Seaside
David dozed on his derrière, and then turned onto his tummy. It seemed lounging around doing nothing was far more tiring than he’d previously considered. He’d enjoyed lunch, which had even included a big bottle of sparkling water. The last time he’d heard a church clock striking was for 3pm, which was a while ago. Then he heard a fetching floozy. “Nice arse,” it said, sotto voce, “can I have a closer look….? it waited for no negative “….ohh,” he moaned as his trunks were hauled off his hiney, “….definitely a neat little bottom….” FLASHH “….ohh,” he added in slight shock, mentally adding another dollar to his tally. In reverse circumstances, this would all be utterly unacceptable behaviour.
It would be deemed sexual harassment, let alone assault, and a sentence of six months in the slammer. OMG….she was writing on his fanny with a felt-tip pen….SMACKK “….Oww,” he gasped as he looked around. However his antagonist was already ambling away, whilst wiggling her waist. She turned her head and winked once. “AHHH,” he gasped, wondering as always why it was he should be so totally turned on when lovely Ladies were mean to him? Then she was gone, so he rolled over again to take his tush from terrible temptation by teasing Tarts. The sun was still hot, so he closed his eyes, and listened to the soothing sounds of the seaside.
Æons later, he opened them since he seemed to be in shadow? “Nice knackers,” said a second sinful specimen, standing at his feet, and shielding him from the sun. Clearly By-The-Balls Ltd knew what they were doing with their advertising claims. “Nice knockers….AHHH,” he replied flippantly, staring at a brace of beautiful Bristols, even as the bracelet bit him….and he wasn’t even a boobs boy. “Something I said?” she asked. “I’m so sorry, Miss,” he replied, “it’s because my lovely Ladies left me inside a Kali’s Teeth Bracelet.” She knelt down beside him, and softly stroked his shaft. “AHHH,” he gasped at the inevitable result. “Mmmm,” she said, “I see what you mean. Do let me know when you’re next in Slappham at a loose end….” she sniggered softly, “….or your end is loose.” Ha bloody ha, as she too took a felt-tip pen, and wrote something on his left hand before she too wiggled away. Damn his Missus, since despite two obvious offers, it would only be Genuine Jam Tomorrow. Or maybe this evening, always assuming she graciously removed the KTB? He held up his hand to his face: Trixy 24069….thus supposedly a Slappham phone number, as he closed his eyes?
According to the wall calendar, it was 15th March 55BC. Complete claptrap, his brain objected, even though he was kneeling before the impressive figure of Julius Caesar. Beware the Ides….whatever they were? Even so, he remembered from his History lessons how they related to this date, apparently with regrettable results? “Good afternoon, Mr Shagton….” he said in impeccably cultured standard English. Surely this too was total twaddle, since the language had yet to be invented….by a cool thousand years? “….your sentence is one worse than death, since I shall send you to Severus Scrotum….” the name seemed nasty, “….my court Castrator….” Oops, “….you will be known as Enoch the Eunuch….” as he’d feared, “….you’ll soon be serving Caesar, together with the harlots in my harem….” oh dear, “….guards, take him away.” The walls wavered, and then he was lying flat on the floor, with an enormous axe balanced on his bollocks. “So….” said a villain’s voice, full of hatred, “….sodding Shagger, it seems….” Oops, again, “….not so cocky, are we now?” said a second, as the walls of the room came crashing down, and everything started to spin.
He opened his eyes to see both pairs of twins standing over him. One of them had his bare foot on his balls….hence the axe in dreamland? “It’s taken us forever to find you, what with the bathing beach so completely crowded,” said one of the guilty girls, “but now we have, it’s time we showed you some of our own hospitality….” uh..huh, “….we’ll make you a mound….” hopefully not a permanent one? “….the bad boys will do some digging,” added the other, “so we’ll watch, whilst Will and Michael make a trench.” They both sat on him, one on his legs, and the second on his stomach. It enabled him to engage in some Staring At Skirts at close quarters, wrapped enticingly around an adorable arse. “Uhhh,” he added as his testicles were tickled, “….AHHH,” he added as the bracelet countermanded any erection.
“Let’s have a little look at this KTB thing you mentioned to Mother….” once again, he felt his trunks being lowered involuntarily, “….ooh….yes, I like it a lot. Does it hurt, Shagger?” Surely the ministry of the bleedin’ obvious? “Only when I’m stimulated sexually,” he muttered. “Like this?” she asked as she leaned forward, allowing him to indulge in Spying Up Skirts. “AHHH,” he gasped in renewed penile pain as he peeked at pussy. “I’ll have to buy one for my boyfriend….” she said, “….me too,” added the other, “they seem such fun….” for whom, as his trunks were roughly replaced? “….but the fellas have finished....” oh, dear, “….it’s time you joined the daisy department….well almost, since we’ll leave your extremities exposed to the elements.” At least this was something. “Ohh….” he gasped, as he was roughly rolled, “….OHH,” he repeated, as he was tipped into the trench on his back. Then they covered him with sand.
Several minutes later they were finished, and sure enough, only his head and feet were visible. “Would you like an ice cream, Shagger?” one of the guilty girls asked. “No, thanks,” he replied. “Such a shame,” said the other, “since you’re getting one anyway.” He waited whilst the bad boys padded away, and the guilty girls amused themselves by tickling his toes. “OHHH….OHHH….OHHH….OHHH,” he gasped, attempting to thresh wildly, and failing dismally. The weight of all the sand they’d heaped on him was sufficiently heavy to immobilize him completely. “Since it seems you like Spying Up Skirts so much….” said one, “….you can have another treat,” added the other as they both stood very close to his head. “Uhhh….AHHH,” he moaned as he was treated to two tushes, “….AHHH,” he added as they turned around, and now it was two twats.
“Here’s your ice cream cone, Shagger,” said one of the bad boys. “Ughh,” he gasped as it was applied upside down onto his nose. Then it was smeared all over his face. “Such a messy eater,” said one of them, “perhaps some water with which to wash it off?” He smiled sweetly. “I’m afraid I’ve finished what your Mother left me,” he said. “No problem,” said the other, “since there’s no shortage of sea. We’ll go and refill the bottle….be back shortly, don’t go away, Shagger.” Ha bloody ha….but exactly as he’d suspected. “Ughhh….ughhh,” he spluttered as the cold salty water was tipped all over his face. “We’ll love you and leave you,” said one of the guilty girls, “but we want everyone to know you’re a skirt sinner, so we’ve prepared you a sort of memorial headstone.” She held a piece of cardboard close to his head. Oops….as he read the writing.
He had it coming!
He spies up skirts!
Carefully, they affixed it into place with a large driftwood stick. Then they put all his bits and pieces into the bag, and sauntered away with it, still sniggering.
The sun was sinking, and he was still stuck. The bucket and spade brigade had departed in droves, and several people had given him curious glances. Some had started with slight smiles, but sentiments had shifted when they’d seen the notice. The result had been nobody at all interested in offering any assistance….as intended. 5pm had come and gone, and soon afterwards his train, too. He was beginning to become concerned, since time and tide waiteth for no man, and it had been on the turn for quite a while. Possibly he had a couple of hours’ grace, before he found himself meeting Dr Satan for real?
Finally, he heard the clock striking for 7pm….and then help was at hand in the shapely form of Mrs Aubrietia Dooley, together with her naughty nephews. “I’m so sorry about this, Shagger,” she said, “I was wondering where you were, since you hadn’t collected your clothes. When I discovered your beach bag in the bad boys’ bedroom, I demanded answers, on pain of….well, pain. They finally confessed their crimes, and I’ve promised them some substantial slippering….and the Rub-a-dub spoon too, when I can source one. But they can start by shifting some of the sand off you….so get busy, both of you.” They knelt down, with looks which would have torched toast at twendy paces, and roughly removed much of his incarceration.
“Enough,” she said, “it’ll be a quicker way out to extract you by your ankles….” she gestured to them, and they took up their positions, “….take a big breath, since if this doesn’t work, you’re in trouble….heave HO.” It would be a quick way out, though not the one he wanted. Another mental image appeared, this time of The Branch Manager, who induced accidents. “Ahhh….Ahhh,” he gasped as they pulled hard. Then his body moved a few feet, however now his head was beneath the sand. “MMMM….MMMM,” he moaned, keeping his mouth firmly closed, and hoping for the best. Desperately, he tried to thresh his arms, and seconds later he moved further forward before finally he was free. “Huhh…huhh,” he moaned, as he took several grateful gasps, before sitting up slowly.
Then he stood shakily, and dusted down some of the sand. “You look somewhat of a shambles, Shagger,” she said, “which is hardly surprising. You’re welcome to a shower if you wish.” He shook his head. “Thank you for the kind offer, Ma’am,” he said, “but I’m in trouble as it is, as I’ve a date due at eight o’clock.” She nodded. “I agree with your analysis,” she replied, “since there isn’t another train for some time. So I tell you what, I’ll drive you back to school. It’ll be my personal penance for your problems….take my shoulder, Shagger, and we’ll get going. My car’s parked outside our house….” gratefully he did so, and he padded back up the beach, “….as for you two terrors, you’re grounded until I get back.” There were two separate scowls, with daggers drawn. “But MUM….” one whined, “….we both have dates this evening.” She shrugged. “Too bad,” she said, “so you may be late. However, as I said, you’ve some substantial slippering with which to look forward first. I hope they’ll find it funny when you explain to your pretty partners why you have hot bots….and are wearing Standard Schoolboy Spanking Shorts.” Again, if looks could kill, he’d be dead meat.
Then it was across THE STRAND and along SANDS CLOSE to № 7 to where DOL 1E waited. “This is the Dooley Dolly,” she said wittily, unlocking it, “step inside, whilst I get your clothes.” He did so, hoping she wouldn’t mind sand all over her seats? Seconds later she returned, put a carrier bag in the back, and boarded beside him. “I’ll need directions, Shagger,” she said as they headed towards the main road. “It’s quite straightforward, Ma’am,” he replied, “simply follow the B1669 to Stricktlands Village, and then it’s not far along the B1469. I’m most grateful, since it’ll also save a long tiring trek from the railway station.” She gave him a surreptitious sideways glance. “You can put on your clothes en route,” she said, “unless you don’t mind Driving Dubiously Dressed?” He grinned. “A somewhat suspect practice which I really rather enjoy, Ma’am,” he agreed, “basically being bare below the belt, although alternatively in the altogether.”
She gave him a second glance. “In which case,” she said sternly, “now we’re out of town, you can slip off those trunks, and do the job properly.” Yes please, as he shimmied them off, and folded them to the floor. “Thank you for their loan, Ma’am,” he said, “it was most appreciated….as indeed were all the other items, and lunch.” She nodded absently. “It was simply for services rendered, Shagger,” she said, “and I rather agree with you about the receipt of regular rattan on raw rears. By the way, were you Spying Up Skirts, as claimed?” He nodded. “Yes, Ma’am,” he admitted, “albeit with plenty of provocation, since your darling daughters stood over me….AHHH….showing off their seats and slits without the option….AHHH….even so….AHHH….I plead guilty to the charge….” she sniggered softly, “….and should be spanked soundly for such sin….AHHH.”
She giggled girlishly. “I can arrange it easily enough,” she said, “when we see somewhere suitable to stop….” oo..er….yes, MA’AM, “….can I be nosy, and ask for details of your date? Surely she might mind you being….well, out of action in the distended dick department?” He shrugged. “It’s with a professional prostitute, Ma’am….” she shot him a look of shock, “….albeit a previous one, since she’s now on the Staff. She holds a First Class honours degree from Cambridge, and teaches Latin at St Sticks. I hope the KTB issue will be resolved, but if not I shall simply supply cunnilingus, and do the despicable deed with a dildo of some description.”
Once again, she seemed impressed. “Had I known of your prowess with pleasing pussy,” she said, “I’d have suggested something similar, Shagger. I hope you’ll take a seaside trip here again. Perhaps when you’re at University, and want to visit your old Alma Mater….” as indeed a number of previous prefects had done during Year LXXXIX. He’d met four of The Magnificent Seven, and also Relay. Doubtless there’d been many more visits from Sometime Scholars, of which he knew nothing, “….you needn’t book a room at The Mound….” so she was taking more money from the mouth of a hard-working hotelier? “….you can stay the night with me….” with a suggestion of sex? “….did you collect any other offers from Slappham Slappers….as we call ourselves, you appallingly bad boy?”
He nodded. “Two, Ma’am,” he admitted, “one was from….” he looked at his hand, “….Trixy, however the second I can’t yet confirm, since she wrote down her details on my derrière.” She giggled again. “I’ll tell you when I spank it, Shagger,” she said, “so it’s five fuckable floozies in all….” really? “….if we include me, Make Do and Mend, since we’d all be extremely interested in being….well, Shaggered is I suppose the best description….?” he nodded, “….how long is it?” He smiled inwardly. “It’s about another quarter hour to go, Ma’am,” he replied, “and also some seven inches of circumcised sin….” what wit, “….when it’s allowed out to play.” She sniggered softly, but otherwise stayed silent. Once again, the miles and miles passed.
STRICKTLANDS VILLAGE
Oops….since he could see a Police car parked outside Stricktlands Stores. He smiled sweetly and waved once at its single occupant. “You don’t seem to be desperately concerned at being accosted by the local law, Shagger?” she suggested as they left the village at some speed. “No, Ma’am,” he replied, “since I know the Officer concerned. He’s Thor Thring, son of Wodin, appropriately enough. The latter was once The Headmaster of St Sticks, and following his retirement, he still lives locally.” She looked in her mirror. “I hope you’re right,” she said, with degree level doubt evident in her voice, “since he’s following us.” The Police car paced them for several minutes, and finally switched on its siren….NEEE NAWW. “There’s a lay-by just ahead, Ma’am,” he said, “if you’d to pull in there?” She did so, with the Police car parked immediately behind them.
Then the uniformed figure emerged, and ambled towards them, whilst she wound down her window. “Ello..’ello..’ello,” said The Thing, in HIS stilted style of speech, “wot’s hall diss den…?” it rather reminded him of the mythical PC Plod, which dropped every initial H, but added them back where they weren’t wanted, “….dat woz quite a spirited deparchah from duh village, Ma’am….horlthough not quite hillegal. Diss felon ’as form wiv fast floozies hin fast cars….” indeed, he’d once been stopped similarly, with Primula Proffer doing the driving as a stunningly seductive speed sinner, “….since ’e’s somewot starkers, Hi don’t suppose you were habaht to give ’im some sort hov kerbside spankin’ session? It wouldn’t be the first time Hi’ve witnessed ’is whacks from a wanton wicked Witch.” Oops. “He did suggest one, Officer,” she said, “since he’s been a bit of a bad boy….what with Spying up Skirts. I think he ought to be put properly in his place.”
So a typical reinterpretation of events. “Hi suggest you both get haht,” he said, “hand den ’e can go hacross duh ’ood.” They both emerged, and he padded around the car, before bending over the bonnet. “Han Interestin’ motif,” he continued, “since ’is ’iney happears to ’old a name hand phone numbah.” She licked her lips. “Ohh,” he moaned as she fondled his fanny. “Your second Slappham Slapper is Betsy, on 26948,” she confirmed, “I know her family of old, since she lives along from us at № 29 SANDS CLOSE. She was born Elizabeth Evans, so suppose you guess her nickname?” SMACKK SMACKK “….Oww….AHHH,” he gasped as the KTB kicked in again, “….AHHH….I’d suggest Heavens To Betsy, Ma’am….SMACKK SMACKK “….Oww,” he gasped. “Quite correct,” she agreed, “but nobody likes a smart arse.” SMACKK SMACKK “….Oww….I’m so sorry, Ma’am….” SMACKK SMACKK “….Oww….AHHH….I know I’m a Cocky Little Blighter….” SMACKK SMACKK “….AHHH….Oww….which should be shown who’s Superior….ohh,” he added as she fondled his fanny. “Fetch your spanking spoon, Shagger,” she ordered, “and we’ll give this nice Officer a demonstration of discipline.”
He took several steps, and opened the rear door. Then he rummaged around inside the bag, until he found his jacket. “This is a Rub-a-dub spoon, Thor,” he said, as he handed it to her, “which I borrowed from Stinks. I’d actually commend it to your father, since he’s said to me several times about how his caning arm isn’t what it once was.” Then he took up his place against the car again….PHWACKKK “….OWW….” PHWACKKK “….OWW….” PHWACKKK “….OWW….AHHH….” PHWACKKK “….OWW….AHHH….” PHWACKKK “….OWW….” PHWACKKK “….OWW….” PHWACKKK “….OWW….” PHWACKKK “….OWW….AHHH….” he concluded. “Himpressive,” said Thor Thring, “Halthough hit’s getting’ late, so hif you’d like to be honn your way ’ome, Hi’ll sort hout Shagger from ’ere honn hin.”
She handed David the spoon. “Thank you, Officer,” she said, “I appreciate it, since I still have to slipper my two naughty nephews, before they’re allowed out on the town….” she opened the rear door again, “….here’s your stuff, Shagger.” He accepted the carrier bag. “Thank you, Ma’am,” he said, slipping the spoon inside, “for all your help and assistance this afternoon.” She shrugged as she boarded her car. “Thanks for yours this morning,” she replied, as she started the engine. Then she turned around in the lay-by, and was gone with a cheery wave. “Hop in, Shagger,” said Thor Thring, reverting to ordinary English. “Ahhh,” he gasped as he sat down in the passenger seat, and his raw rear reminded him of the substantial spankings he’d suffered. He put the bag onto his lap, and then they too were away.
It was only a couple of minutes before they turned off the public highway, and under the wrought-iron arches. “Father was most appreciative of your recent visit to Stern Hall,” he said as they continued along the carriage drive. Do let me know if you need any future further assistance with cheating on cross-country runs.” Maybe this might be managed? “Perhaps next Saturday morning, Thor,” he said, “I’ve assured Have A Thrash I might manage one more before the end of term. In one way, it’ll be a mission of mercy for my former dorm mate William Shanks. He’s going to be rusticated for a week, starting next Friday afternoon, the same me last Autumn. If it’s cross-country for his Games day, I can help him….” he watched, whilst Big Ben slowly swung into view.
The time was 7.49pm, very reasonable since he’d expected to arrive hours late, if at all, “….although he doesn’t deserve it, given how horrid he’s been to me all year. Still, I do feel some responsibility for grassing him up, even though I didn’t have much choice. Terrence told me it was an open-ended caning, until I confessed his crime….” he grinned, “….Madam Dee’s Reformatory during the holidays was a welcome first step, but she said Iron Will’s small submissive side should be stimulated. Perhaps a quick kidnap, and time of total terror at the hands of the Sadistic Screws….followed by Ten:PM:GMT….?” there was a neat nod, “….could you could hold yourself in readiness for….say ten to ten at The Dell? I’ll confirm by phone on the Friday, when I have his timetable.”
The buildings quickly became closer. “I’ll look forward to it, Shagger,” he said, “by the way, who was the lovely Lady? We weren’t exactly introduced.” He opened the car door. “Sorry, Thor,” he said, “Her name is Aubrietia Dooley, who lives in Slappham-on-Sea. We met at The Stern Maiden last term, and she suggested I might dish discipline to her darling daughters and naughty nephews. The reason I ended up like this was because they later took their revenge, and buried me on the beach during the afternoon. She graciously agreed to drive me home afterwards, since I’d missed my train….” he shrugged, “….I suppose I could have changed, but I do enjoy Driving Dubiously Dressed.”
Then they reached the main entrance hall, and the car drew to a halt on the graded gravel. “My date’s at eight o’clock,” he continued, “although I won’t need my clothes, since I’ve a special uniform provided for the purpose.” The Policeman licked his lips. “Which is, Shagger?” he asked. “It’s a Dominican monk’s black habit,” he replied, “simply superb for scourging, since she’s playing submissive….and fancies flagellation fun….” he opened the car door, “….thanks again and goodnight, Thor.” He stepped out. “Goodnight, Shagger,” he said, and then the Policeman was away. Quickly, he padded through the double doors of the main entrance hall, and past the huge hanging portraits of the Mercer family. He selected the correct one of six identical exits, which would take him to the Abbey area. Then he switched mentally into the mindset of a Superior Sir. Soon, he reached his destination.
The Cloisters
verbera experti insuper
“Greetings, Shagger….” said a floozy with a fetching face, standing by the huge heavy timbered door, and similarly starkers, “….Sue Sweet escorted me down here a few minutes ago. It was kind of her to do so, since otherwise I’d never have found it. She said I should strip, on the basis of any clothing being unnecessary, so she’s taken my stuff back to your study for safekeeping. I note the Latin logo, which is Scourging And Moreover….” exactly as Amen Carmen had claimed, “….you seem a sight….perhaps I shouldn’t say anything about hedges….Mmmm,” she added as he kissed her, hard. “Actually, Primula….AHHH,” he said as they’d separated, “it was being dragged through some sand forwards….AHHH….however I hope it’ll add some sort of macho male caveman appeal….AHHH….just right for a rapist.”
She shivered. “How so, Shagger?” she asked, “having seen and felt your fancy, it’s quite constrained by a KTB? Against all protestations, I wanted plenty of painful poking punishments. I always enjoyed a bit clit, but until recently I hadn’t realized how much of a pussy pain slut I am. However I doubt you can deliver any distended dick.” Maybe he might, as he turned the huge cast-iron key, duly left in the lock by The SS. “I’ve a horrid habit,” he said darkly, “as you should see, shortly.” He pulled it open, and accompanied her through. Immediately, the series of bulkhead lights automatically illuminated, activated by motion detectors. “This is what little there’s left of the original Abbey of St Eſſstrict,” he continued, as he set down the bag, “but rather than leaving it as a ruin, the Mercer family simply patched it up, and built their Stricktlands Hall over it….” he picked up and put on the Dominican monk’s black habit, “Oo..er,” she said, her eyes wide, “….for role-play, you can be Sister Fallon, and I shall be Prior Pious for the purpose….” what wit, “….there’s some more to see, so follow me down the stone spiral staircase.”
She followed him around, until they reached what was now the bondage basement. “Step inside a cell, Sister,” he ordered, “facing the wall.” As adorned with rather rough and rusty cast-iron hardware. She offered out her arms and legs. “Oh,” she gasped as he shackled her wrists and ironed her ankles. Then he selected a studded scourge, as he’d recently used on the Parish Priest. “Oo..er,” she murmured as he held high the eleven lengths of lovely long leather, each one knotted nastily at irregular intervals.
“It seems Sister Fallon has fallen,” he said wittily, “so your filthy fancy will find fustigation….” Flogging, and she shivered in anticipation, “….after some formal flagellation, for the failings of the flesh. You will take it to the torso, before Prior Pious tackles your twat. We’ll use the Rapid Responses….” which were rather rare, “….thus there’s no need to count, nor offer any affirmation, contrition or salutation.” Thwackk “….Ahhh….” Thwackk “….Ahhh….” Thwackk “….Ahhh….” Thwackk “….Ahhh,” she gasped as he scourged her soundly, “….now, those lovely legs,” Thwackk “….Ahhh….” Thwackk “….Ahhh….” Thwackk “….Ahhh….” Thwackk “….Ahhh,” she gasped each time. “Excellent….AHHH,” he gasped as the KTB hit him, “finally, your fancy.” She struggled strongly against the shackles, “NO,” she shouted, “mercy, Prior Pious.” As always, an excellent example of subaudition, as in Grahame’s Guide to Grandiloquisms. It was where a word or phrase meant something other than it purported, in this case Yes.
“No mercy it is, Sister….AHHH,” he agreed, with the usual wilful misunderstanding, “….so we’ll begin.” She made an abortive attempt to protect her pussy by closing her legs, an action which achieved nothing….Thwapp “….UGHHH….” Thwapp “….UGHHH….” Thwapp “….UGHHH….” Thwapp “….UGHHH….SIR,” she moaned, “hit it HARDER, Sir….uhhh….my slit’s so sinful….uhhh….I know it needs it.” So Stop It I Like It? THWAPP “….URGHHH….” THWAPP “….URGHHH….” THWAPP “….URGHHH….I’m cumming….UHHH….YESS.” The same as Amen Carmen had said, in similar circumstances. Hopefully, her strap-on dildo would still be present in the pocket? He rummaged around in the folds of cloth, finally found it, and appended it accordingly. “This is a suitably spiked shaft, Sister,” he whispered into her ear, “which will provide plenty of pussy punishment pain.” But also pleasure, he strongly suspected. “UGHHHH….ARGHHH….” she shouted in sexual stress as she was screwed, “….UGHHHH….ARGHHH….I’m cumming again….YESS….YESS….YESS.” Slowly, her breathing settled. “More?” she asked, hopefully.
He’d fucked her flogged fancy a further four times, and she was soaked with sweat. Even though, as he released her ankle irons, lovely Ladies shine. “We will away,” he said as he pocketed the strap-on. Then he released her wrists, and she fell forward over him. She’d once told him how she enjoyed the thought of being slung over a stud’s shoulder prior to rape, so this was a further fantasy he could follow. Slowly, he padded out of the cell and into the basement. The bulkhead lights illuminated immediately, and he continued to the spiral staircase. Up and around he went with difficulty, until he reached The Cloisters again. He picked up his bag of clothes with his free hand, and then it was back through the heavy timbered door. He closed and locked it, putting the key in a pocket, before heading back into the opulence of Stricktlands Hall.
Several minutes later, he was back into the familiar frugality of the main school buildings, with the first of the long, dark cold corridors. They reached the entrance hall for the Prefects’ Study wing, and he started up the first flight of empty stone steps. They weren’t echoing from his padded passing, but from distant discipline. “Huhh….huhh,” he huffed as they reached the penultimate flight. He’d done well with his load, although doubtless Ava Frasch would claim he was already becoming out of condition again. Still, he might be doing his final cross-country run in a week’s time, which would hopefully keep her happy? Maybe not, personal demon replied as he continued to climb, since surely he’d be cheating his wicked way out of most of it? Then the reached the Level 6 landing, and continued down into the gloomy corridor. The Cunt At Infinity, the mathematical construct of his own making. It represented a destination desperately desirable in the distance, but utterly unattainable. Fortunately, study 24 didn’t quite fall into the same category….and hopefully neither would the cutie he was currently carrying?
David Shagton
Quis illum sceleratum fuisse putavisset
Who Would Have Thought He Was A Rascal as he pushed open the door, padded inside and set down the bag of clothes. He switched on the main light, and took several steps towards his table. Excellent….since it bore a small padlock key. “Your luck is in,” he said as he laid her down on it, “or out, since it seems Sister Brenda has been here already, and decided to be gracious….or not.” He padded across to his back wall, and selected four sets of handcuffs. Then he returned and proceeded to immobilize her again. Each was attached to a table leg, with her legs spread wide, plus a properly presented pussy. “Ohh….ohh,” he moaned with real relief as he removed the Bracelet.
They both watched whilst his willy wavered. “It is indeed seven inches of circumcised sin, Prior Pious,” she whispered, “and there is nothing at all I can do to stop it from having its wicked way. Screw my sinful slit, as I know it to be.” He’d be happy to help. “Since you should suffer,” he mused, “I shall put on a rubber Spiked Shaft Sheath….” another interesting item, “….unlike the KTB, it will not worry my willy, but the process of poking will provide plenty of pussy pain.” He opened one wardrobe, and rummaged around inside Her Box Of Tricks until he found the offending item. “Ohh,” he whispered as he slipped it onto his pulsing penis. Then he moved forward, to finally fuck her fallen fancy. “UHHH….AHHH,” she gasped as the spikes scraped her slit.
She was wringing wet from previous poking, and for the second time today, there was very little friction from the fuck. “UHHH,” he moaned, already fully inside, and his balls bounced against her beautiful butt. “UHHH….AHHH…..punish my pussy, Prior Pious,” she urged, “it should suffer some semen….UHHH….AHHH….for all its sins.” He wouldn’t worry himself with the apparent contradictions in her theology. However he could help the harlot….and seemingly in only a few short seconds, from the state of his straining shaft. “UHHH….UHHH,” he moaned as he humped her hard. Here’s to you, Carmen, his brain added, as he fulfilled his previous promise to the Parish Priest. “UHHH….AHHH,” she gasped, “I shall certainly spurt soon, Sister Fallon,” he assured her, “UHHH….yes….YESS….YESS….” he held her hips hard, and spurted several times, “….YESS….YESS,” she shouted, clearly cumming again.
Patiently, he waited until the study had stopped spinning. “Ahhh….” she gasped as he withdrew his soft shaft, “….ohh….ohh,” she added as he released the handcuffs, and she sat up slowly, rubbing her wrists. “Should we shower….Shagger?” she suggested, “since I’m seriously shining….” quod erat demonstrandum, or Thus It Has Been Proved, “….and you’re still somewhat sandy?” He nodded, took her hand, and together they padded across the study. Inside the shower room, he took off his habit, and folded it neatly to the floor. Mitches could clean the strap-on in the morning, since this sort of service was what fags were….well, not paid for doing. Then they stepped into the cubicle, and he turned on the tap. “Ohh,” he moaned as the wonderfully warm water cascaded down. “Since you’re still wearing Naccatape, Shagger,” she said, “will you be my balls bulb boy….since I didn’t achieve it earlier?”
He spread his legs. “UGHHH….UGHHH,” he gasped, “BEEP BEEP.” His hands held her hiney, and stroked her seat. “Thank you so much for this session, Shagger,” she said as she soaped them both, “since as I once explained to you, professional prostitutes don’t usually allow clients to do Dominant. It’s because it might easily become real rape….” or worse, as she’d said, without paying for pussy, “….therefore, my own personal peccadilloes and filthy fantasies remained fairly unfulfilled….until I started teaching at St Sticks. I’m pleased to say I’ve more than made up for it over the past few weeks. However, I’m sorry to say No Good Turn Goes Unpunished….” as per the unwritten rule, “….and you should still suffer your Sex Thrashing….” thus payment in pain, rather than new pounds, “….I remind you my cunt currency is a nasty nine. However, there’s no charge for all the previous pokes with the strap-on.” Just as well, as they allowed the water to rinse them off.
Finally they finished, and he turned off the tap. They stepped out of the shower, and dried themselves down. She put on a black shower robe, and he took her hand as they returned to the main study. “Feel free to select something suitable for swishing….Ma’am,” he said, as he turned off the main light, and switched on the bedside one before lying down. OMG….it was going to be the Malacca model, for the second time today. “I shall make it snappy, Shagger,” she said, “without any of the studied sadism which is so much your speciality….” a hard charge, since most swishers at St Sticks were the same, “….and staccato style, in threes.” He was grateful for small mercies, as a quick caning was much easier to bear than a slow one….especially après-sexe, without any sexual imperative to ease the pain.
SWISHHTHWACKKKKK SWISHHTHWACKKKKK SWISHHTHWACKKKKK
“YEEE..HEEE..EEEE….THREE, so sorry, MA’AM,” he yelped.
SWISHHTHWACKKKKK SWISHHTHWACKKKKK SWISHHTHWACKKKKK
“YEOOW..OWWW..WOWW….SIX….so sorry, MA’AM,” he gasped.
SWISHHTHWACKKKKK SWISHHTHWACKKKKK SWISHHTHWACKKKKK
“YIKES..YIKES..YIKES….NINE, so sorry, MA’AM,” he gasped, “thank you for my Caning For Cunt, and the privilege of poking your pussy….ohh,” he added as she fondled his fanny and stroked the three stripes. “It’s bedtime, bad boy….” she said, setting down the stick, “….I’ll stay here until three o’clock tomorrow morning, since I expect you’ve another date due….” indeed so, although with whom was another matter? “….so slumber soundly, and thanks again.” Together, they snuggled beneath the bedclothes.
Goodnight, Primula,” he whispered, “I’m really glad everything’s turned out so well for you here at St Sticks….ohh,” he added as he finally removed the naccatape from his knackers. He put it onto the bedside cabinet, and switched out the light. Suddenly the study was in darkness, as she snuggled up to him. “Me too, Shagger,” she agreed as she hugged him, “a well-paid dream job with plenty of pokeable penis, and punishable posteriors. What more could a wanton wicked Witch want?” Surely a rhetorical question, as slowly he slipped towards sleep.
To be continued……
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