From the Top Shelf - Humiliating Memories

This is a letter that was published in Janus magazine in the late 1980s, written by 'Mrs. V.H.' Whether any of this is remotely true I will leave to your judgment, but the letter presses a lot of my buttons and, I hope, yours too!

Many of your letters talk about the humiliation involved in corporal punishment. It is the embarrassment and total humiliation that has always been, for me, the most exciting part, particularly with regard to undressing in front of men.

I was educated in the West Country at a private school which was one of the strictest in the county. All parents were told before they agreed to send their daughters to the school that corporal punishment was used, unsparingly, on the girls as well as the boys.

Whilst I always dreaded the thought of an actual caning, the idea of bending over and having to display my knickers for a master or mistress to cane was deeply sexually exciting...

Midway through my sixth year a rather weak master left the school and was replaced by a much stricter man who literally exuded authority. During the previous six months we had taken advantage of our former teacher's weak discipline and had got used to turning up late, talking in class and so on. The new master immediately set about stopping this by saying that he would use the cane on anyone who continued to misbehave. To reinforce his threat, he said the first person to fall foul of the new regime would be caned in front of the whole class.

I found the thought just too much. My heart began to pound and I felt both very frightened and very excited. I started to convince myself to misbehave so I would be the first person to be publicly caned.

At the next lesson I turned up late, chewed gum, paid little attention to him and chucked paper pellets across the room. He warned me twice and I nearly chickened out. However one more paper pellet was enough and he was down the classroom in seconds to grab me by my hair and haul me to the front.

He said he was amazed after all his warnings that I had carried on like this and even more astonished that the first candidate for his cane was a girl. He told the class that this made no difference and that he was a man of his word. He also said he was sure I would regret my actions and hoped that caning me in front of the whole class would be an object lesson to everyone else.

He then went to the cupboard and took out a long, thin cane which he hung on the blackboard. He pushed his table back towards the front wall and told me to bend over it, reaching right across it to hold on to the far side, which meant that my bottom was thrust up facing the class.

I didn't know then which emotion was more powerful, my fear of the cane, or my excitement at displaying my bottom in front of a mixed class of about thirty pupils.

However, worse was to come, because he gripped the hem of my skirt to raise it and found it was too tight. I was then told to stand up again and take it off - in front of the class including a bunch of goggle-eyed boys. I only had thin knickers on and I thought this was going too far. But I had asked for this and now it was too late to regret my actions. I unzipped my skirt, pushed it down my legs and stepped out of it. I then had to bend right over again with my wafer thin knickers barely covering my bottom. Because I was leaning over so far my legs were slightly apart and I was tremendously excited about showing nearly everything to the whole class.

He then told the class I was to receive six strokes. The first stroke seemed ages in coming and certainly knocked the wind out of me and made me wonder why I had got myself into this. Each stroke produced a frightening noise as the cane cracked into my thin knickers and the pain soon killed all my excitement, but sometimes I recall the experience now and it still makes me very excited.

I was always a difficult child and soon became known as a troublemaker who regularly misbehaved and once I was caught playing truant when in the sixth form. I was sent to the Headmaster, the first time I had experienced being sent to his study, and while I stood trembling in front of him, he telephoned my father and they had a long conversation. I could hear my father's voice at the other end and he sounded so furious, I was frightened of going home. At the end of the conversation, the Head looked at me and told me my father had agreed that a severe dose of the cane would certainly be in order. He paused, looked hard at me, and then told me that my father had told him not to hesitate if he believed that a bare bottom caning was in order.

I must have turned bright scarlet as the Headmaster told me to take off my skirt, tights and knickers but, unexpectedly I had a rush of sexual excitement at being told to take off my knickers in front of a man.

I took my skirt off first, making sure that my striptease was not too quick. I took off my tights next, peeling them slowly down each leg as he watched, and walked across his study to put them on his visitors' chair. Then I deliberately faced him and took down my knickers, stepped out of them and again walked to his chair. This was the first time any man had seen me without any knickers on and I felt myself becoming embarrassingly wet down there...

He ordered me to bend over the back of the high leather visitors' chair and grip the wooden front legs, which I proceeded to do. The leather felt cold and I bent over as far as I could, which meant my bottom was as high in the air as it could be, and I felt extremely vulnerable. However the thought of my Headmaster looking at my bare bottom and everything else I was showing was simply fantastic!

During all this he had remained seated at his desk but he then stood up, fetched his cane and stood to one side of me. I was asked to relax my bottom slightly by pushing my legs a little further back so they were less upright.

He told me I was to get six very hard strokes, as my father had insisted, and I heard the whistle of the cane before it struck the centre of my bottom, very hard. The pain was almost intolerable but after the second or third stroke it became bearable as I was aware of other exciting reactions happening to my body. After the sixth stroke he told me to stand up and face his desk.

He then gave me a long lecture about my behaviour and that he was always prepared to repeat the caning should I need it. During this lecture I was standing directly in front of him with just a blouse on and my pubic hair on show. I again started to feel very sexually aroused because of the humiliating posture and despite - or perhaps partly because of - the surging, burning pain across the whole area of my bottom.

I was then told to dress which I did slowly, giving him a full view of my bottom and my pussy whenever I could.

The embarrassment of being caned at school, and all the exciting sensations that went with it, remains a wonderful sexual stimulus for me. Whenever I make love to my husband, the thoughts of those school canings always make my sexual responses even more satisfying.

True or not, it makes an exciting story.