Years ago Dr Edmundo Master was captured by the evil AC and forced to watch over a room full of nymphs and trolls at play, he under took his duties diligently, befriending each of them with his gentle mocking until he became universally loved and affectionately known as ‘Uncle Sloth’.

However Edmundo Master had a secret. When AC and the operators were all asleep he would he would silently creep from the room, leaving the nymphs at play and through a door known only to him, he would enter the room called ‘the school room’. Here he would amuse himself by sitting at the elevated teacher’s desk, looking out at the rows of empty pupils’ desks, and writing articles for a publication called ‘Forum’.

Once upon a time when Edmundo had had a particular tiring day in the chat room, and was reluctant to return to jumping scrolls and unregistered users he wandered around the school room taking in the scents from his long distant childhood and lovingly fingering the artifacts. Never before had he never noticed that the birch rods were sitting in fresh water. One particular rod caught his eye, it was so smooth and the colour was so rich that he had to take if from the pot. An experiment swish showed him its perfect balance. From the pocket of his tweed jacket he took out a clean handkerchief and rubbed the last drops of water from the rod.

He did not notice the subtle changes in the classroom as he rubbed, the way the dust was gone, the signs of recent use, or even the appearance of the punishment book on his desk. But what he did notice was a set of running footsteps echoing in the corridor, with the cry of “I’m late, I’m late for granting the Master’s wishes”.

Neither could he fail to notice the door fly open and the girl run in and skid to a stop before him. Flustered she smoothed her skirt down, and stammered out an apology for her tardiness.

Ed Master looked slowly over the school girl standing before him. Her uniform just tight enough and just short enough to emphasize her femininity, the crossed tawse and cane emblazoned on her blazer declaring her to be a pupil of Slothlands Academy. Her hands went behind her back, and her head bowed as he left her standing there, and with the rod still in his hand he returned his desk.

“Name?”

“Jeanie Birch, Sir”

Ed Master flicked through the punishment book on his desk and found hers was the only name mentioned in it. Looking up at her again he demanded an explanation for her tardiness and slovenly dress; why her tie was not falling quite straight and one of her socks was half fallen down.

He motioned her to the pupil’s desk with the finger blocks hooked over two of the corners and told her to assume her usual position. Her fingers slipped into place, she knew what to do. Her body slanting downward over the desk, her arse already forming an inviting target. It became an even more inviting target as Ed Master came down to her, and lifted her skirt up revealing her white knickers. It became a completely irresistible target as he pulled her knickers down enough to leave the smooth rounds of her yet unmarked pale arse exposed.

Ed whispered into Jeanie’s ear, “a baker’s dozen”, stood back, and the rod swished through the air for the first time. As Jeanie’s yelp caressed his ears he his eyes drank in the sight of the single red line.

A second swish and her sobs formed a continuo to be marked out by the swish of the rod through the air, the thud of the impact and her cry of pain. Each placement of the rod precise, Ed a Master of this craft, the welts forming an exquisite pattern on his favourite type of canvas.

The twelfth strike and Ed sighed as he savoured and lifted the rod for the final time. Standing just a little bit further back, he cut into her tender flesh. As her scream faded he leant forwards and whispered into her ear once more ‘now go and stand in the corner, as I consider which three wishes I would like you to grant me…….’