that” “Yeah my arm won’t get tired.” “OK then, double it is.” The second half went much like the first. Nothing exciting, but neither potential spankee gave up on their team. With under a minute to go, Washington had just tied the game. “Come on boys, hold ’em and take this thing to overtime.” Chris said leaning off the couch. “Plenty of time Big Blue. A field goal for six of the best.” The kick went up. Deep and long, it seemed to use up half the time on the clock while in the air. The New York Giant fielded it at the goal line. The ball bounced off his chest and landed a few yards in front “No!” Deb screamed. The return man tried to scoop up the errant ball but only managed to bat it up the field. The Washington players drew closer. “Fall on it, fall on it!” Chris yelled as if they could hear him. Two players dove for the ball but it avoided their grasps and bounced away. Finally as if the ball acted on purpose, it bounced perfectly into the waiting hands of one of the Giants. Most the other players were either on the ground or entangled with someone else. He took off down the field, easily out distancing everyone else. Only the kicker stood between him and the end zone. Debbie kept chanting, “Go! Run you fool, run!” Chris was transfixed mumbling quietly, “get him, get him.” The kicker made a valiant attempt, diving for the Giant but only sprawled himself across the field. New York scored a touchdown with seconds left, and the rest of the game ticked away while Chris sat dumbfounded. Deborah on the other hand instantly sprang up and retrieved the paddle, “Woo Hoo! Go big Blue, go big Blue!” She sang as she held it over her head like a trophy. Chris looked at his wife in disbelief, “Let’s go mister, There’s going to be one more Redskin tonight.” Chris chuckled despite himself, “You’ve been saving that one,” Deb just nodded with a huge grin, “I should paddle you just for making such a bad joke.” Laughing and motioning to the stairs she replied, “Oh no, this is all for you. 14.” Chris led the way upstairs. “Hands on the bed should work nicely,” Deb stated stepping up beside her husband. Chris bent forward, placed his palms on the bed with his feet wide apart. He raised his head and took a deep breath. He glimpsed his wife while she stroked the flat of the paddle. He knew this was going to hurt, but the tingle in his stomach also caused another part of him to tingle. “Are you ready?” “Yes,” was Chris’ reply, followed almost immediately by a loud smack. Chris felt his cheeks go numb for a split second, but didn’t feel as much pain as he expected. The second swat fell exactly like the first. This time a sting lingered. “Hmm, I think these need to go,” Deb said lowering the paddle. She hooked her thumbs through the waistbands of his sweats and his boxers. In one motion she yanked them down to his ankles. The air on his exposed lower half added to both Chris’ excitement and trepidation. Deborah continued the blows. Whack, whack, whack. Three quick hits made Chris lift up onto histoes and almost lay on the bed. He knew if got too far out of position, Deb wouldn’t count the swats, but brushing against the bed did feel good. Whack, whack. The next two strikes were harder. Chris leaned in again, and let out two loud grunts. He could feel his cheeks tightening up; the tingling behind him was gone, replaced by a deep stinging. With half of the penalty paid, Chris braced himself. “Now for the double. Too bad it wasn’t a field goal.” The phone rang. “Oh, looks like you get a halftime,” she said as she picked it up. “Hello…Oh hi…nothing, just settling up a bet…one sec mom.” Deb patted Chris’ red ass while grinning and motioned for him to stand up, “I’ll just be a minute.” Chris stretched his back, and turned away from Deb. He shuffled toward the bedroom door and pulled up his boxers. He walked without bending his knees, and gently put is hands to his sore backside. Chris walked into the office and noticed that the computer was on. He thought checking his fantasy football might distract him. Chris sat gently and kept some weight on his feet, he pushed the mouse and the familiar list of new emails appeared. As he moved to “x” out of mail, the preview pane caught his eye. “Deb, here are the pictures, and congrats on the Giants,” read the subject.Chris checked the time stamp, four hours. He stood up slowly and walked purposefully into the bedroom.”OK…I will…take care…bye,” Deb said haning up thephone. She reached for the paddle, “Ok Hon, ready for the second half?” “I don’t think so,” he responded. “A bet’s a bet?” Deb sounded a little unsure. “Double the bet huh? How many times have I asked you to turn off the computer?” “Oh you can’t weasel out for something like that ” “Oh I’m not. Those are interesting pictures from the christening” “OK, but what’s that got to…” Deb froze. Her eyes darted back and forth. She clutched the paddle tight, “Ok, well, you took your seven, we’ll just call it even.” “You cheated, you little…” “No I didn’t, not really. How could I? I would have doubled anyway” “Deborah, give me the paddle.” She melted at the command. Dropping her gaze, she handed Chris the paddle, “now bend over the bed.” Deborah’s face began to flush as she stepped up to the bed. Chris heart started to race, “Now how many? I could give you the next seven. Or, what was that number you liked? 10 was it?” Deb remained silent, bent over. “After the way you’ve been acting, and the cheating, I think that’s fair. Anything you want to say?” Deborah took a deep breath, “I deserve it.” Chris drew back the paddle, hesitated an instant, and then swung. Whack. The first smack took Deb’s breath away. Whack. The second brought the tingle back to Chris. Watching his wife take what he just got made him want her more and more with each swat. Whack. As the third hit landed, Deborah stood up and put both hands on her ass. “Ow, damn that hurts,” she tried to rub out the sting. “Tell me about it. Back down, you have more.” Chris tugged down her pants and panties. Whack. Deb grunted and dropped her head to the bed. Whack. She lay forwarded rolling onto her side and reached one hand back. Chris waited a moment, and then he heard the sob. The red in Deborah’s cheeks had no gentle fade at the edges, only a harsh contrast to the rest of her skin. “Honey, are you ok?” “Yes,” gasped a weak response. “Ok, you’ve had enough, come here.” “No,” Deb’s replied stronger, “I want the rest.” She took her position, sniffed, and wiped back tears. “Really Deb, it’s ok” “I want the rest, I’m ready…please.” Chris lined up the paddle. Whack. This strike was lighter the others. Whack, the next was the same, and the sobs returned. Chris excitement was evident as his boxers pushed out in front, despite the hesitation he felt, “Now we’re even.” “Give me the rest,” Deb pleaded, panting loudly “You’re sure?” “Yes. You just be ready to fuck me when you’re done.” That comment erased all doubt, and if it was possible Chris’ excitement doubled. The paddle rose and fell as hard as the first swat. Whack. Chris drew it back quickly as Deborah let out a grunt. Whack. Chris left the paddle in contact with Deb’s ass. Deb pushed back against it, but stayed in position. “Take me now,” Deb practically yelled. Chris whipped off his boxers, and stepped up behind his wife. The couple started their own game, that in the end left them tired, satisfied, and sore. Both of them hoped their teams would meet more than once again this year.

A Male Bottom’s Fantasy

It is been too long since I posted. We are traveling, seeing old friends and making a few new ones. No, not all share our interest in spanking. I thought I would share a little tale with you – A Male Bottom’s Fantasy.

Well it might also be a fantasy of some women, I can’t say. I have met a few women who have come up with some play scenes that twisted my crank that catered to male eroticism. I have also played with some women who ideas for play were exactly like mine. “Yes, I want you to do me, exactly what you said you wanted to do to me”. There are some areas or times when male and female eroticism seem to blend and blur.

I have written before about how Becall and I feel panties and spanking go together. Becall has three drawers of panties, most bought in the days when we attended spanking parties on a regular basis. By extension, we also both enjoy panty girdles occasionally for playtime. Nothing severely controlling, just a little Lycra to separate the cheeks and make them more appealing. We have noted that girdles concentrate the redness into a smaller circle than if the same paddling were given over panties or bare bottom.

Here’s example of the style of panty girdle we prefer.

Occasionally when we are home, I will find a panty girdle Becall has laid out on the bed for me. I know she has the matching one on. We will do chores or run errands while wearing them. We are always aware of them. In short order, we end the anticipation and paddle each other in our girdles.

I am not sure of where my fetish for girdles comes from. Perhaps, only because I grew up in the tail end of the era where women and proper young ladies always wore a foundation. They may not have needed the control or support, but proper young girls always wore a girdle on dates. I know in some instances they wore them because their mothers insisted they wear them as insurance that making-out did not go too far. I recall two lasses I dated, where everything would come off, except their girdle. We were both nude in the backseat, except for that layer of Lycra.

Or perhaps my passion for panty girdles, derives from the fact that I spanked most of my dates starting about age 14. Almost always, they had on a girdle, so the first, and sometimes the last, swats were over their girdles. Not one of them ever protested about being spanked even when it became a regular feature of our dates.

As much as I thought about spanking as a teen, I was almost 21 before I ever thought about a woman spanking me.

Now, to my little male spanking fantasy.

Bogey has been a smart alek, know-it-all at his new school and the teacher has taken all she can take from him. She calls him up to her desk, gives him a sealed envelope and tells him to take it to the office. He hands the envelope to the secretary, who opens, reads it and looks back at him and tells him to sit on the bench against the wall. She then knocks on a door, enters and returns to her desk without the note and goes back to her work.

Bogey figures he is in trouble and suspects he is in for a lecture about keeping his mouth shut and respecting the teacher. The clock on the wall ticks off the minutes as he fidgets and tries to act normal as people come and go in the office. After 35 minutes, a woman opens the door the secretary had entered and says “Bogey”. He enters her office while she holds the door open and closes it behind him. He is right about a lecture, it’s short. “Miss Becker writes that you have misbehaved all week. She also writes that she has talked with you on three occasions to no avail. She is invoking her right to exclude you from her class, unless your behavior changes vastly and immediately. That will be your decision. My decision is to paddle you for disrupting her class.” She opens her door and calls Becky Swift one of the student office assistants. “Becky, will you please take Bogey to the back room and get him ready to be paddled”.

Bogey’s head is swimming and he cannot say anything, but just follows Becky down the hall. He knows her, she is a grade ahead of him. They ride the same bus to school. She is petite and real cute. She is wearing a pleated skirt and a white blouse, proper, but flirty.

Becky puts a key in the door lock and opens the door and ushers Bogey inside. The room is almost bare, except for the bench in the middle of the room. “You need to take off your clothes, pants, shoes, and underwear”. “What?” “Take them off now, you must be ready before she gets down here”. “You are going to watch?” She smiled, “Yes, I am”. He started fumbling with his belt and zipper and then realized he was developing a bone. He sure did not want to pull his pants down now. He turned away from her and removed his pants, hoping the bone would go away as fast as it had come. “Hurry, you sure do not want to keep her waiting.” He finished removing his pants and slowly pulled his underwear down, his bone catching in the waistband, was pulled down and then slapped back against his belly.

“OK, now lay face down on the bench”. “But, I can’t”. “I have seen those before, now lay on the bench so I can strap you in before she arrives”. He turns and faces her and the bench, but cannot look at her thinking his face is flushed red. He lays down quickly to hide his erection from her.

She buckles straps over his ankles, thighs, lower back, shoulders, upper arms and wrists. He is confined, with his bottom in a perfect position for a paddling. He also notes that his erection is in space, sticking through a hole in the bench. Becky leaves and soon he hears two sets of footsteps coming down the hall. The door opens and Mrs. O’Gara and Becky come in. Neither of them say anything, but Mrs. O’Gara begins unbuttoning her blouse, removes it and hangs it on hook on the wall. She is not small, nor large, probably a size 12/14. Her bra is white and embroidered. While Bogey watches, she then removes her skirt and slip and hangs them on a hook next to her blouse. Now she is in bra and panty girdle, her hose hooked to garters on her girdle.

She opens a cabinet, picks up a wood paddle, taps her palm with it twice, looks at Bogey, moves to his side, raises the paddle and brings it down on his bare cheeks. It stings, but he knows he can take this paddling. He has had a lot worse. After a dozen licks, Bogey notices that she has given Becky a look and a nod of her head. Becky sits on a low stool and takes Bogey’s bone in hand. He is stunned and twists his head to see her. She is smiling and pumping away. Some women give a hand job, with the same excitement of playing with a Jack-in-the-box. They know what is going to happen and grin all the time, then laugh when it pops. Her skirt is necessarily high sitting on the low stool and he can see her bare legs and a glimpse of her panties. She keeps pumping him rapidly and soon enough he is squirting and she is grinning widely. He is starting to think, wow, an easy paddling and a magnificent hand job. Punishment here is not so bad. He hears Mrs. O’Gara heels click on the tile floor and the sound of the cabinet opening. Good, she is putting the paddle away. He figures Becky will start releasing him from the straps.

[Now for all those men who believe that adult spanking can be discipline]

WHAP, Bogey felt a fire in his bottom, he looked at Mrs. O’Gara and saw the wide strap she was holding in the air; he saw the exertion in her face as she pulled the strap down on his bare bottom again. He had never felt such pain. Again and again she slammed the strap down on him. He was pleading, then crying uncontrollably before she stopped. “Perhaps this will persuade you to behave in the classroom, young man. If not, I shall endeavor to strap you harder and longer.” She then turned and put on her clothes, while Becky released him. “Put on your clothes and go stand outside Miss Becker’s classroom. I will be there when the period bell rings”.

The next installment will describe what Miss Becker has in mind for Bogey.