227 – part (2) of (4)

Farmyard Fun and Frolics

 

The prefect Richard Sharp unhooked the gate to the pig paddy field, and Grizelda Gutteridge  obediently padded inside. Yuck….as her feet fell several inches into soft mud, simply for starters. She hovered uncertainly for several seconds, and then one of the residual Whipmasters sloshed towards her, even as Richard Sharp strode away. “If it isn’t Grizzie Bare….” he said ominously, using her original nickname. It wasn’t a million miles away from grizzly bears….and absolutely apt in this instance, “….in case my name has slipped your memory….” it had, “….I’m Gordon Florist, sometime from dorm 6N….” oh dear….another of The Six Nasties, though Year LXXXVIII, “….it’s Flawed Gawd, and I shall take the greatest of pleasure in….well, flooring you….” very funny, “….you may recall an incident in The Canteen when I was one of The Boys In Blue….” hence another of The Narks, and No she didn’t, “….you kindly Shopped me to the Supervisor for whispering Pass The Salt, during a Quiet Canteen….” still nothing, “….it was with one whack a word, and further flogging for the usual reason….” it still didn’t implicate her, “….since Silage said the naughty Note he’d been passed was written with green ink….” a fair cop, and guilty as charged, M’Lord, “….there’s no need to hover on the brink, so take the plunge.” As indeed his successors had been required to do only half an hour previously. However their penance had only been into a relatively dry drainage ditch. “Ohh,” she moaned as he pushed her hard. She attempted to take a step, however her feet were fixed in the mud, so she fell forward onto her arms. Then she felt a Wellington boot on her backside. “Ohh….” she repeated as she was propelled further, “…..ughhh,” she added as her front found favour with all the masses of mud, mess and misery….sizzzcrackkk “….ahhh….” sizzzcrackkk “….ahhh,” she gasped as two lashes landed on her bare back. Obviously there was no point in protesting anything about deserving his discipline, since it was Sneaking By Sluts which was the root cause of all his ire. It wasn’t normally considered a crime.

 

FLASHH “….I have her on film, Gordon,” said the second Whipmaster, “and the picture can go down to the Camera Club, along with all our others. Next, the sodding sneak can take a trample with a walkover….” well, she HAD been in dorm 6S, “….being The Boot Boy, this is really rather apt….” which must make him Boyd Booth of dorm 6D, thus once one of The Six Demeaners, “….you might recall a lunchtime last year when you were Library Monitor….” no, she didn’t, “….when you decided dropping my biro on the floor constituted a crime, and awarded me three strokes….doubled due to my distended dick.” All right, maybe she’d been having a bad hair day? But then they always were, since she hadn’t been a happy bunny until after her Mental Makeover. “Ohh….ohh….ohh….” she moaned as he stepped slowly along her back, “….ughhh,” she added as he pushed her head down deeply into the mud….sizzzcrackkk “….owww….” FLASHH….sizzzcrackkk “….owww,” she gasped as two lashes arrived onto her arse. They wandered away happily, and then she looked up into the eyes of Miss Whiplash. She was a whip-wielding wanton wench wearing a lot of black leather, but not in such a way which obscured ogling over her beautiful boobs, bum, or best bits. At least with the Wellingtons she should be spared any spurs. Then she stroked her slit suggestively. “This may serve as a reminder of my identity….Grizzie Bare,” she said. “So it’s Cunnie Stroker,” she said, “or Connie Striker, Ma’am. I’m sorry for whatever it was I did to you….” sizzzcrackkk “….ahhh,” she added. “It was when I was one of The Six Knackerers of dorm 6K,” she said, “and I was sitting immediately in front of you during morning assembly. Missus sneezed….and I simply whispered Bless You. You were waiting for me outside the hall afterwards, and kindly applied six of the best for Talking….” sizzzcrackkk “….ahhh,” she gasped, “….I wouldn’t have minded so much, except it made me six minutes late for Lesson 1, and I happened to be on five Detentions at the time. So the upshot was two more, each of which had a Closure Caning, and not counting an Explanation to Terrence. Pretty good going, even by St Sticks’ standards….” fair comment, but this was the way the system worked. Something similar had happened to her several times when she’d risen through the ranks, “….so I shall be pleased to stroke YOUR cunnie with The Cattle Prod.” To keep good old Zappo Products in the blue chips, as she spread her legs….ZZZZZZ “….UGHHH….” ZZZZZZ “….UGHHH,” she moaned. Much more and she’d be cumming again….FLASHH “….do excuse me,” said Miss Whiplash, “since I’ve several other salutary sows needing attention. The idea is you continue to crawl around the field, until such time as you want an alternative accommodation.” She sloshed away, even as another bedraggled and muddied figure approached her hesitantly on all fours.

 

“Is it really you….Grizzie?” he asked, with the ministry of the bleedin’ obvious again. On the other hand, maybe all the mud made a positive identification more difficult? “Yes,” she replied, “although it’s Domme now, which as a pupil In The Pink last year you should know perfectly well.” She peered at his hang-dog expression without warmth, since he seemed a simple submissive. “I know you’ve always shunned subbies,” he said, somehow divining her thoughts, “but since you’re a salutary sow, you must have SOME small similar side. I never thought I’d have the opportunity to say this, but I’ve always been a secret admirer of yours, and been foolishly infatuated.” She pursed her lips. “Remind me of your name,” she asked. “It’s Owen Beehive,” he replied, “and hence Oh Behave….” fair enough, “….one of The Six Canees last year….” dorm 6C, whose members craved caning at all costs, “….I really relished receiving your rattan on my raw rear….” quod erat demonstrandum, or Thus It Has Been Proved, “….and you dished me a delightful dozen due during September as part of the Autumn Thrash. However I claimed you hadn’t done so when you caught me wanking worthlessly in the Games changing room the following month. I suffered some six strokes for such sin, and then you stuck me under the cold showers, in order to cool my ardour. I was wanting more largesse for lying, but alas you gave me six dozen Lines instead. I’d even hoped for more hiney hits when I handed them in to your study, but alas you were otherwise engaged in the shower. Your junior fag kindly confirmed you were Wasting Water with Dildo Dick….” he shrugged, “….although I’d have been highly happy to help.” 

 

Which was the way of the world, she agreed as they worked their wicked way around to the entrance gate. Obviously, it was something with which she was an expert. “I’m done here, Domme,” he said, standing with difficulty, “since I’ve been well-whipped by plenty of prefects, and I’ve even taken a turn in the nettle patch….” oo..er, “….it’s not exactly tiptoe through the tulips, since they insist you sit smartly for several seconds….and it sodding well still stings.” Ouch….as she stood, too. “Where are you off to now?” she asked, as they sloshed out of the field. “The sheep dip,” he replied, “and then I shall go to The Blacksmith, and get a branding on my bare bum….with your initials D G G….” good grief, “….I expect nothing in return, since I know it’s unrequited love….” at least he knew his limitations, as together they padded towards the farmyard, “…..but should you ever discover you’re at a loose end, and are feeling charitable, I’m in The Beehive. It’s study 10 on Level 2.” Why not, as she turned towards him? “Mmmm,” he moaned as she kissed him hard, and held his hit hiney. Sure enough, she could feel the raised results of the nettles on a really raw rear. “Thank you, Domme,” he said as soon as they separated, “you’ve made me very happy.” A pulsing penis provided proof of the postulate….SMACKK “….oww,” he gasped. “Shoo,” she growled, “go and get dipped, since it’ll cool you off again.” He smirked, and headed away.

 

Slightly unsteadily, she ambled into the farmyard, and at once spotted a genuine farmer. “Good afternoon….Grizzie Bare,” said Major Clarence Icewater in his usual clipped tones, “delighted you could make it today, although I was somewhat surprised when Sue Sweet said you’d be playing a salutary sow….” she was as well, and she’d spent several weeks wrestling with herself before final succumbing, “…. Richard Sharp mentioned you’d arrived, on his way into the farmhouse for lunch. I have to say he seemed very happy about something.” She smiled slightly. “We’re going on a date this evening, Sir,” she replied, “since it seems we don’t dislike each other nearly as much as we thought. I suppose you could say our separate subbie sides have both blossomed, even though we’re both basically Dominant in disciplinary disposition.” He nodded. “It’s pretty plain you’ve already tried the pig paddy field,” he said, “so what’s on your agenda now, soldier?” She remembered his habit of putting people into the army. “I’ll try a pigsty please, Sir,” she replied, “and then maybe the milking machinery.” He nodded. “In which case, onto your knees.” She paused, hoping he’d help her with his cattle prod….ZZZZZZ “….UGHHH,” she moaned as it touched her twat, and she fell forward. With her slit still singing, she crawled across the muddy farmyard, and they soon reached the line of pigsties. “I think № 2 will work well,” he said, “we’ve several salutary sows inside, plus a prime porker, as well as real pigs….” he paused, “….you know the drill. There’s no formal timetable as such, so you can leave whenever you wish. If you haven’t already eaten, there’s several large bowls of food just inside…..” not proprietary pigswill, but probably best beef stew, “….perfectly palatable…..”  although the real pigs also agreed, as she’d seen the previous year, “….obviously there’s no cutlery….” she watched whilst he raised the gate, “….get in….ZZZZZZ “….UGHHH….” she moaned at another touch….ZZZZZZ “….UGHHH….” ZZZZZZ “….UGHHH….fuck….yess….YESS.” She crawled through and collapsed onto the muddy straw, shivering all over in obvious orgasm. “Evidently another pussy pain slut,” he suggested, “it must be….well, crawling with them….” ha bloody ha, “….do enjoy your stay inside the sty, soldier. I’ll be away, since I’ve many other duties.”

 

Slowly, the world stopped spinning, and she raised her rear. Arse in the air was the custom, which made the salutary sows seem surprisingly similar to their porcine cousins. Then she crawled across to the food bowls, and helped herself to several mouthfuls of stew. “Greetings….Grizzie Bare,” said someone, “this is SO much a surprise….” she sniggered, “….having hailed from one of the so-called CP dorms, I’m not at all mad at you for the discipline you dished me over the years.” So a second scholar was pleased to have had their posterior punished, rather than wreaking revenge. “I’m afraid I don’t recall your name,” she said, “although I suppose I should, since your accenting of the adverb is somehow familiar.” The other smiled widely. “It’s Andrea Pawling,” she replied, “formerly of The Six Jailbirds. As you might expect, this is all SO straight up my street….and I’m here every week.” She could understand how it would appeal to someone from dorm 6J. “Absolutely appalling….Appalling,” she agreed absently as she wiped her mouth, and then her hand on some straw. “I don’t see the prime porker, as promised by Made Your Eyes Water,” she said, “and who is it?” The other smiled. “It’s Shagger,” she answered, as her heart leaped again, “although he was a Farmer last time….” he’d always been a sixdy-sixdy switch….six dozen to the gross, or even-steven, “….he’s inside the covered area if you wanted to say Hello….” excellent, she agreed as she started to crawl accordingly towards it, “….the best of luck.” Why, she wondered as she continued through the door into the darkness?

 

There were no windows, although it was evident she wasn’t alone. “Ooh….ooh,” she moaned as she felt her fancy fondled, so she spread her legs fetchingly, “….OOOH….do it some more, dearest David.” There was a sudden snigger. “I’m over here, Domme,” said an amused voice. What the FUCK, she wondered with worry? “So who’s stroking my slit?” she demanded. “It’s Turnip,” he replied, “have you forgotten him already….?” hell, she had, as belatedly she recalled the prospectus for Farmyard Fun and Frolics….and about the big boar, whose bacon had been saved by his services as a stud, “….if it’s any consolation, he’s already similarly stroked my scrotum and straining shaft with his snout. I didn’t expect it to be especially erotic, but it was surprisingly stimulating….” he paused, “….even so, I’m grateful he’s well fed, since there’s no guarantee he won’t go for the gonads….” or bite both boobs, “….but this is a most pleasant surprise.” She crawled towards him. “Can you do me, David?” she asked, “since it’s a certainty your slots for this evening and tomorrow morning are taken.” He sniggered again. “This isn’t exactly the most salubrious of settings for a screw,” he agreed, “although I’ve already done Appalling in the same sordid style….” so what about the other salutary sows? “….they’re The Tidy Twins….for whom my not-so hidden charms are wasted….” clearly the clairvoyance course had been worth every new pound, “….two of your successors in The Six Sneaks, who’ve never had any time for me….” boy, were they missing out? “….fortunately I’ve sufficient skill….” and spunk, “….to service two successive slits....which is one reason why Bi-some threesomes are so good….” and another would be him watching the wanton wicked wenches or Witches at work together? “….how will you want my willy? Missionary, or in the Superior style?”

 

She considered the question. “Can we do doggy, David,” she said, “there’s no need for any oral appreciation, since I’m already totally turned on, and your tool will tip my twat over into orgasm.” She backed herself towards him, hoping it wasn’t Turnip. She’d never been into bestiality, and anyway there were several serviceable standard sows, should he be feeling frisky. Then she felt his human hands holding her naughty nipples. “Do me, David….” she implored, as her labial lips were parted and her pussy penetrated, “….Uhhh….Uhhh….Uhhh….” she moaned as he humped her hard. “The….Uhhh….least I can do is to ensure you….Uhhh….cum first,” he urged, “….UHHH….UHHH….OMG David….harder….UHHH, I’m cumming….UHHH….hold me hard….I’m cumming….yes….YESS….YESS.” She wiggled her waist slightly to coax him into continuing his quest. “UHHH….UHHH….UHHH,” he moaned, “Domme, I’m spurting already….UHHH….YESS….YESS….YESS.” He eased himself off her, and slowly his soft shaft slipped out. “Now we’ve done the dirty deed,” she said, “let’s leave Turnip, and be on our wicked ways. Perhaps you could kindly accompany me to The Milking Shed?” He patted her posterior and followed her out of the covered area. “I doubt Margarine will get much change out of me,” he said, as she aimed at an adorable arse….SMACKK “….oww….sod off, Shagger,” said a vixen’s voice. “Not guilty, Florence,” he said as he passed the presented posterior….presumably Flow Tide? Then they reached the gate. “Could you kindly raise it for us, Andrea?” he asked, as she did so. “Screw you soon, Shagger,” murmured Andrea Pawling, as he followed her outside into the farmyard.

 

Slowly, they both stood up. “This is going to be properly painful when I get back to my study, my love,” he said, as they started on their way, “since I’m now owed two Sex Thrashings. Rest assured I’ll undertake to Take Them On Trust, since neither you nor Andrea are in any state to administer them. In the past it would be Nurse Crusher, but nowadays my senior fag’s perfectly proficient with posterior punishment. I rather recall your cunt currency, unless you’ve upped the ante, and Appalling is Six For Sex. So Mitches will give me a straight eighteen, except I suppose I should say a sinful sixdeen….and seriously so….” very witty, “….I’m not sure of your itinerary for the rest of your visit, but should you suffer from insomnia, or awaken early, you might care to step across to my study at any time from six o’clock onwards? My morning date is with Nasty Girl, who did once suggest a Bi-some threesome with you….?” the teacher Anastasia Girling, “….I’m sure Stacy wouldn’t mind you muscling in on my manhood, so to speak.” She squeezed his hand. “A very generous gesture,” she agreed, “and we’ll see how things work out. What I haven’t had a chance to tell you is how I’ve patched things up with Rick The Prick. We’re due to visit The Stern Maiden together this evening in my hire car….” she paused, “….I do feel a slight twinge of guilt for finding the love of my life after so long, only to fuck a further fella within an hour….Mmmm,” she added as he kissed her, and so many more celestial harps sounded. “Best hope it’s not a Strict Sirs session,” he said as soon as they’d separated. “What are they?” she asked, “I’ve only been there once, when Terrence took me, and I don’t recall such a thing.” He patted her head. “The roles are reversed,” he explained, “so the sinful sluts supply the Coffee With Whipped Cream….” she shivered, “….as regards Richard, I doubt he’d mind much. But as his open-Wife, you should be able to continue playing the field….” he paused, “….I understand he has an offer from Aberdeen University….” he had? “….so he may be able to join you there in the autumn….” once again, her heart leaped, “….A-Levels permitting.” Then they reached their destination.

 

The Milking Shed 

In Lac Veritas 

As a Latin Lass, it was easy to translate….Where There Is Milk, There’s Truth. So not quite Wine, as they padded inside. Then she shivered at the strong smell of straw. Already, she could hear the hum of the milking machinery. As her eyes adjusted to the gloom, she could see some sinful studs lined up along one wall, all shackled and ironed. They were all unclothed, with the exception of one which wore a pink hood over his head. He’d be a so-called shy flower, a Dominant dolt who didn’t want his deviance divulged. Their necks were all noosed, since she rather recalled the Milkmaid being into Snuff Stuff. Needless to say, their crotches were connected to the nozzles. All six sufferers were shaking slightly, clearly under substantial sexual stimulation. He bowed towards the pretty personage wearing a soiled and stained black oilskin overall. It was only loosely affixed, and it seemed she wore nothing else underneath, apart from a pair of matching boots. Despite its obvious functionality, it was pretty plain she was particularly pokeable. “Hello, Shagger,” said Irene Marge, stroking herself where she shouldn’t, “I was hoping you’d finally show up….” clearly, he’d already met her….and apparently made a hit? “….although from the state of your soft shaft, it seems you’re not especially pleased to see me?” She saw him smile wryly. “I’ve just serviced two salutary sows, Ma’am,” he said, “so the milking machinery wouldn’t make much from me. However, as I mentioned last time, I’ve a filthy fetish for lovely Ladies in oilskins. You did suggest showing me your production statistics….” which must make a change from etchings? “….so perhaps a quick kiss and cuddle, with a firm promise to be….well, firmer next time….” of all the sodding cheek, but spoken with the complete confidence of a Cunt Casanova. On the other hand, why was she worried, since hers had been one of the copulated cunts? “….I’ll definitely determine you a date before the end of term, when I can do the deed properly….” he paused, “….meantime, I’ve brought a salutary sow for your august attention.” He gestured towards her. “Was she one of your recent recruits, Shagger?” she asked sourly….or should it be sow-erly? “Yes, Ma’am,” he replied, “this is my dearest Domme….who was Grizzle Guts last year.” There was a sudden sniff. “I rather recall her saying something along the lines of how she’d sooner be dead in a ditch,” she said, “yet here she is.” Shagger smiled sweetly. “Her Mental Makeover has intervened, Ma’am,” he replied, “and she’s….well, cumming to terms with her subbie side.” Very fucking funny, again.

 

“Stand against the other wall,” she ordered, “in position № 1, since you’re the only sow at present. Arms UP for the shackles, and legs spread wide….” she duly did so, as her wrists and ankles were immobilized, “….are you a shy flower, which wants a hood? Or are happy to be humbled with the world and his Wife watching.” She shrugged. “I’m past caring, Ma’am,” she admitted, “although Grizzle Guts would have wanted one. However she was a horribly haughty harridan who hated shame….even though it would have done her the world of good.” Her mud-drubbing by dearest David on the playing fields sprang to mind a second time. “There’s no noose like good noose….” he said wittily, as her neck was noosed, “….the rope’s only tentatively tied at the top. Should the worst happen and you faint, then you’ll fall to the floor without being hanged.” Nice to know. “Ohhh….ohhh….”she murmured as the nozzles were connected to two tantalizing tits. “Obviously there won’t be any milk production,” the Milkmaid continued, “however it will still be horrendous humiliation….” she wheeled another item into place, “….I took up Shagger’s suggestion about Mechanized Multi-stranded Mammary Minute Martinets….” or rather rotating tease-whips, “….albeit for strafing the slit….” oo..er, “….and he’s right. They do help naughty nipples stay stimulated….” as indeed she’d discovered to her detriment at Stern Hall the previous summer. She’d insisted at the outset to Professor Wodin Tiberius Thring about not being some sort of slut, and had been mortified to find she was badly mistaken, “….and it’s the same with scrotums, and straining shafts….oh, you rude boy,” she added as he patted her posterior. “She’s a pussy pain slut, Ma’am,” he confirmed, “so she’ll enjoy any amount of Cunnie Punnie.” The Milkmaid giggled girlishly. “I’ll just get her going,” said Margarine, “and then perhaps you could accompany me to my office? I’ll accept your offer on account, against your absolute assurance of some more subsequent satisfactory service.” She pressed a button, and then the Martinets started up. “UGHHH….UGHHH….UGHHH….UGHHH,” she gasped as her fancy’s flesh was flayed. Dammit….wasn’t this what Dick Dastardly had once done to her with the Autostrop in a distant dream? “Uhhh….Uhhh….Uhhh,” she moaned as the nozzles sucked on her naughty nipples. Hell, they were hard, and they’d only just started.

 

Æons later it seemed, she was soaked in sweat. Then Shagger sauntered past with a smug smile. “I was able to offer Irene a short screw after all,” he said, “under the heading of a Quicke Fuckie. She graciously applied only three whacks, which is as well considering what I’ve still to suffer shortly. However I’ll leave you now, having loved you. I won’t bother with Dowsing Duty, since I shall shower in my study. However I’d strongly suggest you do so, since otherwise you’ll make a mess in your hire car….” fair comment, “….safe journey, should I not….well, see you soon….” screw him, “….and enjoy your date with Richard. I’m very happy for you both.” He mouthed her a kiss, even as the Martinets started up. “UGHHH….UGHHH….UGHHKK….UGHHKK,” she gasped again, as now the noose nipped at the nape of her neck. Being theoretically about to breathe one’s last was indeed strangely stimulating.

  

Another eternity afterwards, she was shivering all over in sheer sexual stress. She’d cum several more times, and she had to admit Snuff Stuff had a lot going for it. “Ohh….ohh,” she moaned as the Milkmaid finally removed the nozzles. “Shagger’s GOOD….” she agreed, as she removed the noose, followed by all her shackles, “….I raised my oilskins, bent over the desk, and he offered me any amount of anal attention. It was followed by oral appreciation, whilst he met my martinet….” seven strands of sheer suffering, “….by which time we’d stimulated his shaft sufficiently for a short screw. I’m really looking forward to a further full fuck from his fancy.” So another success story. “Thank you for this session, Ma’am,” she said, “it certainly succeeded in showing this slut some Superiority….” Smackk “….oww,” she added at a playfully patronized pat on the posterior. “You’re most welcome,” the Milkmaid replied, as slowly and unsteadily, she stumbled towards the shed door.

 

She stepped out into daylight, and saw how her hire car had arrived in the interim. It was parked outside The Gelding Shed, something which she might manage without this time? What she wanted was a wash, which alas would be the hard way. Reluctantly, she padded towards Captain Carla Icewater, noting her British army attire with its khaki-coloured short severe service skirt. “I like dowsing despicably devious and damnably demanding damsels,” she said with a wide smile and high-pressure hose , “especially uppish ones which need to be taken down a few pegs.” She winked once, and turned on the tap….WHOOSH “….AHHH….” she gasped as the water cascaded across her chest….WHOOSH “….ughhh….” she spluttered as it fell foul of her face. She slipped on the wet stones, and lay writhing on the ground. “Stay still, soldier….” she said, adopting her husband’s habit, and with a wet Wellington boot boring into her back….WHOOSH….WHOOSH “….Ahhh….Ahhh,” she gasped as her derrière was done….WHOOSH….WHOOSH “….Ahhh….Ahhh….AHHH,” the jet jolted both buttocks before continuing along her crease. Eventually, it was withdrawn. “Turn over, soldier,” she ordered….WHOOSH….WHOOSH “….UGHHH….UGHHH,” she moaned, her legs spread wide as the jet finally found and flushed her flogged fancy. “You’re done….Domme,” she said, as she turned off the hose, “and I’ll admit I enjoyed it immensely. Here’s a towel….” she handed it over, “….you’ll find a Short Shirt in your car….” which was quick work? “….I’m one of the Detention Supervisors this evening….” but how had she known her intended itinerary? “….so feel free to choose me if you wish, since I’d to continue our co-operation.” It was good to be wanted, even if not necessarily for the right reasons. “Yes, Ma’am,” she replied sulkily, “I’ll give it some thought.” Then a second sow strolled up, completely covered in mud. “I should get double time for you,” she said, as she started the procedure all over again. Certainly it was with some Schadenfreude, as she towelled herself down, whilst watching the wanton wicked wench washed. So who was, she wondered. “Turn over, Mo,” she said, “and I’ll do The Mohole.” What wit….WHOOSH….WHOOSH “….UGHHH….UGHHH,” the other girl moaned in obvious pussy pain….plus pleasure. Which must, she reflected as she stacked the towel neatly on the ground, make her Maureen Hoag….and hence hailing from dorm 6H? Gingerly she opened the car, and slid slowly into the driver’s seat. On the passenger seat there were her residual basic black clothes. They were the ones she’d been wearing on arrival, obviously placed there by Richard Sharp as asked. However, there were also two pink items, accompanied by a naughty Note. She recognized her former fag’s handwriting at once.

 

Domme – I bumped into Rick The Prick upon arrival, and he said you were doing a Detention. You’ll need a Short Shirt and tie, so I fetched one of each from my study. I’m afraid you’ll also be introduced the hard way to Davy’s initiatives. They’re the so-called sodding Shagger’s Natty New Seats Of Learning, which I mentioned on your previous visit. I fear the two go hand-in-hand….well, seat to semi-sharp spikes. Certainly they each make Detentions much more memorable. Best swishes, and I hope your date goes well this evening. Love, Brenda.  

PS I’m happy to have humped him on your behalf during the past year. However our relationship would have had to end soon in any event. I like to imagine I’ve moulded him quite a lot during our “marriage.” With luck, you’ll find him more amenable towards pussy pleasing, and far less firmly fixed on fellatio for a fella’s fancy. 

 

Presumably, she’d spoken similarly to Cooler Carla? She picked up the pink shirt, and held it high. Heavens, there was hardly anything left. She could see it had been specially shaped, sewn and seamed to remove much of the material. The sleeves were unchanged, but at the back it was cut away just below the shoulder blade. The collar remained, and a three inch tongue carried the buttons, which all allowed the pink tie to be worn conventionally. It was quite clear how there was an added advantage when worn by sinful sluts. It also enabled an instant naughty nipple inspection, since a beautiful boob was proudly presented in place of one pocket. She shrugged, and put it on. It didn’t make much difference to her overall attire, and she’d still be Driving Dubiously Dressed. Slowly, she drove out of the farmyard, and took the track. Shortly, she passed the abandoned remains of the monks’ kitchen gardens from the original Stricktlands Abbey, and finally finished in the Staff car park. All right, she thought as she parked at one end, technically she had no business doing so. However, what could anyone do about it….apart from ask her to move into one of the various Visitors’ ones? She took hold of her overnight bag from the back, and extracted both brush and comb. After she’d done her best using the limited resources of the driving mirror, she returned them, plus the accumulation of clothes. The sun was warm through the windshield, and suddenly she was terribly tired. Perhaps a short forty winks would work wonders?

 To be continued...

 

227 – part (1) of (4)

Farmyard Fun and Frolics

 

According to the car clock, it was 12.09pm when Dominetta Grizelda Gutteridge drove very slowly along the main carriage drive at St Stricktlands School. It was a warm summer Saturday afternoon, quite clearly a D-Day, since she could see the various sections duly delineated. They were for The Boys In Blue, plus their peers In The Pink, hence a total of two dozen Ditch Details in all. Most certainly, the process put the bad boys properly in their place. During the day, they were required to completely clear their section of vegetation, which always included any amount of thistles and stinging nettles. Worse, or perhaps better depending upon one’s perspective, they worked next-to-naked, with only PT plimsolls and gloves for personal protection. Indeed, she could see the top halves of several seriously unhappy-looking pink figures down in the deep drainage ditch. Towering over them were their two Guards, dressed in the Reformatory regalia. It was a military style, tight white blouse with shoulder flashes to signify authority, a short black mini-skirt, black stockings with a severe seam at the rear, plus long black boots with high heels. Needless to say, they all carried an Officer’s crop, and a Tanningtown tawse beneath their belt. She’d immensely enjoyed all her own D-Days during Year LXXXVIII, most notably the one when she’d been rostered with dorm 6C. The Six Canees were all serious subbies, ones who craved cropping at all costs. As such, she’d really hit their hiney’s hard for their happiness….and beaten their bare balls. 

 

As she continued to drive gingerly, she inspected some of the Car Cleaning Crew Bucket Brigades at work. They were The Babes in Blue, plus THEIR peers In The Pink. They all wore Shaming Shorts and Abrasion Bras, the former with cut-outs at the back, with both buttocks bared….and what was called a cunt-out at the front. The brassières offered a pin-cushion casing on the inside surface with which to torment the tits, and needless to say, the naughty nipples were nude. Wryly, she recalled her own efforts during Year LXXXVII, prior to the arrival of Ava Frasch as Head of PT at St Sticks. Then, the sinful sluts simply wore gym uniform….as opposed to Have A Thrash’s GIM, an acronym of Garments Inciting Misery. There were also PT plimsolls, in addition to the same smooth steel slave collars as adorned by the bare bad boys down in the ditch. As a disciplinary Domme, she’d always been grateful to have been a prefect when the new order was introduced. However, her sneaky submissive side wouldn’t be silenced… which was one reason she’d chosen today to visit her Alma Mater. She shivered slightly as she saw their two Guards, both wearing the Gestapo Guy gear to excellent effect. It was a white shirt with black tie, black tricot tunic with wide leather belt, matching black breeches, and black jack-boots. An Officer’s crop and military style peaked black cap completed the picture. The whole scene was the St Sticks’ take of the ancient movie Cool Hand Luke. It was where a prison chain gang been teased by a phenomenally fetching floozy. She’d been suggestively washing a car, whilst wearing an ultra tight top and the hottest of hot-pants. So here, the sinful sluts strutted shamelessly with the Wet Look, and the bad boys had to cope with a colossal prick-tease whilst they worked.

 

Suddenly, she slowed the car at the section labelled The Six Nasties, since she’d seen the so-called Smith Sisters on duty as their two Guards. No… since it seemed they really WERE Sisters… well, half ones, anyway. One car was being cleaned, with two Gestapo Guys…. but who were they Guarding? She pursed her lips in memory, and the identity became clear. The Connor Twins, both a bit butch, confirmed it to be dorm 6L. She parked behind B1 TTN, on the other side of the road. From its personalized vehicle registration plate, it was most likely the teacher Herbert Bitterne’s? She honked the horn, and waved through the windshield. Brenda Smith returned the gesture, and strutted across to the driver’s side. “Hello, Missus,” she said warmly, “all set for A-Levels?” She was returned a grimace. “The exams start on Monday, Domme,” she replied, “and I suppose, ‘as ready as I’m ever going to be,’ is the honest answer….” she could sympathize, since this hadn’t been the happiest period of her life either, with so much hanging on the results, “….did you want to invoke your punishment prerogative….Ma’am? I’ll be pleased to lend you my riding crop or Tanningtown tawse, should you not have a handy cane in your nice hire car.” Which was very reasonable of her, since it hadn’t been in her mind to do so. Then she recalled how it had happened to her the previous year. Dearest David had seen her swished soundly by Paula Nixhof, rot her naughty knickers. She’d had him report to her study later during the day, to wreak her revenge. But she was correct about the car, since it was from Rex Rentals, as stated in large grubby letters on its side. Actually it was neither the newest nattiest nor neatest, and perhaps it should really read Wrecks? 

 

“I’m afraid I’ve been Driving Dubiously Dressed,” she admitted, “basically being bare below the belt, so I’m not exactly decent.” Her former senior fag smiled widely as she waved away the objection. “I’m sorry to say it’s one of my sordid sins….” she said, “….mine too,” muttered Miffy Smiffy, “….and also in the altogether.” So it was similarly starkers for the second Smith Sister. “It’ll give The Six Nasties a cheap thrill….” she continued, “….maybe a mite more expensive,” added Missus, “since they’ll end up cropped for their crime.” Fair, or unfair enough, she agreed as she stepped out of the car. “Ohh,” gasped the two Gestapo Guys as they inspected her basic black prefect’s uniform….the top half, anyway. “Welcome back….” said Maxwell Heddon, “….delighted, Domme,” added his favourite friend Adrian Lucas. She was well aware they leaned leftwards, having hailed from The Six Gays of dorm 6G. “Everyone can take a brief break,” said Brenda Smith, loudly, “and the Car Cleaning Crew too, if their Guards are in agreement?” There were two neat nods, “We’ll do another naughty nipple inspection afterwards,” said Max Headroom, “so The Six Lezzies will probably all pay for their pleasure.” She watched whilst they all downed tools….so to speak. Probably it was a misnomer insofar as the Ditch Detail were concerned, and rather the reverse?

 

“In case you’re not already aware of it,” said Myfanwy Smith, “there’s this rather nasty sting-in-the-tail number at The Styx. You may be thinking how in a few weeks you’ll be free from your fearsome fagmaster or frightful fagmistresses, but it isn’t so. There’s a facility known as Once-A-Fag, Always-A-Fag, and its meaning is the ministry of the bleedin’ obvious….” there was several gasps of shock, as the horrible truth sank home, and Brenda Smith took over, “….my former Ma’am will now dish a dose of discipline, with a Welcome Back Whacking upon my delightful derrière.” She shimmied up her short black skirt as she spoke, and sure enough the slut wasn’t wearing any naughty knicks. Still, as a pretty prefect this was perfectly permissible, and the seamed stocking terminated in a black suspender belt. “You can take the taps with the tawse, Missus,” she said as the younger girl handed it over, and bent down to be beaten. “One of the best bums in the business,” said Max Headroom, with obvious approval, “even I can appreciate such an adorable arse, even though I’m a gay guy.” It would be much more for the Ditch Detail, whose dicks had no chance at all of staying soft….CRACKK “….ONE, thank you MA’AM,” she gasped, clearly claiming….what would it be? “Is it tawsees’ privilege they enjoy at St Templars?” she enquired. “Apparently it’s punishees’, Ma’am,” she replied, “or so Davy tells me. You’ll understand I’ve never attended Tanningtown Templar myself, so the information’s second-hand.” 

 

Either way, it still enabled her to stay silent apart from the cut count, some suitable salutation and an affirmation of appreciation….CRACKK “….oooh….TWO, thank you, MA’AM….” it was so often the same when a sinful slut spoke the second sound….so much like sex, “….oooh….this certainly takes me back….” probably, she was playing to the gallery? “….I suppose it’s like revisiting the rattan, before I’ve actually left school.” Which was about the size of it….CRACKK “….yeee….THREE, thank you, MA’AM,” she yelped. “Quite so,” she agreed, “since it’s a popular product. As I expect you know, my father’s was wont to do so. I fear my Mother’s vitriolic vanilla….one of those prissy people who pursue only perfectly plain poking. So he reports to The Headmaster’s study on every Arrival Afternoon in order to Explain himself. He’s caned comprehensively after confessing his crimes….” she smiled slightly, “….now I’m over eighteen, I’m highly happy to hit his hiney when I’m home during the holidays….” she shrugged, “….I hadn’t intended to stop short at the penultimate stroke, since it’s studied sadism….” an already aching arse, but with the mental misery of further flogging to follow, “….however old habits die hard. So I’ll apply the coup de grâce.” Colloquially called the Cut Of Grace….CRACKK “….FOUR, thank you so much, MA’AM. I know I needed it, since it keeps me humble.” Slowly she stood, which would normally be a caneable crime….of Rising Without Permission.

 

“I’ve a suggestion,” she said, “although it’s none of my business. But it occurs to me there’s mileage in reversing your Guards’ roles? I daresay the gay guys would enjoy dishing the discipline to the Ditch Detail. Also, the lovely Lezzies would prefer the pretty prefects?” There were four murmurs of agreement. “You could bring your S7’s after lunch, too?” she suggested, as Maxwell Heddon smiled broadly. “Now you’re talking, Domme,” he said, “we’ll enjoy using them on the bad boys’ bare balls.” The Standard St Stricktlands School Study Scrotum Snatchers. “Sis and I will give The Six Lezzies the once over,” said Missus, “I daresay The Six Nasties will as well, although it’ll mean more punishment for Ogling Obviously Over these innocent young Ladies.” She watched whilst the Car Cleaning Crew stood in line to attention with their hands behind their heads. As they were all inspected, she could see them smiling slightly at the dudes down in the ditch. “I’ll enjoy this too, Domme,” said Brenda Smith, “since as you know, I have light Lesbian leanings….” which HAD been a surprise, “….and a girlfriend who’s….well, Very Nice.” She smiled. “Verity Gneiss,” she confirmed, “dorm captain of The Six Bi Babes. I spent a session with dorm 6B when I was last here last time, and I agree she’s very nice indeed.” It had been an interesting introduction to the world of bisexuality, with dildo head-harnesses and suitable strap-ons.

 

“Any time the position’s vacant, Ma’am….” muttered one of The Connor Twins at the end of the line, “….feel free to contact us accordingly,” added the other, next to her. “No talking in the ranks,” said Myfanwy Smith, “so bend over, both of you.” They turned around, and adopted the angle. “I know they’re Alexandra and Rubina,” she murmured to Missus and Miffy Smiffy, “since I rather recall caning them in a corridor one day. They’ve each a small scar on their buttocks.” The Smith Sisters both nodded. “As you can see, Domme,” said Missus as she took up the tawse, “it’s Lexicon on the left, and Rubicon on the right.” CRACKK “….OWW….thank you, MA’AM,” CRACKK “….OWW….thank you, MA’AM,” they both gasped. “Now the same again for Soliciting….flattering though it may be.” CRACKK “….OWW….thank you, MA’AM,” CRACKK “….OWW….thank you, MA’AM,” they both repeated. “You may stand,” she said, “anyway, you’re all guilty as charged, so it’ll be your choice of punishment with the crop. Either take a tap to each tantalizing tit, in which case thrust them forward….or spread your legs, should you prefer Cunnie Punnie. I’ll do the first three in line, and Miffy the remainder. We’ll use the Rapid Responses….which are rather rare.” She watched as The Connor Twins arose, and obviously opted for the former….THWACKK “….AHHH….” THWACKK “….AHHH,” gasped the first. “I don’t recall the others’ names, Missus,” she ventured, “especially the last one in line, which is a face I don’t recognise at all.” Her former fag nodded, “Next it’s their dorm captain, Josephine French….” she said, who spread her legs….THWAPP “….UGHHH,” she moaned, bending forward as her fancy was flogged, “….Not Tonight Josephine’s a Bi Babe, as is Gabrielle Bounden, who’s next.” Gay Abandon, and another candidate for cunt cropping….THWAPP “….UGHHH,” she moaned, fetchingly. 

 

“Next is Miss Owen,” said Myfanwy Smith, “since Honour’s not into any form of familiarity….or so Shagger said, even during a session in his study….?” why, she wondered, would dearest David be entertaining a lovely Lezzie? “….On Her Own wanted to sample the sensation of sleeping with a stud….” wonders would never cease, “….although apparently she’s not about to repeat her small slide into bisexuality.” There was a slight smirk on the fetching face….THWACKK “….AHHH….” THWACKK “….AHHH,” she gasped, and now it was the mystery Miss….what wit? “Finally, Domme,” said Missus, “it’s Theresa Reece….spelled R-H-Y-S….” ohh, “….and you’re right, since this is only her second term at St Sticks….” which explained it, “….she was the first of what have now become Shagger’s Schoolday Sojourns….” so he’d been up to his old tricks again, “….she’s The Token Straight Slut….and one of Harry Herbert Orwell’s forthcoming ménage-a-quatre….” really? “….if everything goes according to plan with THEIR A-Levels next year, they’ll all be joining us at the University of Lancashire.” She saw the younger girl smile smugly, as she spread her legs. “Us?” she asked her. “Please, Ma’am,” she replied, “it’s my favourite friends Mitches and Ritches The Bitches, with me and H₂O. But by then, the prefect David Shagton plus both these lovely Ladies should be in their second year.” It all certainly seemed to be organized. “Sis and my ménage with Shagger is a more conventional trois,” put in Miffy Smiffy, “if one can use the term in such a way.” THWAPP “….UGHHH,” she moaned as the crop connected with her crotch, and slowly she straightened. “Carry on with the car cleaning,” said Missus, “we want it waxed well….or it will mean more whacks.” Ha bloody ha.

 

“Now it’s the bad boys’ turn for some testicle taps,” said Maxwell Heddon, “so thanks for the suggestion of a swap, Domme. Kindly turn around and bend down with your legs spread wide, bad boys.” She watched whilst they did so. “I see they’re all wearing Naccatape, Max….” she said, noting the ¾ inch wide white torment tape, “….is this another new innovation?” He nodded. “Starting this summer,” he agreed, “it’s worn by all the bad boys during Ditch Days, and also for Naccarim. I understand the latter was following Shagger’s suggestion to Have A Thrash.” Ouch. “As it says on the carton,” she agreed, “scrotums become so scrumptiously squashable.” Very choice. “They’d have been The Narks of dorm 5N during my period as prefect,” she said, stroking herself softly where she shouldn’t, “and I’ve a handle on The Gods Themselves, having hit their hineys hard on occasion. However I can’t recall any others’ names.” Both Gestapo Guys nodded. “Take the tap,” said Adrian Lucas, “and identify yourself with your name and nick. Then take the plunge….” very witty, “….and continue your endeavours. We’ve a little while longer until Dowsing Duty….” when the Car Cleaning Crew’s buckets of water would be thrown at them, “….the same as the fetching floozies, there’s no need to count, or offer affirmation.” THWAPP “….UGHHH….Gould, Roald….uhhh….Rolled Gold, Sir….ohhh,” he added as he jumped into the ditch….THWAPP “….UGHHH….Fearing, Godfrey….uhhh….The Fear Of God, Sir.” THWAPP “….UGHHH….Roth, Godfrey….The Wrath Of God, Sir.” So she’d been right about them….THWAPP “….UGHHH….Doughty, Nigel….uhhh….Dirty, Sir.” It was pretty plain how he was definitely dirty, too….THWAPP “….UGHHH….Rance, Sidney….uhhh….Rancid, Sir.” THWAPP “….UGHHH….Poole, Cecil….uhhh….Cesspool, Sir.” So a good job well done.

 

“Did you want your car cleaned, Domme?” asked Missus as they both approached, “since it seems a sound suggestion? We’ve only Bitter Herb’s left to do, and we can’t have the Crew idling around after lunch.” So she’d had it right about the teacher. “I’m en route to The Home Farm….” she explained, “for Farmyard Fun and Frolics.” Her former fag nodded knowingly. “I expect Davy will be delighted to see you soon….” but not screw her….at least, not then, “….presumably you’ll be a Farmer?” She shook her head. “I shall give my subbie side an outing,” she admitted, “and be a salutary sow this afternoon. I know it’ll be horrendously humiliating, but it rather enjoyed it when David gave me my Mud Drubbing on a playing field during the time of my Mental Makeover. He showed me how he can be SUCH a Superior Sir, and it really put me in my place.” There were several sniggers from the Car Cleaning Crew. “He’s playing prime porker today, so you may meet him somewhere.” She certainly hoped so….unless the Milkmaid had got to him first, in which case he’d already have been spunked out by the electric milking machinery. “I could always bring the car around to the Home Farm afterwards, Domme?” Missus suggested, “being private property, and with your permission, there’s no insurance angle? Then you’d be able to drive to the main buildings instead of having to hoof it….so to speak. It’s a long way when one’s been bound, bridled, beaten, bullied, booted, bedraggled, branded or bonked….or any combination thereof. I can easily walk back here afterwards.”

 

She nodded. “Thank you so much, Missus,” she said, “it would be most appreciated, especially since my exact itinerary afterwards is slightly fluid at this stage. I’ve several possible plans, but I’m not sure how they’ll pan out in practice.” She’d suck it and see, so to speak. “You can use my study in case of need this evening,” her former fag continued, “since I’m playing away.” She wouldn’t bother to ask with whom. “Thank you so much, Missus,” she said contritely, “I’ll just pay my respects to the Ditch Detail.” She shut the door, and padded across to The Six Nasties. “Thank you, good Sirs,” she said, stroking herself suggestively where she shouldn’t, “I daresay they’ve all been bad boys again. Do you think they should take another tap to the testicles, Adrian?” suggested Maxwell Heddon. “Definitely, Max,” he replied, “they were all Staring At Slits….peeking at previous prefect’s pussy, and have all failed another erection inspection.” She padded away across the grass, feeling a frisson of freedom. Slowly, the cries of cropped crotches faded as she continued across the playing fields towards the woods. Did she really want to go through with this, she wondered for the twentieth time? Each step towards her fate worse than death was an effort of will, however her submissive side was still insistent….an oxymoron in itself.

 

It was perhaps a quarter of an hour later when she reached The Home Farm, and the pig paddy field. There must have been a dozen or so assorted prime porkers and salutary sows crawling around in the masses of mud, mess and misery. They were being ably assisted none too kindly by Miss Whiplash and three Whipmasters. The latter’s wherewithal was one of black leather, with a black peeked hat and black hobnail boots. Their black-buttoned leather tunics were wide open, although they wore a black tie with no shirt. But the pièce de résistance was surely the pair of long black leather trousers, which came complete with a cut-out for the crotch. A similar one at the rear revealed particularly pert posteriors, over which it was almost impossible not to ogle. The timely addition of big black Wellington boots enabled them all to stay nice and clean, although they were hardly fashion statements. Then her heart leaped as a highly handsome Whipmaster spotted her, and slowly sloshed towards her, each step slurping slightly. “Greetings… Domme,” said Rick The Prick, with obvious warmth, “this is truly a most pleasant surprise….” wonders would never cease, since before now, he’d never given her the time of day, “….are you here only for the afternoon, or hopefully you’ll be lingering a little longer?” She smiled as they stared shyly at each other across the fence. “It’s until tomorrow morning….Richard,” she replied, “but I decided to visit The Styx for Farmyard Fun and Frolics.” He nodded. “I assume as a Farmer?” he enquired, but she shook her head.

 

“I did so last year,” she replied, “before my Mental Makeover. However I’ve discovered I’m not as much a disciplinary…. well, Domme as I once thought. I was always adamant about leaning at least ’levendy….” eleven dozen to one, “….but now I know I nudge ninedy to thirdy.” SNAPP….he snapped his fingers. “I started the same,” he replied, “but now I’m nine dozen to three....” somehow, she suspected similar skulduggery from Shagger? ….” he took a deep breath, and she could sense an internal tussle inside him, “….on reflection, I honestly wish sodding Shagger hadn’t helped me transfer out of your Caning Class last year….” really? “….I’d have said so before, but I managed to miss your last visit. However….” his voice trailed off, and he recovered gamely, “….dammit, Domme, I can’t stop thinking about you….even if you always were a stuck-up so-and-so super-bitch.” He unhooked the gate, stepped outside, and held her hard. “So, Richard….” she said sternly, even though several thousand celestial harps were suddenly sounding, “….after all these years, are you finally able to accept the fact I’m your Superior? Show me you’re sincere, put yourself in the Position For Penance….” one well-worthy of worship, “….arms out, with an adorable arse in the air.” He dropped down instantly. “I beg your forgiveness, Ma’am,” he said, “it was simply the sin of pride which stopped me for so long.” Was this really happening? She’d fondly and frequently fingered herself whilst imagining hearing those impossible words. Then she’d done herself with Dick Dastardly….her punishment penis for a purring pussy. “Be very thankful I wasn’t one of The Six Sets ♀f High Heels,” she said wryly, “or I’d show you something else to do with my Marcos boots.” He shivered visibly. “Grizelda….more like Imelda,” he confirmed her additional epithet, “but those deviant damsels kidnapped me twice last year, Ma’am,” he confirmed, “which was exactly what happened. Although it wasn’t as bad as with The Six Lezzies. Even Doms don’t want to annoy anyone in dorm 6L, since they dish dorm dildos up the derrière.” As indeed she too had discovered the hard way during her period In The Pink.

 

“Perhaps you might please pussy?” she suggested, “as an earnest of intent?” She wondered whether he’d do so, or whether she was pushing her luck? “Most certainly, Ma’am,” he confirmed, “I don’t normally….apart from Mrs Sharp….” what? “….sodding Shagger’s Missus, but he lends her to me on Sundays. Unlimited oral appreciation was always a part of the deal.” So David’s largesse knew no bounds, even to the extent of offering out his better half….no, surely now only a third? “Uhhh….uhhh….uhhh,” she moaned as he gave her several long licks from fanny and fancy to forest. Clearly, he knew what he was doing….when he wanted to. “As a….uhhh….special treat,” she said, “you can….uhhh….hold my hiney….uhhh….you can stop when I cum….” which wouldn’t be long….ohh….ohh,” she added as he reached around, “….uhhh….uhhh….UHHH,” she moaned as he tickled her twat with his tongue, and then delved deep. With obvious expertise, he slowly sucked her clit into his mouth. “….UHHH….UHHH….UHHH….” she moaned, “don’t you DARE bite it, bastard boy….” surely he’d take the hint about her being a pussy pain slut? “AYEEEEE….EEEE….FUCK,” she shouted as he duly did so, “OMG….I’m cumming… yes….YESS.” He let her lips loose….SLAPP “….ahhh….” SLAPP “….ahhh,” he gasped, “How DARE you do such a shockingly sinful thing….?” for some strange reason, he seemed only slightly surprised at her outburst….almost as though he’d been expecting her to say so? “….I should very much appreciate a repeat.” 

 

He looked at her oddly, and resumed his indecent activity. “UHHH….UHHH….UHHH,” she moaned, already on the edge of orgasm, “YESS….YESS….YESS.” He sat back on his haunches. “I hope it helps to show my sincerity….Ma’am,” he said, “might I invite you out for a date….with a romantic dinner….?” crikey, he was keen, “….I’m not sure how we might manage it, however The Stern Maiden springs to mind.” She smiled slightly. “Nothing could be simpler,” she replied, “since I’ve a hire car today. It’s currently being cleaned, since it’s a D-Day, and Missus will drive it across later. Shall we say shortly after seven o’clock at the Staff car park….” he nodded, with obvious enthusiasm, “….I’d make it earlier, but I’ve a Detention to do….” now he WAS shocked, “….Nasty Girl dished it during my previous visit, after I’d been thrown into The Swimming Pool by….shall we say some disgruntled scholars. I’ll tell you all about it later, if you wish?” Slowly, he stood up. “Presumably you’ll be playing In The Pink?” he asked, “as indeed I assume you were last time. It’s not something I’ve ever done….nor you, during your time of tenure as a prefect. At least, so far as I’m aware?” She nodded. “Correct, Richard,” she agreed, “but having finally tried the experiment, I’ve found it to be phenomenal fun….in between beatings….” she started to strip off her remaining clothes, and stacked them neatly on the ground, “….I’d appreciate it if you could keep those safe for me, somewhere. I’d be grateful if they could end up inside my hire car….which is Rex Rentals.” He nodded. “I’d be delighted to do so,” he said, somehow speaking as if he were speaking by rote, “as a gesture of my undying love for you….” he grinned, as she stood starkers, hands on head, “….but you’ll be in need of some new uniform for your Detention….” she would? “….it’s Horrible Harry’s so-called Short Shirt….” presumably H₂O had been up to his old tricks again? “….they’re now a requirement for all detainees during the day. I won’t bother to explain how they work now, since you’ll find out soon enough. But maybe you can borrow one from Missus….or otherwise ask The SS….?” fair enough, “….but now you’re nicely nude, it’s time you got going into the pig paddy field, since I’m just away to lunch. If you haven’t otherwise eaten, they should serve you something in the pigsties….” she’d had a brief break and elevenses at Harry’s Homemade Hamburgers, “….it’s probably as well you showed up now, rather than earlier….” why? “….there are still three Farmers working here. I daresay they may all have scores to settle….” oops, “….and it might have been many more….” so she’d been let off lightly? “….I forward to later, after your subbie side’s satisfied.” SMACKK “….ohh,” she gasped as he smacked her seat smartly.

 

To be continued……

Chapter 226

 

Tenth Interlude

 

“So who’s first, fellas?” asked Daphne Saffron, as she stood starkers in dorm 6I. Then the door closed quietly behind the departing David Shagton. Now she really was on her own….apart from four of The Six Interr♂gat♂rs. They were similarly attired….or rather, not. “Don’t be shy,” she continued, flexing a hand in menacing fashion, “you’ve nothing to lose but your balls….” none of them made a move, “….are you mere males or mice?” Possibly she should pass the cheese? “I suppose it should be dorm captain’s privilege, Ma’am,” said one of them, finally, “although this really isn’t fair, since it’s a bit like badger baiting….” thanks a bunch, “….and those later in line stand a better chance of winning.” She shook her head. “In the first place,” she said, “I’ve been told one of the unwritten rules at St Stricktlands School is: Don’t Expect Fairness, Because There Isn’t Any. Secondly, I reckon on winning around six bouts….” there were several gasps, “….and since by then we’ll have been back at the beginning again, you’ve just as much chance….if not more.” He nodded. “I’m Howard Izzard, Ma’am,” he said, “normally known as How Hard Is Hard.” He offered her his hand, which she accepted. Then without warning he pulled her roughly towards him. The so-and-so….but she recalled how Shagger had said there were No Rules. Somehow he was behind her, wrapping her own arm around her neck whilst holding her other wrist. “AHHH….bastard,” she shouted, as he gave her a love bite. “OWW..OWW,” he gasped as she stamped on both his feet, really hard. He let her wrist loose, which was all she needed to twist around and turn the tables. “AHHH….” he shouted as she grabbed his gonads good, “….AHHH….MA’AM….AHHH….” she squeezed his scrotum, “….AYEEEEE….I submit, MA’AM….ohh,” he added as she let him loose. “Which was pretty pathetic,” she said with a sniff, “so now it’s time for you to sign away your pride.” She picked up the paper which Shagger had left on the Wankometer, and examined it for the first time.

 

St Stricktlands School Stretch Slave Sheet for: Daphne Saffron 

The undersigned hereby humbly undertakes to bare his balls and accept a suitable   

stretching at any time and any place by his Master or Mistress. The balls should be bared 

completely before the scrotum is stretched. 

 

“Who has a pen?” she asked imperiously, since hers was now outside somewhere in the quadrangle courtyard, complete with her clothes. There was a flurry of activity, and one was handed over. She watched whilst he made what was her second signature, however hopefully his wasn’t likely to be the last this evening. “Now it’s time for you to take the terrible testicle twist,” she said, “to which I was introduced earlier by Rick The Prick’s long-suffering junior fag….” who’d been her first, “….he similarly showed me something else I hadn’t seen before, which is the Position For Pain. I gather it originated from St Templars in Tanningtown?” There was a neat nod, as he spread his legs, bent both knees, and leaned backwards slightly with his hands held behind his back. Even so, his shaft was straining stratospherically. Mere males, she reflected, there was no understanding them. “AHHH….AHHH….AHHH….” he gasped as his scrotum was stretched, “…..FUCKK….” he added, as she rotated his reproductive retort through two right angles. This was the easy part before repeating it, which made it the terrible testicle twist and a total turn, “….AYEEEEE….HEEE..EEEE….I am your stretch slave, MA’AM,” he shouted in a seeming soprano sound. OMG….this was making her so wet. When one of them finally won, and decided to do her with her own dildo, she’d really rather relish the erotic experience. The alternative was to answer any open-ended question which might be put to her….with the clear implication of nothing being off limits.

“Who’d like to try their luck next?” she asked, “I did warn you I was a vicious vixen.” Three faces exchanged glances, although the dorm captain didn’t do so, since he was still nursing his nuts. Finally, one of them stepped forward. “Hi,” he said, waving in the direction of the dorm door, and she shook her head. “An old trick, which won’t work with me,” she said softly, “the thing you forget, is how….” abruptly, she lashed out with her foot, not waiting to finish the sentence….WHUMPP “….UGHHH,” he moaned, clutching at his crotch….SLAPP “….Oww….” SLAPP “….Oww,” he gasped, now holding both cheeks….WHUMPH “….UGHHH,” he gasped as she kneed his nuts and he fell whooping to the wooden floor. “Huhh….huhh,” he moaned, as he writhed in acute agony, “I submit….huhh….MA’AM.” So two down, the second literally so. “What was his name, by the way?” she asked without sympathy. “It’s Orson Ellson, Ma’am,” said one of the remaining pair, “normally known as Or Else.” Fair enough, she agreed. “Give him the sheet,” she said without sympathy, “and sign here….or else, Or Else.” Very witty, she hoped as she watched whilst he struggled to sign in the third space. “Are you strong enough to stand?” she asked without sympathy, and slowly he struggled to his feet into the Position For Pain. “AHHH….AYEEEEE….HEEE..HEEE….I am your stretch slave, MA’AM,” he shrieked soprano at the terrible testicle twist.

Done and dusted, as she considered the last two terrors. Perhaps she too could consider some sort of distraction….a tease, in her case.  “Ohh,” they both moaned simultaneously as she stroked her slit. “UHHH,” she moaned, shutting her eyes for a short second, since the sexual stimulation had hit her harder than she’d expected. When she opened them again, she was straight staring at a single straining shaft. “I’m Lucas Caerphilly, Ma’am,” he said, glancing over her shoulder, “and Look Carefully.” Very fucking funny. “I’m looking carefully,” she said, tauntingly, “and the trick didn’t work last time. Was there anything special I should be seeing?” Suddenly she felt two arms from behind her, clutching her waist and neck. Dammit, the second stud had sneaked behind her whilst her eyes had been closed, and Look Carefully moved forward. “Ahhh….Ahhh,” she gasped as he pinched both naughty nipples. “Ahhh….Shagger said singly or one at a time,” she gasped. “So he did,” he agreed, “however he also said No Rules, so we’ve just rewritten them. Maybe you can manage two against one?” The BASTARDS, however all was not lost. She aimed a quick kick, however he shimmied out of the way before it connected with his crotch. Never mind, she wasn’t beaten yet. She lowered her haunches slightly, and then jumped up, breaking his hold and using her other attacker as a pinion. “OHHH,” gasped Look Carefully, as she locked her legs in a vice-like grip around his neck. She reached around and squeezed a scrotum. “AHHH….” he gasped, letting her loose, and her body fell upside down, “….AHHH….” he repeated as she pulled it towards her head, “….AYEEEEE….” he shrieked as she bit his balls, “…..EEEE….I submit….mercy, Ma’am.” She released them in order to concentrate on Luke Caerphilly, who was still in a neck lock which showed no signs of loosening. Slowly, his legs buckled, and they fell together to the floor. His face was rapidly reddening, and it was clear the end was nigh….in more ways than one. “AHHH….UHHH….I submit….UGHHKK….mercy….MA’AM,” he moaned.” She let him thresh wildly for several more seconds before loosing her legs.

“I did warn you I was a bit of a ball biter….” she said mildly to her other attacker, who was similarly nursing his nuts, “….however you forgot to introduce yourself before trying such a sneaky attack from the rear.” He rubbed himself ruefully. “I’m Lawrence Garfield, Ma’am,” he said, “and hence Elgar….” it took her a moment to work out the witticism, “….and obviously we’ll both sign your sheet immediately….or at least when Luke’s in any condition to do so after being almost asphyxiated.” He struggled to his feet, signed it, and passed it down to his dorm mate. “Huhh….fuck,” said Look Carefully, “I….huhh….honestly thought I’d had it….huhh….but what a way to go.” Which was one way of looking at it, competently crushed by a crotch and a cunt. “I hate to be picky,” she said, “but I’ve still to demand my dues from you two terrors.” Slowly, they stood upright in the Position For Pain, and she grabbed both scrotums at the same time. “AHHH….AYEEEEE….HEEE..EEEE,” they both shrieked soprano simultaneously as they took the terrible testicle twist together.

Then Howard Izzard dusted himself down, his eyes set hard. “We’ve pussyfooted long enough,” he growled, “and enough with fair fights….” or even unfair ones? “….you sodding well know we’re your anatomical inferior….as indeed you’ve so amply demonstrated. So this time we’ll get you by weight of numbers….Bitch.” She watched whilst all four of them advanced on her in a line. “You’re sure you wouldn’t wish to wait until you’ve a full complement of six?” she asked contemptuously, “where are the two prodigals, by the way?” They exchanged glances. “Gym Shoe failed to make it back to dorm after dinner,” replied the dorm captain, “so he’s missing, presumed kidnapped. As for Badly Baldly, he’s on an exeat, owing to his parents taking him to a funeral today, as advised last week. He should be here sometime soon….” WHUMPP “….UGHHH,” he moaned as he fell forward to the floor, whilst whooping in abject agony. “You can always take one with you….” she said, recalling the helpful suggestion made to the cannon fodder foot-soldiers in the British army, “….but I’d strongly suggest you consider cupping your crotches….unless you enjoy being bashed on the bollocks.” Silently, they covered themselves, and the advance continued. Then without warning, Lawrence Garfield and Luke Caerphilly lunged forward. She writhed like a cornered cat, hissing and spitting, as they held her wrists….SLAPP “….oww….” SLAPP “….oww,” she gasped as Orson Ellson slapped her face before grabbing both ankles. Then she felt herself falling as they pulled her backwards down onto the dorm floor. “This is MUCH better….” he said, as the other two sat on her thighs, whilst holding her wrists with two hands, “….spread her legs, chaps.” This time, they had her. “UHHH….” she moaned as her fucked her with his middle finger, “….UGHHHH….UGHHHH,” she added as her gave her a good rendition of the Cunt Claw, curling it around her clit. It was to apply pressure on the pussy, before squeezing soundly. “I strongly suggest you submit….slut,” said Or Else. “Or else….uhhh….what….? she asked foolishly, “….or else it’s the Brutal Bottle Brush,” he replied mildly, even as she shivered. “You wouldn’t dare,” she suggested, contemptuously. “I assure you we would,” said Elgar, “since it’s what we do in this dorm when we want to give wanton wicked wenches a washing work out….” she watched with sick fascination whilst How Hard Is Hard weaved slightly unsteadily down the dorm, “….we give the guilty girls a good going over….” Look Carefully kindly confirmed, “….we scrub suffering slits from the inside,” said Orson Ellson,” as indeed you shall see shortly as soon as Sir returns from the shower room. We keep it there, hidden in plain sight. It’s an item which we inherited along with the dorm, and will pass onto our successors in title next term.”

This wasn’t looking good. “Uhhh,” she moaned as Or Else released her from the Cunt Claw, reluctantly it appeared. Then Howard Izzard returned, holding the Brutal Bottle Brush high. How hard is hard, she wondered wittily whilst she prepared herself for pussy pain. “Spread her labial lips, Orson,” he ordered, “since it’ll make it easier to penetrate the pussy.” She watched whilst he sat on her stomach, taking care to keep his tender testicles out of reach from her teeth. “Ohhh….ohhh….URGHHHH….” she gasped, as it started its slide of suffering inside her slit, “….me cunt….me cunt….URGHHHH….I submit….I submit, Sirs….AHHH….AHHH,” she added as it was removed. “All right,” she said sulkily, “I suppose it’s four open-ended questions….and I’ll graciously agree not to demand my dues again from the dorm captain following his final kick.” He smiled sweetly. “I shall exercise the option of doing you with your dildo….” he said sternly, and picking it up from the Wankometer where Shagger had left it earlier, “….since I can’t copulate your cunt, and you deserve dick….you despicably deviant damsel which bites balls….” fair comment, “….prepare her pussy again, Orson.” At least it would be pleasure this time, rather than pain. “UHHH....” she moaned as she was fucked fondly, and then its battery vibrator action was switched on….zzzzzz “….UHHH….UHHH….UHHH….” zzzzzz “….OMG….I’m cumming….UHHH….yes….YESS.” Would one cum suffice, she wondered?

Æons later, it was clear it hadn’t been. Was it five or six orgasms she’d achieved? “Uhhh….no more, Sirs,” she moaned, her voice a dry husk, “if you want any answers, could I ask you for some water first?” They let her loose, and slowly she struggled up into a sitting position. “Here we are,” said Howard Izzard, handing her a glass, “and be thankful I didn’t throw it in your face. So we’ll have Lawrence’s question first, please.” She took several sips, before using the rest to wipe her forehead, which was soaked with sweat. “I’d be fascinated to find out why such a superlative slut needs a dildo at all?” he said, “since you must have no shortage of studs queuing for coitus?” A reasonable request. “Whilst completely correct about my cute cunt,” she said, “I do enjoy Driving Dubiously Dressed. It’s basically being bare below the belt, shedding skirt shoes and socks….although occasionally also in the altogether. Then I use the dildo to please pussy, since it helps relieve the monotony of long distance car journeys.”

There was a short silence, whilst they digested this deviance. “Speaking of studs,” said Orson Ellson, “and on the assumption you’ve screwed sodding Shagger in his study, perhaps you’d care to tell us a bit about it?” She nodded. “It wasn’t on this visit,” she replied, “but last term, when he’d visited The Stern Maiden, which is where I work as a Waitress….” she shrugged, “….you wouldn’t normally enjoy it at all, since the Customers are the lovely Ladies, and the punters are punished in public….” she wouldn’t bother to mention the Strict Sirs Sessions at this stage, when roles were reversed, “….as I recall, he attended one evening with his protégé….” there were several mutters, “….Horrible Harry,” put in the dorm captain, “….together with a teacher, and also the School Secretary. I whipped H₂O and Shagger during the evening in the dungeon downstairs, and then Miss Whiplash drove dirty David back to St Sticks. If you must know, I was too tired to do anything, so we simply slept in his study until six o’clock. Then he shackled me to his bed, and The Gestapo Guy gave me an interrogation I won’t forget in a hurry….straight up your street, I suppose….?” there were four knowing nods, “….he also applied Naughty Nipple Clamps and the Slut Slit Stretcher from Her Box Of Tricks, with the Clitoris Cropper as a fitting finale before he fucked my fancy.” From their faces, they’d clearly enjoy this sort of scenario. “Horrible Harry once told us something of the sinful stuff inside His Box Of Tricks,” said Howard Izzard, “and I reckoned we could do with one in this dorm, however we’ve probably left it too late. Even so, I shall definitely ensure I’ve one of each available in my study next autumn. They’ll be especially for use on recalcitrant cunts, but I daresay there’ll be opportunities to torment testicles too….and I really like the idea of role-playing the Gestapo Guy. Did sodding Shagger have all the gear….” she nodded, “….a white shirt with black tie,” she confirmed, “together with tricot tunic with wide leather belt. Also matching black breeches, and jack-boots, followed finally by a military style peaked black cap….plus Officer’s crop. But I wouldn’t want you to think I’m simply a subbie, since I nudge ninedy to thirdy in the direction of Domination….” nine dozen to three, “….however, he was able to give my small submissive side an outing. I never hit his hiney, since he honourably undertook his Sex Thrashing On Trust from Nurse Crusher. I should point out I don’t….well, cum cheap, and my cunt currency’s a dozen due….” four faces registered pain, “….so you’ve been let off lightly, by doing me with a dildo.”

There was a second short silence. “Now it’s my turn,” said Luke Caerphilly, “and I’d like to be nosy, and ask you all about your last screw….whoever it was.” She cast her mind back. “It was my day off,” she replied, “and I spent the afternoon at home with Georgie Boy. He’s my employer….” or rather, one of the three owners, “….and also Shagger’s philandering father….” there were several gasps, “….the first few hours were done with his Domestic Duties. Anyway, I hate cleaning the house, and he makes an excellent Maid. He also cooked a romantic dinner for us both, since he’s an excellent chef….” working some shifts at The Stern Maiden, “….with naked waiter service. When I was wined and dined, we adjourned to my bedroom, commencing for his Caning For Cunt. He had over an hour of testicular torments and tool teasing, bound to my bed. Then he took his tongue to my twat, offering me expert oral appreciation and any number of cums, as always. I screwed him in the Superior style, milking his manhood mercilessly, before finally giving him a ruined orgasm. It always serves as additional Put-You-In-Your-Place punishment, since it shows who’s Superior. Finally, I put The Nightwatchman onto us both. As it says on the cardboard carton, it’s stimulated suffering for the scrotum, shaft or slit plus pussy and penile pleasures (or Pain) for you and your partner a dual-action, dual-purpose device offering many different possibilities. So I had pussy pleasure all night and slept soundly, whereas he had pulsing pain every half hour. But it’s what he enjoys, since he’s a supreme submissive who leans ’levendy ’leven….” 143 to 1 in old money, “….utterly unlike Shagger, who’s a sixdy-sixdy switch….” she shrugged, “….which obviously disqualifies your dicks from fucking Fuck Me Senseless, senseless, and becoming Cunt Casanovas. I’ve known several such superlative studs over the years….including Relay, Grim Jim, Leg It and Yosemite Sam.” She hoped to have H₂O similarly next year, but there no need to make him even more unpopular with his peers. “Being Raymond Lee, James Grim, Chris Leggett and Samuel Yeo,” put in Elgar, knowledgably. “Doesn’t Shagger’s Mum mind him having a Mistress?” asked How Hard Is Hard. “Hardly,” she replied, wittily, “since I’m one of many. I’ve no idea of the exact number, although it must be in excess of two dozen. He fucks all the Waitresses at their annual salary review, as stated in their contracts. However, I’m vain enough to think I’m his favourite floozy at the restaurant, since with me it’s markedly more….” she paused, “….does this all help?” There were several nods. “Thank you….Ma’am,” said the dorm captain, “it was all very illuminating, and we’ve learned a lot. Anyway, it’s time you left us, since it’s well after curfew….” she glanced up at the wall clock, and sure enough it was 9.37pm, “….do you know what’s next?” She nodded. “I go and reclaim my clothes,” she confirmed, “and collect a Curfew Caning. It’s before I introduce myself to The Six Milkers, where I have a bed for the night.” Slowly she stood. “I’ll deliver your dildo and Stretch Slave Sheet, Ma’am,” said the dorm captain, graciously, “it’s a perfectly safe procedure, since nobody’s going to kidnap me at this late hour….shall we go?” He picked up both items from the Wankometer. “Goodnight, chaps,” she said to the others as they padded towards the dorm door. He opened it, allowing her to pass first.

“I thought it would be helpful,” he said, “to explain the geography of the quadrangle….unless someone’s already done so for you….” she shook her head, “….when you go out into the courtyard, you need to look for the first set of windows in the second quadrant, because they’re directly below our dorm. I dropped them quite tidily, so they ought to be relatively easy to find. Also they’re pink, which helps. It would be much more difficult, were you one of The Babes In Blue….” fair comment, as they continued along the corridors, “….and one minor point if etiquette is to offer your captain the courtesy salutation of Ma’am when you’re in dorm. She’s almost always in bed A….” nice to know, “….I do have a question, which you’re under no obligation to answer. But it’s as follows: Why are you on a Shagger’s Schoolday Sojourn in the first place? As you’ve admitted, you’re essentially a disciplinary Domme. Yet you’re going to get picked on terribly tomorrow, and comprehensively caned in class.” She was silent for several steps. “You said the answer yourself, Howard….” she replied, as they reached the Level 6 landing, and started down the empty echoing stone steps, “….since it’s called a revisit of the rattan. As a pupil In The Pink, and consequently still in your Year Of Hell, it’s possibly not something you could countenance at present. However, with rose-coloured spectacles being what they are, you may find yourself more amenable to it over time. I’ve already written several dozen Lines, and done an impromptu Detention this evening….with sodding Shagger as Supervisor.” They reached the Level 5 landing, and she gave him a hug. “Mmmm,” he moaned as she kissed him hard for several seconds. “Maybe we might manage a similar Gestapo Guy session in your study in the autumn?” she mused, “although Miss Whiplash would insist on putting you through your paces previously in The Box Room.” She stared at his straining shaft. “It’s a deal,” he said, “a substantial sacrifice, and repudiation of all my principles. However, my willy’s always had a weakness for her….” his and many million mere males, “….so goodnight for now, unless we meet again during lessons.” She wiggled her waist. “Goodnight, Howard,” she confirmed, “so we’ll say au revoir….” she winked once, “….I wouldn’t have offered my virtue, had you thrown the water in my face earlier, so it was a good call.” She’d not thought to ask him for his own disciplinary disposition, but possibly he too harboured some small subbie side? She watched whilst he disappeared towards her new dorm, noting which way he went, since it would confirm the quickest way around the quadrangle. Then she started again, listening to the cries of a Curfew Caning echoing up and down. She was sure Shagger had said something about the best direction….was it with a little lavatorial leaning? No, the word had been lævorotatorial, merely meaning counter-clockwise.

The main school clock tower known as Big Ben had since struck for 9.45pm when she reached the base. Inevitably, there was a big bad boy being beaten by the Curfew Monitor….whose hits she’d been hearing. “Stand up,” she said, “your name and dorm details for my beat sheet.” Slowly, he arose. “Please, Ma’am,” he replied, “it’s Shooter, James, of dorm 6I.” Clearly, this was Gym Shoe, one of the missing members of The Six Interr♂gat♂rs. “So which dorm did you?” she demanded, “Please, Ma’am,” he replied, “it was The Six milkers….unfortunately all girls with grudges, since we’ve….well, interrogated them rather a lot recently. I’ve been completely milked off, but without any orgasm. Hence I was still hard, and failed my erection inspection, Ma’am.” She nodded, “Take your clothes and get to bed, bad boy,” she said, as he picked them up. “I don’t recognize you, guilty girl….” said the prefect as she advanced towards the desk, padding past her peer along the way, “….I’ve seen Surely Serious, so I suppose you’re the second Schoolday Sojourn?” She smiled. “Yes, Ma’am,” she replied, “I’m Saffron, Daphne, of dorm 6M.” At least this was some etiquette she’d sorted….at the cost of many Lines. “So it’s Daffy Saffy?” she asked, to a neat nod, “my name is Shirley Green….with an extra E after the N….” ohh, “….and I’m known as The Green Goddess. Go and get your clothes, and report back here for your Curfew Caning.” The prefect waved the cane towards the double doors, in a gesture rather reminiscent of Shagger earlier, and she padded towards them.

Outside it was dark, apart from a little reflected light from several windows. She scanned the courtyard, and padded towards what she hoped was the second quadrant. Then she looked for the first set of windows, and rooted around. After several minutes, when her eyes had adjusted to the gloom, she saw a pink pile of clothes. Everything appeared intact, except for the shoes, which had both bounced. As she padded around the grass, she reflected upon the pretty prefect. OMG….she was so lovely, light and lithe….as was evident without being a bad boy, or Bi Babe. Was she screwing Shagger, she wondered? Finally she found the first, and then the second. Now it was time for her tush to take another tanning. Slowly, she padded back across the grass to the double doors, and stepped inside to the bright lights. “Put the pile onto the desk, guilty girl,” said the Green Goddess as she arose, “hands behind your head, and let’s have a little look at you….” she duly did so, and the prefect strutted all around her, as though examining a horse, “….naughty nipples, and it seems a soundly swished seat. What HAVE you been doing to deserve so much derrière discipline?” Where to begin? “Please, Ma’am….” she replied, already having the humiliation of a hit hiney from someone else of younger years, “….it started with four from The Headmaster, for wearing high heels out of dorm….” there was a sudden snigger, “….didn’t my darling warn you….?” she asked, and then smiled wryly, “….which is what we call each other in our private parlance.” Interesting, she agreed, now almost certain about screwing. “Yes, Ma’am,” she agreed, “but basically it was a bit of bravado.” Or her own stupid fault, since she’d certainly wanted the whacks, but hadn’t quite expected so many.

Swishhhthwackkkkk     Swishhhthwackkkkk

“Oooh..HOOO….TWO, thank you, MA’AM….” she gasped as two staccato style strokes arrived without warning, “….then it was a straight eight from the prefect Richard Sharp, who’s my fearsome fagmaster….” doubtless with many more tomorrow morning? “….and after dinner I took a tour of the Original Teaching wing with the prefect David Shagton. I was shown Room 20 and 21, and did an impromptu Detention, whilst writing lots of Lines. Including a session in The Box Room, I reckon I received thirty strokes from him….ohh,” she added as her sore seat was stroked with the stick. “Which makes forty two in all,” the pretty prefect agreed amiably, “or thirdy six, as we’d say in dozenal counting....” three dozen and six, “….it’s not your night, since there’ll be another three for failing an erection inspection….” dammit, she’d thought only the dudes had those? “….for naughty nipples.” Uh..huh, guilty as charged….m’Lady. At least none of her previous caners had added any for the further felony.

Swishhhthwackkkkk     Swishhhthwackkkkk

“Yeoowww..OWWW….FOUR, thank you, MA’AM,” she gasped. “Do you know which lessons you’ll be having tomorrow morning, guilty girl?” she asked. “No, Ma’am,” she replied, “I’ve some ideas, but we’re going to discuss them in detail during breakfast.”

Swishhhthwackkkkk     Swishhhthwackkkkk

“Yikes..YIKES….SIX….six of the very best, thank you, MA’AM,” she gasped. “Shagger’s suggested you may wish to attend BSc’s Biology class in Lesson 4,” she said, “since we’ll both be there….playing In The Pink….” really? “….it’s a similar set-up to what you’re doing, and it’s called the Prefects Placement Programme. It encompasses Curricular Correction Classes for two lessons a week, so it doesn’t interfere too much with our A-Level work. But the game plan is for you and Shirley Cirrus to sit with us. We’ve similarly spoken, after I swished her a few minutes ago….” ohh, “….as a Bi Babe, she can stray up my skirt….and then Shop me for the same sin, even though I’m innocent. It’s utterly unfair….but I’ve always had some sympathy for The Apocryphal Schoolboy….” she’d have to find out who he was? “….you can sit with Shagger, and do the same. So you’ll be able to wreak your revenge, by having his fanny flogged in front of the fellas and floozies….” she paused, “….anyway, here’s the coup de grâce.” Colloquially calls the Cut Of Grace.

Swishhhthwackkkkk     Swishhhthwackkkkk    Swishhhthwackkkkk

“Yaroooh..OOOH..HOOO….NINE,” she gasped, “a nasty nine, thank you, Ma’am. I know I’ve naughty nipples, and Been Bothered By Beating….” she paused, “….thank you for sharing so openly with me, Ma’am….I look forward to meeting you again tomorrow.” Would there be more, she wondered? “You may rise, Saffron,” she said, “take your clothes, and get going.” She stood, and saw a pupil-with-penis In The Pink standing staring at her….fully dressed. Surely she hadn’t seen him outside anywhere? “Please, Ma’am….” he said to the pretty prefect, as she padded away, “….I’ve only just arrived, and I have an exeat.” She stopped at the steps, and saw him hand it over. “This is indeed an authorized leave of absence to cover your late arrival this afternoon,” she confirmed, “however, it doesn’t say anything about being Out Of Dorm after curfew this evening....” oops, “….so Knackerpants down, and bend over, bad boy. It’ll be three strokes….” she paused, as an errant erection emerged, “….six, and let’s have your name and dorm details.” He took up the Position. “Please, Ma’am,” he said, “it’s Badderley, Archibald, of dorm 6I.” So he must be Badly Baldly, the remaining missing member of The Six Interr♂gat♂rs. Resolutely, she started up the first flight, listening all over again to the sounds of swishing and echoing cries of another culpable canee. Gradually, they faded as she ascended higher, and then ceased. Finally, she reached what she hoped was the Level 5 landing, and started down into the depths. The first door was for Dorm 6V, and The Six Virgins, so she had it right. She continued into the gloom of the quadrangle corridor, turned a corner past what appeared to be a broom cupboard, and miraculously she’d reached her destination unaided.

 

Dorm 6M 

The Six Milkers 

 

They were known quantities, since she’d met them all previously at The Stern Maiden, and shown them over the Coffee Service Suite. It was where the guests went to be whipped, for their subsequent supply of Whipped Cream. Also, her memory added, the sinful sluts for some of the same suffering on Strict Sirs Sessions. At last, she’d finally be allowed to wear her high-heeled shoes, for which she’d been beaten by the beak earlier, let alone written lots of Lines. Alas, she was simply too tired to care, so she pushed open the door. She padded inside to find five beds in use, with the occupants all reading….clearly the vacancy would be hers. “Good evening everyone,” she said, “and Ma’am,” she added, giving a courtesy curtsey to the figure in bed A, as Howard Izzard had advised. “Good evening….Daphne,” she replied, “we weren’t exactly introduced whilst you were Jillian, and our food Waitress. But thank you for choosing us as your notional dorm, and thus spiritual home. My name is Monica Handler, known as Handle Your Moniker. We won’t worry with the other introductions just now, since it’s almost Lights Out. Were you wanting a shower?” She shook her head. “I ought, but won’t, Ma’am….” she replied, padding towards what must surely be bed B….especially as her overnight bag was at its end, “….since cold water fills me with no enthusiasm. I won’t worry with bedclothes either, since I’m so seriously sore….” gratefully, she lay on it, face down, “….as is evident.” The dorm captain slipped out of bed. “Ouch….” she said, holding her hit, hot and hurting hiney, “….how many, or is the memory too painful….never mind the punished posterior? But I’ve some suitable salve, if it would help?” She nodded, gratefully, as Monica Handler rummaged around in her bedside cabinet. “Ohhh….Ohhh….Ohhh….” she moaned as the cold cream was stroked softly all over her stinging seat, “….I’ve just had this same conversation with The Green Goddess….Ohhh….when it was….” what did she say? “….Ohhh….thirdy six….Ohhh….before kindly adding another nasty nine….Ohhh….presumably making fordy three….?” there was a neat nod, “Well done, Daffy,” she said, “….is she screwing Shagger, Ma’am….?” There were several sniggers, even as various bedside lights were switched off, one by one. “Yes,” the dorm captain replied, “she’s one of his favourite floozies, and has a hard-wired session with him once a week on Monday evenings….rot her non-existent naughty knickers.” Spot on. “….Ohhh….and she mentioned someone called the Apocryphal Schoolboy….Ohhh….am I likely to meet him?” she asked. “No,” replied the younger girl, “he’s fully fictional. It’s based on the sorry saga of the silly sod, who as instructed once reported to his Headmaster for a replacement rattan. But what he actually asked was, ‘Please Sir, my teacher sent me for the cane,’ with the inevitable result.” Oops….she agreed with sudden insight to Shirley Greene’s filthy fantasies. Then the main dorm lights went out, even as Big Ben started to strike for 10pm. “They’re controlled from the Curfew Monitor’s desk downstairs….” said the dorm captain, as she retired back to her own bed, “….so sweet dreams.” She switched off her bedside light as she spoke, and the dorm was in darkness. “Goodnight, everyone,” she said, and various renditions of the same sentiment were returned to her. Whatever else, sleeping on her back wasn’t an option. Welcome to St Sticks….the caning centre of the known universe. She’d always thought St Botolph Hotspurs had been strict, since she’d certainly been serially swished, but never like this. Slowly, she slipped towards sleep.

Suddenly, she became aware of a ghostly figure standing over her. “I didn’t mean to wake you, guilty girl,” he said, “and I’m simply the evening Curfew Supervisor, doing my rounds. My name is Basil Sileas Crabbe….” so surely he was BSc? “….and I’m hoping to make your acquaintance in Biology tomorrow morning in Lesson 4. Do feel free to wear your high heels, should you fancy a further bit of bravado.” She rubbed her eyes, blearily. “Yes, Sir,” she whispered, “the pretty prefect Shirley Greene suggested it, Sir. As she may have mentioned, I’ve already been beaten by the beak about it….but tomorrow’s another day.” He gave her a slight bow, and strode silently away, closing the dorm door quietly behind him. Seconds later, she was asleep again.

She opened her eyes to find Monica Handler sitting on the side of her bed. “Good morning….Daffy,” she said, “I’ve let you sleep in as long as we dare, since it’s almost half past six....” really, she glanced up at the wall clock, and it was indeed 6.28am, “….well past Rise And Shine, but I thought you needed to sleep in a bit, given all your exertions yesterday.” Slowly, she arose. “My Voluntary Victim night with four of The Six Interr♂gat♂rs was a whole lot of roughhousing and wrestling,” she said, “although I understand you had the fifth one in here, Ma’am. By his own account his shaft was stroked, and sent away spunked out. You’ll be pleased to know he still failed an erection inspection, so suffered a nasty nine for his….well, pains.” The other girl nodded. “Thanks for the update,” she said, “dorm 6I have kidnapped us all recently….” so much he’d mentioned, and more a matter of revenge, “….we’ll get the rest over the next couple of weeks. But I’ll just introduce you to the rest of the dorm, before your short shower….” they crowded around her, “….you were in June Pettit’s bed B, since she’s screwing Shagger in his study….probably having petted it, so to speak….” indeed so, “….you were next to Matilda Sergeant….” she shook her hand, “….Matty’s called Massage, as you might expect. On the opposite side in bed D it’s I’ll Ask Her….” pardon me? “….otherwise Felicity Alaska….” a second shake, “….next to her is Florence Adamson….” they shook, “….Sweet FA….” unfortunate, “….finally in bed F is Millicent Cohen….and Millie’s most definitely Milko.” Again, a solid shake. “It’s good to meet you all informally,” she said, “and I hope you learned a lot about the mechanics of male milking?” There were several sniggers. “Shagger said there was something even more serious on the market,” murmured Milko, “The Mean Machine,” said Massage, “I discovered my parents owned one over the half term holiday….” and me,” added I’ll Ask Her, “….and me,” concluded Milko. “Quite correct,” she confirmed, “it’s also a caning machine, which swishes and spunks. It’s utterly evil, although I wouldn’t want one at The Stern Maiden, since it would do away with the need for Miss Whiplash. As some of you already know, it advertises caned cream….which isn’t quite the same as whipped cream, although the penile product is indeed identical….” she paused, “….looking ahead a little to the morning’s lessons, are any of them languages? I’d like a Latin lesson, but my Guardian Angel can’t assist, since H₂O’s a German garçon.” However, he’d probably do Shirley Cirrus, since she was a similar Gretchen. Although on reflection, he might have already done her….in another way, and during her tour.  “Lesson 2 is languages, Daffy,” said Felicity Alaska, “and you’re welcome to sit with me. I’m in Room 219, so either have Harry drop you there, or meet me at the lockers immediately beforehand.” One of which would work. “You should suffer a short shower,” said Monica Handler, “but since there’s only cold water, you won’t want anything else….unless you’re more of a masochist than we thought. It’s supposed to wake you up….except I suspect it’s to discourage anyone from Wasting Water….” plying the pussy pleasurably, “….the shower room’s down at the distant end of the dorm.” She nodded, and padded away. Inside it was seemingly Spartan, and she stepped underneath a spigot and turned on the tap. “Ughhhh,” she gasped as her flesh was flayed. Quickly, she took some soap and lathered herself down as best she could. Her hair would just have to manage for the moment.

After one of the shortest showers she’d had for years, she stepped out and turned off the tap. Then she took a pink towel, noting they were already all damp, by kind courtesy of her dearest dorm mates. Miserably she mopped herself, wondering why cold water was so difficult to separate from the skin? Possibly it was all about evaporation? Finally she was finished, and padded back into dorm. “The others have gone, Daffy,” said the dorm captain, “but I’ll escort you across to the Prefects’ Study wing, or you’ll never find it. For whom are you fagging?” She shrugged. “It’s Rick The Prick, Ma’am,” she replied. “Then best be quick,” said the younger girl, “since his Lateness Regime is one whack a minute….as poor Harry’s rear is reminded regularly.” She took her pile of clothes, and started to dress.

Big Ben was striking for 6.45am when she was finished, and a presentable pupil In The Pink. She picked up her overnight bag, and together they walked out of the dorm. One night here was sufficient to remind her how horrible her own school years had been. She recalled how St Hot Bots had been the same about the supposed benefits of cold showers. “Are there any jobs going at The Stern Maiden, Daffy?” asked Handle Your Moniker as they rounded the quadrangle corridor, “I only ask, in case I flunk my A-Levels, and need a plan B.” A reasonable request. “Not at the moment….Monica….” she said, dropping the salutation since they were no longer in dorm, “….but things do change, and there’s a certain Staff turnover….” she winked once as they reached the Level 5 landing, and started down the stone steps. At this hour they weren’t exactly empty, although they were echoing from the sound of similar fags’ footsteps, “….mostly in marriage, when one of the Waitresses is fortunate enough to pull a premium punter….preferably one who’s well orf, or filthy rich. Money can’t buy happiness, but neither can poverty. However, it’s always easier to manage your mere male when one has a hubby who’s a subbie.” What wonderful wit.

They reached the base, passed the empty Curfew Monitor’s desk, and started into the first of the long, dark cold corridors. “I was on escort duty for one such specimen a while back,” she continued wistfully, “the same evening as Shagger first suggested this Sojourn. It’s Sir Digby Vaillance, who I noted was in your party more recently when I did your dorm dinner. But during my previous date, I was dressed as a pupil In The Pink at his request….so is he connected to the school in some way? It wasn’t my place to ask him outright.” There was a wry smile. “He’s a newly appointed Governor, Daffy,” she replied, “and he’s since engaged himself in several….well, fact finding missions….” really? “….one might call them thus. However, it appears they’re really opportunities to be done by Domme dorms of an evening. He’s occasionally accompanied by Shagger, as indeed you saw at The Old S&M. After any amount of fun and frolics, he retires to his new study, for screwing a selection of sluts.” Nice work if you can get it. “I’d best cross him off my list, Monica,” she said, sadly, “since I can’t compete with unlimited free fuckable floozies, even were I so inclined.” They reached the entrance hall, and followed the crowd up the similar stone steps. “So who’s YOUR frightful fagmistress, Monica?” she asked as they rounded the Level 2 landing. “It’s Madam Miffy,” she replied, “being one of sodding Shagger’s new ménage-à-trois….as he hopes to have for three years at the University of Lancashire….” she paused, “….I mean Myfanwy Smith, who until relatively recently was called Miffy Smiffy. Then she was spotted by one of The Six Sneaks boarding a Roller with a chauffeur….and The Bush Telegraph kicked in immediately. It’s the girls’ grapevine at St Sticks, with a speed of dissemination several times that of light.” So Dorm 6S, which she vaguely recalled padding past a few minutes previously? But it also explained how she knew so many of Shagger’s sordid secrets….or at least personal peccadilloes. “I need Level 5, and study 12, Daffy,” she said, as they passed the Level 4 landing, “so you want one more….” now the footfall of green and pink figures was thinning, “….wait outside Rick The Prick’s study until you hear Big Ben. Be aware the big bastard will beat you if you arrive early, which is something else poor Harry discovered the hard way. I’ll love you and leave you….unless we meet in any classes this morning.” She gave her a sisterly hug, and disappeared into the gloom. Then it was the further flight, and now her turn to walk along another gloomy corridor. Study 13….unlucky for some, as Shagger had said yesterday.

 

Richard Sharp 

Mihi parendum est

 

You Must Obey Me, read the Latin logo, and how highly appropriate for a Dominant dolt. Then the junior fag approached, slightly out of breath. “Good morning….Daffy,” said Victoria, even as Big Ben started to strike for 7am. “Good morning to you, Victor,” she said, “it’s time to face our fearsome fagmaster.” He pushed open the door, and stood aside for her to pass. They both entered to find the prefect standing sternly at his study table, wearing only a black shower robe. “Make a suitable start with my breakfast, Victoria….” he ordered, as she set down her bag by the door, “….and as for you, sinful slut, I may as well have some more work out of you….” yesterday afternoon it had been ironing, “….so off you go into the shower room. Start scrubbing, since I want the cubicle spotless. You’ll find everything you need stored under the sink.” Wonderful….as she headed away. “Yes, Sir,” she said sadly.

It didn’t get any easier over time, and now she’d a fair idea of what housemaid’s knee was all about. Big Ben had since struck three times, so it must be somewhere after 7.45am, and still she scrubbed. Suddenly, she became aware of a robed figure standing over her. “Not bad,” said Rick The Prick, “but not outstanding, and we aim for excellence at St Sticks. So we’ll say one whack, making five when taken with your Farewell Foursome….” somehow, she could see it rising further before she was finished? “….step outside back into the main study.” Slowly she stood, her aching limbs reminding her of all her hard work. She replaced all her brushes and cleaning materials, and then padded after the prefect. There was no sign of Victor Rear, so presumably he’d been dismissed for the duration? “Do you have any high-heeled shoes with you?” he enquired, “and if so, perhaps you’d put them on?” She padded across to her overnight bag, and obliged. “Excellent,” he said, “it’s so much more satisfying swishing a sinful schoolgirl in high heels, since they balance the body further forward….” yes, she WAS aware of it, “….when it’ll be another three strokes for being Improperly Attired….” the BASTARD, “….since as you may know, you’re only allowed to wear them in dorm. Bend over, guilty girl….” she duly did so, seething slightly at the utter unfairness of it all, “….it’ll be staccato style, in pairs.”

Swishhhhthwackkkk    Swishhhhthwackkkk

“Oooh..HOOH….TWO, thank you, SIR,” she gasped, gritting her teeth as her tender tush was tanned all over again, and only a few hours respite from its last assault. “I was privileged to poke a professional prostitute in my study at the start of the Spring Term,” he said, “one Primula Proffer, who starts work today as a teacher….” really? “….fortunately there’s nothing in the rules which stops such sin….at least, for the prefects. Do you know the name at all?”       

Swishhhhthwackkkk    Swishhhhthwackkkk

“Yeeoww..WOWW….FOUR, thank you, SIR….” she gasped, as more memory came to her aid, “….I believe I once saw her at a distance in The Stern Maiden, Sir.” She’d been….err….the prefect David Shagton’s guest, Sir. I was chatting to him….” or up, “….whilst waiting for my own date to arrive….” the noble knight, “….since I was on escort duty at the time. She was on her wicked way to the Coffee Service Suite, which was….” she was interrupted, “….one supposes to support sodding Shagger’s Coffee With Whipped Cream,” he said, “on the assumption it was one of their so-called Strict Sirs Sessions….” he smiled, “….with which I could get MUCH more enthusiastic.”

Swishhhhthwackkkk    Swishhhhthwackkkk

Yikes..YIKES….SIX, thank you, SIR,” she gasped. “However, I digress,” he continued, “since she did give me several home truths après sexe, ones which set me thinking about my phenomenal failures with the floozies….” which didn’t seem to have had much effect, thus far, “….what’s your disciplinary disposition, guilty girl? Are you yet another damn’ Domme? I’d say so, since I suppose you spend your working life beating big bad boys….apart from when you’re whipping them well, and stealing their semen with suction.” She took a deep breath. “I nudge ninedy to thirdy in the direction of Domination, Sir,” she confirmed, quietly. “The same as me,” he admitted.

Swishhhhthwackkkk    Swishhhhthwackkkk

“Yarooo..HOOO….EIGHT….a straight eight, thank you, SIR. Thank you for swishing me so soundly, Sir….I know I needed it.” Hopefully, this should suffice? “You may stand,” he said, and she did so. “How many studs from St Sticks have you screwed?” he asked unexpectedly. “I’d have to spend some time thinking about it, Sir,” she said, “but it’s probably somewhere around a dozen.” There was a short silence. “Is it only the Cunt Casanovas who’ve copulated your cute cunt….?” she nodded, “….so why only them, and not us lesser mortals?” Surely it was the Ministry of the bleedin’ obvious? “It’s because they know to treat Tarts, Sir,” she said, “with an innate ability to give a gal what she wants, never minding their own dirty deviant desires.” He sniffed. “Which was more or less how she put it so pithily….” he said sadly, taking off his robe, and hanging it across the chair. At least they were now equals, so she could ask any Questions without them being caneable, “….for what it’s worth, I’m sorry about the stunt with the high-heeled shoes. I suppose it was really revenge, since it’s the type of trick damn’ Dommes do….” fair comment, “….with one such strict specimen in particular. I still have the hots for her, even though she’s since left school.”

She considered these confessions. “What’s her name?” she asked, more out of nosiness than anything else. “It’s indeed Domme….as she’s now known,” he replied, heavily, “one Dominetta Grizelda Gutteridge. I simply can’t stop thinking about her….even though it’s senseless and stupid, since there’s so much potentially pokeable pussy on the premises.” She smiled. “Do you mean Grizzle Guts?” she asked, “I’ve never met her, though Relay and Grim Jim both talked of her in extremely unflattering terms.” He nodded. “It’s her,” he agreed, “and she was certainly a stuck-up Superior so-and-so super-bitch….” he shook his head, “….but still supremely screwable. She had a terrible tendency to up the ante for her cunt-to-die-for during discipline, demanding two dozen. When her date declined, she threw them out of her study….telling them not to return until they begged for more beating….” he took a deep breath, “….the silly slut even tried it on with Raymond Lee and James Grim. Obviously, they just deleted her in their dalliance diaries….as indeed did all her other potential pokers. So eventually she was left with screwing Sil….I mean the teacher Basil Sileas Crabbe….” he winked once, “….plus Messrs Dildo Dick and Dastardly. Their identities are obvious, and the latter was apparently a slightly spiked punishment penis.” She considered again quietly. “So what happened?” she asked. “Sodding Shagger gave her a Mental Makeover last year,” he replied, “and she’s much happier now….although I suspect with a slightly higher subbie side. Allegedly, she even reduced her cunt currency down to a dozen. She even turned up here last term. Alas, I managed to miss her, as I was away at a University interview. But I might even take a trip to Aberdeen after A-Levels, throw myself at her feet, and beg forgiveness….even though it’s against all my principles.” The same as Howard Izzard. “Perhaps you’d care to give it a dummy run, and explain how you’d go about it?” she suggested, putting on the shower robe, “let me role-play her.” She stood with it open, hands on her hips, and legs spread fetchingly. “So, Richard,” she said sternly, “after all these years, you’ve finally accepted the fact I’m your Superior. Show me you’re sincere, put yourself in the Position for Penance….” one well-worthy of worship, “….arms out, with your adorable arse in the air.” He dropped down instantly. “Be very thankful I’m not one of The Six Sets ♀f High Heels,” she said, “or I’d show you something else with my shoes.” He shivered visibly. “The deviant damsels in dorm 6H kidnapped me a couple of times last year….Ma’am,” he confirmed, “which was exactly what happened. But it wasn’t as bad as with The Six Lezzies. Doms don’t want to annoy anyone in dorm 6L, since they dish dorm dildos up the derrière.” Fair comment, she agreed, since it had been the same at St Hot Bots. Lovely Lezzies could indeed be a complete….well, pain in the arse was putting it politely.

“Perhaps you might please pussy?” she suggested, “as an earnest of intent?” She wondered whether he’d do so? “Most certainly, Ma’am,” he confirmed, “I don’t normally….apart from Mrs Sharp….” what? “….she’s sodding Shagger’s Missus, but he lends her to me on Sundays. Unlimited oral appreciation was always a part of the deal.” So his peer’s largesse knew no bounds, even to the extent of lending out his better half….no, surely one third, to other bad boys? “Uhhh….Uhhh….Uhhh,” she moaned as he gave her several long licks from fanny and fancy to forest. Clearly, he knew what he was doing. “As an….Uhhh….special treat,” she said, “you can….Uhhh….hold my hit hiney….Uhhh….you can stop when I cum….” which wouldn’t be far away….ohh….ohh,” she added as he reached around inside the robe, and stroked her stripes, “….Uhhh….Uhhh….UHHH,” she moaned as he tickled her twat with his tongue and then delved deep. With obvious expertise, he slowly sucked her clit into his mouth. “….UHHH….UHHH….UHHH….” she moaned, “don’t you DARE bite it….” surely he’d take the hint? “…..AYEEEEE….EEEE….FUCK,” she shouted as he duly did so, “OMG….I’m cumming….yes….YESS.” He let her lips loose….SLAPP “….ahhh….” SLAPP “….ahhh,” he gasped, “How DARE you pull such a shockingly sinful stunt on an innocent young Lady….?” he seemed slightly shocked, “….I would like you to do it again.” As indeed Servalan, the Supreme Commander of the Terran Federation, had almost said in the 1970’s Sci-Fi TV series, Blake’s 7. He smiled ruefully, and resumed his indecent activity. “UHHH….UHHH,” she moaned, already on the edge, “YESS….YESS….YESS.”

He sat back on his haunches. “I hope it helps to show my sincerity, Ma’am,” he said. “All right Richard,” she said, “I’ll give you a tumble….heaven knows why, since your desirable dick definitely doesn’t deserve it. You’ll have to take a Sex Thrashing, which I promise not to make open-ended. My cunt currency’s also a dozen due, and you can have half the hits now….” she paused, meaningfully, “….Harry Herbert Orwell can subsequently swish you starkers this afternoon, with Victoria watching the whacks….” she saw a look of horror, “….by all accounts you’ve been leading him a dog’s life all this year, so you should suffer some shame….” she waited for his protests, but there were none, “….although you can ask them from me to be discrete about divulging the details of your discipline. But if none of this finds favour, you can pass up the possibility of poking pussy.” He stitched the so-called swishees’ smirk, as often offered by culpable canees in class. It was the one which says wanly, ‘I know how much my hit hiney will hurt,’ and absolutely apt for the action. “Yes, Ma’am,” he said simply, “I suppose I do deserve it. I suppose it’s not Horrible Harry’s fault he seems so much like sodding Shagger.” She shrugged. “It’s hardly surprising, Richard….” she replied as she gestured him towards the bed, and picked up his cane, “….since they’re cousins.” He turned towards her. “What?” he asked, wildly. “Third cousins,” she confirmed, “although apparently they’ve only just discovered the family connection….” she gave an especially evil grin, “….with one more whack for the caneable Question….of ignorance.”

SWISHHTHWACKKKK    SWISHHTHWACKKKK    SWISHHTHWACKKKK                      

“YEEEE..HEEEE..EEEEE….THREE, thank you, MA’AM,” he yelped.  

SWISHHTHWACKKKK    SWISHHTHWACKKKK

“YEEEE..HAAA,” he gasped, with the Wild West Words, “FIVE, thank you, MA’AM.”

SWISHHTHWACKKKK    SWISHHTHWACKKKK

“YEZZ..YEZZ….SEVEN, thank you, MA’AM. Thank you for my Sex Thrashing, Ma’am, I know I need it….ohh,” he added as she stroked his stripes with the stick. “Turn over,” she said, “and I shall screw you in the Superior style.” He did so, his face one of pure pain as the bedclothes contacted his raw rear. She shimmied up onto the bed, and took his tool towards her twat. “UHHH….damn you, Domme,” he moaned, his eyes closed, “I desperately desire you….UHHH….UHHH….” she leaned over him, and kissed him briefly, “….I love you to pieces, Grizzie Bare….UHHH….” then she started to hump him hard, “….UHHH….UHHH….finally fuck my fancy….UHHH….UHHH….I’m spunking your superb slit….yes….YESS….OMG….YESS….” his cries of coitus pushed her over the edge again, “….YESS….YESS….” she echoed in orgasm, “….Mmmm,” they both moaned as she kissed him again. When the room had stopped spinning, she raised her rear, and his soft shaft slipped out. “Should she show up at St Sticks again,” she said as she jack-knifed off the bed, “I’d strongly suggest you jump straight in. One should never be pusillanimous towards pussy….” or Faint Heart Never Won Fair Lady, as the librettist W S Gilbert so properly put it, “….and invite her out for a romantic dinner at The Stern Maiden….preferably when it’s NOT a Strict Sirs Session. You should be sure to offer her Coffee With Whipped Cream. Say you’d be delighted to do so, as a gesture of your undying love. Either I, or one of the other Milkmaids will whip you well, before you supply some semen. Then she can sup it at her leisure, knowing you’re shackled starkers outside in the car park. Obviously you’ll be in no state to contemplate cunt, since you’ll be spunked out….but I promise she’ll be impressed with your resolve. However, the morrow’s another day, and after you’ve spent the night together, you should enjoy some satisfactory screwing in the morning.” There was a short silence. “Thank you….Daffy,” he said as he struggled to his feet, so Grizzie Bare and Domme were gone, “I’m genuinely grateful for all your assistance, and recommendations….and the superlative screw. We’ll get dressed, and I’ll escort you down to The Canteen. I did the same for Primula Proffer too, in similar circumstances.”

According to the wall clock it was 8.12am when they were both ready. She’d have enjoyed a second shower, this one with hot water, but there wasn’t really time. “After you,” he said, opening the study door. She picked up her overnight bag and stepped outside. They walked together along the gloomy corridor, which was strangely silent since most fags would already have left. Then it was down the empty stone steps, which still echoed from the sounds of distant discipline. At the entrance hall it was back into the long, dark cold corridors. It was no good, she was still completely lost, despite her several visits over the years. Finally, they reached their destination with its double doors. 

 

Duty Canteen Supervisor 

Mortlake Bidston 

 

Or Morbid, one assumed? “Enjoy the rest of your Sojourn, Daffy,” he said, “I hope your hot hiney isn’t hurting too much.” Chance would be a fine thing. “Thank you, Sir,” she replied, “I wish you well with….err….Dominetta Gutteridge, previous prefect.” She mouthed him a kiss, as she stepped forward. Inside it was busy, however since she was relatively late there was no line up. She took a tray, and helped herself to cereal. Next it was the hot food counter, with Millie serving. “One supposes you’re another of Shagger’s Sojourns?” she enquired, “since you seem slightly old for a pupil In The Pink? Presumably you’re not a professional prostitute, as was the previous one?” She shook her head. “Indeed not,” she replied, “my day job is the same as yours, since I’m a Waitress.” She shrugged. “Enjoy,” she said, heaping her plate high. She stepped forward, and helped herself to coffee and toast. Where to sit, even as she saw H₂O and Surely Serious waving from across the room. She stepped across through the noise and hubbub, and reached their table. She put down her bag, followed by the tray to the table. “Ahhh,” she gasped as she sat down, and the really rough raised ridges on the bench reminded her raw rear of its recent rattan. “Good morning, both,” she said, “sorry I was later than expected.” Harry Herbert Orwell nodded, sympathetically. “I suppose Rick The Prick kept you working,” he said, “something which happens to me all the time.” Oops….two and two makes twendy two. “Not exactly….” she said as she started her cereal, noting the others were already on the tea and toast ticket, “….we were screwing, and also having a heart-to-heart chat. I’ve apparently been following in….err….Primula Proffer’s footsteps, and together we may yet make him into a member of the human race. However, your special treat this afternoon will be to conclude his Caning For Cunt….some six strokes, with Victoria watching the whacks.” His face was a perfect picture of radiant happiness. “A year I’ve spent hoping I’d have the opportunity one day to beat the big bastard,” he said, “and I suppose the unwritten rule puts it well: Never Say Never At St Sticks. But I’d be fascinated to find out how you pierced his shell of pride. Presumably it was pussy….as it always is with mere males, somewhere along the line?” Spoken with some insight, she agreed. “He fancies a previous prefect,” she explained, as she started her fried food, “and I’ve provided some pointers with which to help, should she show up again.” She’d leave her identity undefined. “He certainly kept it dark,” he agreed, “everyone knows about Missus, and he was reticent enough about her. But turning towards today, have you any further thoughts regarding classes? I’ve spoken to Shirley, and she’ll be with me for German, since it’s languages in Lesson 2.” She nodded. “I’ll Ask Her’s kindly agreed to be my Guardian Angel for Latin,” she replied, “either meeting her at the lockers….always assuming I can find them, or Room 219. It seems we’re all due to suffer some….is it Silage….?” there was a neat nod, “….for Lesson 4. I shall Shop Shagger for Straying….and I suspect Shirley will Shop her namesake similarly. It’ll be hopeless humiliation, public punishment, and a fitting finale for all the discipline they’ve dished.” Or maybe it might be incorrigible exhibitionism? “I have swimming for Lesson 3,” he continued, “and Shirley will be joining me.” She shivered, and took a swig of coffee to counter it. “Cold water fills me with no enthusiasm,” she replied, “is there any chance of PT instead?” He nodded. “You’re right about the temperature,” he agreed, “since it’s set for 70°F but feels like 40°F. There are always rumours about icebergs seen in the deep end. PT will most likely be taken by Ava Frasch, which means you’ll almost certainly….well, Have A Thrash. She beats both bad boys and guilty girls with equal aplomb, and crops crotches of all colours. But I can drop you at The Gymnasium easily enough during midmorning break, and we’ll meet afterwards for Biology….?” she nodded, “which only leaves Lesson 1. For me, it’s History with Ancient Relic.” She glanced at her colleague in crime. “Sounds fair enough to me, Daffy,” she said, “we can both sit with Harry….and make sure he’s a good boy.” He shivered. “I don’t like the sound of it at all,” he said, “well, maybe I might? It could upset my regular seating partners, but it’s only the once, so I expect they’ll get over it.” She licked her lips, before tackling the toast. “Who are they, Harry?” she probed, “It’s Mitches And Ritches The Bitches,” he replied, “being two of my three proposed ménage-à-quatre at the University of Lancashire in two years’ time….” he paused, “….they’ve been to The Stern Maiden with Shagger, so you may have served them….although I wasn’t with them.” She had no immediate recollection, and may not have been on duty. “We should up and away,” he said, glancing up at the clock, which read 8.41am, “morning assembly starts at ten to nine sharp, and any latecomers are swished….” he took his tray, and arose, as they did the same, “….don’t forget your overnight bags….” they both picked them up, “….it’s tough if you were Last Out of the Canteen in the morning, since one swishing secures a second such. It’s completely in accordance with the unwritten rule: Punishments Propagate, But Canings Can Become Compounded. You know where to take your trays.” The general panic was just starting, as an increasing number of diners decided to do likewise. Thus there was a long queue for the Crockery Collection Cache, as indeed she’d duly discovered during dinner.

Four minutes later, they’d deposited the débris, and were walking quickly through the double doors. “We’re within time….” he said, as they headed down the long, dark cold corridors again along with many others, “….but without much margin. Do remember not to speak at all during assembly….not a whisper or whimper, so beware when you sit down. The prefects sitting behind us are exempt, but anyone else will be spotted and subsequently swished by the Staff. They’re all sitting on the Podium, so they can see everyone easily enough. You’d be beaten in full view of all the younger years leaving the hall, so it’s another form of PWEP….Punishment With Extreme Prejudice. It’s often sufficient to make you late for Lesson 1, which then means one whack for every minute….” hence another example of the same unwritten rule, “….if it’s Amen Carmen leading the devotions, be prepared for a short sermon on sexual sin….which is her favourite topic. Stand when Terrence says All Rise at the end, and wait for the prefects to file out first.” They reached another set double doors, and stepped inside. Harry Herbert Orwell guided them both to what was clearly an area of pink chairs. He selected three spare together, so she set down her bag, and clenched her teeth. AHHH, she thought, grateful for his guidance, as the really rough raised ridges did their worst all over again. Assembly should be short, however it didn’t bode well for ordinary lessons when she’d have to sit and suffer for almost an hour. She glanced up at the clock, and Iain Terrence Hayter rose at exactly 8.50am. “A very good morning to you all….” he said, in a flat monotone, “….and welcome back to the final half term for Year LXXXIX. The Reverend Carmen Jones will conduct our worship.” He resumed his seat, and an obvious Lady of the cloth arose. Not bad booking, she reflected. “Good morning everyone,” she said, “all stand for our first hymn, which will be Thrash Me Throughly.” She picked up a hymnbook from the chair pocket in front of her, and arose. At least her seat would be spared some suffering. She turned to the index to find the page, but H₂O turned her towards the front flyleaf, where the words were pasted. Sourly, she suspected it must be a special St Sticks version of something else? As they started to sing it, more memories of St Hot Bots reminded her of the original. It had been Wash Me Throughly, and cleanse me from mine iniquities.

Big Ben had since struck for 9am, and she’d dozed through the advertised sermon on sexual sins. Her arse was already aching, and they hadn’t even started lessons. Then she realized it had finally finished, and The Headmaster was on his feet again. “I have some important announcements to make, before everyone begins their next exciting instalment on the long road of learning….” he said, with his dreadfully dull and disinterested delivery, making a mockery of the stated sentiments, “….we have the results of two Depositions….well, technically one was a Templar Treatise, though they are identical. Some of you will recall Stainham, James, one of our Exchange scholars from St Templars last term. His suggestion for Naccarim Inter-school Challenge matches have found favour with both sets of Governors. They will therefore kick off, so to speak, during the term….” very droll, “….the same similarly concerns our Sister school. Orwell, Harry Herbert, has suggested the Exchange programme be formalized and even extended. Both ideas are excellent ways of overcoming the long-standing animosity between the two scholastic institutions, still evident in some quarters after ninety years….” whatever had happened must have been bad? “….we will all have a round of applause for H₂O….” there was loud clapping from all quarters, “….I have to advise the arrival of a New Nox….” or Knockers, and he gestured as a fetching floozy arose. OMG….she looked like a Hooker, wearing a leopard-skin version of the leather Tanningtown business suits she’d seen on occasion at The Old S&M, “….this lovely Lady is Primula Proffer….” it HAD been her, as she’d gone to meet her fate in the Coffee Service Suite, “….apparently always known as Prim And Proper at school. However, as many of you are already aware, her previous profession was one of a professional prostitute….” nothing like being frank and open about it, however clearly there was no suggestion of shame, “….she will principally be teaching Latin. I must point out she holds a First Class honours degree in the discipline from Temple College, Cambridge….” there were various gasps, but only from the prefects, “….talking of which, I can confirm her swishing skills are second to none, having taught her myself….” more gasps, “….and so can Shagger….since it was his seat which took her tanning tuition….” this time there was much mirth at the prefect’s expense, “….her trading title was Leopard-skin Lucy. Since she has retained this link with her past, it may become her new nickname….doubtless it will become apparent over time. A further round of applause, please….” this was given, with obvious enthusiasm from the bad boys, “….finally I advise the arrival of two further Schoolday Sojourns for Shagger….” his absolute avoidance of the humble apostrophe was apparent again, “….being Cirrus, Shirley of dorm 6B, who may occasionally be up in the clouds….” very fucking funny, and doubtless she’d had the witticism thrown at her often enough at school, “….one of The Six Bi Babes for reasons which are self-evident, and known as Surely Serious. Her companion in crime is Saffron, Daphne, of The Six Milkers….” he smiled, “….Daffy Saffy, though not at all so, having had access to her academic achievements….” yesterday afternoon, whilst being beaten by the beak, “….and Cirrus is the same. They will be attending lessons until lunchtime. I use this opportunity in wishing all our O- and A-Level scholars every success in their examinations, which will be starting next week….” she was highly happy to have those hells well out of the way, “….all rise.” She picked up her overnight bag, as did Shirley Cirrus. Then the prefects began filing out. Soon, it was the pupils In The Pink, and suddenly her way was clear. “Well done,” said H₂O as they passed the safety of the double doors, “we’ll just flit by the lockers to collect my bag of books, and then it’s Lesson 1.

* * * * * *

The last time she’d seen a clock had been in the PT changing rooms, and it had been 12.06pm. They’d collected Shirley Cirrus, and had proceeded with as much haste as they dared back to the Teaching wings. She recalled how Lesson 1 had started well, but then gone rapidly downhill. They’d both Shopped poor Harry Herbert Orwell, who’d been swished for Spying Up Skirts. Eamonn Renwick had taken their fraudulent claims at face value, since innocent young Ladies were always believed implicitly. However, he clearly didn’t believe a word of it. He’d made this perfectly plain when giving the class a test paper, and put their pass mark much higher than everyone else’s. They’d failed rather badly, and been beaten similarly so, with some six and seven serious stingers. Lesson 2 had been Latin, with Primula Proffer. As for PT, she wouldn’t think about it just now. They walked along the final corridor, to where Shagger and The Green Goddess were waiting for them.

Room 233 

 

“Two delightful damsels, delivered in good condition, Sir,” said H₂O, apparently unable to shake off the salutation, even though they were all equals. “Let’s do this….darling,” said Shirley Greene, in her somewhat soft sensual soprano, “I’ll sit with Cirrus, and you Saffron. Who are you with, Harry?” Would it be the witticism? “Apart from the Woolwich….” he replied as they all stepped inside, and offering the allusion to the building society of old, “….it’s Racy Tracy….Theresa Rhys, the remaining member of my ménage. “Ahhh,” she gasped as she sat down next to Shagger on an otherwise empty bench, and Have A Thrash’s many ministrations returned with a vengeance. “Is this where we have our little treat….Shagger?” asked a surly specimen, suddenly standing staring down into his eyes. “Indeed so, Rolled,” he confirmed, “as promised….and I always deliver. All three of The Six Nasties in this class should be able to watch my whacks….and also knacker my nuts at some point in the proceedings. Now be a good chap, and bugger off….” a reddening of his face confirmed receipt of the insult, and he bristled away, “….which was Rolled Gould….spelt R-O-A-L-D….” ohh, “….as in the ancient author….” who wrote somewhat strange stories, she recalled, “….he and his firm friends are in dorm 6N, as I indicated….” he’d said yesterday how he rarely got on well with anyone in the N series, “….you’ll note how he and The Gods Themselves are sharing a bench. It’s probably because no pretty pupils will sit with them….?” he paused, “….Godfrey Fearing and Godfrey Roth.” Presumably the collective nickname was taken from an old quotation….the one about contending in vain against stupidity?

“All rise….” said a villain’s voice as Basil Sileas Crabbe entered the room, and her muscles obeyed automatically at his imperious command, “….you may sit….those who feel able to do so, since this is Lesson 4….” got it in one, but at least it was her last. There’d be no respite for the pupils properly In The Pink, who’d have to contend with afternoon school, with further fagging and flogging as a fitting finale. “Ahhh,” she gasped, a sentiment echoed by almost all the other scholars. Any lingering doubts about how lightly she’d been let off at St Hot Bots were now gone for good. She watched as he set down his bag of books onto the teacher’s desk, followed by his cane, “….a warm welcome to two sometime sinners on the Prefects Placement Programme. They will be with us for their Curricular Correction Classes, until the end of this term. They hardly need any introductions, since it’s Shagger and The Green Goddess….” there was mild mirth, “….however it’s also my lucky day. We also have his Schoolday Sojourns, as introduced by Terrence during assembly. Welcome to my class, lovely Ladies, and we’ll make a start.”  

Several minutes later, she had to agree he knew his stuff. She’d only taken the subject to O-Level, and been happy to leave it there. Anyway, now it was time to wreak her revenge on sodding Shagger. Slowly, she slid her hand up his left leg. He shivered slightly, but stayed silent. “Ohh….” he whispered as it connected with his crotch, “….ohh,” he added as she squeezed his scrotum softly. “You had something to say, Shagger?” asked the teacher at once. “No, Sir,” he replied. “What about you, Saffron?” he asked. “Please, Sir,” she said slowly, “he was Straying Up Skirts, so I needed to knacker his nuts.” There was more mirth, as Shirley Cirrus raised her hand. “Yes, Cirrus?” he asked. “Please Sir,” she said, “it’s the same with me, Sir….except obviously I’d no nuts to knacker, so I had to content myself with some slit squeezing.” This time there were loud guffaws from the bad boys. “Do either of you wish to deny these accusations?” he asked. As if, she reckoned, since at St Sticks such denial merely meant doubling the dose of derrière discipline. Several Cunt Casanovas had set her straight on the subject, “No, Sir….” said Shagger, “….guilty as charged, Sir,” added Shirley Greene, perjuring herself similarly. “Strip starkers,” he ordered, “then step out here. We’ll start with the standard six strokes for Straying. You can stand next to each other, presenting your posteriors plainly. She watched whilst they duly did so….two tempting targets ready for receipt of the rattan. Everyone else in the room already had really raw rears.

Swishhhthwackkk    Swishhhthwackkk “….Ooo..HOO,” he said flatly, clearing claiming canees’ privilege….Swishhhthwackkk    Swishhhthwackkk “….Ooh….HOOH….” she echoed, “….TWO, thank you, SIR, they said in unison. Most likely, they’d taken tannings together in the past? Somehow, Shirley’s strokes had sounded like sex, even if she wasn’t an OO girl?

Swishhhthwackkk    Swishhhthwackkk “….Oww..WOWW,” he gasped….Swishhhthwackkk    Swishhhthwackkk “….Oww..WOWW,” she echoed, “FOUR, thank you, SIR.”

Swishhhthwackkk    Swishhhthwackkk “….yikes..YIKES,” he gasped, “SIX, thank you, SIR. I know I’m a cocky little blighter which strays up skirts, Sir.” Swishhhthwackkk    Swishhhthwackkk “….yeowww..OWW,” she gasped, “SIX, thank you, SIR. I’m similarly so, Sir, and should be swished, Sir.” What about erection inspections, she wondered? “Have you both been Bothered By Beating….?” he asked, to two neat nods, “….then another three each, for the further floggable felonies.” Oo..er, she reflected, even as she tweaked her own tits. Watching the whacks was somehow so sexually stimulating.

Swishhhthwackkk    Swishhhthwackkk    Swishhhthwackkk “….Yarooo..OOO..HOO….NINE, thank you so much, Sir,”  Swishhhthwackkk    Swishhhthwackkk    Swishhhthwackkk “….yikes..YIKES..YIKES,” she gasped, “a nasty nine for me too, SIR. I know naughty nipples meant more whacks.” Well spoken….to keep a cool head with a hot bot. “You may stand,” he said, “and face the class. How do we handle cocky little blighters?” She saw a small smirk. “Please, Sir,” said Shagger, “we humble and humiliate them….” a second such from Shirley, “….putting them properly in their place, and showing them who’s Superior, Sir.” SNAPP….the teacher snapped his fingers, “Step out here….our contingent from The Six Nasties. They can do something useful for a change. We’ll start with Shagger….with The Gods Themselves holding his arms, whilst he stands in the Position For Pain. Rolled Gold can stretch his scrotum soundly, since I’m sure he’ll have signed your sheets during his Rustication last autumn….” Shagger nodded, “….then you can change places, until all three of you have given his gonads a good going over.” She watched whilst he adopted it, and his shaft strained in anticipation of the agonies. “AHHH….AHHH….AHHH….AYEEEEE….I am your stretch slave, SIR….ohh,” he added as he was released. Then it was the others’ turns. “AHHH….AHHH….AYEEEEE….I am your stretch slave, SIR,” he said to the first Godfrey, “AHHH….AHHH….AYEEEEE….I am your stretch slave, SIR,” he concluded to the second. “Let him loose, lads,” said Basil Sileas Crabbe, “and turn your attentions to our second sinner. Hold her the same way, and you can each give her a quick cunt claw.” Her heart thumped as she watched The Green Goddess’ highly public humiliation. “URGHHHH....you are my Superior, SIR,” she gasped, as they changed places, “URGHHHH....you are my Superior, SIR,” she repeated to each of The Gods Themselves. “Back to your bench, bad boys,” said the teacher, “not so fast, Shagger….since I’m not finished with you yet. Saffron can step out, and she too can tweak his testicles….” with the greatest of pleasure, as she passed them, and strutted out to the front, “….uh..huh….high heels are only allowed in dorm….” she saw Shagger smile, “….however you may have your fun first.” She took of his testicles, and started to squeeze his scrotum. “AHHH….AHHH….AHHH….AHHH….AYEEEEE….me balls….I submit, MA’AM….” she shifted her hold, “AHHH….AHHH….AHHH….AYEEEEE….I am your stretch slave, MA’AM.” Slowly, he straightened, although his shaft was still similarly so. “Bend over, and bare your bottom, guilty girl….” he ordered as she flipped up her pleasingly pleated pink skirt, “….oops….no naughty knicks, which is a further floggable felony. Then there’s the not-so minor matter of massaging your mammaries….” he must have eyes in his ears? “….clearly there’s a certain amount of excitement, so we’ll say makes it a nasty nine….Cirrus, is it the same sordid situation with you?” Surely Serious nodded sadly. “Yes, Sir,” she said, “it was basically a bit of bravado….plus I simply couldn’t face any panties at present, since my seat’s so sore, Sir….” not half as much as it would be, very shortly, “….we’ll have you out here as well….” he waited whilst Shirley Cirrus arrived, “….bend over, and present your posteriors for plenty of peremptory punishment pain.” How are the mighty fallen? She’d gone from being a happy observer to recipient of the rattan in a matter of minutes.

Swishhhthwackkk    Swishhhthwackkk    Swishhhthwackkk “….yeee..HEE..EEE….THREE, thank you, SIR,” Swishhhthwackkk    Swishhhthwackkk    Swishhhthwackkk “….yikes..YIKES..YIKES….SIX, thank you, SIR,” Swishhhthwackkk    Swishhhthwackkk    Swishhhthwackkk “….yarooo..OOO..HOO….NINE, thank you so much, Sir….” what was next? Yes, complete contrition, “….I’m so sorry, Sir.” Her mind had gone to mush, but hopefully this should suffice? “You’ll notice her high heels balanced the body further forwards, class,” he said didactically, “and enabled a tighter angle of attack. It’s one reason why flogged floozies’ fannies feature in so many porn publications.” Yeah, yeah.

Swishhhthwackkk    Swishhhthwackkk    Swishhhthwackkk “….yeee..HEEE..EEEE….THREE, thank you, SIR,” Swishhhthwackkk    Swishhhthwackkk    Swishhhthwackkk “….yeouch..OUCH..OUCH….SIX, thank you, SIR,” Swishhhthwackkk    Swishhhthwackkk    Swishhhthwackkk “….yikes..YIKES..YIKES….NINE….a nasty nine, thank you, SIR. I know I needed it all, Sir.” She saw the prefects smiling, and holding hands….damn their disciplined derrières. “Back to your benches, all of you,” he growled, “we’ve wasted quite enough time today as it is….” she wouldn’t pursue her thoughts as to the whys and wherefores, “….a dozen Lines for each prefect: I must not try to shift the blame for my beatings onto my teacher. Have them delivered to my study by nine o’clock this evening.” So it was something she’d had right, at any rate. He put down his cane, and strode across to the blackboard.

* * * * * *

According to The Canteen wall clock it was 1.28pm. She was sitting sipping her second cup of coffee with Shagger and the two Shirleys. Both prefects were still playing The In Pink, and he’d signed her Stretch Slave Sheet. H₂O was at a separate table, complete with his ménage. He should go far, since with only one more he’d reach the same lofty level as Derek Flint. The super-stud secret agent from the swinging sixties had a harem of four permanent playmates, and had finished the first film with five. Then she had a thought. “What was the problem with Tanningtown Templar, Shagger?” she asked, “since Terrence alluded to it this morning?” He smiled, “For chapter and verse,” he replied, “you need to read the official school biography entitled St Stricktlands: A History….spelled with a long S in the last word….” ohh, “….which is lodged in The Library. The Four Founders upped sticks….almost literally, since the tawse was universally used at St Templars. They wanted a conversion to the cane, but the Governors sacked them. So they started this school, leading to the continual carping complaint about St Sticks having stolen everything from shirts to shorts and sheets. Old animosities die hard, and we’re still on the dregs….however Harry’s and James’ initiatives should both help the process of reconciliation….” he paused, and drained his cup, “….I’m sure you’ve both accumulated a store of….well, stories….” what wit, “….and I hope you both enjoyed your experiences at St Sticks….erotic and otherwise….” they both nodded, knowingly, “….I wasn’t sure whether either of you would get laid….” which they had, “….so to cover the eventuality of failure, I made arrangements for you yesterday to visit Stern Hall on your way home, if you wish. It’s The Professor’s home, he of Thrings Things fame….” he mopped his mouth, “….I remember Daffy and I once talked about them in my study, and you said you’d never seen them in action….so now’s your chance….” he stacked his plates, and they all followed his lead, “….take your trays to the Cache….” they also picked up their overnight bags, “….and I’ll escort you across to the Staff car park….on the assumption you illegally left it there….?” she nodded, with slight guilt, “….should you visit the school just before the end of the Spring Term, someone will be happy to hand you Hot Cross Buns….” he deposited his débris, “….spelled with an M, not N….” ohh, “….they’re diagonal derrière discipline….” hence the cross? “….to cover all the culpable crimes with which you’ve got away during the year.” A thoroughly therapeutic thrashing, she agreed. “I’ll catch up with you later,” said Shirley Greene, as they passed through the double doors, “so screw you soon, darling….” there was a slight snigger, “….and you too….darling,” muttered Shirley Cirrus, ever the Bi Babe. “Ohh,” gasped the prefect as her cheek was stroked softly, so clearly she’d felt some sort of static shock. “I might be able to….well, fit you in with a session somewhere when we’ve our A-Level exams out of our hair….darling,” she replied, “so I’ll contact you if it’s the case.” She mouthed her a kiss, winked once, and departed down another corridor.

Sod it, she was still hopelessly lost within seconds. Several minutes later, she recognized what she thought might be the side exit door? Shagger opened it, and stood back. Then he followed them into what was indeed the incorrect car park, so to speak. Sure enough, DAF 1E was still where she’d left it. Could it have been only yesterday? “Goodbye, guilty girls,” he said, “and thanks for….well, cumming….” SLAPP “….Ahh….” SLAPP “….Ahh,” he gasped as they each slapped his face. “It’s as well we’re Waitresses,” she said, “since sitting won’t be a particular pleasure until at least tomorrow morning. I don’t say we didn’t deserve discipline, and we WERE warned. Though on balance I’d prefer more penis and less punishment. I’ll stick with my system of overnight screws in the studies of Cunt Casanovas….starting with your cousin next September. In the meantime, all the best with your exams, and I hope you like Lancashire.” She hugged him hard, as did her colleague in crime. Then they put their bags into the tiny trunk of the Fiat X1/9. “Ahhh,” they both gasped as they sat down, and were reminded of really raw rears. Shagger waved once, and then headed back to the buildings. She started the engine, and seconds later they were accelerating along the main carriage drive. “Are you up for a work-out with a patent electro-mechanical fucking machine, Shirley?” she asked, as they reached 70mph. She was silent for some seconds, as they reached the imposing wrought-iron arches of the main entrance gates, and turned onto the B1469, “Let’s go for it,” she replied, “whilst we have an opportunity.” Very shortly, she spotted the faded sign up ahead, half hidden by bushes. She’d passed it often enough, after all.

 

To Stern Hall 

Trespassers will be thrashed 

 

She turned off the public highway, and along a narrow driveway, which culminated in a courtyard. Even in daylight the building seemed dark and forbidding, and seemingly seriously Gothic. “I won’t bother to lock it, Shirley,” she said with forced lightness, as she switched off the engine. They stepped out, and approached a dark door with heavy hasps and handles.

 

Beware of the scrotum snatchers  

Burglars’ balls may become serrated, severed, separated or squashed 

 

“You were right about the car, Daffy,” said Shirley Cirrus, “I can’t imagine this little lot as a tempting target for Burglar Bill and his cohorts….” she pushed gently, and it creaked open at her touch, “….it ought to feature in a Hammer horror film.” Fair comment, she agreed as they stepped inside, and followed a line of flaming torches down a long narrow passage. “Fuck,” she whispered, “we’re the flies for the spider….or maybe we might meet a Minotaur?”

Then they emerged into the large dungeon. “A very good afternoon to you both….” said a formidable figure, with brilliant white hair, “….and a warm welcome to my factory floor. My name is Professor Wodin Tiberius Thring, and I am delighted to be of service to such lovely Ladies. Your names have already been given to me by the School Secretary….” he bowed graciously, in the same way a torturer would do to his new victims, a situation which wasn’t far off fact, “….may I ask if Shagger has outlined your….shall we say, fate worse than death?” She shook her head, and shivered. “No, Sir,” she replied, “he’s alluded to it, as have several previous prefects in the past, but no dirty details….” she paused, “….actually, we do have one of your machines now at The Stern Maiden, in the Coffee Service Suite. Alas, it’s only for use during Strict Sirs Sessions, when there’s a Milkman doing the rounds….so to speak….” what wonderful wit? “….the rest of the time it’s locked away, when we Waitresses aren’t allowed anywhere near it.” He smiled widely. “One way forward would be a suggestion to your Management about its possible use for gay guys,” he said, “since it is possible to arrange it for anal activity….” a good plan, and she should suggest it to Georgie Boy….preferably when he was next begging for his balls, “….albeit a procedure not my personal preference. However, the initial idea is to establish whether you are sex sluts. This is when you take a time of twat teasing, and frustration fun. Afterwards, you are allowed to cum as you wish, or be screwed senseless.” She stroked her skirt where she shouldn’t. “Might I skip the first, Sir?” she asked, “since I’m obviously a slut….and a pussy pain one as well. Do you have anything for such seriously sinful specimens?” He nodded. “I have a substantial selection for such suffering, my dear,” he said, “since they are very popular products, and I am always being asked for them. But what about Surely Serious? Is she the same?” She shook her head. “I’ll forgo the frustration too, Sir,” she said, “but I prefer pussy pleasure to pain. Could my Position For Penetration be arse in the air, rather than flat on my back? It’s just one of my subbie side’s personal peccadilloes. When I’m shafted by a Superior Sir, I enjoy some subservience to a real Wham-Bam-Thank-You-Ma’am man.” Such a shame she hadn’t been allocated to Richard Sharp, who’d have been happy to help. “Every permutation is possible,” he said, “although it may mean missing the Mechanized Multi-stranded Mammary Minute Martinets, which are somewhat like spinning tops. They are for flaying the flesh at the start of each cycle, and ensure naughty nipples stay sensitively stimulated.” Daffy Saffy held her chest, her heart thumping. “Bring ’em on Sir,” she said. “They can still strafe my shoulders, Sir,” said Shirley Cirrus, “although another time I wouldn’t mind them as a posterior punishment. However I’ve been comprehensively caned during the course of my Sojourn, so it’s a pleasure I’ll pass.”

He pointed towards two sleek black benches, clearly Combination Locks as she knew them to be called. “If you would care to remove your clothes, my dears,” he said, “then we can begin. Should you wish to be shackled, obviously I can oblige, but there is no necessity if you are not bondage babes.” They both shock their heads as they stripped, folding their pink uniforms into two neat piles on the floor. He busied himself with two machines either side of her bench, presumably the rotating tease-whips? “Ahhh,” she gasped as she lay down, and BSc’s beating took its toll. She glanced at Surely Serious, who had adopted the Position for Penance with her legs spread. Then he attached several small sternum pressure pads to them both, and connected cables to the control console. “These merely monitor your metabolism….” he said as he positioned the poking poles, “….and also the Martinets, in order to ensure they stay synchronized. As you know, I have a huge selection of patent phalluses available to suit all slits….” he rummaged around, “….the Thrings Things. I think The Brutal Bottle Brush would work well with you….” again, “….and The Submissive Special for Shirley.” Carefully, he affixed them to the poles, and then moved them forward to their fancies. “Uhhh….” she moaned as it parted her labial lips, “….uhhh,” added her colleague in crime likewise. “There is a selection of settings,” he continued, holding the console for them to see, “would you prefer the Speed Controller to Slow Screw or Fast Fuck?” Shirley Cirrus smiled. “Fast for me, Sir,” she said, “I want to be given the gun,” ….slow, Sir,” she added. “I have set the Penetration Controllers to seven inches….” they both shivered, “….finally, it is your choice of cums….unless you wish Fuck To Faint?” She shook her head. “We’re both on duty at the restaurant later, Sir,” she said, “which is an hour’s drive away, and we have to be in reasonable shape. The twat torment’s terrible, so I’ll take two, Sir,” ….can you turn me off after ten, Sir,” said Shirley Cirrus, “but my cums should be much quicker, and may mean we finish fucking at about the same time?” Good thinking, as he pressed the On button.

“Uhhh….Uhhh….Uhhh….screw me, Sir….uhhh….uhhh,” moaned Shirley Cirrus as her fancy was fucked fast and furious. Then the Martinets started up, “AHHH….AHHH,” she gasped in pure pain….plus pleasure. They stopped spinning, and her poking pole began its wicked work. “URGHHHH….” she gasped, since it was the same sensation as when Howard Izzard had fucked her fancy with one the previous evening. However his had been manual, not by means of an uncaring, unthinking machine, “….URGHHHH….” OMG….it was awful, it was terrible, “….URGHHHH….” so why was she enjoying it so much? “….URGHHH….me cunt….” because you’re a pussy pain slut, her personal demon replied, “….URGHHHH….I’m cumming….I’m cumming.” Then all was silent, except for Shirley Cirrus. “UHHH….UHHH….UHHH….YESS….YESS….four, Sir….uhhh….uhhh….don’t stop, Sir….UHHH….UHHH….YESS….five, Sir.” Then the Martinets started all over again. “AHHH….AHHH….AHHH,” she gasped, “I’ve always had such NAUGHTY nipples, Sir….AHHH….AHHH….AHHH.” She gripped the bench with both hands in defence against the indecent assault which would follow very soon. Sure enough, “URGHHHH….” she gasped, her world wavering at the intense indignity of it all, “….URGHHHH….the pain….the pleasure….I need to be put in my place….URGHHHH….” as indeed she’d been during her Sojourn, and her small submissive side wouldn’t want another outing for some time, “….URGHHH….” or to put it another way, it wouldn’t get one, “….URGHHHH….I’m done for….YESS….YESS….YESS….” the metabolism monitor switched off the machine at once, “….fuck….fuck….fuck,” she moaned as the room revolved. “UHHH….UHHH….UHHH,” she heard Shirley Cirrus through a haze of post-orgasmic pleasure, “….TEN….UHHH….TEN….UHHH….sodding switch it off, Sir….UHHH….” then it too fell silent, “….huhh,” she added as the pole was withdrawn. “AHHH,” she gasped as The Brutal Bottle Brush was extracted, with everything it entailed.

Slowly, she stood up, even as Surely Serious shimmied off her bench. “I assume you partook luncheon before leaving the school,” he said politely, “but tea and biscuits are available before you start your journey.” She shook her head. “Thanks for the offer, Sir,” she said, as they both picked up their blouses, “but I think we ought to get going, since we start the evening shift at four o’clock. I don’t know about Shirley, but I’m really rather randy, so some Driving Dubiously Dressed wouldn’t go amiss….especially with such raw rears.” Not to mention tingling tits, so she wouldn’t worry with a bra, either. “Me too,” the other girl agreed, as they put on their blouses, ties and jackets, which would do the job. “Thank you for your kind hospitality, Sir,” she said cordially, and offering him a hand, which he shook. “Similarly, Sir,” said Surely Serious, shaking similarly. He gave them another bow, and they padded out of the dungeon, holding their depleted piles of clothes. Then it was past the flaming torches again until finally they opened the dark door into the courtyard. “A diversion with a difference, Shirley,” she suggested as they climbed into the car. “Ahhh,” they both gasped in unison. She started the engine, and retraced their route along the narrow driveway back to the B1469.

“My only regret,” said Shirley Cirrus, when they’d been going several miles, “was of not screwing Shagger….unlike some others I might mention have done in the past….” oops….like her, “….I did discuss the matter this morning with Rat Conman….” her fearsome fagmaster for the Sojourn, “….who told me all about how hopelessly congested is his Cute Cunt Calendar. Apparently there are no spare slots left before he leaves school. As you might imagine, it was more a matter of jealousy than anything else. But he’s a complete cretin, as well as a Dominant dolt….no offence, Daffy.” Spoken as a sixdy-sixdy switch. “None taken,” she replied, “however the matter’s easily remedied, by some subterfuge. I saw how well you’d ingratiated yourself with The Green Goddess when saying our goodbyes, and how she sort of suggested a session. If you weren’t already aware, Shagger has a hard-wired slot with her on Monday evenings. Therefore my sinful suggestion is you phone The SS, and ask her to sound out your namesake about shoehorning yourself into one. Then her slot can become a Bi-some threesome….which means you should sample his seven inches of circumcised sin….” she sniggered softly, “….it’s similar to Georgie Boy’s, for fairly obvious reasons. Shagger switches, the same as you, so you could also indulge your subbie side. Also, you can borrow my car for the night.”

There was a long silence, as many more miles passed, and she wondered what she’d said? “I never liked you a lot, Daffy,” she said, slowly, “but now I think more clearly about it, I’ve been suffering a certain amount from the green monster too. It’s your dratted dalliances with Georgie Boy, which seem to happen every second Sunday. I fancy him furiously, yet I’m not one of his favourite floozies, hence I only have him once a year. But your suggestions of how to screw Shagger were really appreciated, and the car. So I hereby withdraw all the horrid things I’ve thought about you in the past. I can’t ask you for a hug….at least not until we reach The Stern Maiden. But we can do a quick flash together across the car park, if you’re up for a little exposure and exhibitionism. We can easily beat a retreat inside the tunnel leading to the Coffee Service Suite. It should be easy enough to change in the Staffroom before we start work….” she shivered, “….I too am glad I work as a Waitress, as you said to Shagger.” Daffy Saffy smiled slightly. “It may be the guests this evening enjoy staring at our stripes,” she said, “which will mean more derrière discipline dished in their direction. Anyway, we’ve still over half an hour of travelling time. Ordinarily, I’d use my dildo, but at the moment my poor pussy’s far too painful. Perhaps we can exchange experiences from Lesson 3? Would you like to hear some highlights about Have A Thrash?”

Her colleague nodded. “We’ll start with when we separated,” she said, “when I went with H₂O into the Swimming changing room. It was a slight shock to discover it was unisex, and I daresay the PT ones were as well….?” she waited whilst she concentrated on overtaking a large lorry. Alf’s TransporT : surbiton had been blocking her for several miles….BEEP she honked at it, as they both offered two fingered salutes through the windows….BEEEEEEP was the furious response, “….bliss for a Bi Babe, with so many pussies and pert posteriors….” she patted her nude knee in familiar fashion, and winked once, “….except studs are swished for Staring At Sluts’ Seats, and Slits. You must have seen our Swimming costume….?” she’d not looked at it, “….a special design for St Sticks, it seems. Whilst completely covering the cute cunt and tantalizing tits, it’s no more than a thong at the rear, hence ideal for punishment purposes. It’s also excellent for Teasing Tools….much the same situation as at work. However, the studs swim starkers….” she paused, “….how did you get on in PT? I saw some sort of special uniform, though I haven’t had a chance to examine it carefully.” She marshalled her thoughts, as they continued along the A1690.

She passed under an open archway, devoid of doors, and set down her overnight bag onto a slatted wooden bench next to Felicity Alaska, and quite close to the Contingency Cupboard. Its Latin logo was curiositas occidit cattus....or Curiosity Killed The Cat. “Hello, Flick,” she said, “I thought I’d try a turn at PT.” The other continued stripping, placing her pink clothes onto a peg. “It’s a passion you’ll soon lose, Daffy,” she replied, “since Have A Thrash believes in equal opportunities for the guilty girls….” so where was the problem? “….which means you’re in trouble with naughty nipples….” oops, “….her dratted gym uniform gives the game away. It’s spelled G-I-M….” ohh, “….standing for Garments Inciting Misery, and quite close.” Quickly, she too removed all her clothes, and hung them likewise. “Exhibit A,” said I’ll Ask Her, “are Shaming Shorts….” they both put them on, “….they’ve cut outs at the back, for the purposes of posterior punishment, plus cunt-outs at the front….” she looked down, and saw Flick’s fancy, “….yes, she uses the riding crop on them….” she shivered, “….exhibit B are our Abrasion Bras. They’re complete with a pin-cushion casing on the inside surface, with which to torment the tits….” ouch, “….you’ll note our nipples are nude. However, we have it easy by comparison with the bad boys. If you look around, you’ll see exhibit C with BUSINESS Briefs….” she duly did so, and saw several faces of pain, “….which are Patent Purgatory Punishment Pants. The acronym stands for Balls Under Sentence Including Necessary Erectional Sexual Stress….” very clever, “….they’re markedly worse to wear than Knackerpants. They punish the penis with a series of short semi-sharp steel spikes. The more an errant erection extends, the more penile pain….so try some teasing.” She ran her hands over her raw rear, and then somehow knocked a shoe onto the floor. “Bother,” she said loudly, whilst wilting at the waist. Good girls bend at the knee, but she’d always been a wanton wicked wench. “AHHH….AHHH,” she heard several studs moaning, and clutching forlornly at their crotches. Nicely knackerable nuts too, she noted. “We’d best get going, Daffy,” said I’ll Ask Her, as they joined the others.

 

The Gymnasium 

corporali disciplina 

 

Physical Training, read the logo, but probably more like corporal discipline. They passed through the double doors, and stood in a long line facing all the fellas, four foot apart....PEEP went a whistle, as a seemingly strict and sexy Siren entered. She was wearing a seriously skimpy red-hot pair of crimson-coloured hot pants, with matching conventional crop top, plus plimsolls. OMG….since she was so lean, lithe and luscious, with an intoxicatingly slim waist….PEEP went her whistle. “Welcome to my PT class….” she said, as she strutted along between them. It seemed similar to a military inspection, “….it seems we’ve one extra this morning, since Honour Owen’s….well, On Her Own at the end….” very witty, “….and I assume I’ve accumulated a Shagger’s Schoolday Sojourn….” she stopped opposite her, “….which one are you, guilty girl?” She stitched the so-called swishees’ smirk, trying not to look too closely at her crop. The wan smile was often offered at St Hot Bots as a prelude to public punishment. “Please, Ma’am,” she replied, “I’m Saffron, Daphne, of dorm 6M.” Her heart thumped as it was flexed between the teacher’s fingers. “Were you warned what happens with this?” she asked ominously. “Yes, Ma’am,” she replied, spreading her legs, hopefully….THWAPP “….UGHHH….harder, Ma’am….” THWAPPP “….URGHHH….thank you, MA’AM.” There were several sniggers. “Clearly you’re a pussy pain slut,” she said, “so might I commend my Special Sessions to you? They’re a Comprehensive Correctional Crotch Cropping Course….” oo..er….yes, MA’AM, “….available only to those over eighteen. So any of these delightfully deviant damsels will be welcome to sign themselves up from next autumn onwards. However, I’m aware from speaking to Shagger’s philandering father, who’s a stud we share….” there were several gasps, “….how you sometimes visit St Sticks overnight….” rumbled, she reflected, “….so you could consider my study first, before continuing to call on Cunt Casanovas for copulation?” She smiled. “Maybe I might, Ma’am,” she murmured. “Turning to today,” she asked, “did you have any personal preferences for PT….by which I mean possible peccadilloes?” Most definitely. “Ropes, Ma’am,” she admitted, “I’m not especially into bondage, but I rather relish rough rope….for obvious reasons.” The teacher nodded. “We’ve several such sluts in this class,” she replied, “I believe Holly Totton’s a bit of a bondage babe….at least according to Shagger, since he’s a second stud we three share….” there were more gasps, “….so any sluts which want can take the rope route, whilst the rest do press-ups in the centre. It’s bad news for the bad boys, since today they take their medicine….” which sounded nasty, “….get going to the Contingency Cupboard.” PEEP. 

“I started up a Rope,” she said, “whilst thinking how it had seemed much easier at school? I watched whilst the bad boys padded out of the room. Several minutes later, they re-emerged, carrying the equivalent of their crosses. It was heavy Medicine balls, together with dumbbells. They set them down, even as I reached the top. Seconds later, I was joined by I’ll Ask Her.”  

Fascinated, she watched whilst they each affixed a Rope Of Rack And Ruin to their scrotums at one end, and the dumbbell on the other....PEEP “....Medicine Balls....begin,” she ordered, wittily. “AHHH....AHHH,” she heard them all gasping at this terrible testicular torment as they slowly started to roll....THWACKK “....oww....” THWACKK “....oww,” she heard them gasping as their hineys were hit. “Faster,” she hissed, “....put your backs....well, your balls into it. It’s six circuits around the perimeter....and the loser is cropped comprehensively, as an encouragement to do better next time.” Pour Encourager les autres, as poor Admiral Byng had found out the hard way for losing a battle. Indeed, Ancient Relic had said so earlier. “Hotty Totty’s botty is renowned,” said Flick, nodding towards the end rope, “it always was one of the best bums in the business, which may well win one of the Mrs Shagton Rear Of The Year Awards on Prize Day this term....” she smiled, “....she’s also blessed with a terrifically tight twat, hence a cunt currency well worth taking twelve taps to the tush. Anyway, I’ll hang about here for a little longer, since Have A Thrash hits you hard every time you venture down.” She didn’t feel as sprightly as when she’d been similarly seventeen, so she slid slowly down the rope. “Uhhh....Uhhh....” she moaned as it stroked her sensitive slit, “....UHHH,” she added as it contacted her clit. She reached the floor to find Ava Frasch standing there. “Such sin,” she said knowingly, “however, there’s no point of pussy punishment with you, since you’ll only enjoy it. So we’ll try taking taps to the tits....” THWAPP “....UGHHH....” THWAPP “....UGHHH....” she moaned. “Another failure,” she said, “so bend over, and we’ll hope you’re not a serious subbie which enjoys cropping at all costs.” She shook her head as she duly did so....THWACKK “....Ahhh....” THWACKK “....Ahhh,” she gasped in posterior pain, “thank you, MA’AM. I nudge ninedy in the direction of Domination, so this should do the trick.” Have A Thrash nodded. “I especially enjoy taking down disciplinary Dommes,” she admitted, “by breaking their wills, and showing them who’s Superior. I’ve done so several times with Georgie Boy’s Wife....” one of her august employers, “....and put her properly in her place. “So up you go again....but bear in mind it’s six strokes if you....well, cum down.” She turned to Hotty Totty’s hotty botty....and probably twatty, too. 

“Her busy crop seemed to be everywhere,” she said, “the unlucky loser was one Howard Izzard....” How Hard Is Hard, “....at the end of the lesson, the bad boys were sent out first. This at least allowed them a little latitude with the removal of the Business Briefs. Then she cropped all our cunts again....for no particular good reason. But then I’ve always felt PT teachers to be card-carrying sadists. After the dismissal whistle, we too returned to the changing room. I couldn’t face my naughty knickers, since my slit was so sore. Alas, I’d cum three times....which was what always happened at St Hot Bots. I put on my pink high heels, although Flick warned me what would happen if caught wearing them. I assured her it was by prior arrangement, although by then I was having second thoughts....” she paused, “....so what about you, Shirley? Was it really cold?” The other nodded. “Yes,” she confirmed, “Colder Than Charity....as it said....” 

The Swimming Pool 

frigidiores fiunt quam caritas 

 

“....H₂O and I splashed through the freezing cold foot wash, a foretaste of fun to follow. The guilty girls lined up along one side, and the bad boys the other. Several seconds later, Mrs Zippy strutted inside, wearing a Tanningtown style black leather business suit. Our pink costumes were some sort of special design for St Sticks….as I told you.”

“Good morning, everyone,” said Edith Zippy, “I’m afraid the water’s not as warm as usual, since the heating wasn’t on over the half term holiday….” wonderful, “….it’s a pleasure to welcome a Shagger’s Schoolday Sojourn. Which one are you?” She curtseyed politely. “Please Ma’am, I’m Cirrus, Shirley of dorm 6B,” she replied. “We’ll start with Walk The Plank,” she said, “as it’s my practice to pick on prefects past and present, plus new nax….” knackers, “….last time, it was Noah Nolan Noakes, otherwise known as NO NO NO, for an exquisite exhibitionistic entrance. I bound a 7lb diving brick to his balls by a Rope Of Rack And Ruin….” ouch, “….so now I’ll offer the same facility for a new nix….” knickers, “….with one attached to each tit….” double ouch, “….which you throw off the top board….somewhat up in the clouds….” ha bloody ha, “….for a case of sink or swim back to the shallow end.” Warily, she bared both boobs, “Ahhh….ahhh,” she gasped as two elasticised cords were tied tight. Then the teacher handed over two heavy bricks, and she padded towards her fate. Hell….the horrendous humiliation, with all eyes upon her. Surely this must be like carrying one’s cross to Calvary? Carefully, she climbed up the long ladders, and continued out onto the top board. It looked a VERY long way down….PEEP went the whistle. She threw them in, and quickly followed before the tension took its toll….splash, they went….SPLASHH, she added, hitting the water. She struggled back to the surface, aware the worst wasn’t over, since the bricks were still sinking. “Ughhh,” she spluttered as she was suddenly dragged down. Desperately, she struggled back to the surface, and started swimming towards safety. “AHHH….AHHH….” she gasped, as the bricks slowly shifted, “….ughhh,” she spluttered again, and made an extra erotic effort. Even with the end in sight, it was still a long stretch, so to speak. The bricks were climbing a steep gradient as they bumped along the bottom. At the edge, she raised her head….and spied straight up Mississippi’s skirt. “Well done,” she said, “however, as a Bi Babe, it seems you’re no better than bad boys. You can remove the Ropes, get out of the pool and bend over for a beating. It will be six strokes….the standard three for Spying, and the same for Naughty Nipples. Do you have anything to say?” She nodded. “Ohh….ohh,” she moaned as she removed the Ropes, “I’m guilty as charged, and I do deserve discipline, Ma’am,” There were several sniggers. “Certainly, Cirrus,” she said, “since you were wanting to revisit the rattan, and source some school style stick and swishing sessions.” With which she’d certainly succeeded beyond her wildest dreams….or nightmares. 

SWISHHHTHWACKKK    SWISHHHTHWACKKK    SWISHHHTHWACKKK 

“Yeee..EEEE..HEEE,” she yelped, “THREE, thank you, MA’AM.” 

SWISHHHTHWACKKK    SWISHHHTHWACKKK    SWISHHHTHWACKKK 

“Yeouchh..OUCH..OUCH,” she gasped, “SIX, thank you, MA’AM….ohhh….” she added as the staccato style stripes were stroked with the stick, “….thank you for bringing back so many memories….and for caning me so competently.” PEEP….went the whistle. “All right, class,” she said, “now it’s time for some serious stuff. It will be swimming side to side….first the fellas, then the floozies, with six widths each, followed by Sharks.”  

“Which was at least erotic entertainment,” she explained, “as the guilty girls swam underwater towards the bad boys, and then stretched any scrotums they saw. I’ll admit I had Harry’s….but so did several other sluts. Then we went to change, although like you I couldn’t face naughty knicks. I too had said to Silage about wearing high heels, and rather wished I hadn’t….” she paused, “….my mouth’s as dry as a bone, Daffy. Maybe we should have taken up Wodin’s offer for refreshments? But we could take two teas from Harry’s Homemade Hamburgers? I dare you to do so….with us Dubiously Dressed.” Clearly she too was still on a sexual high. “All right, Shirley,” she replied, wittily, “a takeaway tease.” It was just up ahead, so she turned into the truckers’ car park, complete with several heavy goods vehicles. Then they each emerged, and padded towards the main entrance. Had they both been bad boys, the Lovely Ladies Liberation Lobby would have been the first to complain about indecent exposure. They stepped inside and swayed seductively towards the counter, “Fuck….” muttered one sinful specimen with WILL on his jersey, “….ughh,” spluttered a second, as SAM saw their seats. “Two teas to go, please….” she said sweetly, “….both black….which is how we like our mere males,” added Shirley Cirrus, which should inhibit any unwanted advances? “Six shillin’s each please….Miss….” said Harry in a deadpan voice. It was he, according to his apron, and she handed him an NP1 note, “….it’ll be a couple of minnitz, since duh automat’s on duh blink today, so I’m ’avin’ ter use a kettle.” She bent forwards slightly, since Teasing Tools always made a gal feel good. “Fuck,” she heard from several sources, feeling all the fellas metaphorically fondling her flogged fanny.

Then the door opened, and a big bruiser waddled inside in menacing fashion. “BICHIZZ….” he said hotly, reeking of tobacco whilst waving a fist at them, “….it woz bad enuff bein’ cut up by a soddin’ swish sports car, but duh four fingers were worse….” there were several sniggers from around the room, “….cool it, Alf,” urged Harry, “r’member wot ’appened last year when yer took such a tack wiv a Tart.” Alas, it appeared he wasn’t worried, “Yeah,” he said, “wot was wearin’ fuckin’ fancy furs, an’ nuffin’ underneaf….” was this description familiar, she wondered at once? “….if you wont doin’, darlins, I’m ’appy t’elp.” WHUMPH “….UGHHH,” he moaned as she kneed his nuts, and he fell forward, whooping in abject agony….SLAPP “….Oww….” SLAPP “….Oww,” he gasped, transferring his hands to his slapped cheeks….WHUMPP “….UGHHH,” he repeated as Shirley Cirrus kicked his crotch without consideration. Then they quietly collected their paper cups from the counter. “Do call back any time, luvvly Laydizz,” urged Harry, “since it’s really good for trade.” Always happy to help, as they both padded back outside. They spotted the HGV endorsed as Alf’s Transport : surbiton almost immediately. “I suggest a tyre job,” said Surely Serious. “Better than a blow job,” she replied rudely, as they discretely and demurely deflated them all. “Some people never learn….” said Shirley Cirrus virtuously, as they returned to the X1/9. “….shall we wait?” She nodded. “Ahhhh,” they both gasped as they sat down, so it seemed the same sentiment actually applied to them? Slowly and sedately, they sipped their teas, looking at the lorry.

Several minutes later, the big bruiser emerged. As he waddled towards them, she now noted how he possessed a paunch the size of Saturday. Then his face fell, as he spotted their sin. “Not again,” he shouted as she started the engine, and drove slowly towards him. “Have a nice day,” she said sweetly, “and eat my dust.” She accelerated away, leaving him coughing and spluttering. The Stern Maiden was just up ahead, however she’d park well out of the way. Had it been Helen Shagton who’d dealt with Alf so similarly? She was aware how Oh Hell too enjoyed Driving Dubiously Dressed, with only a fur coat for company. This had been something else Georgie Boy had confessed under….well, sufferance. She made another mental note to ask him about it some time when they were in the sack together.

To be continued……