Ms. Harriet Marwood

Professional Disciplinarian and Spankologist

New York City


About Ms. Marwood





Contact Details


To all my loyal supporters:

Even though I spend a lot of time correcting the naughty habits of you boys, I realize that you have a lot of time on your hands in between our visits.  Perhaps, if I tell you some stories, it will keep your minds occupied enough to resist getting into further mischief for a little while!


Keep dropping by this page to see new stories as I add them. And feel free to submit your own fables of fantasy for my consideration. Please, nothing longer than two pages.

And now:

Once upon a time...

School Daze


Be Careful What You Wish For






For all my loyal readers, here's a "true" spanking tale written by TJ, a friend of mine.  It is solely the fantasy of TJ and it should not be assumed that Ms Marwood has ever or would ever participate in all of the activities depicted in the stories of others.

That said, enjoy!


"Oh, Thomas...!!". 

You jump guiltily. 'How many times have I warned you about your drinking and driving and flirting with other women?'

'Umm...' You try to stall, but she continues without an answer.

'And what did I tell you would happen the next time I caught you looking at women while drinking and flirting?' Her fists are balled on her hips, her brown eyes flashing fire. SLAP! I asked you a question! You wanted a disciplinarian, you got it!!!

'Um, you, uh...' You flush with embarrassment as her eyes bore through you. 'You said I'd get a spanking,' you finish quickly, staring at the floor, your face burning and possibly get a mouth soaping.

SLAP!! Possibly some anal humiliation. 'That's right, young man, and that's exactly what is going to happen. But first you are going to get a very sound spanking on your naughty, bare bottom.  I think 30 minutes with my hand and leather paddle or brush should do it...just for starters!!!!!!  I promise you won't forget this spanking for quite sometime.'

Your eyes are beginning to sting with tears of humiliation as she scolds you and starts to squeeze your nipples. 'Get your naughty bottom into the corner, young man.' You move slowly to obey her command, feeling childish and humiliated. 'Now, you will have exactly 5 minutes to stand in that corner like a naughty boy and think about how you've behaved.'

You hear her footsteps move away and you sigh, staring at the paint in front of your nose, your bottom twitching in anticipation of MIss Hamilton's wicked hand and brush. The seconds crawl past, by the time the 5 is finally up, a swarm of butterflies has taken up residence in your tummy.

You hear Miss Hamilton's footsteps approach.

'Come here, Pet.' Biting your lip, you slowly turn and approach the straight-backed chair on which Miss Hamilton  is sitting. She grabs your  ear as she brushes her long brown away from her face, and fixes you with a cold stare that chills you to the core. 'You should be ashamed of yourself, Thomas'

'Yes, ma'am,' you murmur. You lower your eyes and spy the brush and leather paddle next to her lap and folded hands. Your pulse quickens and your mouth feels dry. 'A 48 year-old man and you're about to go over my knee and get your bare bottom spanked like a five-year-old. Its shameful, Thomas, that you still make it necessary to punish you this way.'

'Please...' you whisper, pleading, clenching your buttocks in dread anticipation.

'Quiet,' she orders. 'Come here.' You take another halting step forward, bringing yourself to within a few inches of her lap. She reaches out and quickly unbuttons your pants and lowers your fly. Then she tugs your pants down to your ankles. You close your eyes in hopeless embarrassment as you feel her fingers in the waistband of your briefs. 

In a breath, they too are bundled at your ankles, and you feel goosebumps prickle across your bared backside. 'Chilly?'  Miss Hamilton inquires, taking you by the wrist. 'We can take care of that in no time,'
she says as she pulls you forward. You lose your balance and fall across her thighs.

She slips one leg out from under you and places it firmly over the backs of your legs. Then she pushes your head down until your bottom is upthrust prominently over her left thigh.

'I have told you time and again, if I caught you drinking and flirting again I would spank your bare bottom until you cry like a baby. Since you obviously can't act like an adult, I think its appropriate, don't you?'

'Yes, ma'am,' you say softly, trying to keep the whimper out of your voice.

 'I'm glad you agree,' she says matter-of-factly, and without warning, you hear a loud slap and feel a sharp sting on your right bottom cheek.  'OW!' you yelp in surprise, caught off guard by the sudden spank. A second swat quickly follows, lighting a new fire on your left cheek. You fight to remain stoic, but as the blazing spanks rain down on your defenseless bottom, you are soon grunting and squirming. 

You are sure you look ridiculous, face down, your red bottom wiggling about in the air, but you can't help it as you look across at yourself in the mirror. You kick and writhe, but your bottom is trapped firmly in place. As the sting and burn becomes unbearable, you are overwhelmed by the pain, and the humiliation, and the helplessness, and hot tears spill down your face.

For a moment, the assault on your tender bottom ceases, and you gasp, trying to fight down the tears that are still wetting the carpet.  But then you hear her pick up another instrument that begins smacking against your bottom and you howl as searing pain envelopes your aching backside.

As you reach back, desperately trying to block the blows, you feel your wrist being pulled up and pinned in the small of your back. You struggle helplessly against th e restraints, but the spanking continues endlessly.
You hear your desperate cries and pleas melt into incoherent crying, and you let your body go limp, accepting the blazing punishment.

 Finally, the spanking ends. As you feel the grip on your wrist loosen, your hand flies back to rub your flaming rear. As, Miss Hamilton, the disciplinarian, pulls you to your feet, you dance about, rubbing your bottom vigorously with both hands. She turns you around and gives you another 10 whacks. Did I say you could rub your bottom?  Miss Hamilton watches you for a moment as you stumble about, hobbled by your pants which are now hopelessly tangled about your feet.

'Ok, that's enough,' she says finally, taking you by the upper arm and leading you back to the corner. 'Keep your hands at your sides.
Unless you want another taste of the brush.' Maybe I should clean your mouth out?

You stand contemplating the corner once more, sniffling, your bottom burning, stinging and smarting. Even as you are promising yourself never to earn another spanking for the rest of your life, you have a sinking feeling that none-too-soon you will find yourself right back in this corner, bottom burning, tears running down your cheeks.

You know deep down that it won't be very long until you are making yourself those promises once more...

 Then you hear her get up and fumble for something in the drawer.  You then realize your punishment is far from over.



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