“I think some other sort of thanks is in order, Shagger,” said Sue Sweet, sweetly, “so since you’re obviously wearing Naccatape, you can be my balls bulb boy.” He walked around the desk, and lowered his trousers and underpants. Inevitably, an errant erection emerged. “UGHHH….UGHHH….BEEP BEEP,” he gasped as his scrotum was squeezed again….SMACKK “….Oww....” he added as she smacked him smartly, “….more….Ma’am,” he implored as he turned around, and bent forwards. “So someone’s been a bad boy,” she said, “presumably a Caning For Cunt?” What else? “Yes, Sue,” he confirmed, “it was a straight eight, as you can see….for Uncle Sam….” he paused, “….who’s asked to be added to our ménage, and we’ve all agreed.” The intercom crackled. “Congratulations, Shagger….” said The Headmaster’s voice, clearly listening in as usual, “….and does the Rub-a-dub spoon originate from Harold?” Well sussed. “Yes, Sir,” he replied, “My Missus and I enjoyed a traditional threesome in Mr Sphinx’ study yesterday evening.” She smiled. “Do you have it with you, Shagger?” she asked, and he handed it over…. PHWACKK “….OWWW….” PHWACKK “….OWWW,” he gasped.
“Perhaps some more from me, Shagger?” asked The Interrogator, having emerged unnoticed from his study and standing by the desk. “Most certainly, Sir,” he replied, and turned around again….PHWACKK “….OWWW….” PHWACKK “….OWWW….” PHWACKK “….OWWW,” he gasped, “I’m always happy to have your hits on my hiney, Sir….ohh,” he added as his seat was stroked. “Not normally properly professional, Shagger,” he said, “however you ARE a prefect, and your neat little bottom is legendary….” another dollar, “….I am so glad we understand each other. Would you be my balls bulb boy again into the bargain….?” he spread his legs, “….UGHHH….UGHHH….BEEP BEEP,” he gasped, “….it is my hope you will attend another Apocryphal Schoolboy Saturday before the end of term….not today, obviously. But on another topic, you may recall we discussed William Shanks yesterday evening….?”
he did indeed, “….whose final A-Level examination will be next Friday morning. I therefore propose to rusticate him immediately afterwards….” Oops, “….so could you kindly attend my study at half past twelve….?” it was framed as a request, but clearly an order….albeit one he’d be happy to obey, “….you can assist me in the accusations, and confirm his complicity in the untoward avoidance of several Sex Thrashings….” he smiled, “….I expect you will enjoy watching his whacks….” most definitely, having been in the same situation himself two terms previously, “….since we shall start with some sound starkers swishing….as is the object of the exercise. Then he can be duly demoted to dorm 6X….and senior fag to The Green Goddess, as you suggested. I will leave all her explanations to you on Monday evening….” clearly, he was already aware of their weekly hard-wired sessions, “….I expect over the following seven days, I will be able to administer all manner of acute agonies onto his arse, as will many other members of Staff….and prefects….” he winked once, “….which I accept and agree is all utterly unfair. However as you yourself found out the hard way, it keeps you humble. On the plus side he may Solicit all sorts of sluts with which to grace his gonads after he has regained his rank.”
True. “As I also alluded, Sir,” he said, “Iron Will’s always wanted to waver his willy wildly in the changing rooms….presumably in the high hopes of impressing….” pussy, “….err….innocent young Ladies with his prowess. It never worked, and he simply seemed silly. But The Exp♂sers and the six exhibiti♂nists might manage to teach him about personality, poise and panache when parading a penis in public. I’ll drop a note to each dorm in advance if you wish….and also advise the latter they’ll have a temporary bed Z for a week.” The Headmaster grinned. “Thank you, Shagger,” he said, “as for today, I too wish you and the Smith Sisters well, and hope you all enjoy some sun sea sand and sex.” So there it was again? “Ohh,” he gasped as he raised his underpants.
“On the subject of those Saturdays, Sir,” he said, lifting his trousers, “you’ll be intrigued to hear how Richard Sharp may be attending one as well. It’s a sort of insurance policy, since I’ve told him all about Wanker Boy Will….and he doesn’t want to be next in line.” Iain Terrence Hayter smiled. “The psychology certainly seems sound, Shagger,” he said, “do feel free to extol it elsewhere, since it may encourage more Dominant dolts to take advantage of the facility.” It was spoken as another sixdy-sixdy switch, as he knew him to be, “I’ll put it onto the Bush Telegraph, too,” put in Sue Sweet, “since it may secure some similar Schoolgirls….drawn from the Dominant damsels’ dorms.”
His penis pulsed at the prospect. “I’d really enjoy watching the wanton wicked wenches’ whacks, Sir,” he admitted. “Consider it your reward, Shagger,” he said, generously, “for services rendered in the promotion of these punishments. I am sure we can work your presence somewhere into the role-play, when you yourself have been thrashed thoroughly….” oo..er….yes, SIR, “….incidentally, on the following Saturday afternoon, it will be the first of the new Inter-school Naccarim Challenge matches.” He nodded. “I’m glad Stun’em’s Templar Treatise bore fruit, Sir,” he said, “since it seemed a somewhat high-risk strategy, and he could have ended up out on his ear.” The Interrogator smiled widely. “How did you hear of it, Shagger?” he asked, “surely it could not have been from James Stainham, since you were away at St Templars at the time?” He shrugged. “He wrote it here one evening, Sir,” he replied, “when Miffy Smiffy was Preparation Monitor. She subsequently mentioned it to my Missus and me, but I don’t believe it’s common knowledge.”
The Headmaster appeared impressed. “I understand it was a little touch-and-go at the meeting of their Governors,” he said, “with one faction opposed to any thawing of relations. However, what seemed to swing it….so to speak….” very good, “….was the specification of the Tanningtown tawse by Ms Frasch. In the circumstances of the original dispute, they could hardly be opposed to an event which did not use the cane….” he winked once, “….I expect you will be wishing to meet up with several firm friends from your Exchange?” He grinned. “I’d certainly enjoy taking The Twins’ twats again, Sir,” he agreed, “hence Hacker The Knacker and Fletcher the Stretcher….but both being named Gemini. Needless to say, they both hailed from The Six Knackerers. But it does raise an interesting question, since would the prohibition on poking for the pupils In The Pink apply to similar such visiting vivacious vixens? After all, my cousin Harry Herbert Orwell once screwed The Token Straight Slut in Sue’s Flat, on the basis she attended St Judes.”
The Interrogator pursed his lips. “It is a situation which has not arisen before….” he mused, with his stilted style of speech which avoided all apostrophes again apparent. But then he was a Patron of PEDANT….the Perfect English Development Association National Trust, “….but I think we may safely say it is so….” he winked a second time, “….I daresay your protégé may wish to show….who was it now? Yes, Fonder and Absolutely around the school at some stage, since Sue says he makes an excellent guide.” As Racy Tracy and several other subsequent sluts wouldn’t dispute. “Yes, Sir,” he agreed, “Jane Fonda and Lee Abigail Lute, if I recall rightly. I can confirm they’re simply stacked, with dark dusky contralto voices….” and blonde bushes, he believed, “….I’m sure Harry would welcome taking a tumble with them after their tour….” he glanced up at the clock, which read 8.51am, “….please excuse me, since the Smiths will be waiting, Sir.”
Sue Sweet handed over a piece of paper. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t, Shagger,” she muttered. “Which will give you substantial scope for sin, Shagger….” said Iain Terrence Hayter amiably, knowing her predilections for penis, “….so until next Friday….and good luck with your remaining A-Level examinations.” He’d need it. “Thank you, Sir,” he replied, as he stepped out of the office. Inevitably, there was a long line of sinful scholars standing sadly outside. They’d be today’s explainees….although Saturday was an easier option. It was Games for the 5th and lower 6th form, which started at 9.30am. Any on-time arrivals would avoid another Detention. As he retraced his steps, he read the paper.
Official exeat – To whom it may concern
Please be advised Shagton and The Smith Sisters are is hereby authorized to be out of bounds or absent from classes as follows: to Slappham for the day….sun sea sand and anything as appropriate
Signed for and on behalf of The Headmaster:- Susan Sweet
It seemed she’d been suitably circumspect, although he doubted anyone would be worried? He reached the Level 1 landing again, and headed down the empty echoing stone steps. It was distant discipline wasting on the wind, and not necessarily emanating from The Headmaster’s study. At the base, he started quickly into the first of the long dark cold corridors. Several minutes later, he reached the main entrance hall, and pushed open one of the double doors. “Good morning, Bultitude,” he said to the chauffeur, who was holding open one door of MS 1. “Good morning, Sir,” he replied.
David climbed inside to see both Smiths already seated, and also wearing their basic black prefect’s uniforms. “Ohh,” he gasped as he sat down, and his hurting hiney caught up with him again. The butler boarded, and then the Rolls Royce was away at some speed along the main carriage drive. “Get it out, Davy….” said Brenda Smith. Surely she wasn’t suggesting sex….not so soon? “….no, I’m not….” so HER apparent mind reading skills were working well, “….you may recall how Sis and I were completely cuckolded earlier by Silly….” he could hardly forget, “….so now it’ll be your turn….” oh dear, “….NO,” he gasped as he saw his fate worse than death, “….a KTB will keep you out of mischief, Davy. I also said I’d seek suitable restitution for the loan of my study last night to your senior fag….” he watched with sick fascination as it was applied, “….it’s the severe version….” thanks a bunch, “….don’t mention it, but since you’ve spunked so recently, your soft shaft shouldn’t suffer too much.” Simple for her to say, as the car slowed.
They passed beneath the imposing wrought-iron arches of the main entrance gates, and turned onto the public highway. “Ahhh,” he gasped as she snapped it shut over his placid penis. Then she locked it, and hung the key around her neck on a chain. “Put it away again, Davy,” she said, “best hope I don’t lose this anywhere today, Davy. If I do, it’ll be a VERY embarrassing trip to a locksmiths in Surbiton.” Indeed so, as he adjusted his dress….even though he wasn’t wearing one. “It occurs to me I don’t actually know the way to Slappham,” he said as they continued along the B1469. “We take this road to Stricktlands Village, Sir,” said Bultitude, “and then the B1669 all the way to the coast. We should be there in about three quarters of an hour.”
Fair enough. “Since I can’t source some suitable sluts,” he said sourly, “it’s as well I’ve arranged alternative entertainment. It’s by kind courtesy of Mrs Aubrietia Dooley, who I originally met at The Stern Maiden. She’s asked me to deliver decisive derrière discipline to her deviant daughters and sinful sons. She’s expecting me, since I confirmed the arrangements by phone a few minutes ago from Sue Sweet’s office. After I’ve enjoyed an early luncheon, I daresay I shall sunbathe on the sand all afternoon….although I don’t have anything suitable to wear.” The Smith Sisters shrugged. “Bultitude brought bikinis from home for us both, Shagger,” muttered Miffy Smiffy, “if you’d thought about things in advance, I’m sure Mum would have been happy to buy one. I suppose you can source something suitable in Slappham….but NO points for forward thinking.”
The miles continued to speed by….prairie country, it would be called in North America. For a scenic ride it was a non-starter, since the county was completely flat. Idly, and with only half a brain, he listened to feminine frippery. Finally, he spotted a large road sign.
SLAPPHAM-ON-SEA
WELCOMES CAREFUL DRIVERS
FOR SLAPPHAM SANDS
“According to Mrs Dooley,” he said, recalling the notelet again, “it’s a turning off THE STRAND called SANDS CLOSE….which presumably it is, especially in rough weather….” what wit, “….and № 7, past the mound….whatever it might be?” His brain promptly conjured up a mental image of a massive dune, impossibly positioned between two houses. The car reached the sea front, which was indeed so named. They continued until they reached the right road and turned into it. Ohh….since he’d seen a large sign, and how he’d gone wrong.
The Mound Guesthouse
Mrs Lucrecia Gulag
Slappham 33695
Room rentals from an hour
“Stop, Bultitude,” ordered Brenda Smith, “since Miff and I can make good use of a No Tell hotel. Make yourself useful, Davy, and rent us a room until five o’clock.” He stared at her, as the car drew to an abrupt halt. “Why me, Bren?” he asked sulkily….SLAPP “….Oww,” he added. “First,” she replied, “since I say so….” yes, MA’AM, “….second, since it seems you’ve no shortage of readies from your Patron….” so SOME points for forward thinking, since he’d brought plenty of cash, “….and third since it’s the gallant thing to do. It’s much better for the owner to think you’re up to no good….” even though he wasn’t, “….rather than besmirch our unsullied reputations as sluts out to screw some studs….” which they were, “….so in you go, Davy.”
He stepped out, and it seemed to be everything expected of such seedy seaside establishments. Paint was peeling everywhere and the atmosphere was unwelcoming. Quite possibly it was also known locally as The Mould? But what would Mrs Gulag be like? Even her name conjured up connotations of Russian prisons. DING DONG….went the doorbell, and he waited for the worst. Eventually it opened, and a young man stood there. For some strange reason, his face seemed familiar? “Good morning, Sir….” he said, automatically adding the salutation, “….I’m looking for Mrs Gulag.” There was a slight smile. “I am essentially she….Shagger,” he said, even as his brain whirled, “it’s Peter Paten….previous prefect….” how….what….why? “….I’m afraid I failed my A-Levels last year somewhere spectacularly….” oh, dear, “….possibly due to too much partying, and insufficient studying….”
Petey Patey’s parties were proverbial, “….fortunately plan B became available, after my maternal grandmother died….” he pointed to the masthead, and belatedly he recognized the Old English font giveaway, “….my parents weren’t interested in moving here from Dundee….” he ought also to have realized his name was Scottish, “….so I inherited the building….and the business, such as it is. Alas, there’s very little money to be made, since the holiday season is so short. However, bathers’ bonking balances the books….which is presumably what you’re after? Some sea, sun sand and sex?” He sniffed, in mild exasperation. “Yes and no, Peter,” he replied, “since Brenda and Myfanwy Smith have decided I should stay celibate….so I’m locked inside a KTB….” he patted his placid penis, “….however, they’d like to be laid a lot by the local lads.” The older boy nodded. “Let’s do a deal, Shagger,” he urged, “with a quid pro quo. If they include me in the action, we’ll knock the price down….” a Reciprocal Exchange for some knocking, “….since I still have to eat during December. Anyway, I’ve always enjoyed screwing the so-called Smith cousins….” he smiled, “….they even attended some of my parties last year.”
So more of their murky past was being exhumed? “Actually, Peter,” he replied, “it turns out they’re half Sisters, since they share the same philandering father. But how much would you want for a room rental until five o’clock?” The other pursed his lips. “I’m obviously a bit out of touch,” he agreed, “but the tool and twat tariff is normally thirdy new pounds for the first hour, and sixdeen subsequently….” he shrugged, “….it’s only fordy new pounds a night for conventional B&B, which is all the resort can command….” his point about penury was plain, “….say seven hours, which would normally be a gross new pounds. How does six dozen sound, and call it quits, coupled with cute cunt….?” he offered his hand, and they shook, “….thanks, Shagger….it’s been a business doing pleasure with you.” Very fucking funny….and literally so. He took out his wallet, and handed over a dozen NP6 notes. “I’ll ask them to step inside for your other wages of sin, Peter,” he said, “do enjoy them.”
He headed back to the car. “It’s all done and dusted….” he said, putting his head through the window, and feeling rather akin to a kerb crawler, “….although part of the deal on the room rate is your virtue….or lack of it. As you probably saw, Mrs Gulag is actually an alumnus….” or Sometime Scholar, “….if you’d step inside for suitable screwing, you can subsequently source some studs on the sands.” They nodded neatly, so clearly they’d no objection about being sold into slavery. “Thank you, Bultitude,” said Miffy Smiffy, “you can be away….” she paused, “….I forgot to tell you something, Shagger. We’ll have to take the train home this afternoon, since Mother needs the car. Be at the railway station in time for the 5:20pm, and remember, you’ll need a ticket.”
He opened the car door for them politely, and waited whilst they emerged, holding handbags. Presumably they held the advertised bikinis? “It’ll be a pleasure poking Petey Patey again….” muttered his Missus, “….I always enjoyed his parties,” added her Sister, “and so did Ursula….since they usually ended up as orgies, which are straight up her street.” As indeed she’d said. “Until later, lovely Ladies,” he said….SMACKK “….Oww….” SMACKK “….Oww,” they each gasped in turn as he smacked their seats. He watched whilst they waved at the previous prefect, and the Rolls Royce executed a neat three point turn before gliding back towards the main road.
It would appear the guesthouse had been № 3, since № 5 was next, thus his destination should be immediately afterwards. Sure enough it was so, and he headed to the door….DING DONG. Seconds later, it opened, and a hand pulled him inside. “Hello, Shagger,” said his Hostess, “it’s good of you to call….Mmmm,” she added as she kissed him hard. Finally, they separated, and she tugged him by his tie towards one of the downstairs rooms. He followed her inside what looked like the lounge, where two pairs of unhappy twins were waiting for the whacks.
The bad boys were bare with pulsing penises, whereas the guilty girls wore Country’n’Western wear remarkably reminiscent of The Terror Twins. It was with loose-fitting blouses which looked like brassières were an unknown concept on the coast. Then there were rough faded blue denim miniskirts with raw hems and monki buttons down the front. Idly, he wondered which way they undid? The pretty picture was completed with cowgirl crotch crush boots. All four hands were held behind heads in school style.
“Good morning,” he said jovially, “as you’re aware, I’ve been asked to dish you all decisive derrière discipline. I expect you haven’t been whacked for a while, and really the requirement should be regular receipt of the rattan….” he turned towards his Hostess, “….in one way, I’m surprised there aren’t any Caning Ladies available locally who’d be happy to help hit hineys, Ma’am. In my town, there’s no shortage of such suitable swishers….” of which his Mother was one, “….but were you aware you’ve someone from The Styx….I mean St Stricktlands School, living only two doors away….?” she shook her head, “….I’m sure Peter Paten from № 3 would provide plenty of posterior punishments.”
Four pairs of eyes stared at him in obvious annoyance. “I knew his grandmother quite well,” murmured Mrs Dooley, “but I haven’t had much to do with him since he took over The Mould….err….Mound….” so something he had right? “….I wasn’t aware he’d wield the weapon. Is his a chargeable service?” He shook his head. “It’s more a labour of love, Ma’am,” he replied, “although some sort of recompense would be welcome, especially if you’d like to take tanning tuition….” he shrugged, since it might be more sex in exchange for Caning Training, and he still needed to eat, “….but my own strict services are entirely without cost….shall we say, at point of punishment? We’ll make a suitable start with your naughty nephews. The humiliation is hugely higher when their whacks are watched by wanton wicked wenches. Then, whilst we deal with the deviant damsels, it’s their corner time….owing to Maidenly Modesty….” they both stared stonily at him, “….are they here for the weekend?”
She shook her head. “They live with us, Shagger,” she replied, “after our darling daughters arrived, my husband had an affair with my twin Sister, who lives in London. The inevitable result was my naughty nephews. After a year, she decided she couldn’t cope with them in her Islington flat, however Pedro preferred the city life….” she licked her lips, “….try your comic thing skills, and guess his school nickname?” Carefully, he considered the question. “It’s called comiconomenclaturism, Ma’am,” he replied, “and I’d suggest Duly Paid.” She seemed impressed. “Spot on, Shagger,” she said, “anyway, he left me fending for all four felons….” she shrugged, “….they do pay me properly for their maintenance. Even so, none of them have had a father figure.” He nodded with some sympathy, having heard a similar tale of woe from the Tanningtown Templar teacher, Marius Goring. However in this instance it was Wifey which had walked, leaving Goering holding the baby….or rather six year old son.
“Do you know which twin is which?” he asked. “Not really,” she admitted, “I always have to ask.” He pursed his lips, as she handed him her cane. “You could try tattoos,” he said, “The Tribble Triplets at St Sticks have a single small initial of identification at the base of the back.” She seemed taken with it. “An excellent idea,” she said, “with a W and M….for Wilfred and Michael. Although Michaela and Mindy might be another matter?” Surely though it wasn’t insurmountable? “Bend over, bad boys,” he said, “I shall punish you in loco parentis….” In Place Of A Parent, “….for failing an erection inspection so spectacularly. State your name, following your flogging. It will be three strokes each, in the staccato style. I remind you of the Rhyming Responses, which are YEEE on three….or OO on two.”
Swishhhhthwackkkk Swishhhhthwackkkk Swishhhhthwackkkk
“Yeeee..EEEE..HEEE,” he yelped, wiggling his waist, “THREE, thank you, SIR….Wilfred, Sir.” So this was Will Do. “You should stay still,” he said, “since at St Sticks, it would be another whack for Incitement.”
Swishhhhthwackkkk Swishhhhthwackkkk Swishhhhthwackkkk
Yeeee..HEEE..EEEE,” he yelped, likewise wiggling, “THREE, thank you, SIR….Michael, Sir.” By elimination, this was Might Do. “Take a corner each,” he ordered, as they arose and padded away. “Now it’s the guilty girls,” he said, “two strokes each for naughty nipples….unless they’d care to deny it….?” they shook their heads, “….bare your bottoms and bend over to be beaten. This will hurt me more than it hurts you.” Aubrietia Dooley giggled girlishly. “Honestly, Shagger,” she said, “such an old cliché.” He shrugged, as they started with the buttons at the base.
“Really it will, Ma’am,” he insisted, “since I’m wearing a Kali’s Teeth Bracelet….AHHH,” he gasped as his penis attempted an erection. There were no naughty knickers, and he’d caught two glimpses of cute cunt. Even so, from their expressions of puzzlement, they weren’t yet familiar with the diabolical device, “….by kind courtesy of my ménage-à-trois, who wanted to ensure my good behaviour.” She smiled slightly. “So what are they doing in Slappham,” she asked, “whilst you’re whacking wanton wicked wenches?” Easily answered. “They’ll shortly be out somewhere on the Sands, Ma’am,” he replied, “sourcing a suitable selection of studs for screwing….AHHH,” he added, as they presented their particularly pert posteriors for punishment pain.
Swishhhhthwackkkk Swishhhhthwackkkk
“Oooh..HOOH….TWO, thank you SIR,” gasped the first, “I’m Michaela, Sir.” So she was Make Do. “AHHH,” he gasped in penile pain, since it still sounded so much like sex.
Swishhhhthwackkkk Swishhhhthwackkkk
“Oooh..HOOH….TWO, thank you SIR,” gasped the second, “I’m Mindy, Sir.” Or otherwise Mend. “AHHH,” he gasped all over again. “They can watch me apply my Rub-a-dub spoon to the bad boys,” he said, “in a way which will ensure they stay still. It ought to be better than a spanking slipper, and as I said, it’s easy to apply. Step back here lads, and we’ll give it a go….” he waited whilst they returned, with shafts still straining, “….Wilfred first….in the Wheelbarrow Position over my lap, please.” Slowly, he backed up, presenting a punished posterior. “Ohh,” he gasped as his gonads were grabbed. “Having him in hand guarantees good behaviour,” he said, “and he can take the testicle twist too, if necessary.” He took out the spoon…. PHWACKK “….OWW,” PHWACKK “….OWW,” he gasped. “You get the idea,” he said, “now Michael.” He waited whilst they changed places….PHWACKK “….OWW,” PHWACKK “….OWW,” he gasped, identically.
“Discipline duly dished….David,” she said, “they can stay here for more corner time until noon to contemplate their crimes, and then I’ll give them lunch. I’ve prepared you a packed one, so you can take it out onto the beach and do some sunbathing. It’s in the kitchen, so follow me.” She ambled out of the room. “We’ll get you for this, Shagger….” muttered a villain’s voice, “….get you good….somehow,” said a second as he followed his Hostess. It seemed they hadn’t exactly taken their tannings with good grace? “There is one slight problem, Ma’am….” he said, when they reached the right room, “….which is how I haven’t anything to wear.” She waved her hand. “Strip starkers, Shagger,” she said, “whilst I find something suitable.” Slowly, he shed his clothes, stacking everything into a neat pile on the table. Impeccable tidiness had been completely caned into him, first at home by his Mother and secondly at St Sticks.
“Oo..er,” she said, as she returned, “I see what you mean about the KTB….so bang goes my bang, as I’d been hoping….” which couldn’t be helped, “….what’s with the white tape tied around your testicles?” He smiled. “I’m so sorry about the screw, Ma’am,” he replied, “but it’s called Naccatape….” she licked her lips “….as a kind of consolation, could you at least be my balls bulb boy?” He spread his legs. “UGHHH….UGHHH,” he gasped, “BEEP BEEP.” Then she handed him a pair of seriously small swimming trunks. “Ohh,” he gasped as he pulled them up, and sure enough saw an exhibitionist’s parts pushed to prominence without actual exposure. “Nice knackerable nuts,” she said with obvious approval, “however, I’ve had my fun….so here’s your lunch. You can leave your clothes here, and collect them later. I’ve put some sun cream, sunglasses and a towel inside too, since it’s a fairly fine day….” some other things he hadn’t considered, “….so let yourself out, and take it easy for the afternoon….” SMACKK “….Oww,” he gasped, “most certainly, Ma’am.”
He’d no objection to being tapped on the tush by a lovely Lady, although she’d probably be the first to fret if a fella did it to her. He picked the offered beach bag, and padded out of the kitchen. “Bastard,” he heard quite clearly as he passed by the lounge. “Did someone say something?” he heard Mrs Dooley asking. “No, Mum….” was the reply, “….nothing at all, Mum.” Had it been him, he’d have followed up the further felony, with wise words along the lines of: ‘Nothing usually means something, so confess your crimes or it will be more whacks.’ Still, they weren’t HIS sinful sons.
He padded out of the house, and reached the road. Then it was along SANDS CLOSE to THE STRAND. He crossed over it, and the bathing beach was immediately adjacent. Where to sit….and what was the tide doing? It appeared to be on its way out, so he selected a secluded spot from what little was left. He laid out the towel, sat down, and applied a generous helping of sun cream all over his exposed body. He’d lunch later, but for now it was time to try doing nothing actively….another oxymoron, as his dream at the University of Lancashire broke temporarily, before vanishing in the haze and heat of the summer sun.
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