I met Miss Kendal for the first time in London in July. For some time, I’ve had a keen curiosity to meet with her as she shares a very strong resemblance to a teacher I knew at my secondary school in 1977.

 

The Miss Kendal of 1977 had truthfully, but mistakenly identified me to the then headmaster as the culprit that severely vandalised a classroom. My father received a bill for the damage with a letter requesting consent to extensively cane me on the bare bottom at the forthcoming school assembly. Fortunately, my father knew it wasn’t in my character to commit vandalism and it was realised there was an identity mix up. For me, I had to be patient and receive my long desired CP from Miss Kendal as I’d asked of her this July in London!

 

On meeting Miss Kendal for the first time in London, I realised how closely she resembled my teacher of 1977. As well as the physical and temperamental resemblance, I felt a serenity and calm exuding from Miss Kendal that told me she could contain and support me with this long held endeavour.

 

At the premises with Miss Kendal, after a brief chat out of role play I was summoned to wait outside her study until she told me to enter. On entering, she looked directly into me with her piercing knowing eyes. Impertinently, I also looked right back into her eyes and held my gaze. She told me of the damage that had been done to the classroom and inquired if I knew anything about it. Naturally, I said no. Miss Kendal told me she had ways to ‘persuade’ me to divulge information. She told me to disrobe telling me to put myself across her lap. Unwisely, I undressed to my pants and she gave me a steely look saying ‘remove them’. By this time, I was enjoying the role and telling Miss Kendal she had made a mistake and she was punishing the wrong boy. Miss Kendal sure can deliver a hefty hand spanking that had me flinching! On finishing the spanking, she told me to stand in the corner facing the wall with my hands on my head to reflect on our next conversation. Miss Kendal left the room for a few minutes.

 

On her return, Miss Kendal told me to turn round and take my hands off my head. Again, she asked what I knew about the classroom damage. Again, I said I knew nothing. She looked at me in a disappointing way telling me to go to the school desk and bend over it. For a minute or so, she let me reflect on what was coming whilst she chose a paddle. She gave me 12 hard slow blows whilst I counted and thanked her for each one followed by a further swift 12 blows. Whilst still gripping the desk, Miss Kendal selected another paddle delivering a further even harder 12 slow blows and a flurry of another 12!! The slipper also followed in the same stinging order! Miss Kendal told me to stand up and turn round to face her reminding me not to rub my bottom. Again, she asked me what did I know. I said, ‘nothing, Miss’. I said too that, ‘you’ve got the wrong boy. I’m going to tell my dad and he’ll sue you and the school. I’ve got human rights’. Miss Kendal simply replied, ‘I’m going to thrash you’.

 

When I’m enjoying a session, I like to resist and antagonise. I knew in this moment that I’d met my nemesis in Miss Kendal. She told me curtly to follow her into the punishment room. By the door was a punishment bench, she allowed me to drink some water and gestured with her eyes for me to mount it. For me, this moment was the epoch of what I’d desired in 1977 when I saw the other boy receiving a hard caning on his bare bottom at the school assembly with 200 boys looking on. I willingly mounted the bench visualising that scene from 1977. Miss Kendal slowly and carefully bound my wrists, thighs, calves and my torso with the 5 restraint straps to the leather bench. It was sinking in how naked I felt especially with my bottom protruding and awaiting for Miss Kendal to do her worse (or best) to it. In front of me was a mirror so I could enjoy this delicious anticipation. Miss Kendal put a cane in front of me on the floor telling me I was going to get better acquainted with it. She went back to her study for a few minutes and returned to collect the cane. She said it was a junior dragon cane reminding me ‘I’m going to thrash you and it’s only going to get worse for you’. She walked behind me. I heard the swish of the cane cutting the air. There was a tap, tap on my bottom followed by 12 slow but hard blows whereby I counted and thanked Miss Kendal together with a further 12 speedy wincing blows that had me straining against the straps! Miss Kendal asked again what did I know about the classroom damage. I admitted to damaging the classroom. I’d said as I’d now admitted to the damage I asked if I could be released from the punishment. I said I must be taking after my dad as he works for a demolition company. Oh dear. What a mistake. Now I’d really antagonised Miss Kendal. She firmly told me that ‘lying is not acceptable’ and I’m to be thrashed for the vandalism and lying too. She allowed me to drink some water, then placed a length of bound twigs on the floor in front of me. It was the birch!! Now I remember saying in my email role play I’d like to try it. She left the room for a few minutes allowing me to savour what was to come.

 

On her return, Miss Kendal collected the birch holding it in front of my face telling me that I thoroughly deserved this punishment. By now, my bottom was cooling from the last onslaught. She stepped behind me and tap tapped the birch against my anticipating bottom. I could see her swinging it in that mirror. By the time, Miss Kendal had finished there wasn’t a single patch on my bottom that hadn’t been thrashed! It was ecstasy and agony watching Miss Kendal swish that birch onto my bottom. I’d waited for over 40 years for this and I was loving it. By now, I’d gone beyond sub space and was in orbit. Tantalising, agonising and yet ecstatic. My bottom felt red hot, but somehow immune to the blows it was taking too.

 

Miss Kendal reminded me again of the seriousness of the vandalism, impertinence and lying. She told me that she wasn’t going to stop the punishment until she heard true remorse and atonement for my transgressions. I attempted a pathetic attempt saying I was sorry, but I’d also desired this extensive thrashing for over 40 years. I wasn’t in a real hurry to atone just yet. Miss Kendal laid on a further 24 slow and fast strokes each from the strap and the senior dragon cane. The last 5 strokes of the dragon cane brought me to a place where I felt it was time to be remorseful. Miss Kendal gave me some water asking me to speak. I said I was sorry for causing the damage, being cheeky and lying to her. I’d offered to pay for the damage with pocket money instalments! Miss Kendal said I was displaying a better attitude, but should I fail her again I’d be right back on that bench again!

 

As a final instalment of the punishment, Miss Kendal fetched the reformatory cane again placing it on the floor in front of me. It seemed as thick as a broom handle! By now, I was still in orbit and can’t remember if I took slow and fast blows from that cane. I’m sure I took another 24 blows. Each stroke felt like a combination of all the strokes I’d received in the session. Each stroke seemed to have me straining against the straps of the bench. I cried out in pain at times, but I’d truly atoned for my transgressions.

 

After the 24th stroke, Miss Kendal untied the straps and slowly and carefully tended and helped me to my feet and orientate myself back to 2018! My bottom felt like it was lined with corrugated horizontal lines and welts, but what a glorious tantalising reminder of what I desired in 1977 and finally received in 2018!

 

I also see a regular Domme, but Miss Kendal is sublime in her art, demeanour and her skills in comparison. Miss Kendal projects a serenity and peace that supported me through this cathartic time. I thoroughly enjoyed my time and have definitely atoned for my transgressions. I’ll happily lie across that bench when you’re ready to see me Miss Kendal!