Results
Then they reached the Alphabet estate, and she turned into ACACIA AVENUE. She parked in the driveway of № 8, and leaned across to him. “Mmmm,” he moaned as she kissed him. “Thank you, Icky,” he said when they’d separated, “it’s been fun….” then he had another thought, “….would you like to attend my wedding….on the last Saturday in August? You could drive to St Sticks with The Good Doctor, and I should be able to set you up for a session in Stern Hall with the Sadistic Screw. It wouldn’t be me, since I’ll be on honeymoon….but Officer Thor Thring. He’s a firm friend of mine, and I’m sure he’d be happy to treat you very badly indeed.”
She smiled widely. “It all sounds superb, Shagger,” she said, “so until next month.” She mouthed him another kiss as he emerged from the car. Then he opened the trunk and collected his clothes, before padding towards the back door. It would be less conspicuous than going for the front. She gave him a wave as she reversed out of the driveway, and headed off along the street. Now he rummaged around in his pockets for the back door key, and unlocked it. He padded inside the kitchen, and set down his clothes onto the table. So what was next? Lunch could wait, since it was still before 10am.
Seconds later, the telephone rang. He padded into the hall, and picked it up. “Letchhampton 26901?” he said. “Hello, dearest Davy,” said a sultry Siren, “where the FUCK have you all been? I’ve worn my finger down to the first knuckle in dialling you for the past hour.” He smiled. “I’m so sorry, Bren,” he replied, “but Mum, dad and I have been at SIDE STREET….although as for Lyn, I haven’t the faintest. She’s probably screwing some studs somewhere.” There was a slight sniff. “Were you fucking Fifi again, honey?” she asked. “No,” he replied, “it was actually Icky Bicky….and whilst I remember, could you add Veronica Bickington to the invitations list. I daresay The Good Doctor’s already on it.”
There was a short pause. “Duly noted,” she said, “and yes she was….since your Mother’s already asked for her inclusion. Now….have your results arrived? Mine have, and I’ve three As….the same as Miffy. I don’t know about The Green Goddess or Uncle Sam yet, but what’s yours? And don’t say a mild and bitter.” After the allusion towards ordering alcohol in a bar. “I achieved an A and two Bs, Bren,” he replied, “so we at least will be away to northern climes in September.” There was a sudden Clickk, and he had the impression they weren’t alone on the line. “I’ll love you and leave you, Davy,” she said, “and well done. I didn’t think you had it in you….” she giggled, “….although next month you can have it in me….albeit officially for the first time.” Very fucking funny….so to speak. “Well done too, Shagger,” said another vixen’s voice, “who are the other people your fuckable fiancée was talking about?”
He exhaled. “If you MUST know….Phyllida,” he said to the eavesdropping telephone operator, “it’s Myfanwy Smith, who’s Bren’s half Sister, Ursula Smith who’s no relation to either of them, and Shirley Greene. Together we hope to make a ménage-à-cinq at University.” There was a slight snigger. “Nice work if you can get it,” she said, “and talking of which, there’s also been several missed calls from a Lancaster PABX in the past hour…..” a Private Automatic Branch Exchange, as used by large organizations, “….Georgie Boy should really consider buying an ansaphone….ohh….here they are again.”
There was another Clickk. “Hello….Annie,” he said. “How did you know it was me, Shagger?” Anne Tee demanded. “It would take too long to explain,” he replied, “but presumably you already know the good news about my results?” Probably the Universities received them before the candidates? “Yes,” she confirmed, “and I’m calling to ask you what course you’d like? Always assuming you’ve decided?” He nodded to nobody. “From what Manitoba Hardcastle told me,” he said, “I think soft science would be a much easier option than Physics, so I’ll settle for Psychology. I have my Maths, if there’s any necessary in the subject.”
There was a short pause. “The Hard Man’s Dean of the Department,” she agreed, “so he should know. I’ll advise him accordingly how he has an extra fresher.” He smiled. “I’m expecting to meet him again next month,” he said, “since he’ll probably be my fearful fagmaster at Summer School.” She giggled girlishly. “When?” she asked, “since Jed and I will be attending week 4 in August….playing In The Pink.” Such a shame, “I’ll only be there for week 5, Annie,” he said, “so I’ll look forward to next year.” Pending further fucks at University. “I’ll screw you soon enough in September, Shagger,” she said sagely, and then there was dialling tone.
With the incoming calls addressed, it was time to make some outgoing ones. First of all, he recalled the freephone number for Wodin Thring. Then he dialled it accordingly….0800 569469, and waited for ringing tone. “Stern Hall Enterprises, how may I help you?” asked the villain’s voice he knew so well, and a tingle travelled down his torso before terminating in his testicles. “Good morning, Sir,” he said, “this is Shagger speaking. I was wondering whether Thor might be able to help? I’ve a submissive slut who’d like a session with the Sadistic Screw. She’s attending my wedding, which is the last Saturday in August….and would very much appreciate being slung into the cells.”
There was barely concealed mirth. “For some what-for with what-ho, Shagger,” he said, “but yes, I am sure my strict son would be happy to help. If I might have her telephone number, I will confirm times.” Easily achieved. “It’s Letchhampton 23691, Sir,” he said, “and I hope you’ll be attending the ceremony too?” There was a slight snigger. “Your fiancée has kindly invited us both,” he replied, “and we are looking forward to it immensely. Although not necessarily to the Wedlock and KTB, which are apparently requirements for all mere males. Still, they should certainly stop the studs from hitting on the Bridesmaids….being Burdizzo Babes. Goodbye for now.” Which was the whole idea. “Thank you so much, Sir,” he confirmed, “until next month.” Then the line went dead, and he had dialling tone again for his next call.
Now it was 01 for London, followed by PAD GIRL, using the alphanumeric letters. It was as in Paddington, but with a tilt towards titillation….since this WAS a No Tell hotel. “Good morning,” said another known voice, “The Regal Rooms….and reservations.” It was the owner, an august alumna of St Sticks. “Hello, Irma,” he replied, “this is Shagger, from St Sticks. I’d like to book a double room for this Friday, please.” There was a slight squeal, “Ooh….Shagger,” she said, “this is so sudden. Are you sure your Missus won’t mind you screwing me again?” He shook his head. “I’m afraid I can’t guarantee my gonads,” he said, to a slight sniff. “Fair comment, Shagger,” she said, “I suppose you’ve some sinful sluts lined up? Some sowing of wild oats day before the wedding next month….?” how the hell had she known? “….Georgie Boy’s promised me an invitation….” Ohh, “….although since yours is another open-marriage, it won’t make much difference….I hope. After all, I’m still screwing HIM on occasion.”
He’d suspected she was yet another of his many Mistresses. “One William Shanks will be with me, Irma,” he said, “although I don’t yet know which, if either of us, will use the room. Actually, I’m hoping to ask Soixante whether she’d like some suitable sex slave service? She wasn’t terribly taken with Will when they last met at a Reformatory, however he’s now a reformed character.”
There was a short pause. “I’ll mention the matter to 60dB, Shagger,” she said, “since she’s become very enthusiastic about St Sticks’ scholars….after both you and Relay showed her how she didn’t necessarily need to pay for provision of penis. I did once think about offering her Georgie Boy, but decided no. It would merely mean my slit would score even less with his seven inches of circumcised sin. But actually I was winding you up ever-so slightly, since your reservation’s already made….” ohh, “….Cutie called a few days ago….” Queenie Tee, the noble knight’s executive Secretary….and also Ante’s Sister, “….and on Sir Digby Vaillance’s instructions, I’ve booked you a premium price de Sade Salon….” so nothing but the best, “….which includes Company….” Happy Hookers, “….do you want me to arrange anything?”
He pursed his lips. “Could you book Clandestine Cabs for half past six?” he asked, “on the company tab. But as regards erotic entertainment, I’ve decided to give Scary Sari a go. She saw Panty Pervert Pete’s performance at ON-STAGE STOOGE. I’ll call her myself, so goodbye….at least until Friday.” There was the sound of a smack. “She can claim her cash from reception on arrival,” she said, “….goodbye, and give yourself a couple of these from me, you appallingly bad boy.” SMACKK “….Oww….” SMACKK “….Oww,” he said as he hit his own hiney hard. He’d never been much into self-spanking….but hadn’t needed to be. His Mother had always provided as much posterior punishment as he could….well, shake a seat at.
“I can sense the sound of smacks on skin,” said Pillar the Filler, with some insight, “I bet you’re standing starkers, Shagger,” He considered carefully how he’d had four different telephone conversations over the past few minutes….and none of them had known he was naked. “I’m guilty as charged, m’Lady,” he admitted, “one day they’ll invent videophones, and then my ruses will be rumbled.” There was another snigger. “The present system does allow exposure of errant erections without risk,” she said, “although I’d venture to suggest Panty Pervert Pete’s peccadilloes are way beyond private….” quite correct, “….I’d ask for an invitation to the wedding too, but I shall be on holiday in Greece….hopefully screwing some studs.” So sea, sand sun and sex?
“Taking of holidays, Filly,” he said, “I have to arrange mine. So my next call is to Cornwall, and a chat to my dearest Aunt Marge….” he dialled the 0800 number, “….it’s another of those witty alphanumerics….A-K-T-B-4-U.” She sniggered. “I get it,” she said, “a Kali’s Teeth Bracelet for you….yes MA’AM.” The line rang several times. “Cell House Holidays, good morning,” said Margaret Whapshott, in a withering voice. He shivered slightly, since although properly polite, it still exuded an air of menace. State your business, it said….or stop wasting my valuable time.
“Hello, Aunty,” he said, “this is David speaking. I wonder whether I might book myself in for a spell at the Reformatory?” There was a short snigger. “When did you have in mind?” she asked. “I thought I’d arrive late Saturday evening,” he explained, “I’ll have been in town the previous day, and there are through services from LondoN PaddingtoN….” he paused, “….obviously my departure’s entirely at the gift of the Guards. Hopefully though they’ll let me out in time for my week at Summer School, following which it’s my wedding.”
There was a short pause. “The latter being the last Saturday in August, David,” she said sternly, “since I’ve every intention of attending, too. I’m really rather looking forward to seeing you dragged down the aisle by your new open-Wife, whilst being whipped by the Bridesmaids. But yes, we’ve a Reformatory place available. The facility’s open for all guests this year, for the periods of operation. I won’t tell you which Guards will be on duty, since it’ll be fun finding out….the hard way. Try and tell me what train you’re on, so someone can meet you at Pennance Road. This time though, I won’t make you walk.”
He ought to be thankful for small mercies, since it was a LONG way….as indeed he’d discovered two years previously. “Thank you, Aunty,” he replied, “I expect to be a reformed character by the time you and the other Guards have finished with me.” There was a second snigger. “Fat chance,” she replied, “you’re a no-hoper, and always have been. Although I have to admit I was impressed by your A-Level grades….” how the HELL had she known? “….as Chair of Governors, I have everyone’s results….” Ohh, “….and it’ll be one lash for the Vulgarity…..” as always, her apparent mind reading abilities were working well, “….you should expect to spend your first night in The Doghouse. I gather you’ve taken to travelling in luxury, so this stint should serve to take you down a few pegs. We’ve some new items for our guests this year, in addition to the Hardnut Quarry, one of which is Bikes Spikes. Cycling will never be the same, and I’m sure you won’t enjoy it….” so was he….whatever they were? “….goodbye until Saturday, David.”
She rang off without waiting for an answer, and there was the inevitable Clickk. “If this is the sales office,” opined the telephone operator, “whatever is it like in the complaints department?” Easy-peasy. “No guest ever complains at Hell House Holidays, Filly,” he said darkly, “because they’d be whipped well….or rather much more, since scourging’s standard anyway. I’ve more calls to make, and the next is to 01 – PAD BOOK. Perhaps you’d care to dial the number for me?” If so, it would probably be a free call, since he might as well have something out of all this?
Seconds later, there was ringing tone. “Foibles Books and Magazines, good morning?” asked yet another known vixen’s voice. “Hello….Theresa,” he said, “this is Shagger speaking. I called into the shop one evening a few weeks ago, and we had an interesting chat about The Fall Guy….” he was interrupted, “….and The Swiss Service,” she agreed amiably, clearly remembering what they’d discussed about her Marketing Director and his Departmental Manageress, Bernadette Svisse. But Falstaff Geiger too had a vitriolic vanilla Wife, and dealt with the difficulty with a little….well, Swiss service on the side.
“You asked me to let you know when and if I’d be at On-Stage Stooge again, Ma’am,” he explained, “and the answer is this Friday evening. I expect it to be about six o’clock, with a firm friend. Wanker Boy Will, plus Panty Pervert Pete hope to perform posterior punishments on each other, for the lovely Ladies’ pleasure….if you were able to attend?” There was a slight sniff. “Try to keep me away, Shagger,” she said, “I suppose you’ll be staying at The Regal Rooms, so don’t bother to book any Company for afters….” it seemed he’d definitely be in residence. “Yes, Ma’am,” he replied, “and no, I won’t.” There was another Clickk, so it seemed Phyllida Pillar had his number in more ways than one? “….see you soon, Shagger….” the usual euphemism, “….although I won’t be able to linger longer, since I’m on lock-up duty at the shop.” He recalled how they stayed open until 11pm. “Screw you soon, Ma’am,” he agreed, “and enjoy the show.”
There was loud CLICKK. “So who was she?” asked the Intercept Operator. “The Manageress, Ms Taser,” he replied. “Possibly the cheapest chat-up call I’ve ever heard,” she said, “effortlessly enticing a beautiful Bird into bed. You really didn’t have to try very hard for her amorous affections.” Certainly things were far different now, since he’d become a Cunt Casanova. “If you want to do me another favour, Filly,” he said, “you can call Central Despatch, and book a priority prepaid taxi from here at a quarter to five. Please be very sure to ask them to allocate Wok Peace to the fare.” She giggled girlishly. “More mischief, Shagger?” she asked. “It’s merely a romantic candle-lit dinner for two lovely Ladies,” he replied. “I still suspect skulduggery, Shagger,” she said, “but leave it with me.”
So another job done. “I should still source a second screw,” he mused, “and you may remember the entry from Scary Sari on the same Comment Card as Theresa The Teaser.” There was another giggle. “Living dangerously again, Shagger,” she said, “what was her number?” He pursed his lips. “It’s another freephone, Filly,” he said, “0800 168269.”
There was a short pause. “This is a recorded message,” said a strict-sounding Siren, “if you’re a beginner, don’t bother me. Scary Sari offers six hour sessions of Snuff Stuff for premium punters who can pay the price. I offer….well, capital punishments for sluts and studs in predicament bondage….” what wit, “….complete with balls beating, tits tweaking, cunnie punnie, plus plenty of posterior pain. It’s outcalls only at your hotel. Stay on the line if you’re still interested.” His penis promptly pulsed, whilst he waited. “Oo..er….yes, MA’AM,” muttered Phyllida Pillar. “Hello?” asked the same vixen’s voice, most likely live.
“Good morning, Ma’am,” he said politely, “you very kindly left an entry on a Comment Card, following Panty Pervert Pete’s performance at ON-STAGE STOOGE.” There was a sudden snigger. “Yes indeed,” she replied, “very choice it was, too. Are you up for it in London again….Peter?” He smiled. “I shall be putting in another appearance at six o’clock on Friday evening,” he said, “and wondered whether you’d be available for a session on Saturday morning?” He waited. “Yes,” she said, “from six am….until noon. Can you cope with such an early start?” No problem. “Certainly, Ma’am,” he replied, “since at school, Rise And Shine was always at this early hour.”
Old habits die hard. “Are you experienced in Snuff Stuff?” she asked. “Yes, Ma’am,” he confirmed, “not massively, but I have had some….and lived to tell the tale.” Hopefully, this should suffice? “Where are you staying, Peter?” she asked. “It’s The Regal Rooms in Paddington, Ma’am,” he replied, “and I’m booked into a premium price de Sade Salon, which includes the cost of Company.” There was a slight snigger. “Who’s footing the bill for all your filthy fantasies?” she asked. “It’s Vaillance Holdings PLC, Ma’am,” he replied, “and under the name of Purvis.” There was a slight sniff, “Expense account corporate hospitality,” she said, “nice work if you can get it. I’m already booked with a beautiful Bi-Babe for Friday evening. She’s a seriously subbie slut, so we’ll start her six hour session by sampling your sordid showing. But I’ll screw you Saturday….so goodbye until then.” She rang off.
“Genuine Jam Tomorrow, so to speak, Shagger,” agreed Phyllida Pillar. “Thank you, Filly,” he said, “it’s been nice chatting to you, as always.” There was another snigger. “I was rather hoping for some sex-pest calls,” she said, “to brighten my day.” Always happy to help. “UH..HUHH,” he moaned, an octave below normal, “UH..HUHH….Ah wanna fuck yer fancy, Filly,” it was somewhere between a weird east-end of London accent, plus PC Plod having a bad hair, “….UH..HUHH….screw yer slit….UH..HUHH….Ah wanna wank wiv yer cute cunt.” She sniggered softly. “Thank you so much, Shagger,” she said, “Enjoy your sinful sojourn in Soho….and all your other dalliances with deviant damsels and Dames.” There was another Clickk, and she too was gone. He glanced up at the clock, and saw it was 9.49am, so all the calls had taken longer than he’d thought? Perhaps he’d put in an hour of hoovering? It would, as Sexy Sammy had always said, serve to keep him humble. Then he’d prepare lunch.
* * * * * *
The time was 3.42pm, and the Monthly Mothers Meeting in the lounge was in full swing. Lynda had let in all the lovely Ladies, so he wasn’t aware of all the attendees. He’d spent much of the afternoon helping to prepare not one, but two different evening meals. It was the romantic dinner, to be transported in aluminium catering cartons, but also his Mother’s and Sister’s. He’d done dumplings….six small suet puddings to put into the stew. He’d since discovered the dastardly details of his parents’ dalliances from his dad. It seemed they’d visited St Judes School, which was now also out of term time. There they’d met up with his former Headmaster, by prior appointment.
It had been a Detention, and during the hour they’d each suffered several sound swishings. However, his Mother would be reporting to Dr Ivan Quorn again this evening for further fucking fun and frolics. Lynda hadn’t said where she’d been, but most likely it was the Letchhampton Rugby Football Club again. There was never any shortage of studs at the RFC….and Superior Sirs, to administer all HER Canings For Cunt onto their colleagues. But this afternoon she’d been in her element, standing starkers in the centre of the lounge. She’d been answering any amount of intrusive Questions regarding her Academic and Discipline Reports, as recovered from Icky Bicky. He’d seen photocopies of each himself, and they made grim reading. The latter had been one of the longest he’d ever seen, with eulogies from over four dozen prefects….including his own efforts.
He was currently standing alone outside the lounge door. He was similarly starkers, apart from a set of smooth steel bondage hardware. It comprised a slave collar, waistband, ankle irons, and balls band. His Mother had kindly handcuffed him before the session had started. Lynda had eventually emerged, with a painful posterior plus an ecstatic expression. ‘Next time, Davy and dad,’ she’d said dreamily, ‘I want some of this beautiful bondage, too.’ She’d also claimed to be going upstairs for a short shower, however this was clearly an excuse for Wasting Water. Obviously she was on a sexual high, and wanted to ply her pussy, preferably with the strongest jet. Then his father had gone inside, similarly in sex slave status. There’d been some sort of storytelling, followed by sounds of sin.
Finally the lounge door opened again, and his Mother motioned him forward. He padded inside to find his father kneeling naked in the Position For Pleasuring, offering oral appreciation to Flirty Girty from № 30. Alas, this was a type of twat treat he was unlikely to enjoy. She was a divine-looking creature, in the short skirt and high heels favoured by all the members. However, he was well aware how she preferred more mature mere males.
“George has told everyone of our entertaining exploits this morning at SIDE STREET, David,” she said, “but during the discourse, I caught him Leching Longingly Like A Loser….” which wasn’t hard, “….Girty’s had Humping Harlots with head, Stroking Sluts with scalp and Nuzzling Nubiles with nose. So now it’s Tickling Tarts with tongue….with simultaneous strafing of shoulders whilst he meets my martinet.” Thwackk “….AHHH,” he gasped from the seven strands of sheer suffering.
“Stand centrally, David,” she said, “be sure to turn round slowly, so we can all see your seat and shaft.” Which would also mean an ever-changing appreciative audience, the height of humiliation, exactly as he’d asked at Fifi’s. He’d be Staring At Skirts all the time, which must mean being whacked well. Needless to say, Staring At Seats and Shafts were freebies for floozies “Yes, Mum,” he said, “you asked me to tell everyone the events of yesterday evening at the Lido. Since it was a Sunday, the buses into town would be fairly empty. I was attired in my previous pink uniform from St Sticks, including my hated school cap. As always, it made me feel about fourteen. Although there was no shortage of seats, I stood all the way, for reasons which will become clear.” Finally his philandering father finished Flirty Girty, and began work with Katy.
“It’ll be a cheap shopping sojourn today, son,” said the driver, as he moved towards the door to disembark, “although it certainly seems as if someone’s been a bad boy.” He smiled sweetly. “Yes, Sir,” he muttered as the bus stopped, and he stepped off. Then he continued along the otherwise empty HIGH STREET, walking with the classic canees’ gait of guilt. Look At Me, his body was saying, I’ve Just Been Caned. The town clock was just striking for 6pm when he reached SIDE STREET, feeling quite apprehensive. “Hello….big boy….” said a floozy from a parked car, after rolling down the window, “….going my way?”
Wasn’t this a bit back to front? “Ullo….gorgeous,” he replied in kind, “are you interested in some business?” She mouthed him a kiss. “Step inside, handsome,” she said, “and I’ll….well, show you a few things.” Promises. “This isn’t your house,” he protested. “No,” she agreed, “but none of us have garages, so it’s pot luck to park. Where we’ll be when we return is anyone’s guess.” He duly did so, and then they were away. Now he could see her more clearly, she was wearing a brown Lee van Cleef cloak, beehive brunette wig and matching mask. Most likely it was only a tightly-fitting striped stretch top underneath. “Where are we headed?” he asked.
“The public pond,” she replied. “This isn’t a good idea,” he protested, “since I happen to know the whole area’s completely covered by CCTV.” She shook her head. “Nonsense,” she said, as they turned back onto the HIGH STREET, “since I did this last Sunday evening with….well, another sinful schoolboy, and there were no problems. I first met him at your Adult Detention Class over the half term holiday. He’s somewhat shy, and not very good with girls. He confessed to dealing with his carnal cravings by humping Happy Hookers….although apparently alas his favourite fucker has gone into semi-retirement, and is only available during school holidays….” he had an inkling of her identity, “….he has a hankering for role-playing Panty Pervert Pete, though he claims to be far too shy. So Flasher Frederique was able to give him a demonstration of deviance.”
They pulled into LETTSBY AVENUE, passing the Police station. Then it was on to the public park, and a few seconds later she stopped at the Pavilion. “I suppose we’re speaking of The Sphinx?” he suggested, “always assuming it was a bit of banking bonking afterwards?” She winked once. “Yes,” she admitted.
“What’s his name, Shagger?” asked Muriel Quince, “seems he seems to be my kind of critter. You know how much I enjoy showing such shy types the ropes.” He did indeed. “It’s Stephen Hinks, Ma’am,” he replied, “although I don’t know his phone number. However he works as a teller at the NATIONAL PROVINCIAL BANK on the HIGH STREET, so you can find him easily enough.” She nodded, as did several other members. Most likely he’d find his social life improving drastically, although they’d be so-called respectable married Ladies. It would also mean less custom for Leopard-skin Lucy, but this didn’t much matter. After all, she had her salary from St Sticks with which to pay the bills. Katy cummed convincingly, and next it was Janet.
“You’ll find a camera in the glove compartment,” she said, “for some feelthy photos. It’s an instamatic, so simply point and shoot….the same as your shaft in my slit, later….” very droll, “….you go first, and simply select an empty bench. It’s quite late, so most people ought to be headed home for dinner.” He collected the camera, still not convinced, but did as bid. She was quite correct, and there was nobody about by the pond, so he sat down. “Ohh,” he gasped, as his raw rear reminded him of the severe Sex Thrashings he’d suffered earlier.
“Anyone we know, Shagger?” asked Jeanette Diamond. “It was Audrey Amesbury and Dorothy Onibury from № 76 CHRYSANTHMUM CRESCENT, Ma’am….” he replied, whilst watching his father start work with Gillian Rogers, “….but being a Bi-some threesome, it meant twice the punishment for pussy. They’ve a Mean Machine, which works well….as On The Dot and The AA are substantial subbies, who won’t wield the weapon. Although their combined currencies are only six strokes, they managed to mis-set the machine to six minutes. Alas it’s easily done, and I’ve made the same mistake in the past. So I suffered some seventeen serious stingers….and all in a spunked out state, when the whacks were worst. Now you know why I stood on the bus.” Slowly, he turned….for further floozies.
He stared at the ducks, and several minutes later, a brown booted figure approached his bench. “Flasher Frederique fucks fellas,” she said, throwing open her cloak. As he’d suspected, she was wearing the Keysell costume. “Uhhh….Ma’am,” he moaned, as his Knackerpants hit him hard. The slightest sexual stimulus was sufficient to set him straining.
“I hadn’t realized Pat had so much competition….” said fuckable Fleur Phelps. Her pretty face rather reminded him of the presenter….but they WERE second cousins, twice removed, “….I still wonder whether she was aware of being a sex object for many millions of mere males?”
“Slip your shorts down and stroke shaft,” she said softly. Hopefully the cameras wouldn’t pick up this perversion? “Uhhh….Ma’am,” he moaned, “I want to poke your pussy….uhhh….Pat I’m a worthless wanker….uhhh.” Abruptly, she shut her cloak. “Sort yourself out, Shagger,” she said, “and meet me back at the car.” Quickly, she padded away. “Ahhh….” he gasped, shimmying up his Knackerpants, and the hem scraped across an aching arse, “….uhhh,” he added as the coarse velcro material interfered with his erection.
“I waited a while as ordered,” he explained, as his father shifted to µQ, “and then strode back to the Pavilion, where she was waiting. We returned to SIDE STREET, and enjoyed a night of naughty nooky. It continued this morning, as I believe my father’s already outlined.” There was a round of applause. “Thank you, David,” said his Mother, “I think everyone’s agreed he’s been successively Staring At Skirts, so deserves derrière discipline. With one member a whack, it’ll be a nasty nine….plus three for the Thrill Of A Thrashing, as I understand it can now be known….” by kind courtesy of St Bodlians School, from whom he’d borrowed the phrase only a couple of weeks previously, “….bend over, nice and tight. Rotate a right angle after the first three, so everyone can witness your whacks….and then they’ll stroke your stripes.” He did so, whilst his father finished µQ, and began on The Iced Diamond.
Swishhhhthwackkkkk Swishhhhthwackkkkk Swishhhhthwackkkkk
“Yeee..HEEE..EEEE….THREE, thank you, MA’AM,” he yelped, “ohh….ohh….ohh,” he added as his hit hiney was handled, before turning 90°.
Swishhhhthwackkkkk Swishhhhthwackkkkk Swishhhhthwackkkkk
“Yeoww..WOWW..OWWW….SIX, thank you, MA’AM,” he gasped. “Ohh….ohh,” he moaned as his flogged fanny was fondled fetchingly by further floozies, before turning a second time.
Swishhhhthwackkkkk Swishhhhthwackkkkk Swishhhhthwackkkkk
“Yikes..YIKES..YIKES….NINE, thank you, MA’AM….ohh….ohh,” he moaned, turning again.
Swishhhhthwackkkkk Swishhhhthwackkkkk Swishhhhthwackkkkk
“….Yeouch..OUCH..OUCH, thank you, MA’AM,” he gasped, “I know I needed them, for the sin of Staring At Skirts….ohh….ohh….ohh….and a straining shaft.” There was mild mirth. “We should give David a round of applause for his A-Level results,” she said, and he gave a brief bow, being still in the Position. “You may stand, David,” she said, “should anyone wish to meet up with him on a….well, one-to-one basis, do let me before you go home, since he has only limited availability. In addition to spending some time at the Pennance Reformatory, there’s Summer School when he can revisit the rattan. Then it’s his wedding at the end of august, and honeymoon….all to be fitted in before he starts at the University of Lancashire in September….” he smiled sweetly, hoping for a second session with fuckable Fleur Phelps….whose pussy was now being pleased, “….you’ll have to excuse him for now, since he and George have an erotic engagement this evening. Let me undo your handcuffs, David….since George has said he hasn’t done the dessert. He can continue with your cunts, so whilst he’s working hard, I’ll explain to everyone about naked waiter service.”
She released his wrists. “Thank you, Mesdames,” he said, “I look forward to servicing some of you soon….” SLAPP “….ahhh….so sorry.” Stiffly, he padded along the hall into the kitchen. He’d have to peel and prepare the pears, for them to be poached in hot syrup. Should he first of all remove the remaining bondage hardware? No….since the thought of whip-wielding Reformatory Guards watching him work was endearingly erotic.
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