Sunday Specials
The main school clock tower known as Big Ben was striking six when William Shanks awoke with a sudden start. He’d been blissfully asleep, mentally back in the sanctity of his own study. Alas, grim rusticated reality rapidly returned. With it was the knowledge of how he was presently a pupil In The Pink again. Thus far it had only been a couple of days, yet already it seemed forever. Then he heard some scraping sounds from beside bed Z, situated in the centre of Dorm 6X, and slowly he opened his eyes.
Oops….since it seemed he was surrounded by six shamelessly straining shafts. Hardly surprising, since they were The Six X-hibiti♂nists. “A very good morning to you, Wanker Boy Will,” said his temporary dorm captain, “as you doubtless just heard, it’s a bright and sunny six o’clock. However, being a Sunday we don’t need to report for fagging until eight….” fair enough, “….so we thought we’d use the time to our best advantage….” but not necessarily his? “….rather than wait until Monday evening to get the….well, unpleasantness out of the way….” there were six sets of sniffs, and he was sure he’d heard the words, ‘big bastard,’ spoken several times, “….which will then allow The Amaz♀ns much more time to work me over, Sir,” he suggested, “although sodding Shagger’s suggestion of split slots is still sound. I’m sure there’ll be no shortage of studs and sluts all anxious to see me suffer. However I’m highly happy to have this whole session serving Servalan….on my knees.” She being the captain of dorm 5A, whom he’d met the previous day as a Dell boy.
“I know just what you mean,” mused Aesop Hislop, “since I’ve been kidnapped by them on a couple of occasions. They were good fun last year, but with the Supreme Commander of the Terran Federation now in control, it’s outstandingly erotic evening entertainment….” he shivered, “….her severe style of short black hair is so similar to the ancient Actress Jacqueline Pearce….” so sodding Shagger had said, “Ohh,” he gasped as his bedclothes were unceremoniously yanked off the bed, “….wassamatter, Shanks? By all accounts, your prefect peer was rudely awakened like this every morning from The Six Nasties during HIS rustication….” he was only grateful not to have been billeted likewise in dorm 6N, “….and it seems you and your dearest dorm mates treated him twice to the attentions of The Boot Boys during your proper period In The Pink….” totally true, “….what goes around….well, cums around….” very fucking funny, “….so now it’s YOUR turn, with the boot on the other foot….so to speak.”
He took a deep breath, to try and calm his nerves. “But what did I do to you, Sir?” he asked, feeling it was futile. “Essentially the same sin as to dorm 5X downstairs in The X-p♂sers, Shanks,” he replied, “an alleged case of Dorm Disorder. In our case it stems from the last occasion you were on the graveyard shift….” the morning Curfew Monitor, “….and again wholly unjustified….” he winked once, “….I suppose we did enjoy it ever-so slightly. Somehow, utterly unfair floggings always have had an odd attraction….” he made a mental note to tell them about Apocryphal Scholar Saturdays, “….meantime, put him into position, two six…HUP.”
Several pairs of helping hands lifted him bodily from the bed. In an instant, his back and body were lying flat on the wooden floor, and his legs spread wide. “Dorm captain’s privilege to go first, Shanks,” he said, towering over him, “with some good grinding. You can submit at any point in the proceedings.” He gritted his teeth, whilst waiting for the worst. “UGHHH….UGHHH….UGHHH….” he gasped as his gonads were ground around with the studded football boot, “….UGHHH….UGHHH….UGHHH….I submit, SIR….uhhh,” he concluded. “It’s Noddy next,” he said, “we won’t worry with full names just yet, since you’ll discover them soon enough….” he paused, “….you can sign everyone’s Stretch Slave Sheet shortly.”
He shivered. “Yes, Sir….huhh,” he said, “but feel free to knacker my nuts, and demand your dues at any time during the week. I may be a Dominant dolt in disciplinary disposition, but strangely enough I do enjoy having a hand squeezing and stretching my scrotum. I suspect sodding Shagger’s the same, since he once told me how his favourite friend put a particularly pithy perspective on the practice. First it’s the flex of the fingers, then the feel on the flesh, followed by the flat forehand, and finally the fear of a fuck-free future fate.” There were several sniggers, even as the shafts all strained again. He glanced down, and saw his own was similarly so. “They’re certainly several sound sentiments to savour, Shanks,” said Noddy as he moved into place. “UGHHH….UGHHH….UGHHH….” he gasped as this time the boot was vigorously ground up and down, “….UGHHH….UGHHH….UGHHH….I submit, SIR….uhhh,” he added.
Maybe he might now have some sneaking sympathy for sodding Shagger in similar circumstances? “Next it’s Fill Up De Gas,” said the dorm captain as the third boot appeared. “I prefer to put on pressure,” he said, “which is nothing if not appropriate….given the gas, as opposed to gasoline.” Ha bloody ha. “UGHHH….UGHHH….UGHHH….UGHHH….UGHHH….I submit, SIR….uhhh,” he moaned as his scrotum was squashed soundly. “The remaining three will consecutively kick your crotch….” said Aesop Hislop, clearly having arranged it all in advance, “….so stand him up, chaps….” he was hauled to his feet, with his arms and legs held hard by Noddy and Fill Up De Gas, “….first it’s Ed The Ted.” This wasn’t looking good….WHUMPP “….URGHHH….” his world wavered, “….uhhh….I submit, SIR….uhhh,” he moaned. “Next it’s Cliff Richard.” Presumably nicknamed after the ancient pop singer? WHUMPP “….URGHHH,” he moaned again, as his legs wilted, “uhhh….uhhh….I submit, SIR….uhhh….uhhh.” Still he was held in place. “Finally, it’s Ghost,” announced Arse Up Aesop. Something more substantial than a spectre, he suspected? Sure enough….WHUMPP “….URGHHH,” he moaned in acute agony.
This time his limbs were loosed and he fell to the floor, whilst whooping well. “HUHH….HUHH….HUHH,” he huffed, “huhh….I submit, SIR….huhh….are we done, Sir….huhh?” He was mortified when the dorm captain shook his head. “Nope,” he said, “now you suffer some sound spanking from each of us in turn. Since there’s no school today, your seat shouldn’t become so sore….” ordinarily true, “….and we can therefore administer the aches onto your arse with a clear conscience.” But not necessarily, in view of his two Sunday Specials, each of which would involve a Caning For Cunt. He’d no idea of the teachers’ currencies, although he’d be finding out the hard way. “Yes Sir….huhh,” he said, slowly sitting up, “….shall we work our way around the dorm….huhh….starting with you at bed A?”
There were six neat nods, so he crawled towards it. In the evening, he suspected he’d be doing something similar, albeit ridden around the room by some sort of sinful slut? Interestingly, erectile excitement indicated he might even enjoy the experience? “I’ll have you in the Wheelbarrow Position, Shanks,” said the dorm captain, patting his lap. He turned around, and again some helping hands assisted in raising his legs so they were astride the body on the bed. His head and shoulders were still on the floor, however he felt very vulnerable. “A particularly pert and punishable posterior, Shanks,” he said, which certainly seemed to be the general opinion, albeit rather more often recently….Smackk Smackk “….Oww,” he gasped as each side was struck in turn….Smackk Smackk “….Oww,” Smackk Smackk “….Oww.”
“If you’d care to sign, Shanks,” he said, several minutes of spanking later, “I’ll demand my dues.” He watched whilst a piece of paper plus pen were placed in front of his face.
St Stricktlands School Stretch Slave Sheet for: Aesop Hislop
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.
With a grimace, he signed away his pride in the next available space…. William Shanks. “AHHH….AHHH….AHHH…..AHHH,” he gasped as his scrotum was stretched soundly, “AHHH….AHHH….AHHH….AYEEEEE….I am your stretch slave, SIR….ohh,” he added as again he was lifted bodily, and transferred to a similar spot by bed B. “Welcome to The Land Of Nod,” said Noddy, “which is what I shall call my study next term.” Very witty….Smackk Smackk “….Oww,” he gasped all over again….Smackk Smackk “….Oww,” Smackk Smackk “….Oww….” he signed the sheet for James Nodden, “AHHH….AHHH….AHHH….AHHH….me balls….AYEEEEE….I am your stretch slave, SIR.”
He was removed bodily across to bed C, with another Wheelbarrow….Smackk Smackk “….Oww,” Smackk Smackk “….Oww….” he signed forPhilippe de Gascoigne, “AHHH….AHHH….AHHH….AHHH….AYEEEEE….I am your stretch slave, SIR.” Halfway at least, he hoped, since his seat was stingingly sore. “I’ll have him across my knee conventionally,” called out the occupant of bed D as he was carried to the second side of the dorm. “Ohh….” he moaned as he was laid down lengthways, “….uhhh,” he added as the legs were closed. “You’ve had it easy so far, Shanks,” he continued, “since it’ll be the spanking slipper from me….and I think other equally interesting items from my remaining colleagues in crime.” SMACKK SMACKK “….Oww,” he gasped as it was liberally laced.
After another age of an aching arse, he signed the sheet for Edward Teddington. “AHHH….AHHH….AHHH….AHHH….AYEEEEE….I am your stretch slave, SIR.” he gasped, “ohh….ohh,” he added as the legs loosed. Then he was carried to bed E, and placed in the same position. “My turn,” said his spanker, “and this time it’ll be the wooden spoon.” Again, he gritted his teeth….SMACKK SMACKK “….Oww,” he gasped again and again. Finally, he focussed on the fifth sheet, and signed for Richard Clifford. Then he was lifted up, and placed across the remaining lap on bed F. “I have this nice steel foot rule, Shanks,” he heard, “it’s quite short, but really packs a punch. You may recall learning about the White Stag Dining Club in History, so think yourself lucky it’s not a longer length.” Yes….he rather recalled the initiation rites for their new nax….or knackers.
Apparently, it was by telling dirty jokes whilst being beaten on the bare bottom by the flat of Kaiser Wilhelm II’s sword….SMACKK SMACKK “….Oww,” he gasped. “Wie hat Fräulein Kristen Keeler einen Splitter in ihre Fotze bekommen?” he enquired of his hitter. Hopefully the rude riddle would work well? “Ich weiβ nicht,” he replied, clearly also being a German garçon, and obviously not knowing the answer. “Sie hatte dort oben die Hälfte des Schranks, eure Majestät,” he explained wittily….SMACKK SMACKK “….Oww,” SMACKK SMACKK “….Oww,” he gasped all over again.
“For the benefit of the Latin lads and Spanish señors among us, Shanks,” he said didactically, “I shall translate your ribald and rather risqué riddle, itself a historical antiquity from the scandal in the swinging 1960’s: How did Christine Keeler get a splinter up her cunt? The answer so painfully provided was: She had half the Cabinet up there, your majesty….very droll. But maybe there’s mileage in us setting up something similar next term?” There were several sniggers. “We’ll make Shanks the first honorary member….SMACKK SMACKK “….Oww,” SMACKK SMACKK “….Oww,” he gasped at the spanks which were clearly his reward for such wit.
Finally, he felt fingers under his fanny. He saw the sixth sheet, and signed Malcolm Gorst. “AHHH….AHHH….AHHH….AHHH….AHHH….AYEEEEE….I am your stretch slave, SIR,” he gasped. “You seem to be a bit hot and bothered, Shanks,” said the dorm captain without sympathy, “so a soothing shower should assist. It’ll be a nice long one, the same as you sentenced us….you big bastard….” Oops, “….so it’s a case of Mrs Doasyouwouldbedoneby.” From the pen of Charles Kinglsley with The Water Babies, if he recalled it right? “….and ever so apt. We’ll help you along, should you be feeling fragile.” Once again he was lifted high, and carried down the dorm towards his doom.
They entered the shower room, whereupon he was dumped unceremoniously onto the floor. “Ohh….” he gasped in shock as they turned on two spigots together, “….ughhhh….” he spluttered as one of them fell full on his face, “….UGHHH,” he added as the second such strafed his scrotum. All right, so this was a sin he actually enjoyed, although with hot water the sensation was much more pleasurable. Inevitably he saw his shaft softening, so chalk one up for the school of thought which held how such showers were an answer to perennial penile problems. “Maybe your male meat needs many more minutes of maceration,” he said, “or softening by soaking….” very fucking funny, “….you can stay put until Big Ben strikes for a quarter past seven, Shanks,” he said sourly as they trooped out, all smiles.
Æons later, he heard it strike. Slowly, he struggled to his feet, and turned off the taps. He was freezing cold, and his shaft had long since shrivelled. Then he took a towel, and attempted to dry himself down. It was always amazing how cold water always resisted all efforts, and seemed to take forever to transfer. However he persevered, and finally he was finished. Slowly, he padded back into the main dorm, which at first sight appeared to be empty. Then it became apparent his de facto dorm mates were all sitting on his bed. “Welcome back….Will,” said Arse Up Aesop, “having duly dealt with the difficulties, which I must say you took manfully well, we’re all firm friends for the remainder of the week….as you suggested on Friday….” he paused, “….ordinarily I’d suggest St Stickshakes at this stage, however I suspect your scrotum’s somewhat sore….” completely correct, although hopefully his gonads would get over it? “….we’ve still some time for a first friendly fireside chat before fagging. So we’ll stay seated, except I daresay you may wish to remain standing?”
He nodded. “It’s fine by me, Sir,” he said, “but first of all, I’d like to pick up on one item earlier. You might all wish to be aware of a facility offered by Terrence during the Summer Term. It’s called Apocryphal Scholar Saturdays, whereupon prefects report to his study whilst playing In The Pink. It goes back to the old story of the goody two-shoes who’d never been swished, but had always wanted the whacks. One day, he was told to request a replacement rattan from his Headmaster. However what he actually said was: Please Sir, my teacher sent me for the cane….with inevitable results. It’s not a flogging for the faint-hearted, and I gather every applicant always ends up with eighteen strokes in all….like The Big One. Obviously, it finds favour with the subbies and switches.”
There were several sniggers. “I can certainly see myself doing so….” said Noddy, “….and me,” said Cliff Richard, “since I suspect I might suffer from swishing withdrawal symptoms, when I’m not being beaten all the time next term.” Which was precisely the point. “Reggie offers a similar service,” he said, “you can always attend his study for some suitable stick. But for anyone interested, there are also the Prefects VD Classes....which are Voluntary Detentions, and nothing clinically nasty. You’ll understand I’ve never actually attended any myself, but I understand they prove popular….” he smiled, “….and take place every evening in the Original Teaching wing. Room 20 contains deliciously dated Detention Desks, which I strongly suspect would be straight up your street. You sit on a single slat, with your posterior protruding for punishment….excellent for exhibitionists….” from the several smiles, it certainly seemed so, “….then there are the weekly Caning Contests, which are held on Wednesdays in The Canteen after dinner’s done. The idea is to establish who can take the most whacks without crying. So there’s still no shortage of swishing, except it’s much more consensual caning….as opposed to dished discipline.” Once again, there were several sniggers.
“Thanks for this intelligence, Will,” said the dorm captain, “it’s all nice to know for next term. Now we can tell you about some items of interest….to a fellow exhibitionist, which we reckon you really are at heart….” good of him to say so, since it was a conclusion he was himself reaching rapidly, “….Shagger’s supposedly stated he’d have done well in this dorm, and given all his antics we can only agree. But have you heard about Driving Dubiously Dressed….?” he shook his head, “….obviously it’s easier when you’ve passed your test, and are allowed out in a car on your own. It’s a somewhat suspect practice, but basically it’s being bare below the belt….although alternatively in the altogether. It facilitates a frisson of freedom, and it’s excellent for exhibitionists everywhere….interesting, I can see it finds favour with your fancy.” He glanced down, and sure enough there was evident erectile excitement.
“In the past,” he agreed, “my wllly would have wavered wildly. However, I’m now able to show off my shaft shamelessly….hopefully with personality, poise and panache. Even Have A Thrash mentioned yesterday morning before the cross-country run about how easy it was to spot specimens from dorms 5X and 6X....” they all nodded, knowingly, “….I suppose a precursor to today was in The X-p♂sers a while back. As you said, I swished them all soundly for the same sin of doubtful Dorm Disorder. But even so at the time, I recall having a horrible urge to share my straining shaft with them….like I’m doing now. My filthy feelings were crystallized on Friday when Mississippi had me Walk The Plank in Swimming, with a class of Brownies. It felt so GOOD when I stood on the top diving board, presenting my pulsing penis in public….even though I wasn’t completely competent….” he shrugged, “….I suppose it’s a fine dividing line between horrendous humiliation and erotic exhibitionism. Talking of which, I don’t recall any of you ever being put into the Public Playground Pillory?”
They shook their heads, sadly. “Cliff,” said Arse Up Aesop, “suppose you tell him about the first time in the Autumn term when the evening Curfew Supervisor discovered the porn we’d carefully placed for precisely this purpose?” The other boy grinned ruefully. “We tried, Will,” he said, “it was like this.”
The time was 10.35pm, and the plan was ready. They’d put WANKER! onto bed A, and were all staring sinfully at the centre spread. Somehow, it was her disdain and disgust which worked wonders with their willies. “Off we go, chaps,” said the dorm captain, “see you in church….uhhh….uhhh,” he moaned as they all stroked their shafts together. Almost at once, the main lights went on. “Wankometer violation in dorm 6X,” said an amused vixen’s voice from the loudspeaker, “stand by your beds, and the Supervisor will attend imminently.” They reckoned on having sufficient time to get the spunk out, since they were so full and frustrated. “UHHH….UHHH….YESS,” he moaned, with all the others following in short order. They’d mopped themselves down with tissues, and were standing with their hands held behind their heads when Section Officer Maggie Rifkin marched into the dorm. She was wearing her RAF uniform, which somehow still seemed strict and sexy. “Atten..SHUN,” she ordered, as they closed their legs. Her eyes fell onto the bed, followed by their six soft shafts.
“It appears I’m too late to stop your sin,” she said, “so it’ll be the standard three strokes for a first Wankometer violation…followed by my Officer’s crop to the crotch for spurting….” Ouch, “….the Perusal of porn normally means the Public Playground Pillory….” which WAS the idea, “….but since you’ve clearly left WANKER! for me to find, I can only suppose this is some sort of carefully cultivated crime….” rumbled, he reflected, “….also there’s no point at all in putting….well, exhibitionists into it, since it would be a pleasure rather than a punishment….” drat, “….therefore I will dish you Detentions after your discipline….” double drat, “….but report to The Dell next Monday evening at half past eight after Prep, without clothes. There you’ll be whipped well….and might even meet my martinet….” oo..er, yes, MA’AM, “….afterwards, I will watch you wank worthlessly....” better yet, “….and we’ll sort out a schedule of evening visits to my study….” amazing, “….kindly keep this all in confidence, since otherwise I’ll be inundated with similar sins from other less-deserving dudes….” not an unreasonable injunction, “….but for now….bend by your beds for your beatings, bad boys. Since you’ve spunked successfully, it will seem to sting MUCH more….” without any sexual imperative to help with the pain, “….but I suppose it was well worth it.” Yes indeed….MA’AM.
“So she swished us all soundly,” he said, “and then cropped our crotches. We duly did the Detentions, and then the following week we were Dell boys. She makes an amazing Miss Whiplash….one of many at the school, it seems. Apparently Big Dick reckons there are several dozen different strict souls who role-play her….” sodding Shagger’s Mentor in the shape of the teacher Richard Merryweather, “….maybe markedly more. Then we were each treated in turn to an overnight tumble….” he paused, “….it worked so well, we tried the same tack again the following month. This time we drew The Dragon Lady, who treated each of us to some of her Particularly Painful Penis Punishment Powder whilst screwing a suitably subbie slut. The time afterwards, we got Gertrude. Alas for our fourth foray it was Silage, who confiscated the periodical. However, he had us report individually to his study of an evening. We were allowed to wank worthlessly with the whacks, whilst he took filthy photos for the Camera Club, so it wasn’t a total disaster. But would you agree in retrospect how ours was a better game-plan than simply sitting seething in dorm?”
Fair comment. “Yes,” he agreed, “since it enabled you to play Poke Her, whilst we simply played poker. But turning towards today, I’ve a question for you all. Since it seems you’ve sessioned with The Dreadful Griffin, what exactly does she do? I’ve heard all sort of rumours over the years, and I’ve a Sunday Special later this morning.” There was a long pause, since it seemed nobody was willing to speak. “On balance it’s best you find out for yourself, Will,” said Aesop Hislop at length, “since it would otherwise spoil the surprise. But we’ll all be interested to hear from you this evening how you got on.” Thanks a bunch.
He glanced across at the wall clock, which read 7.34am. “Tempus Fugit,” he said, “or Time Flies….” but usually only when you’re having fun, his brain automatically added the caveat, “….I suppose we’d best dress, since we wouldn’t want to be later for fagging….” he took a couple of steps to his bedside cabinet, and picked up his pair of pink Knackerpants, “….I reckon this will be one of the few times I wear these, since I’m reporting starkers for my Sunday Specials. From tomorrow, I expect to be doing Detentions every day for the remainder of my rustication. Thus it’ll be Horrible Harry’s so-called Short Shirts….” he smiled, “….which somehow don’t seem so bad, all of a sudden.” There were more sniggers.
“I know what you mean,” said Malcolm Gorst, “since we incorrigible exhibitionists always enjoy celebrating one of Gertrude’s VE Days….” he frowned, “….surely you know what they are?” He shook his head. “No,” he replied, “although I was in her English class for The Boys In Blue. But she’s mentioned them twice, and I’ve no idea what she’s on about.” Hopefully, he’d finally find out? “For Villains Exposure….” Ohh, “….we surreptitiously slide off our shorts….” really? “….then we’re suitably Shopped, often as not by one of The Six Sneaks. They’ll say, ‘Please, Ma’am, this bad boy’s exposed himself.’ Then we’ll be called to the front and told to strip starkers, enabling the public presentation of a pulsing penis. It’s exhibitionism at its worst, and the quid pro quo is some sound swishing….exactly as she enjoys.” So she’d claimed.
“Now I do recall some instances of it,” he said, “however I’d no idea it was all arranged. Alas, I never had any firm friends from dorm 6X.” But better late than never. “I suppose it’s a similar sin to Driving Dubiously Dressed,” said Ed The Ted, “although not necessarily nice on sodding Shagger’s Natty New Seats Of Learning during Detentions. However, the studs from the so-called CP dorms really enjoy them….” dorms 6C and 6Z “….for the six Canees and the six Zebras, it’s the free feel of their flogged fannies on the fine matrix of short semi-sharp steel spikes which is an area of attraction.” Slowly he stepped into them, enjoying an appreciative audience. “Ahhh….” he gasped as their hem abraded his sore seat, “….uhhh,” he added as they interfered with his errant erection. “Surely those Knackerpants seem several sizes too small?” asked Philippe de Gascoigne. “They’re two such, Phil,” he agreed, “and were at Terrence’s insistence. He wanted them to be terrifically taut and tight for my tush and tool….let alone knackerable nuts.”
He watched whilst his dorm mates stood up. “Just one final question, Will?” asked James Nodden, “why do you expect a….well, daily Detention?” He shrugged, as he put on his socks and shoes. “It’s all part of the punishment process,” he replied, “the teachers go out of their way to dish them. I accumulated three on Friday afternoon alone. This means I shall Explain myself to The Interrogator on Wednesday morning. I daresay I’ll be dished more, which may well take me past my restoration. Obviously, I’ll still need to do them….” punishments once awarded couldn’t be rescinded, “….and therefore I shall still be appearing In The Pink again of an evening.”
They all padded away towards the shower room as he continued to get dressed. A couple of minutes later, and he was finished. Another look at the clock confirmed he may as well be on his way. So he stepped straight out of the dorm, and walked towards the Level 6 landing. He was somewhat early, which might mean meeting fewer fags en route. As he’d already found out the hard way the previous morning, it was perfectly possible to be waylaid by his peers-in-the-pink. Then they’d present their Stretch Slave Sheet, and demand their dues….thus creating delay. He started down the empty echoing stone steps, which duly obliged with distant discipline. St Sticks never sleeps….at least in terms of swishing. Most likely, it was some stud’s Sex Thrashing somewhere?
Then he reached the base of the steps, and with it the Dorm wings entrance hall. He passed the Curfew Monitor’s desk, empty at this hour, and continued into the first of the long, dark cold corridors. What wonders would he find this morning when he arrived at his frightful fagmistress’ study? Very possibly, she’d still be bedding a bad boy, enjoying a long lie-in….and doubtless doing a dick? At least he too had a fuckable floozy with which to look forward….even though he still harboured doubts about Gertrude Griffin.
Several minutes later, he reached the Prefects’ Study wing entrance hall, and started the first flight. These stone steps were also empty and echoing, though this time the culprit was most likely to be a fustigated fag. A Flogged one….what was Shagger’s blasted book again? Yes, it was Grahame’s Guide to grandiloquisms….and he’d really have appreciated a copy during his time of tutelage. Teachers often had a tendency to throw such Big Words at you, and then fly into a rage if you failed to understand. If you were really unlucky, they’d dish a Detention. “Huhh….huhh,” he huffed as he rounded the Level 3 landing, thinking maybe Have A Thrash might have a point about prefects being out of condition?
His cross-country run the previous day had been considerably curtailed, by kind connivance of sodding Shagger. Even so, he’d been completely winded within half a mile. Well….it was too late to worry about it now. If he was really bothered, he could always join some sort of exercise club in the University of Kent at Canterbury? This was always assuming he’d passed his A-Levels with sufficiently good grades to take up his place….however one should live in hope? Finally, he reached Level 5, and continued along the gloomy corridor to the first study.
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