St Stricktlands School: 227 – part (3) of (4)

Farmyard Fun and Frolics

Grizelda Gutteridge awoke and stared groggily down at the car clock. Heavens, it was somehow 5.24pm, and she’d been asleep for hours. Then she saw there was something stuck underneath the wiper blade. Surely not a parking ticket, she wondered as she stepped out and removed it? Oops….since it WAS one such….well, almost.

Domme – sometime scholars which steal Staff spots should be swished soundly….with a bit of a beating by the beak. Kindly report for the rattan, and a really rear. I expect to be in my Flat from 7pm until 10am tomorrow morning…..violating various vixens.

Best swishes, Terrence.

She’d wondered what sanctions were available to such sinners, and now she knew. But what else would one expect at St Sticks, the caning centre of the known universe? The Headmaster had always been a Womanizer of the worst kind, so nothing new there. She folded the naughty Note into her overnight bag, and placed the ignition keys into her pocket....the only one available in the so-called Short Shirt. So what was next? Her tummy told her it was teatime, which meant braving The Canteen. She wouldn’t want much, since she’d be dining later, She’d have to hurry, since she didn’t want to be late for her Detention. The rules were the same for all classes….one whack per minute late, and up to six strokes. Anything in excess would mean getting further onto the Detention treadmill. She may as well leave her overnight bag, since she’d need to change for her date, and here was as good as any. Should she lock the car? No, why bother, since the risk of loss was ludicrously low, and there was nothing of any value inside. So she shut the door, and padded across the car park. Inside the main building, she could hear distant discipline dished. It was almost always the same, since swishing at St Sticks rarely ceased. Quickly, she continued down the long, dark cold corridors. The one thing she didn’t dare do was run, since any passing prefect or teacher would have stopped and swished her soundly. Several minutes later, she reached her destination, and carefully inspected the sign.

Duty Canteen Supervisor

Angel Angle

Not a name she knew, and presumably therefore a new appointment? She padded inside, and was relieved to find no line-up at this late hour. So she took a tray, and selected a starter. Then she padded past a seemingly strict specimen, with her hair tied backwards in a bun. Heavens, she seemed to have been modelled on the mythical Miss Agatha Trunchbull from the mainstream movie, Matilda. “I’ll have the ham salad, please,” she said to the hot-food counter catering assistant. “Certainly….Domme,” replied Millie, “welcome back again. I take it you’ve had another hankering for revisiting the rattan?” She smiled sweetly as she accepted the plate. “Something of the sort,” she muttered as she inspected the desserts….apple pie would do. Time was short, so coffee was out of the question. “Over here, Domme,” she heard a voice calling, and saw an arm waving. She padded towards the table containing two pupils-with-pussy In The Pink. “Do join us….” said Verity Gneiss, “….it seems someone’s a sinful slut,” added Philistine, as she set down the tray. Clearly, they were both well onto the tea ticket. “Hello….Verity and Phyllis….” she said as she sat down, and attacked the prawn cocktail, “….if you remember, I was dished a Detention by Nasty Girl. It was after I’d been thrown into The Swimming Pool by two Brownie Babes.” They both nodded, knowingly. “We’ll let you eat in peace,” said Very Nice “since time’s short. However, I’ll provide you with a pen, since as you know it’s a caneable crime to arrive in Detention without one….” she popped it into the pocket, “….and which isn’t green ink,” added Philistine, clearly someone else aware of her personal peccadillo. “Thanks,” she said, “I appreciate your help.”

According to The Canteen clock it was 5.46pm when she was finally finished. “If you’re not busy this evening,” said Philistine, “you’d be most welcome in The Six Bi Babes….either as a Visitor, or voluntary victim.” She mopped her mouth. “I’ve a date with Richard Sharp….” she replied as she stood up, and they followed suit, “….a romantic dinner at The Stern Maiden. So I’ll have to pass….although I might be able to pop in at some stage tomorrow morning.” Together, they took their trays to the Crockery Collection Cache, and deposited the débris. “Have you done anything to annoy The Gods Themselves?” asked Very Nice as they stepped through the double doors, “….recently, I mean? I saw them staring at you seriously sourly whilst you were eating.” They started into the first of the long, dark cold corridors. “I was with them for a time during D-Day,” she confessed, “and whilst I didn’t dish discipline, it assisted in Teasing Tools.” They both nodded. “We’d best be your Guardian Angels to the Detention rooms, Domme,” she said, “since they’ll have seen your Short Shirt, and know where you’re headed.” Even more reasonable of them. “This Angel Angle character,” she asked, “who looks like Miss Agatha Trunchbull….is she a New Nox?” There were two neat nods. “Her first term as a New Knockers,” replied Verity Gneiss, “known as Angular Angela, with both G’s sounded hard….” indeed, “….she’s Maths and German…..” so surely she’d make a good Gestapo Girl? “….and as Terrence said in assembly on the First Full Day,” Phyllis Stein continued, “she suggests scholars should form the angle.” What wonderful wit.

Then they reached the main Teaching wings. Oops….as she saw their way was blocked by the two Godfreys, looking grim. “Not so cocky now, are we….you damn’ Domme,” said The Wrath Of God, with an expression to match his nickname. “We thought we’d help you to….well, tarry a while,” added The Fear Of God, ominously, “for at least six minutes.” So the strategy was perfectly plain. “Which won’t work,” said Verity Gneiss, flexing her fingers meaningfully, whilst Phyllis Stein did so, similarly. Then both Bi Babes lunged forward. “AHHH….fuck….AHHH….AHHH,” gasped the former as his nuts were knackered neatly. “Disappear, Domme,” called out Very Nice, “we’ll hold them here at the pass.” So to speak, as she padded rapidly up the first flight of stone steps. “AHHH….you haven’t heard the last of this….AHHH….fuck you….AHHH….” she heard Godfrey Roth’s considered comments, “….AHHH….AHHH….we’ll get you later….AHHH….” added Godfrey Fearing. The sounds of suffering scrotums slowly subsided as she reached the Level 2 landing. Then she continued along the corridor, to where a collection of canees were waiting the arrival of the Supervisors. “Hello….Harry….” she said to someone who seemed so similar in stature to Shagger. Now she recalled seeing him around the school in the past, and thinking the same. He’d have been one of The Boys In Blue when she was a prefect, “….it appears this is all your fault?” She gestured towards her Short Shirt. “Yes, Ma’am….” he agreed, clearly unable to accept her suspect status, “….however the Seats Of Learning inside are down to cousin David….” she stared at him, open-mouthed, “….we only discovered the relationship over the recent half term holiday. It appears we once shared a great great Aunt, which makes us third cousins.” Thus explaining the uncanny resemblance. “Would you like to do your Detention with me?” she asked coyly, and he nodded. “I’d be honoured, Ma’am,” he replied.

She was about to ask him what he’d done to deserve it, but then two of The Little Green Men approached, obviously twins. “Hello….Harry,” said one, with apparent informality, “….as our firm friend, you were kind enough to sign our sheets, so we’ll demand our dues.” He shrugged at the inevitable. “Gabby and Gritty are two of The Gee-gees,” he explained, although she’d never heard of such a dorm, and a case of ignotum per ignotious. This was when an explanation was more a hindrance than help….literally The Unknown Followed By The Unknown. He adopted the Position For Pain, with his legs spread, both knees bent, and leaning backwards slightly. She recalled how Relay had returned with it from St Templars, following his Exchange in Year LXXXVII. Clearly, it had since become much more mainstream. “I don’t mind this at all, Ma’am,” he said, “since I really rather relish it by younger years….particularly in public. It’s huge humiliation, but as an incorrigible exhibitionist, it always appeals….AHHH….AHHH….AHHH….AHHH,” he gasped as his scrotum was stretched soundly, “AHHH….AHHH….AYEEEEE….I am your stretch slave, SIR.” Then he was let loose, “Now it’s my turn to take your testicles,” said his brother. “AHHH….” he gasped as his scrotum was stretched soundly a second time, “….AHHH….AHHH….AYEEEEE, I am your stretch slave too, SIR.” It seemed they’d attracted the attention of a second pair of twins. They were her present peers-with-pussy In The Pink, although she couldn’t recall their names? Then she spotted two teachers marching towards them in a militaristic manner. One was Cooler Carla, the second similar specimen Captain Carlie Greystone. She too was wearing a khaki-coloured short severe service skirt. “It appears we’re on Morton’s Fork, Ma’am,” he muttered, “since it’s six of one, and half a dozen of the other.” A historical reference to the famous tax collector of King Henry VIII, who took the view everyone should pay up, whether rich or poor. “Any detainees wanting to….well, face the music, kindly follow me,” said Khaki Carlie, wittily. With a sudden shiver, she recalled how she beat bare bottoms by baton. It was certainly discipline with a difference, and she watched whilst several sinful souls did so. “Everyone else is with me,” said Captain Carla Icewater. Or were they with the Woolwich, as she recalled the witticism from the building society of old? “I promised Cooler Carla, Harry,” she whispered, as they and the two pairs of twins padded behind her.

Room 232

The teacher stepped inside first, with her felons and felonesses following. “Good evening, soldiers,” she said, “welcome to my Detention Class. There are only six….well, shall we say of the best….” ha bloody ha, “….so choose your bench from the first two rows. Stand to attention, with your hands behind your head, whilst I run through the rules….” she and H₂O selected the second, with the others in front of them, although it made little difference. They were all adorned with specially constructed rubber mats, obviously the so-called Seats Of Learning. Ouch….as she tentatively placed a finger on one corner. The fine matrix of short semi-sharp steel spikes was certainly everything as advertised. She could see how they’d add admirable agony to an already aching arse. As she placed her hands in the required position, she was only grateful not to have started out with a really raw rear. As was obvious from the four flogged fannies, both pairs of twins had already been beaten during the day. As junior and senior fags, their fearful fagmaster or frightful fagmistress would have done the deeds….in addition to anyone else. But both bad boys now had another potential problem, since the sinful Sisters had separated them and then selected adjacent seats. The likelihood of them not being Shopped at some stage was ludicrously low….hell, she’d done so herself on so many occasions in the past, “….for the benefit of our senior sinner….” very witty, “….I caution care for all soldiers-with-shafts. Since Straying Up Skirts is impossible, there’s lots of left in Languishing Along Lovely Legs….three strokes….” hopefully not per leg? “….with six for Stroking Sluts’ slits, or Touching Tarts’ Twats?” But still sheer sexism, since presumably the bad boys were expected to enjoy Touching Up and Teasing Tools with good grace? “….all Closure Canings will be three apiece, together with extras. Should you finish, stand at your seat. For those who fail, it will be one whack per sheet short. Everyone will have an erection inspection at the end, and a naughty nipple should ensure sluts still suffer for their sins….” not good, “….for anyone who hasn’t been set Lines already, they should write eight dozen of the following….” the nearest to the old hundred, “….I am a seriously sinful soldier whose flogged fanny will fail to find favour. Are there any caneable Questions….?” chance would be a fine thing, “….you may begin.” She gritted her teeth. “Ahhh,” she gasped as she sat down, a sentiment shared by all the others. She took out her pen, grateful once again to the Bi-Babes, and took the top sheet of paper.

St Stricktlands

Putting the oo back into school

Use for one dozen Lines, and add continuation sheets as necessary. Ensure this and all others are correctly identified and totalled. Care should be taken to check there are no errors or omissions in your work. Any such sheet will be rendered Inadmissible, and an appropriate penalty applied. In particular the placement and positioning of all apostrophes must be chosen with extreme care. The intermediate spacing should only be used for long Lines. Credit will be given for neat and orderly work.

Scholar name: Gutteridge, Grizelda Set by: Ms Anastasia Girling

Scholar dorm: 6S, Year LXXXVII Supervisor (if applicable): Captain Carla Icewater

Dearest David would say the final sentence was simply subaudition. It was where a word or phrase meant something different from what it purported. In this instance, the claim about credit was complete cobblers. Any untidy or disorderly work was also ruled Inadmissible, and had to be done again….during another Detention. She added the applicable dates, and attempted to recall what she’d been set? Oh yes, now she had it.

1. The Swimming Pool is out of bounds to scholars at all times apart from during lessons.

2. The Swimming Pool is out of bounds to scholars at all times apart from during lessons.

Curiously, she glanced across at Harry Herbert Orwell’s work.

3. I must not arrive eight minutes late for my English lesson.

Obviously he was writing them more quickly than her. However, she wouldn’t know how many he’d been set until he reached the footer. But the reason for his presence this evening was now clear, since the Lines were self-evident….so QED again. Though heavens above, even his handwriting was similar to his new-found cousin’s. A glance at his header revealed how Lady Joyce D’Aragon was responsible for his present plight. She smiled slightly as she recalled to what dearest David had always referred, as being his Leetle Vrench Vancy….with her lovely and light 5’5” French frame. This was before considering her small conical tits, fetching femme fatale street-urchin hairstyle. There was no doubting her certain subtle je ne sais quois erotic allure. Idly, she recalled the rumours about how The Dragon Lady lived in a converted monastery in the French alps, was seriously rich, and worked at the school for free. The irony was she taught only English, although she spoke with an irresistibly intoxicating light Gallic lilt. It offered an extra emphasis evident on the letter R….as in Shaggerr.

3. The Swimming Pool is out of bounds to scholars at all times apart from during lessons.

4. The Swimming Pool is out of bounds to scholars at all times apart from during lessons.

“I heard all about how you happened to end up swimming fully clothed….Grizzie,” said the teacher, suddenly standing behind her, “but how did Orwell achieve such lamentable Lateness for Mark Guest’s class?” She assumed the question was intended for him? “Please, Ma’am,” he replied, whilst still writing, “I was Last Out of The Canteen for lunch yesterday. The Monitor was the pretty prefect Isobelle Tucker, whose forté always was to foster floggings for the fellas. She contrived to cane me contrarily, by swishing me seriously slowly. I wasn’t let loose until ten to two, with the results which are apparent. Alas, this is my sixth such this term, so I shall have to Explain myself on Monday morning….and ending up with a further two Detentions for my trouble. So one might say she most certainly succeeded.” Indeed, she agreed as the teacher walked away, it appeared Tucker The Fucker was still up to her old tricks. With another slight pang of guilt, she recalled the several occasions during Year LXXXVIII when she’d aided and abetted the process herself. She’d been on duty herself, and had convincingly caned various vixens and villains for what were almost certainly imaginary or illusory insults. What was her favourite friend’s name….the other Isobelle? Yes, it was Hunt The Cunt, and taken together they were The Belles Of St Stricktlands.

5. The Swimming Pool is out of bounds to scholars at all times apart from during lessons.

6. The Swimming Pool is out of bounds to scholars at all times apart from during lessons.

The best course for writing Lines was to put one’s brain onto autopilot, and lose oneself in the annals of memory. Her mind moved back in time to this morning, and her short stop at Harry’s Homemade Hamburgers just down the road from The Stern Maiden. She’d attempted to pull off the A1690 into the transport caff’s car park, but been blocked by a large lorry on its way out.

BEEP….she tooted, expecting Alf’s TransporT : surbiton to reverse the few feet needed to enable her entry. BEEEEP….it hooted back, clearly unwilling to back up an inch. BEEEEP….she echoed, so it was a stand-off, and she wasn’t about to give ground either. HGV drivers weren’t noted for either chivalry or civility, and this one certainly seemed a complete cretin. Then he opened his cab door, and waddled towards her. Typically, ALf was a big bruiser, possessing a paunch the size of Saturday. She rolled down her window, and now she noted how he reeked of tobacco, too. “Wotcha fink yer doin’ funny fanny?” he demanded. It was time to show him who was Superior, so she too stepped out. Oops….since she’d forgotten she was basically bare below the belt. Unexpectedly, the colour drained out of his face, as he perused pussy with some Staring At Slits. “Nice back and front….” cockney rhyming slang for cunt, “….I didn’t mean no offence….Ma’am….” he muttered with a clearly unintended double negative, and crept away, “….please don’t knee mah nuts.” Seconds later, he’d reversed rapidly, and she was parked prettily by the main entrance. Should she dress, she wondered? Then the thrill of exhibitionism was with her. Had she been a mere male, it would have been considered exposure, as a sex-pest and public pervert. However, this was the way of the world, and lovely Ladies were allowed lots more latitude. She continued into the caff, whilst wondering what the fuck was going on? Slowly, she padded up to the counter. “Tea to go, please….” she said to Harry, “….together with a bacon bun.” Deliciously, she could feel all eyes upon her, feasting on her fanny. “Nice arse, Ma’am,” she heard a mutter from….well, behind her. “What’s up with Alf?” she asked, whilst her snack was prepared. “Duh last two times ’e’s met up wiv lovely Ladies Drivin’ Dubiously Dressed ’aven’t worked art well….” said a seated Sam, “….’e ended up kicked in duh crotch,” added Will, at his side, “….an’ wiv all ’is tyres let darn….Ma’am.” Oops. “I’m so sorry,” she said into the silence, “although I daresay he did deserve it.” Then Harry put her purchase onto the counter. “It’s firty bob’s worf please, Ma’am,” he said politely, as she took out a wallet from her jacket pocket. Thirty bob was still the same as it always had been. However with a twelve, rather than twenty shilling pound, it was now NP2:60, rather than £1.10.0d as in the old days. She counted out two NP1 notes plus a 6s coin, and handed them over. Then she picked up her purchases, and turned towards the door. The two truckers both rose politely. “Do ’av a good day….Ma’am,” muttered Sam. “Your tyres are all safe with me,” she replied whilst she winked once, and padded out.

It had been a very satisfactory outcome, she’d agreed as she’d eaten her bacon bun, once again on the road. Who the mystery Madams were who’d sorted him out previously was another matter? Obviously, they could have been almost any disciplinary Domme.

She returned to reality, checked her Lines, and was startled to see she was somehow on sheet 2. How she’d finished the footer and started the second was another matter. In front of her, she could just both studs shifting slightly. Although it might be due to the spikes on their suffering seats, it was much more likely to be Teasing Tools. Resolutely, she kept her head down, since anyone looking up would be indicted instantly for Inattention.

2. The Swimming Pool is out of bounds to scholars at all times apart from during lessons.

3.The Swimming Pool is out of bounds to scholars at all times apart from during lessons.

“What is it, soldiers?” she heard the teacher asking, maybe twenty minutes later? “Please, Ma’am,” replied one twin, “the soldier sitting next to me has been Languishing Along Lovely Legs….” she’d also adopted the military idiom, “….and this one,” added the other, although it was most unlikely they’d done any such thing. “Do you admit the charges?” asked Cooler Carla. “Yes, Ma’am….” said one, perjuring himself in the process, “….and me, Ma’am,” added the other, as the alternative was a doubled dose of dished derrière discipline for a denial. The unwritten rule put it pithily: Always Admit The Accusation, Even If It Isn’t True. “Go ahead and enjoy a little languish,” said Cooler Carla….a generous gesture, in the circumstances. “Ohh….ohh,” moaned both guilty girls, as they duly did the deed. “Now step out here, soldiers,” she said sternly, “and bend over, fannies facing the class….” there were several seconds silence, “….particularly pert little posteriors, simply Asking for the cane….” dammit, this was a terrible tease, “….here we go, with three strokes each in the staccato style.”

Swishhhthwackk Swishhhthwackk Swishhhthwackk

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

Swishhhthwackk Swishhhthwackk Swishhhthwackk

“Yeee..EEEE..HEEE..THREE, thank you, MA’AM,” she heard the other echo identically. “Stand up, soldiers,” ordered the teacher, “and we’ll see whether you pass an erection inspection….” there was a short pause, “….nope….and two terribly tempting tools. Assume the Position again, with your legs spread, for a further flogging on those fine, fetching fannies….simply Asking for the cane.” It was no good, she’d HAVE to look. Cautiously, she raised her eyes, and agreed with Cooler Carla about perfect little posteriors….not to mention knackerable nuts. “I was wondering whether the soldiers with slits would be able to avoid terrible temptation….” oops, “….and the answer is No for the three of you….” at least it wasn’t only her, “….I shall swish you all shortly. Meantime, at the expense of losing more valuable time, you may all enjoy the pleasure of perusing their punishment….with some Staring At Seats.” Thanks a bunch.

Swishhhthwackk Swishhhthwackk Swishhhthwackk

“Yikes..YIKES..YIKES….SIX, thank you, MA’AM,” gasped the first, “thank you for my thrashing….and for allowing me the luxury of Languishing Along Lovely Legs.”

Swishhhthwackk Swishhhthwackk Swishhhthwackk

“Yikes..YIKES..YIKES….SIX, thank you, MA’AM,” the second repeated, “thank you as well, and I too appreciated being allowed to languish a little.” Well spoken, she agreed. “Kindly give me your name and dorm details for my beat sheet,” ordered the teacher. “Please, Ma’am,” said the first, “I’m Grimsdyke, Gabbitas….” really? “….we’re The Grim Twins, Ma’am….as is probably self-evident, at least teachers and prefects are always saying so, particularly when punishing our posteriors….” SMACKK “….Oww,” he gasped, “….cut the cackle, and stick to the essentials, soldier….” H₂O had said his nickname was Gabby, and apparently with good reason, “….and we’re in dorm 3G, Ma’am,” he quickly concluded. So it was The Little Grabbers, and again appropriate, given their enthusiasm for stretching scrotums. Presumably, Gee-gees related to their names, and maybe all the rest of the dorm shared similar initials? “Please, Ma’am,” said the second, “I’m Grimsdyke, Grytpype.” Possibly his name was worse, as she could see how he’d ended up as Gritty. “Get back to your bench, bad boys,” she said, “and we’ll have all three guilty girls out here.” At least there’d be the luxury of a little light relief for their fannies. “Ohh,” they gasped as they arose, and their seats were separated from the spikes. They padded out to the front, and stood in line. “It’s The Pleasure Twins, isn’t it?” asked the teacher, “of The Six Teasers….?” there were two neat nods, “….I saw you Teasing Tools….” oops, “….and then you Shopped the soldiers for languishing, even though they weren’t….” rumbled, “….so I thought I’d treat you to some terrible temptation too, which was why I was extolling the virtues of those villains….” which had worked well, “….Grizzie was just as bad in her own sweet way….” it’s a fair cop, “….as you may recall, she was once one of The Six Sneaks, who make Sneaking almost into an art form….” her ears burned with many more memories….ones for which she was still paying the price, “….it’ll be three strokes each for Perusal of punishment in progress, for starters….” she paused, “….I’ll hit your hineys harder, since you’re all older, if not exactly any wiser.”