The English Headmaster

      Uh-oh….this is problematical….

          I just took a good hard look at the marks on my ass…

          I have a serious bruise from yesterday.  With cane marks over it.  Serious.  A serious fucking BLACK hematoma.

          I’ve had much worse.  I’m not complaining.  But jeez, this does not look like it came from a little playful smacky-smacky with the girls.  

        What am I going to tell the Mathematician?  He’s naive about this S&M stuff but he’s not an idiot.  He is a very intelligent man.  What am I supposed to do, look this man in the eyes and say, “Oh, Mistress Denise did this to me when she was trying out a leather paddle?” or “Oh, I fell down the stairs with my backpack on…you know how clumsy I am!”

      If he thinks I’m lying to him, he will can my ass.  First he’ll shut down emotionally, and then he’ll leave.  

         Fuck me, man!  I needed the $500, but this is a serious problem! 

Cruisin for a Bruisin 


                    *                     *                                  *                                     *
Well, I did it.  And I must admit: the session, silly as it was, turned out to be pretty entertaining.  And the guy loved me! 

        I have to ask: exactly what the hell did they do to English children of the post-war generation?  Really?  What did they do?  Put them in burlap sacks and beat them after class?  Before class?  During class? Because I’ve met a lot of Englishmen of a certain age with complexes pertaining to corporal punishment in education.  The English has a reputation for being reserved and self-effacing, but I think that has to be bullshit–I’ve read too much George Orwell (“Such, Such Were the Joys”–read it and weep) and Charles Dickens.  Oliver Twist–one of the most hair-raising stories of child abuse ever put on paper?  Are you kidding me?  Beating the snot out of kids for their own good was like a national pastime.  I am not surprised those bastards took over the world and ran it for so long!  

       They have a weird sense of humor about it, too.  Try talking to an Englishman about being beaten up at school.  He’ll start laughing about it.  They think it’s funny. One friend of mine, an Indian who was educated in an English boarding school, would talk about wearing two pairs of uniform shorts when he reported to the headmaster to receive his disciplinary beatings.

       “Two pairs of shorts!  So it didn’t hurt so much!” then he’d laugh so hard that his eyes teared up.  “What a hoot!”


        (I am just picking on the English.  They’re not so bad.  You have to admit that the scenario is ripe with comedic potential.)

        So anyway…yesterday this Englishman comes into the Studio.  He was quite a character.  A short guy, tremendously friendly…I mean positively radiating good cheer.  At first I actually wondered if he might be a little drunk.  It was awesome.  I love it when clients are there to have fun.

         He was a barrister, which I guess is some kind of lawyer.  He had a very specific scenario in mind: he was going to be the headmaster of an all-girl boarding school at which I was a student.  He would call me into his office to tell me that I’d been caught plagiarizing work in my final exams.  He was revoking my scholarship and expelling me from school.

       He lectured me at length about why I was morally corrupted because of the permissive attitudes about child-rearing found in society today.  I was spoiled!  When he was a boy, young ladies and gentlemen had sound judgement and better character because they were disciplined!  When he was a boy, he knew better than to cheat on exams!  Look at how all this spoiling has ruined you, Miss Margo Adler!   

      (but wait!  There’s more!)

       “Look at you, running about in those tight blue jeans!  That is not a proper costume for a young lady at this academy!”

       “Please don’t throw me out!” I wailed.  “I’ll never do it again!  I promise!  I’ll do anything to stay at this school!”  

        Yeah, you can guess where this is going, haahahahaha.

        “Then you must take a correction, Miss Adler!” he roared.

          Too.  Much.  Fun.  Yes, I know it’s corny, but it was fun.  Fun!  When is the last time you had that much fun at work? 

          First he waled on me with a “slipper.”  A “slipper” is just what it sounds like–a shoe.  That was a first for me.  I’ve been beaten with a lot of different things before, but never with a shoe.

        It wasn’t that bad.  

       When it was over, I composed myself, smoothing my hair and pretending to wipe the snot off my face and dry my eyes.  Then it was time for Act 2: The incourrigible tart, Miss Adler, thinks that she dodged a bullet and tries to seduce the Headmaster! 

       Well, he was having none of that!  He was an upstanding fellow and a married man!  When he figured out what I was trying to do, he blew his stack.  

       Now it was time to really teach me a lesson.  
       I got the cane (what else?).  And I had to count (of course).  After it broke after stroke number 11, he switched to the tawse (naturally!).  

         Check this out…this is where the guy really took the cake…oh my God…

         At the end, he took out a wooden paddle and said, “This is out of respect for your American traditions!” 

        BWAAAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAA!  Hilarious!  I love it! 

        When it was over, he was so happy!  He gave me a hug and I brought him a beer.  We sat on the couch and chatted.  He really liked me, he said.  We had a great time.

     And he paid me $500 for that!  For something I would have probably done for free.  God, when the Biz is good, it’s very, very good. 

        But yeah, I definitely have bruises on my ass now.  A little welting from the cane, but it’s not bad.  The paddle was the worst.

      Still, though–the beating wasn’t that bad.  I’ve taken much, much harder.  Mel was routinely more violent.  And the Surgeon…well, we know how he was.  

        The Mathematician is going to see the marks tomorrow.  There’s no way I can cover them up.

          I really don’t want to lie to him…but I don’t know how he’s going to handle it.  I don’t want him to freak out.  How is a normal man going to respond to that.

        I’m going to tell him that we were training novice dommes at the Studio, and I was the demo bottom.  They were practicing spanking on me.

       It will be easier for him to take if he pictures other women doing it to me in a playful setting.  I’ll try to make it sound like it was innocent or maybe a little sexy.  Not a big deal (which it wasn’t!).

       Not a man.  I don’t want him picturing that.

      Is it bad to lie about that?  I don’t decide.  Do you think it’s wrong?

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