Thursday, February 23, 2023

Chapter 239 - part (4) of (4)

 Divorce Day

The Cloisters

verbera experti insuper

“For anyone who’s not a Latin Lass or lad,” he said, “I’m told the logo means Scourging And Moreover.” So much she’d grasped, and no doubt Very Nice likewise. However her hubby had been a Spanish señor, and Shaggette was a German Gretchen. From somewhere inside the habit, he produced a huge cast-iron key. He turned the lock, put it away again, and pulled open the door. Then he waved them through into the cloister, and a series of bulkhead lights automatically illuminated, presumably by motion detectors? “The interesting part’s just here,” he said, going ahead of them, “so kindly accompany me down the stone spiral staircase.”

 

They all followed in single file, whilst another light lit. The setup seemed strangely similar to the sets of secret steps at the back of the locked broom cupboards in the main school buildings. Perhaps the architects had drawn upon this heritage? She wouldn’t say anything, since so far as she knew, hubby was still blissfully ignorance about them. However the lighting must be fairly new, owing to the presence of the proximity detectors. Finally they reached the base, and Lynda Shagton set down the overnight bag. Oops….as more lights lit, since it was quite clearly a dungeon. “There are no locks on the cell doors,” he said, “and Amen Carmen reckons they were once possibly for proper pious purposes. However, she suspects the Mercers must have been into S&M, and it became a bondage basement. As you see, everywhere’s adorned with rather rough and rusty heavy hardware….” she glanced around, and it was certainly so, “….it may be in mediæval style, but apparently none of it’s old enough to be from the original monastery. Anyway, I’ll make a start with my Missus, and Richard can do the others after I’ve left. Lean backwards facing me, my love, placing both legs by the shackles….the ones set eighteen inches from the wall, and arms UP.”

 

She complied immediately. “Ohh….ohh….” she moaned as he shackled her wrists, and ironed her ankles accordingly, presenting her pussy perfectly for punishment….and poking, “….OHH,” she added as he concluded with a cast-iron collar. “You seem to have had plenty of practice positioning pretty prisoners, Shagger,” said her hubby, with renewed ill-humour, “did you put the Parish Priest into predicament bondage?” Dearest Davy nodded. “Yes,” he replied, “although I promise you I didn’t poke her pussy….at least not with my pulsing penis. She stayed semi-celibate, for professional purposes….” he paused, “….you can find out what WAS used presently, and perhaps provide something similar….” oo..er, yes SIR she thought at once, whilst wondering what it was? “….now it’s time for you to have my horrid habit.” Very good, she reflected as he shimmied out from under, and handed it to hubby.

 

OMG….since underneath he’d been adorned in the prison Warder wear. It featured matt black heavy-duty taut trousers with wooden truncheon, with a felt-tip pen plus The Cattle Prod housed in deep pockets There was a white shirt and black tie, matching jacket and flat peaked cap, plus a pair of stout shiny shoes. “My flat peaked cap is still in Sue Sweet’s car,” he remarked, “but you get the general idea of what the Sadistic Screw is all about.” Her hubby put the habit over his head, and smoothed it down. “Why haven’t I one of those outfits, Shagger?” he grumbled. “Possibly because you didn’t ask Sue Sweet last autumn,” he replied, unruffled, “and obviously it’s a little late now. However, there’s still three days of term left, if you’ve set your heart on it….” he was given a glare which would have torched toast at twendy paces, “….there’s just one thing. Hopefully, you’ll finally accept I’m a sixdy-sixdy switch, and not simply a subbie….as you’ve been suggesting for most of my school career at The Styx?”

 

Richard Sharp nodded with obvious reluctance, however the evidence was pretty plain. “Please, Sir,” said Very Nice, spreading her legs, “perhaps you might….well, prod me into position?” It was crystal clear she’d enjoyed it earlier, and he removed The Cattle Prod from his pocket. “It’s set to severe, Richard,” he said, “which should be sufficient.” Then he prodded her pussy….ZZZZZZ “….URGHHH….yes, SIR….uhhh,” she moaned, bending forward in acute agony.

 

She hobbled to the wall next to her, where hubby applied similar shackles with obvious enthusiasm. “Me next, Sir?” said his Sister, hopefully….ZZZZZZ “….URGHHH….thank you SIR….uhhh,” as she too took her place alongside them both, and was likewise ironed….ZZZZZZ “….URGHHH,” she moaned at the terrible tingle in her twat.

 

“Well, there we are, Richard,” he said brightly, “I’ll away. There’s no shortage of scourges….” he pointed towards one wall, which was completely covered with items of coercion and correction, the same as studies, “….and remember, the habit can cover a multitude of sins.” So Amen Carmen had said. “I don’t suppose you’d care to tell me who you’re doing at Stern Hall, Shagger?” he asked, sourly. “Nope,” he replied, “however you’ve plenty of pretty prisoners to interrogate, so I’ll wish you all a very good evening.” He smiled and offered a salute, before retreating from the dungeon. She heard his footsteps up the stone spiral staircase, until finally they faded.

 

Then her hubby strode to the wall, and returned several seconds later. Oo..er, since it was eleven lengths of long leather, and the same style as the one at the Rectory. Hell, this was going to hurt. “I shall be asking Questions,” he growled, “and any unsatisfactory answers means both beautiful boobs will be beaten. So who’s sodding Shagger screwing this evening?” She shook her head….Thwackk “….OWW….” Thwackk “….OWW,” she gasped. “How about you, Very Nice?” he asked, “perhaps you’d care to comment?” She too stayed silent….Thwackk “….OWW….” Thwackk “….OWW,” she gasped. “All right, we’ll try Shaggette. I daresay this is the first time she’s suffered a scourge.”

 

Although it wouldn’t be the last, and sure enough there was no response….Thwackk “….OWW….” Thwackk “….OWW,” she gasped. “It appears we have a challenge,” he said, “remember, this will all hurt you a whole lot more than it hurts me.” Very droll…. Thwackk “….OWW….” Thwackk “….OWW,” she gasped….Thwackk “….OWW….” Thwackk “….OWW,” repeated Verity Gneiss…. Thwackk “….OWW….” Thwackk “….OWW,” Shaggette concluded. “Since we don’t appear to be making much progress,” he said, “we’ll proceed to pussy punishment. Perhaps taps taken to the twat will loosen your tongues.”

 

About time too, said her subbie side, and undoubtedly the others were thinking the same. “Please, Sir,” she said, “don’t bother to beat about the bush.” What wit, “Fair enough,” he replied, “I’ll concentrate on the cunt, and strafe your slits soundly,” Thwapp “….UGHHH,” she moaned with both pain and pleasure….Thwapp “….UGHHH,” moaned Verity Gneiss….Thwapp “….UGHHH,” moaned Lynda Shagton, as all three of them were pussy pain perverts who enjoyed the stinging sensation when their slit was struck smartly.

 

After what seemed forever, her pussy was perspiring profusely from punishment pain. Or to put it another way, her slutty slit was soaked with sweat. There were no clocks to consider, so she’d no immediate idea of the time. “Uhhh….all right, Sir,” she moaned, “one of the fuckable floozies was Euphoria….uhhh….” there was a pointed pause, “….and the other?” he asked, “I’m waiting….and I can continue to do so all night, if necessary.” How many times had she heard those words over the years? “Please, Sir,” said Shaggette, “it was another of your pretty prefect peers, and they were both in The Six Jailbirds last year, but I can’t recall the other name….although I’m sure it was something to do with the weather.” He smiled slightly.

 

“Perhaps Very Nice could kindly confirm a Southerly Gale?” he suggested sourly. “Yes, Sir,” she admitted. “So,” he said, “is it to be a Bi-some threesome?” She shook her head. “No, Sir,” she replied, “it’s an awesome foursome, with Thor Thring also role-playing as the Sadistic Screw. You might have passed his Police car when you were walking towards the main entrance gates.” She could see how hubby harboured even more resentment at these revelations. “Why is it always somehow sodding Shagger?” he asked irritably….an ingrate as always, given how he’d been presented with three pretty prisoners on a plate. “They’re firm friends, Sir,” she said soothingly, “but perhaps Sir might now care to check his horrid habit, to discover what deviant delights are inside?”

 

He rummaged around, and sure enough in what was a wide pocket, he extracted a strap-on made of black rubber. Oops….since it had a slightly spiked punishment penis, just like the Dick Dastardly dildo. “I’m sure you three sinners are serious slit strokers,” he said with an especially evil smile, “so you can confess your crime….” he put it around his pelvis, “….this should put punished pussies properly in their place, and show sluts with sore slits who’s Superior….” very witty….for him, “….I shall fill your flogged fancies with phallus.” Yes SIR, as he stood sternly between her legs. “Guilty as charged, Sir….AGHHH….UGHHH,” she gasped with pure pleasure and pain in equal proportions as she was poked. “AGHHH….UGHHH,” she repeated as he humped her hard. “It’s a little like the Police Siren,” he said sourly, “something which I suffered on occasion during Victim nights in past years. The Six Knackerers were particularly partial to such sordid scheming.”

 

She recalled how he’d never liked having his nuts knackered. Obviously it remained to be seen how this would work in a relationship with Miss Dominetta Gutteridge? “Please, Sir….UGHHH,” she gasped, “I’d like to apologise profusely….AGHHH….for any indignities either I….UGHHH….or my dearest dorm mates….AGHHH….inflicted upon you….” already she could feel herself falling over the edge into orgasm, “….YESS….AGHHH,” she concluded was the phallus was finally withdrawn. “Who’s next for the skylark?” he asked sardonically. “Me please, Sir,” replied Very Nice and Shaggette in unison. “Very well,” he said, “it’ll be in order of seniority, and I’ll spike Shaggette shortly. I’m sure an anticipation of acute agonies will be appreciated.” Very probably, as he stood in front of the second slit. “Stroking is so sinful Sir,” said her girlfriend, “please punish my pussy painfully for its perverted pleasures….UGHHH….AGHHH….” she gasped as it was promptly poked, “….OMG….UGHHH….it’s so GOOD…. AGHHH.” Nasty but nice, as her own fancy had felt.

 

She listened with one ear to the sounds of sin, whilst wondering with worry what else he had planned for her? “UGHHH….AGHHH….UGHHH….AGHHH….UGHHH….AGHHH….I’m cumming….YESS….YESS….YESS….” so success in every packet, “….AGHHH,” she concluded as the punishment penis was pulled out. “Now it’s The Babe In Blue,” he said wolfishly, “albeit presently in the pink.” He WAS on fine form this evening….so maybe Miss Gutteridge HAD been good for him? “Please, Sir,” said Lynda Shagton, “my slit should be similarly spiked. I never thought I was a pussy pain pervert, but now I know it needs it. I especially enjoyed being your junior fag last term, most especially all our out-of-hours sessions, since you’re such a superbly Superior Sir.” Flattery will get you everywhere, she reflected, seeing a wide smile. “It’s good to be wanted,” he agreed amiably, “and it seems sound, screwing sodding Shagger’s sexy Sister.”

 

A compliment of sorts, as he shifted himself into prime poking position. “UGHHH….AGHHH,” she moaned, “damnation….UGHHH….AGHHH….this won’t take very long…. UGHHH….AGHHH….I’ve been on the edge for ages….UGHHH….AGHHH….fuck my fancy Sir….UGHHH….AGHHH….cum me for my cute cunt’s crimes….UGHHH….AGHHH….” she could see she was shivering in severe sexual stress, “….YESS….YESS….AGHHH,” she concluded as once again the phallus was withdrawn. “You can do Dick Dastardly to Domme too, Sir,” she said, “always assuming you haven’t already done so….?” he shook his head, “….it’s a similar style to one of the two dildos owned by my former fagmistress. She used this one on herself when she wanted to assuage feelings of guilt….which was often. She hid it, together with Dildo Dick, in an air vent in her study shower room. But as her senior fag, I was able to find her hidey-hole easily enough.”

 

He nodded. “Thank you, Missus,” he said, “and a clear case of Genuine Jam tomorrow. I honestly wasn’t aware she was such a pussy pain pervert. However now I know, she’ll suffer seriously for such shocking sin. We’ve both worked our ways around to nudging ninedy to thirdy in disciplinary disposition….” nine dozen to three, “….so we’ll each have ample opportunities to indulge our small subbie sides….” good for them, finding an amicable arrangement which worked well, “….how are you two terrors fixed for tomorrow morning….do you have dates? Obviously Missus does, since for a slit of her stature it goes without saying.” Thanks a bunch for the character reference. “I have, Sir….” said Verity Gneiss, “….but I’m all yours, Sir,” said Lynda Shagton, “so long as the water’s warm in the study shower.” QED….again.

 

“So it’s finally fuck time, Missus,” he said, “or I should say Mrs Sharp….for the last time. I’ve honestly enjoyed our Sundays together over the past year….” at least this was something, “….and I’m grateful for your evident understanding about my deepest, darkest and dirtiest desires for my dearest Domme….” Tits Worth would have told him about cunt comparisons, “….with whom I spent several seriously sordid sessions on Saturday. Like us, as a copulating couple, we’re surprisingly compatible in coitus….” excellent “…I even enjoyed taking her testicular torments….” really? “….which WAS a slight shock, as she’d never known him to be a plums pain pervert, “….she scratched my scrotum softly to start, which somehow set me off….” surely this dealt with the difficulty described? “….I also promised to please pussy as a point of principle, the same as I did you. In fact, Domme did suggest you were surprisingly similar in several respects.”

 

As indeed she’d once said, “So what’s stopping you, Sir?” she asked….SLAPP “….Ahhh….” SLAPP “….Ahhh,” she gasped. “Being our Divorce Day,” he said, “and how you’re ready for rape, I shall simply screw you where you stand. We’ll merely make it a memento of my manhood.” He rolled up the habit to his waist, unzipped his trousers, and extracted his sound six inch shaft. “Uhhh....” she moaned as it screwed her sore slit, “….uhhh,” he repeated, “wringing wet….uhhh….but you always did get off with pussy pain….uhhh….I’ll hump you hard….uhhh….rather than worrying myself unduly with Conscious Cunt Contraction Control.” Suit yourself. “UHHH,” he moaned repeatedly, “I’m spurting….yes….YESS.” A couple of cums for her would have been welcome as well, but apparently they weren’t on offer.

 

Slowly, he withdrew his soft shaft. “Thank you for the facility,” he said, as put away his penis and smoothed down the habit. He’d always been a Wham-Bam-Thank-You-Ma’am, without any finesse in fucking. Hopefully however, his dearest Domme would deal with the difficulty? “Ohh….ohh,” she gasped lightly as her shackles and irons were each released. “Kindly accompany me,” he said, “since you can spend a solo session in a cell.” He gestured towards one, and she padded inside. Immediately a proximity detector illuminated a bulkhead light. “Legs apart,” he ordered. “Ohh….ohh,” she repeated as she was shackled and ironed all over again. “I shall leave you here to uncomfortably contemplate your crimes,” he continued, “mired in mental misery, knowing I’m screwing a slut in my study. With a little luck, they’ll also be at each other in the sixdy nine position, when I can watch them at work.”

 

Highly likely….what with Very Nice being a Bi-babe. “But what have I done to deserve it, Sir?” she wailed, plaintively. “It’s payback time,” he replied, “on behalf of all the bad boys who’ve taken part in your Weedings….” Ohh, “….whereby the failures spent the evening chained up in The Gymnasium….” Ohh, “….until you graciously released them….unless you forgot.” She struggled against the shackles. “It only ever happened once, Sir,” she said sulkily. “Yes,” he agreed, “Messy did mention how it was an extremely long night….” Oh, dear, “….so I’ll leave you, having loved you….” abruptly, he kissed her fleetingly, “Mmmm,” she moaned as always, although more out of politeness, “….Mrs Doasyowouldbedoneby would approve.” Then he closed the cell door behind him. As she listened to the sounds of several shackles being opened, she agreed how Charles Kingsley’s story about The Water Babies was quite apt. Then she heard his footsteps across the dungeon, which faded as they all retreated up the spiral staircase, and soon there was silence.

 

What might she do to make herself comfortable? He’d attached her to short chains on shackles at waist height, but the ankle irons were against the wall with very little play. Slowly, she slithered down the stone, which meant her arms were raised high, and her knees were bent double. So the big bastard had put her into perfect predicament bondage. It would become progressively worse over time, no matter what she did. She’d once read an account of a torture cell, which had apparently contained nothing nasty. It had seemed innocuous at first sight, but in fact it was fiendish. It had eight inch coarse concrete ridges at irregular intervals all over the floor, so lying flat was impossible.

 

The victim was free to adopt any position they chose, though they were all equally awful. But the pièce de résistance was a seductively smooth slab on one side of the cell. Alas, this was a torment too, since its top was tilted at an angle. It was set at a sufficient slope to stop sitting without a lot of extra effort, or the seat would simply slide off. She shivered, suddenly having sympathy with their plight. Either she could stand until she tired, or she could sit down in discomfort. Dammit….she couldn’t even stroke her slit, since the chains were set too short. Predicament bondage was obviously nothing new, and had patently been going strong since the reign of Queen Anne.

 

Æons later, she was aching all over….most especially her arms and legs. Tempus Fugit, or Time Flies, but the famous phrase came with the caveat about usually being Only When One Was Having Fun. The cell was in darkness again, but it had illuminated each time she shifted position. Would Richard remember to return….or worse, might she be left locked in? No, since dearest Davy had taken the key, so she should be spared this fate. But perhaps hubby had a point about the Weedings? It was a fact of nature, whereby dicks desperately desired to get the spunk out….or rather, in. So the studs would willingly put themselves through hell in order to achieve their indecent aim. But if they hadn’t liked her rules of engagement, there was plenty of other pokeable pussy. Or they could have perused porn, perhaps as pathetic panty perverts? “Ohh….ohh,” she moaned in misery, as for the umpdeenth time she struggled to her feet, and the lights lit.

 

Where was the cavalry when they were most needed? Suddenly the cell door opened, and her heart fluttered as the Sadistic Screw strutted inside. “Mmmm,” she moaned as he too kissed her, however this time several gross of celestial cymbals sounded. “I’d wondered whether your ex-husband might have left you in the lurch, my dearest,” he said, when they’d separated, “so I thought I’d best check.” Thank goodness. “Ohh….ohh,” she moaned as he released her. “I’m not ungrateful, Davy,” she said, “but should you be doing this? It’s not exactly etiquette to release someone else’s prisoner.” He smiled. “Richard must have moved you here,” he countered, “so technically, HE released you from MY bondage….thus honours are equal.” Fair enough….as she padded unsteadily out of the cell, and he followed her across the dungeon. “Feel free to….well, feel free,” she said as she started up the spiral staircase. “Ohh….ohh….you really rude wretch,” she said as he felt her fanny in familiar fashion. All right, so it was another mixed message, but she was sure he wouldn’t mind.

 

They reached the top, and continued together along The Cloisters. He relocked the heavy timbered door, and placed the huge cast-iron key into a pocket. “How did you get on earlier?” she asked as they continued into the opulence of Stricktlands Hall. “Very well, thanks,” he replied, holding her hiney hard, “the pretty prisoners were treated to intimate interrogations, with times of tens torture on their twats….” Transcutaneous Electrical Nerve Stimulation, “….whilst whipped well, plus perpetual poking by Officer Shagton….” nice work if you can get it, “….with more to follow in the morning from Officer Thring. There were no complaints….at least, not ones which matter. Actually, we added all manner of extras for the shouting and swearing. Afterwards, I was thoroughly thrashed by The Professor. As you know, he always enjoys beating my bottom….” he smiled slightly, “….with some sinful sixdeen strokes.” She pursed her lips. “I suppose it was Six For Sex for each slut,” she mused, “which must mean there was a further floggable felony.” He patted her posterior. “Well sussed,” he agreed, “since I’d driven back to Stern Hall whilst Dubiously dressed….basically being bare below the belt. I confessed the crime, adding my intention to repeat it on the return run, so he said another six should suffice. They were all Sex Thrashing strokes, so I’ve a seriously sore seat.”

     

Several minutes later, they were back into the familiar frugality of the main school buildings, with the first of the long, dark cold corridors. “I assume Richard ravished you?” he asked. “Yes,” she agreed, “and I’VE a seriously sore slit from those sodding spikes. But he didn’t offer me any orgasms when he poked me properly with his penis. Afterwards, he simply slung me into the cell as you saw, before heading back to his study with Very Nice and your sinful Sister. He told me it was payback for leaving all the likely lads in The Gymnasium each week after the Weedings. On reflection, I fear he did have a point….although nobody asked them to volunteer....” he nodded knowingly, “….on another topic, how did you manage with your meal?”

 

He smiled slightly, as they listened to some distant discipline. “It was indeed Very Nice,” he replied wittily, “some scintillating conversation with convivial company….without copulation of her cute cunt. I enjoyed a relaxing dinner, with a nude Waitress....albeit somewhat shoddy service, so there was some sound swishing. Together with your own kind contribution, it amounted to a dozen due. It was especially enjoyable having her in high heels….” so to speak, “….mind you, Mitches had been most miffed. I’d had her help The Pirate make the meals during fagging. So I suggested some sort of dinner date at home during the holidays, with her three favourite friends.”  

 

They reached the Prefects’ Study wing even as Big Ben was striking, and crossed the entrance hall. Heaven, it was only 10pm, since her session in the cell had seemed far longer. “Should I sling you over my shoulder….Smith?” he suggested. “The same as several other sinful sluts, I suppose….Shagton?” she countered with another question. “Ohh….ohh,” she moaned as she was suddenly inverted. “Yes….” he agreed, as they started up the empty stone steps, “….and spoken in a sort of subderisorious sense,” What was the gratuitous grandiloquism again? Yes…. mildly mocking, but between friends. “Ooh….SIR,” she squealed as they rounded the Level 1 landing, “you’re so Masterful, Sir….” SMACKK “….Oww….” SMACKK “….Oww,” she gasped, as the sounds echoed up and down. OMG….this was all making her so wet. It was such a shame he’d be….well, Shaggered out, as the saying went.

 

“Could I suggest a soothing shower for us both?” she asked, as they rounded Level 2, “in my study, since it’s closest. I’m still stiff, although after tackling two twats, I doubt you are….” very witty, she hoped, “….but perhaps you might offer oral?” He sniggered softly. “It would be my pleasure,” he replied, “in addition to yours….” fair comment, “….then maybe we might sleep together until changeover time….” an excellent idea, “….I don’t have to return to my study, since I’m playing away tomorrow morning. It’s some more subbie sluts, so I’ll stay as the Sadistic Screw….” which were, as they reached the Level 3 landing, and started along the gloomy corridor? “….it’s favourite friends Thrash Me and Owe Me….” Meela Thresher and Mia Farrow, “….as another Bi-some threesome.” Uh..huh….each émigrée from dorm 6P. The six punishees was another of the so-called CP dorms, whose members craved caning at all costs. “What have you in store?” he asked as they reached the open door of study 17. They stepped inside, and she switched on the main light.

 

Then they continued into the shower room, and dearest Davy started to shed his clothes, folding them all neatly to the floor. “I’ve a threesome too,” she said, turning on the tap to sort out the temperature, “….albeit of the conventional kind….” with both bad boys bonking the beautiful Bird in bed, “….they’re similarly subbies. It’s Ricochet and Rickshaw….hailing from the six zebras last year.” He nodded, as he followed her inside the cubicle. “The Richards O’Shea, and Shaw, once of dorm 6Z….” he confirmed, as they started to lather each other, paying special attention to their naughty parts, “….I hope you’ll hit their hineys hard, since they DO like showing off their stripes.” She nodded. “They’ll each enjoy my special subbie tariff,” she agreed amiably, as they hugged each other underneath the welcome warm water. “Let me take tongue to tender twat,” he said, dropping down to his knees, “dear me, your ex wasn’t….well, exactly holding back when beating your boobs and best bits. Maybe you might manage to massage your mammaries with all this maceration?” Very witty, and another good grandiloquism.

 

“It’s certainly some softening by soaking,” she agreed, “except for the naughty nipples, which are already hard….uhhh….uhhh….uhhh.” He was GOOD, she agreed, already halfway towards Planet Pleasure….and his tonguing technique too was so similar to Georgie Boy’s. Still, she wouldn’t say anything in view of his earlier comments about comparisons. “Uhhh….uhhh….” she moaned as she tweaked her tits, “….uhhh….bite me, bad boy….uhhh….you know I need it.” Another few seconds and she’d be a gone girl anyway….AYEEEEE….” SLAPP “….AHHH….” SLAPP “….AHHH,” he gasped, “….UHHH….YESS….UHHH….YESS….YESS….YESS….uhhh,” she added, although as a slap slut she knew he’d enjoy it. Then he soaped her slit a second time, and rinsed clean the copious quantities of cunt cream. “You’ve always been my favourite floozy,” he assured her as they stepped out slowly, “especially after allowing me to attack a flogged fancy….something with which the Sadistic Screw will assist another time.” She handed him a towel, and they dried themselves down.

 

“Promises….” she said when they’d finished, as she switched on the hair dryer, “….disappear, Davy….unless you were wanting to wank worthlessly whilst I watch?” He smiled slightly as he knelt again, taking himself in hand. “Uhhh….uhhh,” he moaned, “give me some scornful stares….uhhh….” she obliged, and pouted provocatively, “….thank you….uhhh….so squirmingly and sordidly scrumptious….uhhh….such disdain and disgust for dicks….uhhh….it’s why I enjoy WANKER!....uhhh….so much….uhhh….since somehow rejection works wonders with willy….” he let himself loose, and adopted the Position For Penance with his legs wide apart, “….I don’t believe I’ve asked this properly, but will you wed me….might we marry, Ma’am?” Her heart thumped, as she switched off the dryer and padded around him….WHUMPP “….URGHHH,” he moaned as she too kicked his crotch. “Here’s me, hardly out of the divorce court,” she said sternly, “but I’ll most certainly do so….” she giggled as slowly he stopped whooping, and struggled upright with a face of pain, “….and already I’m getting hitched again. So my slit’s sold to the stud with seven inches of circumcised sin. Arise, Sir David.”

 

He did so, and his penis promptly pulsed. “Mmmm,” she moaned as he kissed her hard, and suddenly the celestial symbols were back in business. “Uhhh,” he moaned, “your confounded kisses always come with a kick….uhhh….and I don’t necessarily mean being bashed on the bare bollocks….uhhh….but it’s better with a boot….uhhh….especially when coupled with a cunt….” she was well aware of the fellas’ filthy fetish for both items together, “….at least I know what I’m letting myself in for….uhhh….with a nubile nymph from the six Knackerers which knows all about nuts.” He picked up his pile of clothes, and together they padded back into the main study. “It’s bedtime, bad boy,” she said as he set them down by the door, and switched off the light.

 

She shifted the sheets, as he padded back to the bed in the sudden darkness. “Ohhh….” he moaned as he lay down, and was reminded of his raw rear, and recent rattan. Accordingly, he shifted on to his side, and so did she. “I’m afraid you can’t hold me too hard, Davy,” she said, “since I’m still somewhat sore and sensitive. However you can kiss me to sleep….Mmmm,” she moaned all over again as he readily obliged. In a few hours’ time, they’d both be screwing elsewhere, but this was the beauty of an open-marriage. There was never any cheating, and everything was above board. Slowly, she slipped towards sleep.

To be continued……


shivering spurting suffering

Friday, February 10, 2023

Chapter 239 - Part (2) of (4)

 Divorce Day

 

Several minutes later, they reached their destination. “Ohh….ohh,” he moaned as she arose, and let him loose. “Hup..two….and arms DOWN,” she ordered, and he lay on the long black upholstered bench, indented in the centre. It came complete with a padded headrest, various shackles appended along its length, and together with a pair of side stirrups. As she shackled his wrists and ironed his ankles again, she mused how George Shagton had known exactly how it all worked….but then he’d had plenty of previous practice with Oh Hell. His son too had poked Pretty Patty in this self-same study, for his very first fuck. Both The Terror Twins were also at the University of Lancashire, in yet another ménage….this time with Relay.

 

He was the self-professed Purveyor Of Penis, and possibly foremost Cunt Casanova for the Year LXXXVIII. She was looking forward to future fucks from him, as doubtless dearest Davy was doing for Samantha and Patricia Terrier. With a slight smile, she raised the head of the bench slightly. “This means you should be able to watch what’s happening more easily….” she said slyly. It was in the best tradition of all torturers, so suspects could see their source of suffering, “….now it begins to get more interesting.” His tool twitched as she took his testicles in her right hand. “Uhhh,” he moaned, as she stroked the sensitive centre spot encouraging the scrotum to separate. “Ohhh,” he added as she stretched it sideways. Then a coiled cord was pulled parallel inside the left leg, and tied tightly to a testicle. It was repeated with the right.

 

“As you can see, Messy,” she intoned, “your ankles are ironed up against two corner ratchets. Each is attached to your best bits. By applying exactly the right amount of tension, I’m able to ensure your fun phallus is perfectly positioned for poking purposes,” CLICKK CLICKK CLICKK “….AHHH….AHHH….MA’AM,” he moaned, as she turned one ratchet, and his left testicle was slowly stretched….CLICKK CLICKK CLICKK CLICKK “….AHHH….AHHH….MA’AM,” he gasped again, as its twin was similarly treated, and his twitching tool was tugged upwards. Now she could see he was veering towards the right….CLICKK CLICKK “….AYEEEEE….me balls, MA’AM,” he gasped, as the tension in his left testicle was increased, so his straining shaft was shifted square. Already, his eyes were watering from the testicular torment.

 

Last of all, she locked the hinged riding rail in place for her halfway handhold. “We’re ready to roll,” she said as she ascended the Bench. Then she stood in the stirrups, with her slit slightly separated from his straining shaft. “Finally,” she said, “your five inch phallus does the despicable deed, although it’s only a pathetic plaything for my pussy’s pleasure.” For so many centuries, the lovely Ladies had continually complained about mere males only wanting them for their cute cunts. Screwing in the Superior style sought some semblance of restitution and revenge….THWACKK “….AHHH….UHHH,” he moaned she struck his sternum, even as she slowly slithered down his straining shaft.

 

“Wasn’t I worth waiting for?” she asked, teasingly. “Yes, Ma’am,” he muttered….THWACKK “….AHHH….UHHH,” he moaned as she flexed her pelvic muscles. “I don’t have to hump you,” she said softly, “since as you’ve apparently said to all and sundry, I have Conscious Cunt Contraction Control. As a result, I can play your penis, and edge you endlessly without orgasm.” He had the look of someone in hell, which wasn’t far off the truth….THWACKK “….AHHH….UHHH….” THWACKK “….AHHH….UHHH,” he moaned again and again.

 

Then the door opened, and Lynda Shagton entered the study. She glanced up at the wall clock, and saw it was indeed 7.59am. “Good morning….Ma’am,” she said, noting her black boots. These were sufficient to maintain her prefect’s privileges. “You may begin breakfast,” she said, “which will be for one….” the implication was quite clear….or so she hoped, “….this is all your fault, Messy….” even though it wasn’t, “….Dirty will doubtless be here shortly, and I’ll be wanting him to make my bed, and thoroughly clean the Bench and Bottoms-Up Bar.” Brian Macey gave a grin of guilt, very much akin to the so-called swishees’ smirk. It was often offered by culpable canees in class as a prelude to public punishment. “Err….no, he won’t, Ma’am,” he muttered. “What gives, Messy?” she demanded, “we agreed a Senior Swap for this morning. Has he taken Umbrage?”

 

Once again, it was with the usual euphemism. “Please, Ma’am,” he said, “I took his pink bowtie….and his place….” his voice trailed off. “It’s down by the door, Ma’am,” Shaggette confirmed from the kitchenette, “I had wondered why.” She stared at him sternly. “Confess your crimes,” she said irritably. “P..Please, Ma’am,” he stammered, “it’s because I desperately desired a Missus’ Mange, serving you with the Naked Waiter wear….” really? “….and it was extremely unlikely I’d be invited….” too true, since they were romantic dinners with convivial company….not complete cretins. They were principally for her preferred prefect peers, and pupils-with-penis In The Pink, but also The Boys In Blue “….UHHH….UHHH….” he moaned as she raised herself on the riding rail. Then she stood in the stirrups, and his straining shaft started to spurt, “….NO….NO….” his penis promptly pumped in ruined orgasm, “….fuck….fuck….fuck,” he moaned in fearful frustration as some semen was shed on his stomach.

 

She shimmied off the Bench, and withdrew to the wardrobe. There, she replaced her riding boots, and put on her black shower robe again. “All right, Messy,” she said as she approached him again, “I’ll agree to your impertinent request, although you’ll certainly suffer for such shocking subterfuge….” she pursed her lips, “….with a Start-As-You-Mean-To-Go-On beating and Farewell Foursome, also further flogging to follow for all unsatisfactory service. I hope you asked your own junior fag to prepare your breakfast, since you’ll just have to eat late when you return to your study at nine o’clock.” He looked up at her in evident anguish.

 

“Please, Ma’am,” he said, “I’ve already had a terribly tenderized tush, plus a thorough thirdeen, so perhaps my punishments might be postponed?” It would be one more whack for a caneable Question. “Did you ever win any Caning Contests in The Canteen?” she asked in return, however he shook his head. “No, Ma’am,” he admitted, “I didn’t….although I did try several times. I always ended up crying before the other competitors.” She shook her head. “I’m afraid you’re one of life’s losers, Messy,” she said, pityingly, “however I’ve a solution. Simply tell Davy you’ve graciously decided to let him off his last Private Study Penance….” he stared at her in obvious annoyance, “….and report to me instead. I’ll clear your beat sheet with everything accrued this morning….” she shrugged, “….or you can have all the hits with a horrendously hurting hiney….” she gave him an evil grin, “….or if you prefer, you can get out of here for good. The choice is entirely yours.”

 

She folded her arms, a gesture of negation. “All right….Ma’am,” he said sadly, “I undertook earlier not to add anything extra to sodding Shagger’s swishing, but it would still have been a fitting flogging finale. For the past year, I’ve regarded his rear as a whipping boy for my failures to fuck your fancy.” So she’d been correct with her earlier assertion. “I’ll let you loose….” she said, “Ohh….ohh,” he moaned as his shackles were released, “….wear your bowtie….” she pursed her lips, thinking about Davy’s Deposition, “….which you will leave with me afterwards. Shaggette will source you some suitable high heels. You didn’t do so at the Summer Balls, so this will be good practice….” he offered a wintry smile, “….you can do Dirty’s duties….” what wit, “….starting with laying the table. Meantime, I shall have a short shower.”

 

She padded away into the shower room, shed her robe, and soaped herself all over. Then she turned on the tap….bliss, as the wonderfully warm water cascaded down. Should she engage with Wasting Water? Why not….especially as she’d left the door wide open, and her moaning might annoy Messy. She removed the ribbed hosepipe from its hook, and stepped across it. “Ohhh…” she moaned as it scraped between both buttocks, “….UHHH….” she added, pulling harder and separating slit. She’d always really rather relished rope, and this fed her filthy fetish, “….AHHH….AHHH,” she moaned as she increased the temperature to torment her tits.

 

Wryly, she recalled how Grizzle Guts used to do these things regularly, and been duly disgusted. They were so similar in several respects, as indeed Domme had mentioned after her Mental Makeover. Then she shifted off the hosepipe, and turned the shower setting to the strongest jet. “UHHH….UHHH….UHHH….UHHH,” she moaned, plying her pussy, “….UHHH….yes….YESS….YESS,” she moaned, holding onto one wall since the cubicle was revolving so much.

 

A dozen cums later, she reckoned it was time for food. She hung up the hosepipe and turned off the tap. Then she stepped out of the shower, and dried herself down. Her hair she could set at some stage, but not now. She replaced her shower robe, and padded out into the main study. Interesting, since she could see both fags engaged in a passionate kiss….SMACKK “….Oww….” he gasped as she smacked his sore seat sharply, and they separated. “I suppose you’ve signed up for sort of sordid sex session, Shaggette?” she asked sourly. “Yes, Ma’am,” she confirmed, “but you know me, and how I’m happy to sell my soul....” or rather slit, “….as quid pro quo….” a Reciprocal Exchange, “….for a hot shower in some stud’s….err….study.”

 

Neatly put. “It appears you’ve a cheap date, Messy,” she said, “so I suggest you don’t mess it up by making inappropriate comments about The Babes In Blue. I heard it on The Bush Telegraph….” the girls’ grapevine, with a speed of dissemination several times that of light, “….how according to one Brian Macey, for lesser mortals like him it’s called cradle-snatching….” she saw her junior fag smiling, so presumably she’d also heard this villain’s viewpoint independently? “….only one step up from wanking worthlessly….?” he blushed, and stared at the floor, “….how all he cared about was a Quickie Fuckie to shift some semen? Does this square with your sources, Shaggette?”

 

There was a neat nod. “Yes, Ma’am,” she replied, “since I’ve several firm friends in The Vamps….” dorm 5V, “….apparently he also spent some time going on about how it might not matter to a Cunt Casanova whether or not they got the goods, since there was always plenty more pussy where it….well, came from. But it doesn’t matter to me, since it’s simply some shafting for a shower.” Possibly she’d be a candidate for the Year XCI Sex Slut of St Stricktlands School? However, it would be for her unworthy successor to decide.

 

“Enjoy,” she said, “however it’ll still be another two on both your beat sheets. It’s one for Dereliction of domestic duties, since you should have been working hard. Secondly, there’s one for Conduct Unbecoming….” the kissing and cuddling, “….which you know is prohibited….” why she bothered beating her bottom was another matter, since she enjoyed it so much. But it was still fun flogging floozies’ fannies. Dearest Davy had always assured her how she leaned ’levedy ’leven, the same as Georgie Boy. Had she really wanted to punish her, it would have been with an icy shower for a quarter of an hour.

 

 

She suffered from a form of frigophobia, which was a fear of cold things….especially water, “….as for Messy, there’s also a caneable Question, various Vulgarities and a Disrespectful Reference to a prefect. Meantime, I want my breakfast….SNAPP “….jump to it.” They both scurried away, and she padded to her study table. As she sat down, she reflected at least it had been laid properly. Then she picked up her clip board, and made a new sheet for Messy.

 

St Stricktlands School – Fagging Beat Sheet for:-  Brenda Smith

Senior/Junior fag (delete as applicable):-  Brian Macey   Sheet no:-  1

Dorm:- 6W  School Term and Year:-  Summer, LXXXIX

For the use of Prefects only. When all whacks on this sheet have been taken, it should be delivered to the School Secretary. This enables the punishments detailed thereon to be transcribed onto the scholar’s Discipline Report. Please write neatly and legibly, otherwise penalties may be applied.

 

She was well aware of those, having found them out the hard way by kind courtesy of Air Gun and Bête Noir. Her utterly unexpected dozen due had stung all evening….made much worse, since she’d subsequently been subbie whilst playing In The Pink. She’d taken a trip to dorm 6R, and The Six Rgues. They’d spanked and slippered her soundly at her suggestion. Afterwards, it had been a very satisfactory screwing session in her study with Wicked. He was a sixdy-sixdy switch, and now a Confirmed Cunt Casanova. But they’d both been beaten first by Marcus Tennant. Edward Wick had received six strokes….three for being Out Of Dorm after curfew, and the same again for failing an erection inspection.

 

 

She’d taken a total of ten, since she’d also been Undressed, the caneable crime for collecting her defenestrated clothes from the quadrangle courtyard. This would normally have made a nasty nine, but he’d added another for wiggling her waist….Incitement. This therefore tidily made it ten marks from Mark X. Even so, she strongly suspected he’d preferred punishing Wicked’s pert posterior. Her prefect peer was a gay guy, having hailed from dorm 6G and The Six Gays in Year LXXXVIII. Now she recorded Messy’s culpable crimes….taking great care to write neatly.

1. +++ Last Sunday of term, Senior Swap +++

2. Sex Thrashing, thorough thirdeen - Taken

3. SAYM T’GO: 4 - Farewell Foursome: 4

4. Contact unbecoming (with junior fag): 1 – Dereliction of Domestic Duties: 1

5. Various Vulgarities: 4- Disrespectful Reference to prefect: 1 - Question: 1

 

All his accumulated AHH with The Big Weal couldn’t count, since it wasn’t caning. Most likely the last three items would be increased before they were through? She set down her clipboard where she could easily reach it, whilst looking forward to the Naked Waiter wear. Given the bowtie and high heels it was always a slight misnomer, but not enough to make much difference. Obviously if his standard were unsatisfactory, it would mean more whacks.

* * * *

Big Ben was striking for 2.15pm in the middle distance as she hurried towards The Rectory. Hardly punctual….but Brides-to-be were allowed to be late. When making the meeting with the Reverend Carmen Jones, she’d completely forgotten about being Refectory Monitor….almost certainly for the final time. She’d enjoyed administering a Last Out caning to one of The Yellow Perils….who was it? Yes….one Andover First, of dorm 2D. He was doubtless destined to become a Dominant dolt in the D series, and she’d enjoyed taking him down with proper Put-You-In-Your-Place punishment. He’d seethed so satisfactorily, when swished soundly.

 

She’d added another couple of cuts for being a Cocky Little Blighter, so Hand Over Fist of The Demns had ended up with a nasty nine. Still, it was a Sunday, so it wasn’t as if he’d any afternoon school with which to accumulate more agonies onto an aching arse. There was no sign of dearest Davy, so either he’d already gone inside….or was in dorm U? Cautiously, she knocked on the door. “Entarrrr,” called out an ecclesiastical voice, so she opened it. She stepped inside to see Davy’s shoes by the door, so he HAD survived his ordeal. They were both seated on a settee….possibly rather closer than she’d have expected from a Lady of the cloth? She wasn’t at all bad looking, and dearest Davy had said she’d designs on his delectable derrière.

 

“I’m so sorry to be a little late, Carmen,” she said politely, “but the Refectory doesn’t close until two o’clock, and I was on lunch duty.” The Parish Priest waved away her objection. “Shagger explained,” she said, “do take a seat. Anyway, it’s allowed me some discussion with your belovéd….” she selected an easy chair opposite them, “….one possible problem is the congregation, since there’s only so much pew capacity in St Eſſtrickts….” always spelled with the old-fashioned long S, “….so I’m suggesting we set our service outdoors, at three o’clock. If it’s raining….well, the Wet Look is always a further form of fetish.” She nodded. “Which seems sound,” she agreed, “we’ve already agreed dress codes, since it’ll definitely be a Dominatrix do. All mere males will have the Naked Waiter wear with Naccatape, whereas I shall be Miss Whiplash in white….” his penis promptly pulsed, so she was onto a winner, “….but the three Bridesmaids will be Burdizzo Babes.”

 

Amen Carmen’s mouth curled. “I saw them at the Summer Balls,” she said, “with you included. Presumably they’ll be Shirley Greene, plus Myfanwy and Ursula Smith….making your ménage-à-cinq?” She patted his penis, perhaps not entirely professionally. “Yes,” he agreed, “The Green Goddess, Miffy Smiffy and Uncle Sam….which does bring up the little matter in the marriage service about forsaking?” A good point. “It’ll be amended to read, ‘and forsaking no others,’ to avoid the problem,” she said, “and at the appropriate point, I’ll make you Open-Wife and open-husband….” she shrugged, “….I’ve explained I can’t marry him to Miffy in the future, so she’ll have to settle for some sort of civil service. However you can still hold it here, since we’ve two rampant rampallion Registrars on the Staff.” She had a sudden suspicion? “Maybe Air Gun and Bête Noir?” she suggested sourly. “Yes,” the Parish Priest confirmed, “now….will you be given away by your stepfather….?” she shook her head, “….Davy’s Mum will give HIM away,” she said, “which is far more fitting. He should be the chattel, not me.”

 

She watched whilst Amen Carmen made notes. “Who’ll be second-best man?” she asked. “Raymond Lee,” he replied, “since we’re firm friends, and he offered last year.” During their time together at the Pennance Reformatory….although he ought to check Relay was still happy to help? But it would probably be fine. “What about rings?” she asked. “I’ll have a traditional one,” she replied, “whereas Davy will wear a Wedlock on his willy. It should be the same for all the other married men, and the single studs will be….well, shafted with Kali’s Teeth Bracelets….” what wonderful wit, since they were a cylindrical set of sharp spikes, “….which should stop them hitting on the Bridesmaids….or anyone else. I’ll also add a conventional collar and leash, so he can crawl along the aisle afterwards….” she paused, “….he’ll have had to, ‘love honour and obey,’ whereas for me it’ll only be the first two.” Which probably covered most matters….for the moment.

 

“Stand up, Shagger,” she ordered, “preferably in the Position For Pain.” He duly did so, spreading his legs, bending both knees, and leaning backwards slightly. Then she watched whilst Amen Carmen slowly removed her dog collar. “Ohh,” he moaned as she threw it over his pulsing penis. “It’s sort of like hoop-la at the fairground….” she said wryly, as she stood similarly and slipped off her robes, “….except it’s easy, only a few feet from the phallus.” Oops….since underneath she was a Reformatory Guard. The regalia was a seriously strict Mistress suit which featured a tight white militaristic top with shoulder flashes to signify authority, some seamed stockings, black boots and matching miniskirt. Oo..er, since she could see some sort of scourge.

 

“We’ve dealt with the professional parts,” she continued, “so now it’s time for some personal pleasures….if you’ve no objections, Missus? This may be my last opportunity for quite a while to beat his neat little bottom, since it’s simply Asking for the cane.” So another two dollars for Davy’s mythical collection, of when it was complimented. “So long as I get to see the Gonads Guillotine in action,” she replied. Oops….since she’d seen what dearest Davy called her № 2 Look. It was when the Parish Priest bared her teeth, whilst her eyes flashed fire. ‘I’m going to castrate you,’ was clearly the reply. “Can you say why I shouldn’t swish you soundly, Shagger?” she asked. “No, Ma’am,” he muttered, “but I CAN say why you should….starting with my lamentable Lateness….” as indeed Relay had taught him last year, Always be some six minutes late for a disciplinary Domme, as it enabled an entrée into Put-You-In-Your-Place punishment, “….next, it’s Staring At Skirts and Leching Longingly Like A Loser. Then it’s another three for the Thrill Of A Thrashing.”

 

Amen Carmen stared into his eyes, and held his neck with one hand….WHUMPH “….UGHHH,” he moaned as he fell forward following a knee in the nuts….WHUMPP “….URGHHH,” he added at a boot in the balls. As he lay whooping on the floor, she saw the № 1 as she pouted her lovely lips and stood across his body, ‘It was only a little kick in the crotch,’ it seemed to suggest. “Another three for Spying Up Skirts, Shagger?” she asked. “Uhhh….yes, MA’AM,” he moaned. “Assume the Position For Punishment,” she ordered, “and we’ll say staccato style in threes.” Somewhat shakily, he arose and bent down for a beating.

 

SWISHHHTHWACKKKK    SWISHHHTHWACKKKK    SWISHHHTHWACKKKK

“Yeee..HEEE..EEEE….THREE, thank you MA’AM,” he yelped, “I’m so sorry for Staring, Leching and Lateness, Ma’am.” Cheap at the price, since she could have made it more.

 

SWISHHHTHWACKKKK    SWISHHHTHWACKKKK    SWISHHHTHWACKKKK

“Yikes..YIKES..YIKES….SIX, thank you, MA’AM,” he gasped, “I’m sorry for Spying, Ma’am.”    

 

SWISHHHTHWACKKKK    SWISHHHTHWACKKKK    SWISHHHTHWACKKKK

“YEOWWW..OWWW..WOWW….NINE,” he gasped, “a nasty nine, thank you, MA’AM. I’m sorry for my shaft’s sins. Thank you for a thoroughly therapeutic thrashing, Ma’am. I know I needed it….” suddenly she spotted her № 3 Look. It was the sly sideways smile, which was surely, ‘how about pleasing pussy?’ Had he seen it too? “….I’m happy to offer oral appreciation if you wish….” SLAPP “….Ahhh….” SLAPP “….Ahhh,” he gasped. “SUCH a shocking suggestion, Shagger,” she said, rolling up her miniskirt in the manner of the Tart’s Trademark, “but I thought you’d never ask….” idly, she considered the two completely conflicting statements.

 

Surely it was little wonder when mere males moaned about mixed messages? “….so get into the Position For Pleasuring. Don’t worry about Humping Harlots with head or hair, I want some Tickling Tarts with tongue, since I’m totally turned on….” he knelt naked whilst she spread her legs, “….needless to say, there’ll be some simultaneous strafing of shoulders and seat for such sin….” it might also be scrotum, which as a plums pain pervert he’d rather relish? “….Uhhh….uhhh,” she moaned as he tackled her twat. “I shall scourge you soundly, Shagger….uhhh….you’ll pay for my pleasure….uhhh….with plenty of pain.” Dearest Davy had told her about his sample scourging session. As it was extracted from the boot, she saw eleven lengths of long leather, each knotted nastily at irregular intervals.

 

She’d said it was very vapulational….were it a word, and also extremely erotic….Thwackk “….AHHH,” Thwackk “….AHHH,” Thwackk “….AHHH,” Thwackk “….AHHH,” he gasped at each stroke. Surely scourging was some sort of subliminal stimulation, and a straight substitute for sex? She shivered slightly, as her own subbie side suddenly sought the same. “UHHH….UHHH,” she moaned, “Stop It I like It….” Quod Erat Demonstrandum, or Thus It Has Been Proved….Thwackk “….AHHH,” Thwackk “….AHHH,” Thwackk “….AHHH,” Thwackk “….AHHH,” he gasped, “Bite it, bastard boy….” definitely another pussy pain pervert, “….UHHH….UHHH….YESS….YESS….get those legs apart,” Thwapp “….UGHHH,” Thwackk “….UGHHH….YESS….YESS….YESS,” he moaned in ruined orgasm….so QED again. Her chest heaved, and clearly she was on cloud nine….Thackkk “….who said anything about stopping, Shagger,” she muttered, giving him another № 3 Look.

 

According to the wall clock, it was a further fifteen minutes later, coupled with countless cums, before she was sinfully satisfied. “Thank you, Shagger….uhhh,” she said, “I appreciate all your efforts….” she smiled suddenly, “….well up to Georgie Boy’s standard yesterday….” so Davy’s philandering father had taken a trip to the Rectory, in addition to all his other amorous assignations, “….after he and Helen had talked through some more of the wedding arrangements….from the groom’s parents’ perspective….” she turned towards her, “….I subsequently spoke to YOUR Mother and stepfather as well, Missus….” but had Uncle Jack had engaged in any naughtiness? “….no….” she replied, her apparent mind reading abilities working well, “….since I’m sorry to say he seemed a Dominant dolt, without any interest in cunnilingus or suitable scourging.” All of which was fair comment. “You might have better luck with my real father, William Henry Smith,” she said, “since his Mistress of the moment is a disciplinary Domme. I don’t know her name, although I might when we meet on the big day.”

 

He stood slowly, even as the Reverend Carmen Jones returned her skirt to its proper position. “It’s time,” she said, “to discover whether he’s absolutely an orchid….” what? “….a gratuitous grandiloquism, with the word Anorchid meaning lacking in testicles….” Ohh, “….let me uncover the Gonads Guillotine….” they moved across the room, and she shifted a large sheet. It revealed a five foot tall, six inch wide black metal frame, bearing several shackles. However the principal point of interest was the gleaming diagonal blade, “….Shagger’s sampled it once before, and his scrotum still survived. I gave him chapter and verse, so I’ll ask him to provide a potted history. It’ll be interesting to see how much he’s remembered….possibly rather more than the material in my RE classes.”

 

He nodded wryly, not choosing to dispute the allegation. “It was a General Studies project,” he recited, “by one Cathryn….spelled with a K….” fine, “….Castalian who made it. She was known as Castration Kate, one of Ma’am’s pretty prefect peers in Year LXII. Despite its popularity, Thrasher Thring was worried about litigation. Although the likelihood of an accident was low, the risk was absolute, so he impounded it….” certainly parents might be more than mildly miffed if their son was suddenly sans scrotum….or indeed a dick, “….some years later, when Ma’am had been appointed Parish Priest, she approached The Professor. She signed a disclaimer, and it was released it into her charge.”

 

Amen Carmen licked her lips. “Very good, Shagger,” she said, “such a shame you couldn’t recall all the Beatitudes last week. Would you care to continue, and expound upon its modus operandi using your distended dick as demonstration, since it’s such a subject dear to you?” She could see a straining shaft, so his psyche was clearly captivated. “I just push my penis through the aptly-named Hole Of Hell,” he said, gesturing towards it, “and from my perspective, the important part is two stout metal brackets which slide into place when it’s operated in safe mode. They stop the blade an inch before anything unfortunate can happen….although it’s probably the longest second I’ve ever experienced this side of eternity. However, there was always the outside possibility the operator would forget….” Ouch, “….which was why Wodin wasn’t taking chances with a possible penectomy. I’d be permanently pleasing, rather than poking pussy....” he stepped onto the metal base, and presented his penis. Then he shivered slightly, and gratefully withdrew it again, “….perhaps a dummy demonstration in strike mode?”

 

She nodded, and positioned a plastic phallus. Amen Carmen wound up the blade, whilst she looked on in sick fascination….WHEEEE….CLUNKK “….Ohhh,” he gasped, even though it hadn’t been his fancy in the firing line. She stared stupidly as both halves of the severed shaft fell onto the floor, and his own strained even more from the suggestion of separation. The Parish Priest moved forward, and adjusted the safety brackets. “This time we go for the gonads, Shagger,” she said, “although we won’t worry with the clockwork timer release today.” She ironed his ankles. “Ohh,” he moaned as he pushed his balls through the Hole Of Hell. Then he held his arms high, and she shackled his wrists. “I assume it’s set in safe mode, Ma’am?” he asked anxiously. “Yes,” she confirmed, “at least I think so.” Obviously he had a castration complex, but then so did many millions of mere males. “NO,” he gasped, even as she saw her № 2 Look all over again. “I told you last time how I really do like Naccatape, Shagger,” she said sweetly, “as it gets the gonads gathered for grief. Would you offer your services for stress relief?”

 

He nodded. “Yes, Ma’am,” he muttered, “I’ll be a balls bulb boy for you….” she took hold of his trapped testicles, in the same style as an old-fashioned motorcar horn from yesteryear, “….UGHHH….UGHHH….” he moaned, adding the sickly smile required of him, “….BEEP BEEP.” His body was quite clearly visible on either side of the guillotine….including his face of fear. “I’ll just wind it up again, Shagger,” she said, wryly, “or maybe I might mean winding YOU up….?” both, she suspected, as she watched the blade slowly rising, “….you know you have to trust me….” she mouthed him a kiss, “….is it actually IN safe mode….?” clearly she was tool teasing, “….might I have accidentally left it in strike mode….or perhaps on purpose?” He struggled uselessly against the shackles. “NO….mercy, Ma’am,” he moaned. “No mercy indeed, Shagger….” the same sentiments as applied to Messy earlier, “….so should I sanction the severance of your scrotum....?” he shivered, “….are you ready for the Off….?” ha bloody ha, “….gird your loins….although obviously you can’t.” He gritted his teeth….WHEEEE….CLUNKK “….AYEEEEE,” he shrieked in sheer terror. Then it stopped an inch off the action.

 

“Shall we do it again, Missus?” she asked, politely. “No thanks,” she replied, “one dice with Davy’s doom will do. She set about releasing his shackles, and he withdrew his wherewithal, “I hope you don’t get about ideas about Burdizzo Babes with my balls, Bren,” he muttered. Those black-booted brunette beauties, who took off testicles as trophies and put them in pickling pots. But it had clearly been spoken with some subaudition, itself a good grandiloquism, where one needed to read between the lines. Obviously he was hoping she DID have ideas, since they each enjoyed castration play. “Dear me, Davy,” she said, “you seem to have shed some semen.” He nodded. “Apparently it happens often,” he replied, “as the bad boys are always afraid it’s a case of amen….Carmen.” What wit.

 

“Thanks, Carmen,” she said, “there’s just one other thing, since my subbie side’s seeking some similar scourging.” The Parish Priest smiled. “I’ve Sunday Special shortly,” she replied, “however, I’m sure Shagger should suffice. I’ve a horrid habit, which I’ll lend you for later.” What? “She means her Dominican monk’s black habit,” he explained, “plus the key to The Cloisters, Ma’am?” She nodded. “You can return everything to me after assembly tomorrow morning, Missus,” she said, gesturing towards the door, “wait here.” They did so, whilst dearest Davy put on his shoes. Seconds later, she returned, handing him a carrier bag. “There are suitable scourges where you’re headed,” she said, “and also a little something extra….since the habit can cover a multitude of sins.”

 

She saw his mouth move, so this was obviously an in-joke. “Mmmm,” she moaned as she kissed him soundly. “Should I ever quit my ministry,” she said when they’d separated, “and don’t have to stay semi-celibate, I’ll be seeking some suitable screwing from those seven inches of circumcised sin….” SMACKK “….Oww….” SMACKK “….Oww,” he gasped as she smacked his seat smartly, “….get thee behind me, Satan….but preferably in front, for fucking my fancy.” He opened the front door, and gestured for her to go first. “Until the end of August, Carmen,” he said, “unless you attend Summer School?” She nodded. “Most certainly,” she said, “since my short sermons on the subject of sexual sin are allowed to be….well, somewhat explicit, and my R E lessons have sample sessions of scourging for the sweet subbies.” Oo..er, yes MA’AM.


 

Thursday, February 2, 2023

Chapter 239 - part (1) of (4)

Divorce Day

Brenda Smith awoke at the sound of the main school clock tower known as Big Ben striking for 5am. She’d shared its company for almost seven long years, which would be ended in a very few days’ time. Unless, memory prompted, she took part in Summer School. As an august alumna, or Sometime Scholar, she’d soon be eligible. She felt the bed around her, and discovered she was alone. Somewhat surprised, she opened an eye, and saw the study door was still standing ajar. Her evening dates always left it so, as a courtesy for the morning man. She smiled as she recalled her latest screwing session with dearest Davy’s dad, who’d been at The Styx for the Prize Day just passed.

 

He’d written an advance entry in her NYPD many moons ago, although when it had been made was another matter. She was aware he made irregular conjugal calls to the school, in order to screw several of the Staff. He ran many Mistresses….allegedly around two dozen at any time. There was the Good Doctor….the teacher Fiona Allbright BA BSc MSc PhD. Fifi had once been in a ménage-á-trois with him and Olivia Helen Whapshott at Hanover College, Cambridge. Next there was the august Head of PT….the lean, lithe and luscious Ava Frasch. This strict and sexy Siren, with an intoxicatingly slim waist, always had a particular penchant for married men. He was also screwing the nymphomaniac School Secretary. Sue Sweet’s six Sesquipedalian Sequential Suitor Service Sessions ran three nights every week, between 6.15pm and 11.15pm. There were four further fuckers from 4am, taking the total tools to ten. Somehow this put her own deviance and depravity into perspective, and almost made her feel young and innocent again. She was certainly The Sex Slut Of St Stricktlands School for Year LXXXIX, though it paled into insignificance in comparison to The SS. But she really should sort out her successor, and try to do so later today.

 

Her memory turned back to Georgie Boy, since fucking her fiancé’s philandering father somehow seemed so superbly sinful. He was a serious subbie, with a disciplinary disposition which leaned at least ’levendy ’leven….143 to 1 in old money. However her hubby-to-be would be bonking the brains out of her Mother at some stage in the summer, so dishonours would be equal. But surely some stud should be sleeping with her now? In the light of the early dawn, she slipped out of bed. Then she padded across the room to the door, and opened her Notarise Your Penis Diary. Not the New York Police Department, she reflected as always whilst turning the pages.

 

Divorce Day!  -  lunchtime: Refectory -  2pm: Rectory

                   Hubby (am): Brian Macey 80/g to 40/g S

Senior Swaps: Nigel Doughty(am) Verity(pm)

Hubby(pm): very nice Bi-some threesome

 

Yes….it was Messy, with whom she’d taken pity and agreed a parting poke. He’d failed in every attempt at Weekly Wednesday Weedings since they’d begun, way back in the Autumn Term. As she padded back to bed, she reflected upon how one couldn’t help but admire his perseverance. Ordinarily this slot wouldn’t have been available, however her de-facto open-husband had taken it upon himself to visit Scotland for the weekend. The attraction wasn’t the scenery, but one Dominetta Grizelda Gutteridge at the University of Aberdeen. After much mutual misunderstanding, they’d finally hit it off, and decided to give it a go in the autumn….always assuming he’d passed his A-Level examinations? She’d enjoyed being Mrs Sharp every Sunday, however she’d not known until recently how he’d harboured hidden hankerings for her former frightful fagmistress. So everything had worked out well.

 

They could go their separate ways, with her to the University of Lancashire. There shouldn’t be too much doubt about even dearest Davy obtaining sufficiently good grades, since he’d successfully stitched up the system. With the Chancellor as a firm friend, not to mention the Admissions Officer, he’d obtained offers of three E’s for his ménage-á-cinq. The quid pro quo, or Reciprocal Exchange, was they’d all be required to attend The Tell-tale Tit every month. It would be fucking fun and frolics for all four floozies with Sir Digby Vaillance in this No Tell hotel, and dished derrière discipline for Davy by the noble knight.

 

Finally, she heard movement as a pathetic pink figure shuffled into the study. She glanced up at the wall clock and saw it was 5.12am. “What time do you call this, cretin?” she demanded, she sat up in bed. He cowered convincingly, even as his shaft strained. “I’m s..so sorry, Missus,” he stammered, “I was afraid you’d p..put me into p..predicament bondage all over again….as you’ve done every week for the Weedings.” She emerged out of bed again, and put on a black shower robe. “I will,” she said sternly, “so for starters, you’ll have a time of AH….” Appreciation Hour, and he fell to his knees in the Position For Penance, “….in the Bottoms-Up Bar, since you’re practically in place already.” It was one well-worthy of worship, with his arms outstretched. “No….mercy, Missus,” he moaned….SLAPP “….Oww….” SLAPP “….Oww,” he gasped as she struck each cheek.

 

“No mercy it is, Messy,” she said wittily, with the usual wilful misunderstanding, “so we’ll make it AHH instead….” Appreciation Hell Hour, “….I’m not expecting much of you. According to CBT, you were incredibly clingy, and at the same time taking her terribly for granted.” His former girlfriend Celia Briony Tew, who’d given him the old heave-ho. Then she shifted the smooth steel leg spreader behind him. “Arms back,” she ordered, and he moved them beneath his body. “Ohh….ohh….” he moaned as she shackled his wrists, “….ohh….ohh,” he added as both ankles were ironed around them. The position also meant his legs were spread fetchingly….SMACKK “….Oww….” SMACKK “….Oww,” he gasped as she smacked his seat sharply, before padding across to her study back wall. As always, it was completely covered with instruments of coercion and correction.

 

She helped herself to the Humbler and a riding crop, before returning to the Bottoms-Up Bar. “Your scrotum will suffer substantially,” she said, kneeling behind him. “Ohhh….” he moaned as she took hold of his testicles, “….AHHH….” he gasped as she twisted them tightly and turned them, “….UGHHH….” he continued as she pulled them through the hole. “….ohhh….” he repeated as the second slat was slipped into place, “….Ahhh….AHHH….” he added as the wooden screws were tightened around his testicles. “This is bit I enjoy most,” she said as she took hold of the Humbler, rotated it, and pulled it between his legs. “….AYEEEEE….HEEE,” he gasped as his scrotum was suddenly stretched, with the Humbler hard up against the base of his buttocks at the back. “Enjoy,” she said, as she retreated back to her bed, “you’d best hope I wake up again at six o’clock.” He stared at her helplessly as she closed her eyes.

 

Big Ben was suddenly striking again, although quite clearly 6am had passed. Oops….since according to her wall clock it was 6.30am, so he’d had over an hour. “I have to talk to someone,” she said sternly as she arose, “don’t go away.” Ha bloody ha….he’d be saying silently. With this, she padded out of the study, and started along the gloomy corridor. Hopefully this would all heap more mental misery on him. Quite honestly he deserved it all, since he’d been really rotten to Davy for the past year. They’d once been fairly firm friends, but jealousy during Year LXXXVIII still had the better of him. So despite Davy’s Private Study penance every Monday lunchtime to make amends, he’d remained completely cold. Although just maybe, she mused, his phenomenal failure with the Weedings might have been a contributory factor?

 

She reached the Level 3 landing, and started up the stone steps. At this early hour they were both empty and echoing. Not from her passage, since she was barefoot, but undoubtedly from some stud’s Sex Thrashing. The whacks wafted on the wind, and then a second set started, so the sex was good this morning….Bang. She reached the Level 6 landing, and started down into the depths….Bang. What was the witticism? Yes….The Cunt At Infinity, a mathematical construct of Davy’s own making. It represented a destination desperately desirable yet utterly unobtainable….BANG. They were louder now, as she approached the source….BANG.” Slightly unnerved, she reached study 24….BANG. Was it some sort of firearm she was hearing?

 

David Shagton

Quis illum sceleratum fuisse putavisset

 

Who Would Have Thought He Was A Scoundrel, read the Latin logo….her, for one. She knocked politely, and waited. “Entarrrr,” called out a feisty floozy, so she opened the door and stepped inside. Oops….since it seemed dearest Davy was definitely in difficulty. He was shackled spread-eagled to a big board in the centre of the study, upon which was a white heavy-duty clad covering. She could similarly see two wanton wicked Witches, in the Wild West wear. It was Calamity Jane style, with black tassel soft leather top and slacks. Then there were winkle-picker black cowgirl boots, complete with steel spurs. There was nothing much else apart from matching cowgirl hats and bullet belts….allowing bare backs, and beautiful bottoms. “Good morning, Bren,” he said breezily, “may I present two of the Records Rooms Registrars….” ohh….THEM, “….Betty Knorr to your left, and Arlene Gunter to your right. They’re known as Bête Noir and Air Gun….” very droll, “….which is all too appropriate, since as you see I’m firmly in their firing line….” they both turned to face her, “….meet my Missus, Mesdames.”

 

They all shook hands. “We’ve met, Davy,” she said, “last Friday afternoon at six o’clock, when they both showed up at my study, whilst waving an illegible beat sheet. They didn’t actually state their names, however I rather recall their rattans on my rear….some six stingers each….” she shrugged, “….I hadn’t found a moment to tell you about it, and I don’t say I didn’t deserve the discipline. But Mesdames, we really will be wedded at the end of August, so I’d be grateful if you didn’t put any bullets into his balls.” There were two separate sniggers. “Your handwriting DID improve after your short sharp shock,” said Air Gun, “as is so often the case, after one of our little visits of vapulation….” a good word, taken from Grahame’s Guide to Grandiloquisms, meaning flogging or flogged, “….it’s sound stress relief at the end of a long, hard day. But we’re superb shots, and you’ll see we’ve made an outline all around his body.”

 

She padded up to him, and sure enough she could see lines of bullets all imbedded in the cladding. “Obviously, the best bit is when we do along his legs,” said Bête Noir, “it’s simply a question of how close we go to his gonads. Would you like a demonstration?” She nodded, her heart thumping, since it was somehow incredibly erotic. Clearly, dearest Davy’s distended dick agreed, as it was pulsing at the provocation. She stood to one side, whilst Arlene Gunter took careful aim….BANG “….HOOO,” he huffed as the metal landed an inch beneath his balls. She could see how his straining shaft was shedding semen slightly, clearly under severe sexual stress. “You’re obviously in….well, unsafe hands, Davy,” she said, “so I’ll just deliver my message: Kindly be at the Rectory for two o’clock this afternoon, as Amen Carmen has agreed to run through some of the wedding arrangements….although I may be late, since I’m on Refectory duty. I’ll want you in the altogether, but you can keep a pair of black shoes to maintain your prefect’s privileges en route….” she paused, “….and Naccatape.”

 

It was hardly an imposition, since he was an incorrigible exhibitionist who enjoyed wandering around the place unclothed. Hopefully though, she might finally get to see the Parish Priest’s Gonads Guillotine? He’d told her all about it from his previous visit, and if so he’d be well prepared. “Most certainly, Bren,” he replied, “although if I’m not there, I may have taken Umbrage….” in the Medical wing, when sufficiently unwell even Nurse Crusher couldn’t throw out the sufferer. She regarded illness as insolence, and her personal prescription for a headache was six of the best. But Kristina’s bedside manner had always been less like Florence Nightingale, and much more Comrade Colonel Rosa Klebb. She was the horrid harridan of Ian Fleming fame in….well, From Russia Without Love, “….meantime, how are you making out with Messy?”

 

 

She stared at him. “How did you know about his session, Davy?” she asked. “I found out yesterday evening,” he confirmed, “since Feely Ceely mentioned it.” Uh..huh. “Has he been up to his old tricks again?” she asked. “She was a damsel in distress,” he replied, “since her Dominant dolt of a date had been a Wham-Bam-Thank-You-Ma’am, man.” Of which there were many. She did her best to avoid them, but it wasn’t always possible. When one of them won at the Weedings, she was stuck with him. Still….it was only for a single session. It always made her realize how much happier she was with switches….preferably sixdy-sixdy. As was she herself, six dozen to the gross, or even-steven.

 

“Go on, Davy,” she urged. “She hadn’t had any orgasms,” he explained, “and he was an obvious oralophobe. Since Messy had been moaning for ages about taking a tumble, she’d offered him the opportunity….” BANG “….HOOO….he said she could sod off, since he was saving his spunk for what would be a better bonk, one with Conscious Cunt Contraction Control….BANG “….HOOO….worse still, HE wouldn’t please pussy, either….” BANG “….HOOO….so I stepped into the breach with oral appreciation….” BANG “….HOOO….we couldn’t copulate, since I’d just taken a twat twice,” BANG “….HOOO….but were able to sleep together until changeover time….” BANG “….HOOO….hopefully, I should have the wherewithal with which to assist these Amazons….” BANG “….HOOO….always assuming I still have a scrotum.” She nodded, knowingly. “The completely competent Cunt Casanova, as always,” she said, “and don’t worry, I’ll soon sort him out….” she paused, “….it’s your final period of Private Study with him tomorrow. He doesn’t know where I am, and isn’t aware of who shopped him. But should he do anything out of the ordinary, his scrotum will suffer substantially….” she flexed her fingers, “….having been one of The Six Knackerers last year, he should know I mean business….” she winked once, “….let me leave you with your lovely Ladies. I hope they’re both able to enjoy your fancy to the full.”

 

They both nodded. “Seven inches of circumcised sin,” said Air Gun, “although we’ve a dozen more bullets to fire, first.” He cringed quietly in terror, although his tool twitched. “There’s a sheet on my desk, Bren,” he said in strangled tones, “which is my last Deposition….” hopefully not his Will and Testament? “….I’d like you to look it over before it’s taken to Terrence. You can return it to me this afternoon….one way or the other.” She nodded, ambled across the study, and rolled it up. “Sue Sweet won’t like it a lot….” opined Betty Knorr, having clearly read it already, “….weeks of work wasted,” added Arlene Gunter. She pocketed the paper, padded out of the study, and closed the door behind her….BANG “….Hooo.” Oh well, one down and eleven more to go. The likelihood was low, although the threat was absolute….BANG. She reached the Level 6 landing, and started down the steps again….Bang. The sounds of shooting finally faded at Level 3, replaced by more conventional Canings For Cunt. Finally, she reached study 17.

Brenda Smith

Hodie mihi, cras tibi

 

It Is My Turn Today, Yours Tomorrow, she reflected as always….and ever so apt for a switch. She opened the door and padded inside to find Messy was where she’d left him. It would have been a nine-day wonder, had anyone released him in the interim. “I’m so glad you’re back, Missus….” SLAPP “….Oww….” SLAPP “….Oww,” he gasped, “It’s Ma’am, if you don’t mind, Messy,” she muttered, “and I’m afraid you won’t be very shortly….” he stared at her with worry, “….your sins have found you out. I’ve heard all about how you spurned Silly’s amorous advances yesterday evening. It’s all pretty pathetic, and even if you couldn’t bring yourself to bonk her, you could still have pleased pussy. So it’ll be another hour….only worse.”

 

She rolled a large apparatus behind him, which looked a little like a fairground wheel, standing some six feet in diameter, “….this is my group’s General Studies project….” she plugged it in to an electric wall socket, “….called The Big Weal….” what wit, “….obviously not spelled W-H-E-E-L. It’s a threshing….or rather thrashing machine for tenderizing tools, testicles and tushes. In your case, it’ll be the third of the three….” he wriggled, a pointless procedure. “NO,” he shouted….would he never learn? “….fine, so we’ll make it more….” she was rewarded with a simple sob, as she removed three of the six radial spokes, which had once been flexible plastic fly swatters. An ambiguous phrase, since the flies in question weren’t made of the material, nor were they so inclined.

 

Then she adjusted the remainder, “….two spokes will spank your seat soundly….beating both buttocks, one after the other. Then the third will tap your tool to make it tingle. I’ll be generous, and set it to slow, with one revolution per minute.” She pressed the start button, and the spokes started to spin….Whapp “….Oww….” Whapp “….Oww….” he gasped….Whapp “….Uhhh,” he added, from sinful stimulation. “Enjoy,” she said with a yawn, “since I’m going back to bed.” He stared at her with honest hatred, whilst waiting for the worst….Whapp “….Oww….” Whapp “….Oww,” she heard as she retreated back to her bed….Whapp “….Uhhh.”  Then she extracted Davy’s Deposition, and slipped between the sheets.

 

On: Same Sex Fagging

Mesdames et Messieurs – With what will almost certainly be my final Deposition as a scholar at this illustrious educational establishment, I write in connection with the system of fagging. Although this has traditionally been accomplished by a scholar of the same sex as his fearsome fagmaster (or her frightful fagmistress) it occurs to me this need not necessarily be the case. I am reminded of researches by previous prefect Samantha Terrier during Year LXXXVII. She made a special request of the School Secretary to be allocated a fella for senior fag, and apparently there was no actual prohibition in the school rules. As matters turned out, it was MY bare bottom which bore the brunt of her beatings for Year LXXXVIII. I in my turn asked for and was allocated Mitchell Mary Murphy for senior fag, and Kelly Morgan for junior. Both these critters were caned competently and comprehensively for cause without complaint during Year LXXXIX. Having requested regular and repeated receipt of the rattan, I was able to ensure The Pirate was sent out of my study with a suitably stinging and sore seat. (I must mention my Mitches too had specifically asked her parents if she might be sent to St Sticks. One principal reason was because St Judes School in Letchhampton solely swishes studs, and not sluts. I have since spoken to my former Headmaster, proposing the principle of posterior punishment for guilty girls).

 

Whapp “….Oww….” Whapp “….Oww,” he gasped….Whapp “….Uhhh.”

 

Upon further reflection, the same sex limitation is regularly breached by the system of Senior and Junior Swaps. In this connection, my prefect peer Myfanwy Smith has already done a Deposition with regard to the S7….the Standard St Stricktlands School Study Scrotum Snatcher. It was with the suggestion they should be made available to pretty prefects, for the primary purpose of pulling appropriate parts during such Swaps. Likewise for pink bowties, enabling naked waiter service. (High-heeled shoes would present no problem, already being available).

 

Whapp “….Oww….” Whapp “….Oww,” he gasped….Whapp “….Uhhh.”

 

But given the inescapable evidence of two years’ experience with no ill-effects (other than suitably stinging seats) may I offer the idea of young bucks for prefects-with-pussy, and sinful sluts for those with penis. I appreciate there may be many instances where the present arrangements are preferred. Obviously the gay guys might well be much happier as matters stand, and likewise the lovely Lezzies. As regards the Bi-Babes and boys….well, almost anyone might be acceptable.

 

Whapp “….Oww….” Whapp “….Oww,” he gasped….Whapp “….Uhhh.”

 

The School Secretary has achieved an outstanding success rate with fagging placements over the years, and I would not wish to detract from her achievements. However, this proposed amendment would simply allow her greater flexibility. I commend it to the Governors for adoption forward from Year XC, and remain yours faithfully, David Shagton, prefect.

 

OMG….this was all making her horrendously horny. “Uhhh....” she moaned as she stroked her slit, “….uhhh….uhhh….uhhh….uhhh….” Whapp “….Oww….” Whapp “….Oww….” he gasped….Whapp “….Uhhh.” She was nearly there. “UHHH….yes….YESS….YESS,” she murmured, before turning over in orgasmic ecstasy. Then she closed her eyes.

 

Big Ben suddenly struck, and she awoke at once. She glanced up at the clock, and saw it was 7.45am, so again he’d had in excess of an hour. She glanced down at him, and saw a sad sight. He was completely covered in sweat, and his hair was a shambles….really Messy, in fact. “I’m so sorry, Ma’am….” Whapp “….Oww….” Whapp “….Oww....” he croaked as she arose….Whapp “….Uhhh.” She padded towards one wardrobe, opened it and hung up her shower robe on the door. Then she took out a pair of black riding boots, padded across the study and switched off The Big Weal. “You can provide me with a handy footstool,” she said, putting one boot onto his back. “Ohh….” he moaned as she trod her left foot into it, and zipped it up, “….ohh,” he added as she repeated it with the right.

 

“Lick them both, Messy,” she ordered, standing at his head, “although you’ve been let off licking labial lips, since my twat’s been totally turned by your torments.” He made several feeble attempts to do so….THWAPP “….Ahhh,” he gasped as she struck his cheek with the crop. “You can do MUCH better, Messy,” she said, “then you can think about a boot as I beat….” what wonderful wit, as he struggled to obey, “….since I may as well also address your Sex Thrashing.”

 

She strutted away, and collected a cane from her bedside cabinet. Ordinarily, it would be used to administer a Caning For Cunt for the lucky lad lying on the bed, with a Pillow Punishment Points Of Pain. It propped up the posterior, but also offered a sewn-in circular pressure pad of pure pain which was completely covered with small semi-sharp spikes at inch intervals. Though this morning, Messy could have the hits in situ, since his arse was already in the air. “You may recall,” she said didactically, “how I administered a dozen due to dearest Davy yesterday evening on The Podium….” for the first of his brand-new Sinner Swishing Saturdays at six, “….although in accordance with my cunt currency, I’ve a special tariff for subbies. You edge eighdy to fordy….” or eight dozen to four, “….sloping somewhat to submission, so it’s a thorough thirdeen.…” formerly a frightful fifteen, “….so now you’ll suffer substantially for your sins….” she paused, “….but best put any thoughts of displaced revenge onto my worse half out of your mind….” he nodded weakly as she gauged the angles, “….staccato style in threes, so it’ll all be over quite quickly….” which wasn’t for his benefit.

 

She’d overslept, and they’d still to screw before the fags arrived….Shaggette and Dirty, “….you may kiss the cane, to confirm your innate inferiority and insipience.” Another good grandiloquism, this one meaning lack of wisdom. “Mmmm….mmmm,” he murmured as he did so, lovingly. Most likely, he’d prefer it to kissing her. “You can state some of the Standard Subbie Swishing Sentiments,” she said, “with one after each set of strikes.”

 

SWISHHHTHWACKKKK    SWISHHHTHWACKKKK    SWISHHHTHWACKKKK

“YEEE..HEEE..EEEE….THREE, thank you MA’AM,” he yelped, “prolonged and painful posterior punishment puts me properly in my place, Ma’am.” Second and subsequent staccato style strokes stung much more, since they landed on the same spot. But Sex Thrashing ones were worse, since they struck straight downwards. Still, she hadn’t spunked him first before flogging, so he should count his blessings.

 

SWISHHHTHWACKKKK    SWISHHHTHWACKKKK    SWISHHHTHWACKKKK

“YAROOO..OOOO..HOOO….SIX, thank you, MA’AM,” he gasped, “I deeply desire derrière discipline, Ma’am.”    

 

SWISHHHTHWACKKKK    SWISHHHTHWACKKKK    SWISHHHTHWACKKKK

“YEOWWW..OWWW..WOWW….NINE,” he gasped, “a nasty nine, thank you, MA’AM. I believe bad boys’ bare bottoms benefit from beating, Ma’am.”     

 

SWISHHHTHWACKKKK    SWISHHHTHWACKKKK    SWISHHHTHWACKKKK

“YEOUCHH..OUCH..OUCH….TWELVE,” he gasped, “a dozen due, thank you, MA’AM. Please be HARD with me….since I’m hard with you, Ma’am.” An action easily achieved    

 

SWISHHHTHWACKKKKKK    SWISHHHTHWACKKKKKK    SWISHHHTHWACKKKKKK     

“YIKES..YIKES..YIKES….THIRDEEN,” he gasped, “a thorough thirdeen, thank you MA’AM. Thank you for my thrashing, which was thoroughly therapeutic.” Despite all his faults, at least he was completely competent at contrition. “Ohh….ohh,” he muttered as she released his shackles, “Your tenderized tool appears to have leaked a lot,” she said as he shifted his stance and rubbed his wrists, “so let’s hope it’s learned its lesson. I don’t like living in a mess, Messy, so sort it out….there’s a good lad.” She collected the cane, as he shimmied around, and set it down onto her study table.

 

Then she watched whilst he licked up all the liquid which had fallen from his fancy onto the wooden floor. “I’ll ride you round the room,” she said, “ending up at Sexy Sammy’s Riding Bench for Expert Equestriennes.” Which had originally been Olivia Helen Whapshott’s General Studies project….Davy’s Mum, and placed permanently in this study. “Ohh….” he moaned as she sat on his back, “….MMMM,” he added as she stuck the crop between his teeth as some sort of bit. “MMMM….MMMM,” he gasped as she stuck the spurs into his sides. “Giddy-up, steed,” she ordered. “MMMM….MMMM,” he repeated as he commenced his crawl around the study, with the Humbler hardly helping.