Stockings were designed with the spanker in mind.
They present the bottom, they give an illusion of decency, of covering.
They may be underclothes and tell the world nothing of what is underneath. The colours tell the story, the dark strip of black at the upper thigh leading to creamy white, and on to deep magentas or light, dusky pinks.
One day, I should like to be taken out for the evening. I shall be wearing a dress and stockings. I shall look like every other woman I see. I shall be a little shy, my blushes more pronounced than other women’s. My skin is redhead pale, except under my dress there is only some stockings and a red, sore, swollen bum.
I would be shy, so shy. Maybe I would be a little resentful at first. I would have been spanked after I got ready, feeling sophisticated and a little proud of myself.
I would have been located, taken over his lap, and spanked hard, very hard. An alteration of headspace has been required.
***
She knew her place, she knew who she was in relation to him.
Afterwards she went to put her knickers back on.
“What are you doing?” There was no abrupt slant to his tone, just a slight amusement which never bodes well for her.
“I need my knickers.”
Silence.
“I do. This dress only comes to my knees. It’s too short, and what if there is a gust of wind? What if …. I don’t know. It’s not decent.”
Nothing.
“God, you’re impossible.”
A hundred other comments she wanted to make to him chose the better path and stayed in her throat.
And so she sits, straight backed and respectable but barely able to meet the eyes of the man who appears, for no discernible reason, to be slightly amused by her demeanour.
Poppy, you have a wonderful way of expressing the not so obvious way of things. Sometimes the tightest of bindings and the hardest of lessons are not as obvious. Indeed your reactions to these things do seem like they cause amusement yet that barely marks the surface.
Nicely captured
Cruel
Poppy, good morning.
and warm 
Going out with a freshly spanked young lady, who is not only sitting sensative, but is also knicker-less adds a certain joie de vivre to the evening.
Not, perhaps for the young lady, but certainly for her escort.
Beautifully written, as usual.
Paul.
Those private moments, when everything appears to be one way, but only the two of you know it is another…delicious. This was a treat, Poppy, for a rainy Monday morning.
Very good, Poppy, a nice mixture of squirmy and funny. I suspect my reactions would be exactly the same. It really shouldn’t be that easy for them.
It should not be so easy, Alice and that is why we must be as tricky as possible.
Scarlet, I know just what you mean. It’s the public secret.
Paul, thank you, you delightful man. Kisses to you.
Cruel, a beautiful comment, a wonderful compliment xx