Spanking Gloves


The phone rings three times before it is answered.

“Bournemouth 448981.”

“Hello Mrs. Temple. It’s Charles Leyton here. How are you?” Charles realises as he hears himself speak that his voice sounds strained and oddly high pitched.

A brief pause, as if the receiver of the call is collecting her thoughts.

“Charles dear, how nice to hear from you. How are you getting on at college?” Mrs. Temple’s deep contralto is warm. Charles begins to feel slightly more at ease.

“Fine, thank you. That is, well, not exactly.”

“How do you mean Charles? There’s nothing wrong I hope.”

“Not really Mrs. Temple. Not in that sense. I mean I’m not in any trouble or anything.” Charles paused. He could feel his heart beating and his mouth was suddenly very dry.

“Charles, is anything the matter?”

“Well, the reason I’m ringing you is that it’s to do with my…my problem. The one that you helped me with last year. I’m afraid it has come back.”

“Ah. I see.” Charles waited expectantly. “In that case perhaps you had better come to see me. Would that be possible?

“Yes. Yes, Mrs. Temple. I’m coming back next weekend so I could see you then. I was thinking if you were free on Friday afternoon I could see you then. Only if it were convenient though.”

Charles hears a rustling of paper at the other end of the telephone as Mrs. Temple consults her diary. “I could set aside two hours to see you at 3.00pm Charles. Would that suit you?”

“Oh yes, that would be wonderful Mrs. Temple.”

“Three it is then. Goodbye Charles.”

"Goodbye Mrs. Temple. And thank you."



The dark door opens almost immediately.

“It’s good to see that you have not lost the courtesy of punctuality Charles. Come in. My study is on the left.”

Mrs. Helen Temple had been Charles’ governess for almost seven years. Her regime had been strict, some might say excessively so, and Charles had spent a considerable time across Mrs. Temple’s knee feeling the smart of her gloved hand and the sting of her punishment strap.

Charles had always been in thrall of his Governess and although no longer a callow youth, trembles slightly in her presence. Mrs. Temple is impeccably attired in a tight fitting black leather pencil skirt and bolero jacket, a high necked red latex blouse, seamed black nylons and her trademark five inch black patent stiletto heels. She wears heavy make-up: thick red lipstick, foundation, eyeliner and mascara. Dangling from her ears and complementing her steely grey hair are a pair of silver, hooped earrings. As Charles enters the study she reaches across and takes a file from her desk. Charles cannot help noticing that Mrs. Temple is wearing a pair of soft black leather gloves.

“Charles Leyton,” begins Helen, opening the file. “Yes, I last saw you eighteen months ago about your problem.” She smiled. “I thought I may have cured you at that time but it seems not. Is that correct?”

“I’m afraid so Madam”, replies Charles, tentatively. “It’s, well, I have found it difficult to….”

“To what Charles?”

“To control things Madam.” Charles looks pleadingly towards the older woman and then, his face redder than ever, casts his eyes down in shame.

“Indeed Charles. Well, we shall have to see about that won’t we?" Mrs. Temple pauses. "To say I am disappointed in you would be an understatement. I can see that we have more work to do.” Mrs. Temple pauses once more to allow her words to take effect. She is gratified to see that Charles has at least had the grace to blush. “Shall we begin? Remove your clothing young man and fold your things neatly on the sofa.”

Charles undresses completely and places his clothes on the sofa as instructed. Mrs. Temple notes with interest that he has grown a little and that his slim, still boyish body is still nicely tanned from a recent holiday.

“Stand upright boy. Hands by your sides.”

Mrs. Temple removes her jacket and comes towards him. Charles notices that her tight, red latex blouse is sleeveless and that the leather gloves she wears are full length, reaching almost to her shoulders. As Charles knows well, these are Mrs. Temple’s famous “spanking gloves”, black, beautiful and shiny, made from the finest glacé kid and responsible for turning many a bottom, including his own, from pure white to deepest crimson.

Mrs. Temple moves closer to him. In her stiletto heels she is three or four inches taller. As her face comes closer to his own Charles inhales the mix of expensive perfume, leather, rubber and cigarette smoke familiar from his childhood. Although 55 years old, Mrs. Temple is still devastatingly attractive. Her high cheekbones and full lips are accentuated by heavy make up, her bust and legs strain against tight latex and leather.

Mrs. Temple slowly reaches out a leather gloved hand and cups Charles’ balls in her palm, looking down at him. The young man's penis swells and stiffens at the touch of her gloves. Such a joy to play with a responsive boy, thinks Helen.

“My we are a naughty little boy, aren’t we?” Her voice is deep and full of amused menace. Charles feels his penis harden in his governess' palm. “Such a naughty boy.” Mrs. Temple runs a gloved finger along the hard shaft. He can feel her varnished nails through the leather, toying with his glans penis, making his cock even harder. “And what do naughty boys require Charles?”

“P-P-Punishment Madam.” Charles stutters, his mouth dry with arousal

“Yes, that’s right. Naughty boys require punishment don't they? Punishment and discipline. Strict discipline is the only way to teach a certain kind of boy isn’t it? A boy who does not do what he is told. A boy who is disobedient. A boy who cannot control his stiff little penis." Mrs. Temple squeezes his cock to emphasise her words. "I think a good spanking is required Charles. In fact I’m sure of it. I think you need to spend some more time across Madam’s leather skirt learning how to behave. Don’t you Charles?” As she is speaking Mrs. Temple continues to play with Charles' erect cock and balls, revelling in her complete dominion over him.

“Y-Y-Yes Madam. I think I need a good spanking.”

“Yes you do Master Leyton. So it’s just as well I’m wearing my spanking gloves isn’t it young man? It has obviously been too long since your bottom received a warming and you have forgotten what I taught you.”

For Charles the ecstasy induced by the touch of the soft black leather on his cock is almost unbearable. Now she moves her fingers to his nipples, both already rock hard. The feel of his governess' leather gloved fingers on his nipples is electric, sending shivers of pleasure through his cock. Mrs.Temple moves even closer to him as she speaks, brushing her latex covered breasts against his chest. Charles looks at Helen's thick red lips as she speaks, intoxicated by the sweet smell of her make-up and perfume. He glances at the swelling of his governess' full breasts, her own erect nipples pushing against the shiny latex, and then bows his head once more.

“You need to be taught obedience don’t you Charles? You need to be put across Madam’s knee and spanked until you learn how to behave properly.”

“Yes Madam. Yes I do need a spanking Madam.” Charles was almost weeping with his arousal. “Please spank me Madam. Please spank me, I beg you.”

Mrs. Temple lifts her fingers from Charles’ engorged nipples and smiles. “Ask properly for your spanking boy.”

Charles immediately falls to his knees and presses his eager lips to the shiny black leather of Mrs. Temple’s stiletto heeled shoes. He covers her exquisite shoes with hundreds of tiny kisses as he professes submission to his governess. He then raises himself from his devotions and, his large blue eyes looking into hers, begs for his punishment.

“Please Madam. Please put me across your leather skirt and spank me. I am a weak and disobedient boy and need your discipline.”

Mrs. Temple pauses for a moment, savouring once again the experience of seeing a virile young man kissing her shoes and pleading to be disciplined. Towering above Charles in her stiletto heels she looks down and smiles. What a pleasant afternoon it is going to be.

“Very well boy. I see that you have learned at least one lesson. You have understood that with appropriate guidance it is possible for a boy to learn to be obedient. And we both know what sort of guidance is required, don’t we Charles? Yes indeed we do. There is only one way to teach a boy like yourself how to behave. Only one method is effective, isn’t it child? The only reliable way to get through to that rather dense brain of yours is to warm your bottom, isn’t it boy?”

“Yes Madam.”

“Put on your spanking pouch boy. I do not want your fluids to soil my skirt.” After they reach a certain age Mrs. Temple insists that all of her charges wear a spanking pouch for over the knee discipline. This soft leather garment ensures a boy’s penis and testicles are encased and his emissions contained, while his buttocks remains nicely exposed for punishment.

Leaving Charles on his knees Mrs. Temple moves across to the chair, smooths her leather skirt beneath her and sits down. She admires herself in the large mirror opposite, primping her tightly coiffed hair and adjusting her red latex blouse, ensuring that she is comfortable for the spanking. She feels her own nipples through the rubber of her blouse. Mrs. Temple then spends a few moments smoothing her gorgeous black leather “spanking gloves” up her arms. As she does so she smiles, recalling the most enjoyable shopping trip in Paris when she acquired them. Three thousand five hundred francs from Maison Hortense if she was not mistaken, paid for by one of her former pupils, and worth every centime. The gloves feel wonderful and soft on her arms and so, so sexy.

Charles is by no means the only boy who finds it necessary to return to Helen Temple for “further tuition”. At least sixteen of her previous charges pay regular visits to their old governess. And all, without exception, return to place themselves across her knee. Charles has always been one of her favourites. Blond, clear skinned and slightly built, he is both naturally submissive and a very appreciative boy.

Helen looks across at Charles. He is still kneeling, his face red with shame but his penis standing proud and very erect. She smiles.

“Come here Charles. It’s time for your spanking.”

Charles rises and stands before his governess. Helen points to the floor and Charles kneels carefully before her.

“Kiss my high heels.” Charles obeys instantly.

“Kiss my skirt.” Again obedience without hesitation.

“Kiss my glove.” Charles presses his lips to the soft leather instrument of his correction.

“Now. Come here boy and bend over my knee.” Charles gently lowers himself across Helen’s leather skirt, allowing himself to be positioned to his governess’ satisfaction. The shiny black material is warm against the skin of his stomach and he can feel Helen’s garter clips through the leather. Helen presses Charles down so that his buttocks are nicely poised at spanking height, feeling the hardness of the boy's penis against her thigh. Once he is positioned, Helen begins to stroke the soft, white skin of Charles’ bottom cheeks with her gloved hand. Charles feasts his eyes on his governess’ shiny black five inch stiletto heels. Wickedly elegant court shoes that never fail to arouse deep sexual longing within him. Charles sighs and his whole body stiffens in anticipation of the pleasure and pain to come.

“I am now going to spank you Charles.” The voice authoritative with a hint of cruelty. “You are a very, very naughty boy. You have played with your penis when I expressly forbade you to do so. I am afraid when you disobey Madam you have to be punished and punished very severely. Do you understand boy?”

“Yes Madam.” Came the meek response.

“I am wearing my spanking gloves and you are going to receive half an hour across my knee. At the end of that period you will apologise to me for your disobedience and thank me for your discipline. Is that clear?”

“Yes Madam.”

“Good. If you wish to cry during your spanking you may do so. But do not squirm or fidget while I am spanking you. If you do I shall give you extra punishment."

“No Madam, I shall try not to move.”

“Very well child. You may look in the mirror while I punish you.”

Charles turns his head to look in the large mirror opposite. In it he can see his former governess, her shiny red lips creased in a cruel smile, luxuriating in the pleasure to come. Charles notices Helen’s nipples, high, hard and erect against the tight red latex of her blouse. He feels one hand on the back of his head and Absolute power, exercised with elegance. He looks at his own pale body draped compliantly across her leather skirt, completely at the mercy of his governess.

Helen takes a few minutes to admire herself. What other woman of 55, she thought, could keep a 21 year old man fully erect for two hours and have him obey her every command? Wearing high heels, leather and latex she feels completely and wonderfully dominant

Charles senses rather than sees Helen's leather palm fall to administer the first spank. He hears the sharp crack of leather on his skin and, a split second later, feels the wave of pain run through his bottom. He manages to resist making either a movement or uttering a sound. Helen begins to spank with a steady rhythm. Again and again her leather gloved hand falls on Charles' unprotected buttocks. Slowly the milk white flesh of the young man's bottom turns pink then a deeper and deeper shade of red. Finally, after ten minutes of spanking, Mrs. Temple elicits the required response from her charge. A muffled sob comes from the young man across her knee and the first tear begins to make its way down his cheek.

For those who have never experienced a proper spanking the punishment may seem rather mild. So it is compared to the cane or strap. However, when administered by an experienced disciplinarian a prolonged spanking is very, very painful. After ten minutes across her leather skirt Mrs. Temple's beautiful spanking gloves have transformed Charles' buttocks into twin globes of pure pain. The merest touch of her palm is now sufficient to cause discomfort.

But, while Charles may be crying from the pain, Mrs. Temple knows that this is not the only response she has elicited. The young man's penis remains hard and erect against her thigh confirming that her pupil is in the perfect state to learn from his discipline.

Helen rests her gloved hand against one red bottom cheek. Charles flinches and lets out a tiny gasp of fear. Helen's stockinged feet squirm with pleasure in her high heels. Now the real instruction can begin. She flexes her gloved hands like a concert pianist about to begin a virtuoso performance and once again admires herself in the mirror opposite.

"Now young man, I hope that this time you are going to learn your lesson properly. You know very well that if there is one thing that Madam will not tolerate, it is disobedience. And you, Master Leyton, have been extremely disobedient, haven't you?"

"Yes Madam. I'm sorry Madam."

"What did I expressly forbid you to do boy?"

"You told me not to play with myself Madam."

"And what did you do?"

"I played with myself Madam."

"Precisely. You played with yourself. You played with your penis didn't you? Like the naughty, disobedient boy you are. And that is why Madam has had to put on her spanking gloves and high heeled shoes and put you across her leather skirt for yet another spanking. Isn't it boy?"

"Yes Madam."

"Isn't it boy???" SPANK!

"Y-Y-Yes Madam."


will SPANK!

not SPANK!

tolerate SPANK!

disobedience!" SPANK!

"Do you understand?!"

"Yes Madam." This very meekly between sobs.

"I said, do you understand?!!" SPANK! SPANK!

"Yes Madam. I do understand. I will learn my lesson this time. Please Madam I will be obedient."

"I do hope so Master Leyton." The stern voice is heavy with authority. "I do hope so. Because if you persist in your disobedience I shall continue to spank you until you learn. I do not mind how long it takes or how sore your bottom becomes. I shall spank you until you obey. Do I make myself clear boy?"

"Perfectly Madam. I am so sorry for being naughty."

Helen can feel Charles' erection stiff against her thigh a she speaks. The boy is very aroused now, as is she. Helen's nipples rub against the latex of her blouse sending shivers of pleasure through her body.


The rhythmic spanking begins again. This time Charles' bottom is already aflame with pain. Each crisp crack of Madam's black leather spanking gloves on his bottom sends a wave of excruciating agony through him but ends in a surge of sexual pleasure. Charles can feel the leather pouch enclosing his erection is slick with pre-cum. He looks down lovingly once more at his governess' elegant stiletto heels as her gloved hand continues to do its work.


As Helen's glove falls she can feel the young man's penis begin to spasm in time with her spanking. She is about to enjoy spanking young Charles to orgasm.

"Look at my high heels as you climax boy!" As if he needs to be told.

SPANK! mmmmm SPANK! mmmmmmmm SPANK! nnnnggggghhhhhh

SPANK! aaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Charles' cock pulsates as huge spurts of semen flood from him. Waves of pleasure course through him, untempered by his extremely painful bottom. For Charles no orgasm is as powerful or as fulfilling as those he enjoys across Mrs. Temple's knee.

"You may thank me for your discipline." Helen's voice is icy cold.

Charles gently removes himself from the older woman's lap.

"Kiss my high heels." Charles complies willingly. This time Helen allows him several minutes of devotion at the altar of her stilettos. She notices with amusement that his bottom is very, very red.

"Kiss my skirt." Again instant obedience.

"Kiss my glove." This time Charles kisses the instrument of his correction with genuine reverence. He inhales the sweet smell of the shiny black leather glove, the palm still warm from his spanking.

He then bows his head. "Thank you for my discipline Madam. I promise to be obedient."

There is a short pause. Helen smiles. Having enjoyed a wonderful spanking she is wet with pleasure and arousal. It is time for young Master Charles to show his gratitude with more than words.

"Follow me boy. I hope you have not worn out your lips and tongue with your devotion to my high heels."

And they depart for Madam's bedroom.