Wedding
Kelly Morgan crossed the car park of The Stern Maiden, hand-in-hand with previous prefect David Shagton. They were here for a romantic dinner, celebrating her sixteenth birthday….with everything it entailed. Specifically, she’d be losing her virginity later in the evening. Then they reached the public house and restaurant. Immediately inside the double doors, they were confronted by a large notice.
Please note – strict sirs session this evening!
customers should be aware how correction
is applied to all guilty girl guests.
Caution – painful posterior punishment beyond this point
Definitely The Old S&M, as she’d heard it called. “Oo..er,” she shivered, “this must mean me?” He nodded. “Yes,” he replied, “unless you’d prefer Harry’s Homemade Hamburgers after all?” She shook her head. “It’s fine, Shagger,” she said as they continued down a long, dimly-lit corridor which rather reminded her of St Sticks, until they reached another notice.
Please wait here for attention
Guests should stand in silence, hands behind head
“It’s like being back at school,” she said without thinking, “oops….so sorry….Sir.”
Your Strict sirs this evening are
Food Jules
Bar Justin
Milkman Sunny Jim
She had her suspicions about what so-called milk might be provided? Most likely it would be cunt cream, rather than anything actually lactated?
Customers who required company may collect their guests on arrival. Please note this facility is only available on a pre-booked basis. For further details, please telephone the office during working hours
Then a waiter strutted towards them. “I strongly suggest you don’t Ogle Obviously Over the Fig-leaf Apron attire, Kelly,” he said. Too late, she simply couldn’t stop herself, since it was a natty number in French Maid style which only just covered the crotch. There was nothing else except matching black high-heeled shoes, although the apron carried a crook cane. His name was stencilled straight across it.
Jules
Do not stare
“Good evening, Sir,” he said, with impeccable courtesy, “and a warm welcome once again to The Stern Master….” it appeared they knew each other? “….as it is this evening. I assume it’s a table for two? She saw Shagger nod neatly, although, ‘no, six….since we like to change seats every few minutes,’ would have been a snappy answer to such a stupid Question. “Yes, please,” he said, “plus a Comfy Customer Cushion.” Whatever THEY were, since The Ice Maiden hadn’t mentioned them. “I hope things went well last time, Sir,” he said, “when I wasn’t on duty as such, but acting as an escort to a lovely Lady on the next table to you and Relay. I couldn’t help noticing the dark-haired damsel called Karen, who cultivated a crisp kind of snappy sexiness….” he shook his head sadly, “….I’d love an hour alone with her in a No Tell hotel….” him and so many other studs, “….if you’d like to follow me?”
He turned….but both back and bottom were bare, apart from the knotted strings. These dangled down daintily, doubling as a black thong. They shifted as he swayed, suggesting the seat was strokeable….a treat for Tarts, but terrible tease. “Nice arse,” she muttered. “I’m afraid such a sexist statement will add one whack onto your bill, Kelly….” said Shagger as they followed the waiter into the main restaurant area, “….plus another for Staring At Seats.” She shuddered slightly. “She was also Ogling Obviously Over the apron, Sir,” he said, “so it’s a thrashing of three already….and counting.” She squeezed his hand. “Guilty as charged,” she said softly as they were conducted across the room to a table by the window. The waiter placed a fluffy cushion onto one chair, and stood back.
She hesitated, not knowing what was expected? Then he shrugged and pulled it forward. “One whack for failure to seat your Strict Sir,” said Shagger, gesturing for her to take the second. “Ohh,” she gasped as she sat down, her rear realizing there were really rough raised ridges, the same as at The Styx. “I’ll be back in a moment, Sir,” he said, her eyes following his fanny as he strutted away. “You really ought to be more careful,” Shagger suggested, “as otherwise it’ll be a really expensive meal.” jules reappeared, and handed them each a menu, “I’ll send over the wine waiter shortly,” he said, and this time she was able to avert her eyes.
“Would you like to open your birthday present?” he asked, “as promised ito you.” She held the small package. “Ohh,” she squealed, after unwrapping it, “a Kali’s Teeth Bracelet. I’ll enjoy humbling our victims in The Humblers on Victim nights….” her mouth curled, “….try it for size. I shall suffer for my sins shortly, so you should do so, too.” He gave a grimace, and took the offending item. “Ahh,” he gasped, after delving down, “I’ll pay in pain for the pleasure of your posterior punishment….” he paused, “….so where were we with the sorry saga of Summer School?” She pursed her lips. “It was Departure Day,” she prompted, “and with it your wedding.” Then Justin arrived. “Did Sir wish to see the Whipmaster Wine menu?” he enquired. “No, thanks,” he said, “I don’t normally touch the stuff, but since it’s my guest’s sixteenth, we’ll have a bottle of house white. Can you be sure it’s sweet, otherwise it might be better in the petrol tank.”
The waiter smiled wryly. “So congratulations are in order, Sir,” he said, “I hope you’ll enjoy welcoming her into adulthood later this evening….” a polite way of putting a poke, “….I’ll bring it across, but drinks are at the bar, as usual.” He strutted away, and she failed dismally to stop herself Staring At Seats. “William Shanks and I had stepped out of dorm 6X,” he said, “when Big Ben had already struck for a quarter past seven….” the main school clock tower, “….for what would almost be the last time….” at least this year, “….and continued along the fourth quadrant of the quadrangle corridor. I noted how Dorm 6Y was completely quiet, which wasn’t surprising since it had been empty all week. All its incumbents would be playing previous prefect, and suitably ensconced in studies.”
“I’m with you this morning, Shagger….” he said, which was better than being with the Woolwich, he reflected wittily at the reference to the building society’s ancient advertising slogan, “….since I’ve been junior swapped to Rat Conman….the complete cretin.” He frowned. “So who was your fearsome fagmaster this week?” he asked. “It’s The Tech Man….” he interrupted, “….Thomas Edison Carson….” he confirmed, as they passed by The Six Zebras, “….although I never knew him at school. He’s a fireman, and moonlights as waiter at The Stern Maiden….”
“Maybe I might meet him here?” she mused. “You already have,” he replied, “since he’s JULES….” ohh, “….it’s my philandering father’s convention for all serving Staff to have work names commencing with the letter J….” as she’d….well, noticed from the notice, “….but the nickname stems from his initials, and also the American inventor.” Oh yes, Mr Edison’s magic lantern, as his Kinetoscope was called….the forerunner of cinema.
“….so who’s The Tech Man’s senior fag, Will?” There was a sudden snigger from behind them. They turned to see Archibald Gutteridge following them, obviously having just emerged from the Dorm 6Z doorway. “It is I, Shagger….” he said as they all reached the Level 6 landing, and started down the stone steps, “….he’s been a fine fearsome fagmaster, and been….well, interrogating me all week….” hardly surprising, since he’d hailed from dorm 6I in Year LXXXIII, and had therefore been one of The Six Interr♂gat♂rs, “….as you’re aware, I fancy floggings from fellas in younger years….” indeed, and he’d been happy to help hit his hiney on a couple of occasions, “….I shall especially enjoy watching your wedding this afternoon, since it’ll enable me to show off my stripes to all and sundry.” As was the way with The Six Zebras, one of the CP Dorms who craved caning at all costs.
“I hope your darling daughter will also be in attendance, Baldy?” he asked, “as we did send you both invitations. Obviously out of politeness we included your Wife, although we did doubt whether she’d be at all interested.” The older man shrugged. “Quite so, Shagger,” he said sadly, “especially when she read the part about it being a Dominatrix do. You know about Thelma being vitriolic vanilla….” one of those prissy people who pursue only plain poking, “….she contended herself with a few choice phrases about public perversion….” fair enough, “….but your dearest Dominetta’s due this morning, since she’s attending Summer School with Richard Sharp for a fortnight. She and your previous prefect peer will be switching, in order to stimulate their small submissive sides with each other. She’ll do Domme for week 6….” so to speak, “….and then he’ll be the Strict Sir for week 7.” Which would work well.
Then Justin reappeared, brandishing two bottles on a platter, and set them down. He opened the first, and offered Shagger a small sample. He took a sip, and sniffed. “As a philistine, it’ll be fine,” he said wryly, as two glasses were poured. “The other bottle’s free,” said the waiter, “since it’s a celebration of sin….with the compliments of the house. It’s Sham Pain Champagne.” He poured another two glasses. “I wouldn’t wish to be ungrateful,” said Shagger, “nor a party pooper….however I hate the stuff. But thanks for the thought, anyway….” she waited whilst the wine waiter departed, “….Bottoms Up.” Which was the official school toast….Chinkk “….Bottoms Up,” she agreed, taking a swig of the fizzy stuff. Yuck….so perhaps he had a point?
She countered with a large gulp from her other glass. Actually it wasn’t at all bad….though her own experience of fine wines was minimal. Certainly she’d not been allowed any at home. “Not too much on an empty stomach,” he cautioned, “but before I continue, you can go and get the drinks. Mine’s a Strict Sir’s Sweet Sherry, but I’m afraid you’re on orange juice….” why, she wondered? “….it’s the local licensing laws….” clearly his apparent mind reading abilities were still working well, “….and you have to be eighteen to order any alcoholic beverages….” but it made no sense at all, since she could safely screw at sixteen? “….I’ll write it down for you, since at times like this, the mind goes to mush.” Surely not, she thought. “It’s quite simple and straightforward, Shagger,” she said, “I’m sure everything will be fine.” She stood stiffly, grateful to be separated from the seat, and strode away. Oops….since in her path across the restaurant, a guilty girl guest was being beaten. Jules was wielding the weapon, and everyone in the vicinity was watching her whacks….Swishhhthwackk “….oww….FUCK….four,” she gasped. “You can let her off the Omission of any affirmation,” said the Customer concerned as she deftly passed by, “and also an Incorrect cut count. However can you kindly add two more strokes onto her bill….one for the Vulgarity in a public place, and secondly for the Omission of suitable salutation. I simply won’t stand for sluts which don’t say Sir.”
There was a surly sniff at this statement. “I’m so sorry….Çur,” she said. “One more for mentally misspelling it, complete with cedilla,” said Jules sternly, at which there was a sudden sob of despair. Her heart thumped, since in around an hour, this would be her own fate.
She closed her ears, and continued towards the bar area, where Justin was waiting with a wide smile. “Hello, handsome,” she said encouragingly, since he really was extremely dishy. “Let’s hope you can do better than Missy,” he said nodding towards the table, “since her hubby Henry’s somewhat strict in such circumstances….” he winked once, “….surprisingly, they’re sixdy-sixdy switches….” six dozen to the gross, or even-steven, “….as I discovered when I was on escort duty last week. He had have half his hits here, but then she sent him downstairs for Coffee Service.” Oo..er, yes please….her mind meandering in the direction of discipline despite her every effort to stop it. “Please,” she said, “I’d like a….err….err….” fuck, her personal demon suggested suddenly as her brain went blank, and she Ogled Obviously Over his Apron attire. Desperately, she stared at the slip of paper Shagger had written, her ears burning.
It’s a Strict Sir’s Sweet Sherry. PS told you so
Wordlessly, she passed it to Justin. “Sir knows best,” he said, sagely, “but it’s something we’ve all experienced….” he poured out an apéritif, “….here’s an orange juice for you.” She smiled….well, sweetly, picked up the glasses and walked away. Apparently all the agonies had been applied, since Henry was helping Missy put on what appeared to be an extremely expensive fur coat. “Until next week….” he said to the waiter, and slipping him another currency note, “….when it’ll be my turn again to take a tanning. I’m hoping it’ll be Jillian, since she’s a vicious vixen….and I’ll admit I fancy her furiously.” He wasn’t the only one, she reflected.
As she continued back to her own table, she recalled Shagger having screwed her in his study one morning. It had been in the Autumn Term of Year LXXXIX, and she arrived slightly late. Mitches had told her how she was required to prepare breakfast for two….whilst they sodding well showered together. But the slut had been seen subsequently, as a Shagger’s Schoolday Sojournee….were it a word? She set down the glasses, before seating herself a second time. He stared at her questioningly, and she hung her head. “All right,” she said sulkily, “you win, and I couldn’t remember a thing. It’s the same as when one’s picked on in class, and have six seconds to think of an answer before your hiney’s hit hard.” He handed her the menu and she leafed through it. What to choose, since everything seemed to be connected with deviance….and Dominance. Dammit, her favourite friend could have furthered some advice about it….although obviously the offerings would be inverted.
Finally she set it down, and Jules was back in an instant. “What would Sir wish?” he asked politely, and ignoring her completely, “there’s a Soup Special this evening of Cock-a-leekie….” always assuming one liked cocks which leaked? “….and the Deviant’s Dish of the Day is Punishment Porkies Pie.” The waiter….well, waited with his pencil poised. “I’ll have Stern Sir’s Steak, well done,” he replied, “with onion rings and cheeky chunky chips. I assume it’s been properly prepared?” He gave an especially evil grin. “All rump is beaten here, Sir,” he confirmed, staring at her in obvious anticipation. “I’ll go for the Cellery Soup,” she said, “followed by Vassal Veal with Vivacious Vixen Veggies.” He ambled away, and she started to stare at him….SLAPP “….ohh,” she gasped as Shagger slapped her soundly. “It’s all for your own good….” he said, suddenly sounding like a schoolteacher….or perhaps her own father before her fanny was flogged? “….anyway, we bade Baldy a fond farewell at Level 2 of the Prefects’ Study wing, since The Tech Man was in study four. Then we continued upstairs.”
“I wasn’t aware it was so serious between Domme and Rick The Prick, Shagger,” he said. “Apparently, yes,” he replied, “and assuming some success in his A-Levels, he’ll be joining her at the University of Aberdeen in a few weeks’ time. It’s turned out nicely, since they’ve lusted after each other for years, but never been able to get it together before now.” A few minutes later, as Big Ben was striking for 7.30am, they reached study ten on Level 4.
Matthew Conran
Quicumque es
“It’s Whoever You Are, Will,” he said, “the same Latin logo as he used before, with touching total disdain for Visitors….and fags. His firm friend opened the door, and they stepped inside without knocking, in accordance with fagging protocol. Their fearsome fagmaster was standing in the centre of the study, wielding the weapon. “Alas I can’t claim you’re not punctual, Shagger,” he said sadly, “and Shanks, too….more’s the pity. But I wanted a little chat with you both, about What’s..Been..Going..On….” oh dear….since he too sounded just like George Smiley, John le Carré’s character in Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy.
This would be the same conversation as one he’d had with their former dorm captain the previous term, in similar circumstances, “….but first of all it’s your SAYM T’GO beatings, so bend over. I needn’t really bother to say Nice And Tight, since the high heels balance the body further forward, enabling an acuter angle of attack….and an aching arse.” They each assumed the Position, standing next to each other. “Wanker Boy Will always possessed a particularly pert and punishable posterior,” he mused, “and I always enjoyed the experience of it being beaten in class. As for sodding Shagger….well, we all know about his neat little bottom, simply Asking for the cane….” so another two dollars for his mythical collection, of when it was complimented, “….they’ll all be in the Summer School staccato style.”
Swishhhthwackkkk Swishhhthwackkkk Swishhhthwackkkk Swishhhthwackkkk
“Yippee..YI..YAY..YEEE,” gasped Iron Will, “FOUR, thank you, SIR. Thank you for my Start-As-You-Mean-To-Go-On beating. I’ll try to be a good fag for you, Sir.” Now it was his turn.
Swishhhthwackkkk Swishhhthwackkkk Swishhhthwackkkk Swishhhthwackkkk
“Yippee..YI..YAY..YEEE,” gasped Iron Will, “FOUR, thank you, SIR. Thank you similarly, Sir. I too will endeavour to be properly proficient in my Domestic Duties this morning, Sir….ohh,” he added as the single stripe was stroked with the stick. “Next, it’s an erection inspection,” said the prefect, “which I’m fairly certain you’ll both fail, so stand up and show me your shafts….” They both arose, and sure enough they were both straining, “….two Stiffie Salutes. Eight inches of erotic enjoyment, and seven of circumcised sin. It’s intensely irritating, as I have to manage with five inches of phallic fun….” although size wasn’t everything, “….on the odd occasion I can find a floozy to fuck it for me….” unbelievable, since at The Styx it was so simple to score, with any amount of….well, layable lovely Ladies, “….bend over again.”
Swishhhthwackkkk Swishhhthwackkkk Swishhhthwackkkk
“Yippee..YI..YEZZ….seven, thank you, SIR,” gasped Iron Will, “I’m so sorry about such a sordid sight, meaning my seat should be swished soundly, Sir.” There was a slight snigger. “As I don’t need to be properly professional in Summer School,” he said, “I shall handle your hineys….and then knacker your nuts next.” They spread their legs. “Ohh….ohh,” he moaned as his fanny was felt, “AHHH….AHHH….AHHH….AHHH….AHHH….AHHH….AYEEEEE….I submit to my Superior, SIR.”
Swishhhthwackkkk Swishhhthwackkkk Swishhhthwackkkk
“Yippee..YI..YEZZ….seven, thank you, SIR. Thank you for the thrashing, I know I needed it, Sir….ohh….ohh….AHHH….AHHH….AHHH….AHHH….AHHH….AHHH….AYEEEEE….I submit, SIR.” Then a piece of paper was handed to him, plus pen.
St Stricktlands School Stretch Slave Sheet for: Matthew Conran
The undersigned hereby humbly undertakes to bare his balls and accept a suitable
stretching at any time and any place by his Master or Mistress. The balls should be bared
completely before the scrotum is stretched.
“Shift in front of Shagger, Shanks,” he said, “so he can use your seat for support.” He signed his name in the next available space….David Shagton. “Now I’ll demand my dues,” he said, gloatingly. “AHHH….AHHH….AHHH….AHHH….AHHH….AHHH….AYEEEEE….I am your stretch slave, SIR.” he gasped. Then they changed places, for Wanker Boy Will to sign similarly. “AHHH….AHHH….AHHH….AHHH….AHHH….AHHH….AYEEEEE….I am your stretch slave, SIR.” he gasped. “Now we can have our talk,” he said ominously, “about a succubus….” oops….exactly as he’d been afraid, “….something which Wanker Boy Will knows all about, since we’ve both been Had and humiliated horribly by such a stunt. I shall ask you Questions, and each time I fail to receive a proper answer, I simply squeeze your scrotums….see?” It was all painfully obvious, literally so. “Yes, Sir,” they replied together. “I know who screwed Shanks,” he said, “being Take A Bow, one of The Flaunts….” indeed so, Tarka Susannah Boughs from dorm 5F….now known simply as Succubus, “….I have an abiding memory of long silky blonde hair, which simply seemed to stream over her smooth shoulders. However although she did the deed, I strongly suspect she wasn’t the actual instigator of the stunt. Would you care to comment, Shagger?”
Perhaps a token show of resistance? “Please, Sir,” he said, “don’t know what you’re talking about….AHHH….AHHH,” he added. “Me neither, Sir….AHHH….AHHH,” put in Iron Will, likewise playing to the gallery. “I’m waiting….” he said, and the, ‘….and I can wait all morning, if necessary, didn’t need to be uttered. It hung in the air, all by itself. “Next time I shan’t stop until you squeal soprano” he snarled, “you’ll take the testicle twist, with your reproductive retort rotated through two right angles….” oo..er, yes, SIR, “….and in the event of failure, there’s always the terrible type….with a total turn.” Oops. “It was Shagger’s stunt, Sir,” said William Shanks, quickly. “I admit it, Sir,” he confirmed.
“So how was I knocked out so easily and effectively, Shagger?” he asked. “It should stay completely confidential, Sir,” he said, “in order to protect the guilty….AHHH….me balls….AYEEEEE..HEEE..HEEE..EEEE..EEEE.” Clearly, he’d missed his vocation as an SS Officer. “Anything to say, Shanks?” he enquired, genially. “AHHH….AHHH….AYEEEEE..EEEE..EEEE….I’ll talk, Sir….huhh….when they did me, Shagger slipped into my study and put a phial of Chloral Hydrate into my glass of water….” the one which he kept by his bed, “….but I’ve no idea about you.” There was a short silence. “We’re making progress, of sorts,” he said, “so was it a case of trespass, in my absence?” Into The Rat hole, as his study had almost universally been known….by everyone except its owner. “No, Sir,” he replied, “EEEE..EEEE..EEEE..EEEE….honestly I didn’t. It was your date which did the dastardly deed. You may recall her mentioning some sort of celebratory toast….EEEE..EEEE….AYEEEEE,” he added.
“BASTARD,” he shouted, “so you had Very Nice in on the stunt….and I never did get to do her, sod you, Shagger….” although he did have Succubus as a substitute screw, in place of Verity Gneiss, “….what happened about my Sex Thrashing? It gave me the willies for weeks, wondering whether I’d end up Rusticated, the same as Shanks.” No problem. “I understand it’s a point of honour, Sir,” said Iron Will, “whereby the perpetrator pays for the privilege in posterior pain. I know Shagger suffered swishing for my stunt, so I assume he was your whipping boy as well.” There was a slight sniff.
“Which is,” he said, “a real relief. I was in two minds whether to sign up for Summer School, on the basis I might suddenly find myself playing In The Pink without the option. But this at least sets it to rest….” he paused, “….you can both stand….” they did so, “….Shanks can start my breakfast, for which there’s a unisex slave apron in the kitchenette. Sodding Shagger can clean the shower, since it will keep him humble….” something Sexy Sammy had always claimed….screw her slit, “….then he can provide naked waiter service. Anything less than perfect will mean plenty of posterior pain. As you’re aware, I won’t be applying your Farewell Foursomes….at least, not now.” Which sounded ominous.
“He swished me soundly for so-called shoddy and substandard service,” he said sourly, “and I accumulated a dozen due in all before he was finished. Finally we were dismissed, and went down to breakfast. Inevitably it included several slave stretchings, plus a number of new knackerings and sheets signed. Then it was the final assembly at half past nine, as advertised on Monday. The Reverend Kathryn Castalian did the devotions, including Amen Carmen’s favourite hymn….” Thrash Me Throughly, which the Reverend Carmen Jones was wont to use regularly, “….then Thrasher Thring stood up.”
“This concludes week 5 of Summer School,” said The Professor, “and for those of you leaving us now, I look forward to meeting you all again. Following another recent Deposition by Shagger….” several sniggers from the prefects, “….regarding Same Sex Fagging, Year XC at The Styx will see the rules changed. It will then be possible for sinful sluts to be allocated to fearsome fagmasters….and similarly studs to frightful fagmistresses. He properly pointed out how this was already the case during Fagswaps….and how his own experiences with Samantha Terrier during Year LXXXVIII had done his hiney no harm….” girlish giggles,
“Not to mention mine, the following year,” she interjected, darkly. “We’ve already agreed how you asked to be my junior fag,” he said, “stating you should be sent out of my study with a suitably stinging and sore seat….so I have NO sympathy.” She shifted slightly, as many memories of past posterior pain flashed across her brain.
“….at least, not permanently….” more mirth, “….so many more options are now open. But for now, it only remains to apply Farewell Foursomes to all the pupils playing In The Pink. They will be followed by erection inspections, so those sinful scholars with a straining shaft or naughty nipples will receive another three for the Thrill Of A Thrashing. Discipline will be dished by dorm, and no cane count or contrition is required. As always we will start with the studs. Afterwards, they should file off into the Undercroft. Then they should return to dorm in order to complete packing, dress and say their goodbyes. Maidenly Modesty dictates they will be unable to watch the whacks for the pupils-with-pussy….” as always, it appeared, “….we will commence with dorm 6Z. I expect The Six Zebras will enjoy showing off their stripes.” Ha bloody ha, but absolutely accurate, as indeed Baldy had said.
“So they stood in a line,” he said, “and were all swished soundly by a pretty prefect called Annette Villiers, an émigrée of dorm 6S. Anvil was particularly pleased to punish Baldy, since she bore him a grudge. As he was a year older than her, he’d been a prefect when she was one of The Six Sneaks in Year LXII. She hadn’t expected ever to wreak her revenge, but this is what happens at Summer School….” so Never Say Never At The Styx, as the unwritten rule stated, “….then they stood up simultaneously and strutted their stuff. Following their further floggings, they filed off the Podium, and next it was our turn.”
“As there are no candidates from The Six Reas♂ns Y♂u’re F♂r It,” he said, “next up will be dorm 6X. I am sure The Six X-Hibiti♂nists will wish to provide us with pulsing penises….” Wodin Tiberius Thring definitely did the jokes much better than Iain Terrance Hayter’s dreadfully dull and disinterested delivery. “….theirs will be administered by Matt Conran, or rather Rat Conman….” in accordance with the malicious malapropism, “….of the six nasties during Year LXXXVIII.” Now he understood his previous cryptic comment about, ‘for now,’ since it was simply punishment postponed.
“I was last in line,” he said, “so when my Farewell Foursome was concluded, we stood and showed our six Stiffie Salutes….an exhibitionist’s paradise. Next it was our further flogging, and finally we decamped down the spiral steps into the Undercroft. Then we made our way back to dorm, all of us in the classic canees’ gait of guilt….” Look At Me, I’ve Just Been Caned, and one with which she was very familiar….especially after leaving his study, just as he’d claimed, “….where we wished each other well. We shook each others’ shafts, as on Arrival Afternoon, and those who were leaving dressed in their ordinary pink uniforms, complete with Knackerpants. I also confirmed all my dorm mates would be welcome to attend the wedding service. However, apart from Wanker Boy Will and Nolan-Noakes….already invited to the Reception, everyone else had to be away. After having packed my pink bag, I popped next door to say goodbye to all my cunt Casanova colleagues.”
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