After visiting Miss Kendal, whom I address as Ma’am, for about a year I foolishly decided to end our sessions because I thought I could dictate how my punishments were administered. It did not take me very long to realise what a stupid error I had made! I no longer had a true disciplinarian to visit, one who made me fear the punishment to come simply by the manner that She greets me at Her door. The uncompromising order to go upstairs, strip and be waiting in the corner, hands on head causes me to quickly realise there is no turning back!
So, I wrote an email apologising for my stupid mistake and begged to be taken back so that my errors might be properly corrected. I was genuinely grateful when Ma’am said She would see me again on the understanding my slate be wiped clean with some serious punishment. I accepted without a second thought. A sound hair brushing from cold had me whimpering almost from the off and though I have never shed tears from a spanking I fear that Ma’am & Her hairbrush might hold the key !! By the time the hairbrush came to a conclusion I was kicking and crossing my legs like a naughty little boy. I was now to be caned with no counting just a long series of strokes completed to the satisfaction of Ma’am. A paddling from a thick hide paddle, buffalo was it? My mind was elsewhere by now and I am not sure what it was made from? The final stage was punctuated by time-out, hands on head standing in front of the vaulting horse whilst I waited for another good hairbrush spanking leg locked over Ma’am’s knee.
Ma’am gave me an exquisite hand spanking warm down, which I adored but hardly deserved. I cannot wait to return, my slate is cleaner but not clean yet and my cold bottom has many more dates with Miss Kendal’s hairbrush !!
While there are, of course, many sources for and types of scenario, one which is I think enormously significant to us and will resonate in a very special way is that which connects up almost magically with something in our own past. And I want to put down just how good Miss Kendal is at helping us to do this.
Recently, she had a visit from a schoolboy whose report was so bad as to be ludicrous. At every subject he was bottom of the class and had been idling away his time. While it was inspired by a single disappointing one I really did get one term in the 1960s, it was far worse than I would ever have dared to earn in real life. I was sent to await her in the gym – she had noticed that PE was not dealt with in the report and felt this needed some attention. And in the course of the discussion of my conduct I admitted that although I had made little effort on the sports field, there was one sport I liked.
From an almost casual remark I made which Miss Kendal seized upon, we built up the most amazing scenario. I became the boy whose talent for a single sport was wasted because of a reluctance to practise, and who certainly did not think it necessary to give attention to academic work. In the real world I had had no talent for this sport anyway, just a deep enthusiasm, and a voluminous knowledge of the statistics – if enthusiasm had been enough I would have played for England, never mind the school. But today, after fifty years, my relationship with it was transformed. And Miss Kendal achieved this transformation despite herself having minimal knowledge of the game – just through a sensitivity to what would excite her playmate!
I’m sure others who have met her will have had similar experiences, but if anyone is doubtful whether to contact Miss Kendal I really cannot recommend her highly enough!
It’s not the room its the person.
On Tuesday i had an appointment with Miss Kendal at her new premises, and it is fair to say that i was far more nervous than i have been since i first met her many months ago.
This was not because of what i was about to be subjected to, i had a good idea about what that would be, and knew it would be painful and leave me wearing evidence of my visit for some days ahead, but that is exactly why i visit Miss Kendal. It was all about the ‘Room’! The room was Miss Kendal’s play space at her former premises. The room was a plainly decorated sparsely furnished, 12’x12’ room with a plain carpet, two doors, and a window , fairly innocuous as rooms go, but it was the room where i discovered myself, and where on a regular basis i had been transported to the most incredible place in the world, in an earlier testimonial I referred to it as my Narnia!
I had known for some months of Miss Kendal’s impending move and i had battled with the fear that without the room I wouldn’t achieve subspace and that special place would be lost, the dynamics changed, and my new found life lost or at least altered in some detrimental way. Our last session in the old play space had been one of the most intense and incredible we had experienced, and i had convinced myself the room didn’t matter, but when i awoke Tuesday morning the doubt was there again, it had returned to haunt me, my newly found life was hanging over a precipice!
I sent my confirmation text first thing as i always do, and received the polite and succinct response as usual. Unusually for me the session was not until early evening, i normally like to session in the morning, so i had all day to wait. I went about my business the best i could but always in my mind was my fear that the new space would not be quite right. Eventually it was time for me to prepare and set off, i showered and set off West, the new post code in my sat nav, it was one of the longest journeys of my life, even though it was actually 10 minutes quicker than my previous journey. I drove down the street and looked over the new address, it seemed ok, nothing really to strike fear into my soul, but still it was there, my stomach was churning, it hadn’t done that at a visit to Miss Kendal’s for a long time. At exactly the prescribed time i walked up to the front door and rang the bell, i felt like a little school boy on his first visit to the head teacher, i felt small and vulnerable, uncertain and scared! The door opened and Miss Kendal greeted me with a pleasant smile and showed me straight upstairs, we chatted briefly but i suspect Miss Kendal realised i was not as comfortable as i had become and we agreed she would leave and let me prepare by disrobing and taking a few minutes to get the feeling of the new surroundings. Miss Kendal seems to have this knack of reading me like a book and clearly knew i was unusually nervous!
I stood in the centre of the room, naked, vulnerable, with my hands on my head. I closed my eyes, my stomach churned again, i was scared, but only from a fear that i had lost something special. I opened my eyes and took in the room, it was a plainly decorated sparsely furnished, 12’x12’ room with a plain carpet, two doors, and a window , fairly innocuous as rooms go! Seems familiar, I actually felt a smile trying to rise, i heard movement outside, the door opened and Miss Kendal entered, an air of strength and power, i fought back my smile, i was becoming less scared and ever more comfortable, even though i knew i was about to be subjected to something extremely painful and uncomfortable, i could sense things hadn’t changed and it was going to be good!
Miss Kendal paced around the room, talking slowly, softly and clearly, telling me what she was going to do to me, and how i was going to behave, and that if i was a good boy and took my beating well my reward would be 12 strokes from her senior cane. I was almost in heaven and Miss Kendal hadn’t even raised a finger to me!
The session proved yet again to be one of the most incredible yet, i am always constantly amazed that Miss Kendal is able to raise the bar each time, and introduce my to new implements and new techniques, always adding variety and excitement to the session. How many different ways can there be to hit someone? An infinite number it seems! The session started with a hand spanking over Miss Kendal’s knee, where i was also introduced to her new silicone spatula, i was then ordered over the back of the chair for more of the same, i was already starting to feel pushed, and yet knew there was much more to come. I was then sent to the corner for a period of reflection, then it was over the horse for the slipper and leather paddle. This time i was given one hard stroke and then had to count slowly to ten after which i would be subjected to a full force flurry of indeterminate strokes, only for the same thing to be repeated again and again. My first few one to tens were slow and deliberately so as i prepared myself for the upcoming volley, but i was soon well on my way to subspace and my counting quickened as i craved the next painful beating, i needed release and with each beating i was nearer and nearer. The need to count stopped and Miss Kendal just starting beating me with all of her force, it was simply amazing i was now completely oblivious to my surroundings and i was in euphoria, it was truly brilliant, every stroke of the paddle was relished and enjoyed, i wanted more, and was pleading for it to continue. Miss Kendal happily obliged.
Eventually it stopped, i came back to the ‘Room’ and new room but non the less the ‘Room’, i had obviously been a good boy as Miss Kendal told me i had earned my reward of 12 strokes of her Senior cane, in fact i must have been a very good boy as Miss Kendal rewarded me with 24 strokes! I was back in subspace, my Narnia, almost immediately!
My fears had all been unfounded i can honestly say “its not the room its the person” and for me that person is without doubt Miss Kendal!
I cannot say it enough but a massive Thank You Miss Kendal for helping me find myself and the real me!
My continuing journey under Miss Kendal, by SB
Last week my journey under Miss Kendal took another major leap into the unknown.
I have been a regular client of Miss Kendal’s since she began her professional career, and in that time I have grown to find the real me which had been my hidden for over 50 years, my secret that I sometimes daren’t even admit to myself. But here goes…….
My name is Simon, I am 57 years old, I am married, I am a respectable business man, and I have a secret: I am a submissive, and I am a masochist! It may seem weird to many but I am at my happiest and most content when I am stripped naked, bent over and being beaten by Miss Kendal in her play room!
Over the months since we first met Miss Kendal had introduced me to new and exciting techniques and implements, my stamina and strength have grown stronger, I have found I can take ever increasing levels of punishments and I am enjoying the experience, but all of this has been slightly hindered by me not wanting to be left with long lasting or distinctive marks. Miss Kendal has shown her true professionalism and skill in increasing the intensity of my punishments but keeping any marking to a minimum, she has also shown similar professionalism in restraint as in the heat and intensity of a session I beg her to beat me harder and harder still, but my original limits have always been respected. My limits also held a restriction to one of my real desires as well, i have a penchant for the cane. The cane is so English, so institutional, I love the look of it, particularly in Miss Kendal’s hands as she flexes it menacingly, I love the sound of it as it swishes through the air, warning of the pain and heat that are about to come, I love the feel of it, no other implement creates such a unique and excruciating feeling of pain, and finally i love the end result, there is nothing more beautiful than the distinctive lines across the bottom after a well administered caning, and there lay my problem, not only is it a beautiful sight it is also very obvious the result of a caning. Miss Kendal had obliged my love of the cane with small inclusions following a heavy hand spanking warm up, and followed by leather paddling to conceal the obvious evidence, but in truth this only increased my desire for a proper and well administered caning which I knew Miss Kendal could give. A couple of sessions ago Miss Kendal had the devil in her and had given me my first cold caning, just 12 strokes, no warm up, and it was delightful, but this canvas of delight was then covered with a sound paddling.
I wanted more, I was now becoming increasingly desperate for the caning of my life, and I considered what my real fears were, and in truth they were unfounded, in 18 months I had successfully managed to conceal any evidence of my punishments, and so why should concealing a caning be any different? I therefore took the first step by explaining to Miss Kendal in my confirmation email that I was happy for her to push my limits further and that although I drew short of broken skin I was no longer concerned about marking. The anticipation and build up over the week became immense and with it grew fear and excitement. When I arrived for my appointment Miss Kendal and I chatted naturally and exchanged news, and then I was asked whether I was sure I was happy to be marked, and when I confirmed this I was sent up to the playroom to disrobe and stand in the centre of the room with my hands on my head.
I stood waiting, naked and vulnerable, hands on my head, fear and excitement in equal measures, terror was now building, I knew the cane hurt terribly from the tasters I had already received, but I was about to be subjected to a thorough and prolonged caning, the caning I so desperately needed. I listened intently for Miss Kendal to come, eventually I heard a step on the stairs and then the door opened and Miss Kendal entered, looking even more powerful and strong, she sat on the sofa and slowly and calmly told me what I needed, and what she was going to do to me, she was going to beat me, and hurt me, beat me until I wanted it to stop and then beat me some more. I needed the pain desperately, I needed it to hurt me, and hurt me a lot, as I know that is when I achieve sub space, and that was what I wanted and needed more desperately than I could imagine. I had dreamt of this moment since the very first meeting with Miss Kendal, in fact I had dreamt of this moment for nearly 50 years, and it was about to become reality, I was about to be caned and caned very hard.
To my surprise Miss Kendal then made me kneel in front of her and hold out my arms straight in front of me with my palms turned upwards, she then selected a leather strap and proceeded to strap each hand in turn. This was amazing, I felt so vulnerable and so submissive, I wanted to pull my hands away but also needed to see the strap lash down and feel the pain build in each hand, through the pain my desperation for the cane grew. With throbbing palms I was then instructed to kneel over the sofa, I heard Miss Kendal select a cane and swish it through the air, my bottom tensed, my breathing quickened, she came momentarily into view flexing the cane, teasing me, telling me how long i’d waited for this and how much I needed it. My mind was whirling, I wanted to plead, “cane me, please cane me”, I felt the light touch of the cane across my bottom, my breathing quickened further, release was at hand, and then it came that distinctive sound as the cane flies through the air and almost simultaneously the burning white heat of pain driving deep inside, 12 strokes like this hard and equally spaced with just enough time for the pain to rise and be followed by another before the previous one rescinded. There was no turning back now, it had started and the fear and excitement were rising with each stroke. After these first 12 strokes I was ordered over the vaulting horse, 12 more strokes were administered, the pain was incredible, excruciating. Miss Kendal then selected a series of canes increasing in size, two sets of 12 strokes with each, some with me counting and thanking Miss Kendal, others delivered in equally spaced and accurate strokes. By the third or fourth cane the pain was becoming unbearable and I was beginning to fear my desires had been wrong and I was not going to be able to withstand the thrashing I had so wanted, but then I suddenly became aware that the pain was now secondary, was dull and in the background, it was still there, it was still excruciatingly painful, but now something else was taking over, I was riding through the pain, I was flying, Miss Kendal had taken me to the best place in the world. I was in sub space, the caning continued in the background, ever harder, ever more painful but I was becoming less aware of the pain, it was being driven back by the feeling of complete joy, my head was spinning my mind was in turmoil battling with the pain and the pleasure, and I was happy and content, I was in ecstasy. The caning stopped and Miss Kendal’s gentle touch and words of kindness and encouragement guided me back to reality, I felt weak, my bottom was throbbing, my mind still swimming, we hugged, Miss Kendal praised me for taking my caning well, it had been as fantastic as I had dreamt it would be, I felt on top of the world. I looked at Miss Kendal thanking her for taking me to that special place and I caught a glimpse of that sadistic smile on her face, “its not over yet, I have not finished with you” she spoke slowly, quietly and deliberately, allowing me to take it in fully.
I was ordered back over the vaulting horse, and Miss Kendal produced three new implements, a hardwood paddle, a leather paddle with holes in it, and a rubber strap. “alternate strokes with each” Miss Kendal spoke “one with each, then two with each, and continuing up to six with each. You must then select which piece I finish you off with”. The pain started again, different this time, rubber stinging harshly, leather heavier but just as flexible, wood heavy dull and solid, one of each, two of each, …. by the time we reached six of each I was already on my way back to my special place, I needed Miss Kendal to grant me release and take me there, and it was time for me to choose how. I selected the leather, a paddle i’ve experienced many times before and a particular favourite of mine. Miss Kendal started to beat me, she was not holding back, I could hear the exertion from her as she brought down the paddle on my bottom, I was pleading through the pain, harder and harder, and then I was gone again I was in heaven. The beating eventually ended, I was guided from the vaulting horse and lay on the floor whilst Miss Kendal attended to my bottom, I drifted from sub space to reality and back again, I could hear faint words of encouragement and praise, I thanked Miss Kendal and exclaimed how amazing she was. This was one of the most amazing days of my life, and it was just about to get better, through the fog of my mind I heard Miss Kendal’s voice “just 12 more strokes of the cane Simon?”. “yes please Miss Kendal” and as I lay on the floor Miss Kendal delivered 12 more fantastic strokes of the cane, I savoured each and everyone of them, thanking her and pleading for the next one, it was truly the greatest moment ever, years of pent up desire had been released in just 90 minutes. Miss Kendal had taken me to a whole new level in my journey into submission and I was the happiest person alive at that moment.
When I was sufficiently recovered we sat and chatted easily over a coffee and cake, and it occurred to me that I’m not weird, I’m perhaps just a bit different to some people, but I’m also very happy and content with my life, and its made all the better thanks to my brief but regular visits to Miss Kendal. I am proud of what i am and what i have achieved and this is all due to the guidance and professionalism of Miss Kendal. Miss Kendal has taught me pride and humility, and she has helped me find myself, and I cant thank her enough for that gift.
Thank you Miss Kendal!
I again found myself knocking at the door of Miss Kendals house recently, with some small degree of apprehension as I had not visited her for a few weeks. But I soon felt at my ease with the friendly welcome I received, which I find soon puts to rest any nerves about what is soon to happen.
After a short chat, we were once more upstairs and Miss Kendal set out several leather straps and an imposing paddle stating that she would be using some or all of them. I knew then that I had to get my mind into the right place to be able to take what was undoubtedly going to be a severe thrashing, little did I know what was to come !!
I was bent over the pommel horse and strapped, then a cane appeared and then another strap and a cane again. By this time I was really feeling the effects of all those strokes especially those low ones.
But now I was told to on the floor and Miss Kendal renewed her strapping and caning, with it seemed even more of those painful low strokes. She finished off with that dreaded heavy leather with a torrent of hard strokes which reduced me to an absolute wreck.
A while later after some cuddles we were again chatting downstairs and I was enjoying a cup of coffee before I went on my way home.
I am hugely grateful that Miss Kendal allows me to visit her and I really enjoy our times together and I know there will be many more visits to Staffordshire .
Thank you Miss Kendal.
I have recently had the privilege of my second session with Miss Kendal. This is by way of a follow up to the testimonial posted after the first.
Everything I wrote there applied again to this meeting; not least her exceptional role-playing skills. On our first meeting, however, we were inevitably feeling our way as we got to know one another’s preferences and as she tested my tolerance levels. None of that diminished the enjoyment I got from that session but I was both excited and nervous to know what lay in store when we met again.
As Miss Kendal had promised, I was expecting to be pushed further this time; but not, perhaps, as far as turned out to be the case. I think we were both pleasantly (if that’s the right word in my case) surprised at the levels we reached in what was only our second encounter. There were several points at which I desperately wanted it to end; and several moments when I thought it had, only to be ordered back into position for a further onslaught. By the end there was no doubt that I had been thoroughly punished and, yet, I wouldn’t have foregone a moment of it. Now, almost a week later, my bottom is still spectacularly bruised and otherwise marked.
My purpose in writing this postscript is not to extol the virtues of severity for its own sake, still less to trumpet my own fortitude. Rather, it is to celebrate Miss Kendal’s extraordinary ability to “read” me, to understand exactly what I needed and to deliver it in an always carefully controlled, but uncompromising, way. Even when I was really suffering, I always felt safe. These skills are precious and I’ve met only one other person who possesses them to the same degree.
Thank you Miss Kendal.