Succubus Start Part (3) of (4)

 The Green Goddess giggled. “Talking of patronage, darling,” she said deliberately, “I have heard a rumour to the effect of your protégé following in your footsteps next year?” He nodded. “Quite so, darling,” he agreed, “except Harry Herbert hopes to have a ménage-à-quatre….with Mitches And Ritches The Bitches, plus Racy Tracy. They should keep him busy bonking.” Shirley Cirrus smiled. “Rat never mentioned his experiences with the noble knight, Shagger,” she said, “which I suppose is hardly a surprise.” He nodded. “Indeed,” he agreed, “since he successfully scuppered any chance of an appeal against his offer. Apparently it was three grade A’s….as opposed to our three E’s.” Which hopefully he’d achieve, although the outcome was still much too close to call. He really didn’t want to think about it too closely, however he reckoned he’d done all right this afternoon. 

    

“Anyway,” he said, “enough talk, since it’s high time we got started with some swishing. Your bottom’s bared, so bend over for your SAYM T’GO beating. It’ll be a special treat for Strutter, although he’ll pay for his pleasure with pain. There’s no way he’ll pass an erection inspection after watching your whacks.” True enough, as she assumed the Position. “A particularly pert posterior, Sir,” he suggested. All right, it WAS much more humiliating to be whacked whilst younger years watched. 

 

Swishhhhthwackkkk 

“One, thank you, Sir,” she said woodenly, whilst claiming canees’ privilege. It was an effort, since her hit and hot hiney hurt. “I can see it was six of the best from Terrence,” he said, “but what was the reason for the rattan?” Then the junior fag stared into her eyes. In addition to PWEP, it was also Schadenfreude, the Enjoyment Of Another’s Misfortune. This was something with which St Severes had suffered in spades. 

 

Swishhhhthwackkkk 

“Ooo….two, thank you, Sir,” she gasped. “Please, Sir,” she said, “as a Bi Babe, I enjoy giving guilty girls a good grope on the groin. However, I shouldn’t do so when working, since it’s not properly professional. So it was some six strokes for Touching Tarts’ Twats, Sir.” 

 

Swishhhhthwackkkk 

“Yeee….three, thank you, Sir,” she yelped. “I hope it helped,” he suggested sourly. “Certainly, Sir,” she agreed, “derrière discipline definitely does, Sir.” Would he stop at the penultimate stroke? “Did you obtain any A-Levels at all….?” he asked conversationally, so clearly the answer was in the affirmative, “….although I wouldn’t have thought you needed any, with Waitress work?” Thanks a bunch. “Yes, Sir,” she replied, “I’ve five grade A’s.” 

 

“To which you told Terrence,” he said, “and he alluded the following morning in assembly. Obviously I’m impressed, since you’re clearly a clever cookie.” So, he reflected as she promptly preened herself, was Daphne Saffron, who’d apparently achieved four grade A’s. 

  

“You can think yourself lucky I won’t add a whack for being such a sodding smart arse,” he said sourly, “anyway, I’ll give you the coup de grâce.” 

  

Swishhhhthwackkkk 

“Yikes….four, thank you, Sir,” she gasped, “thank you for swishing me so soundly, Sir. I’ll try to be a good fag for you, Sir.” He put down the cane. “On second thoughts,” he said, “Strutter can start on my dinner, and he’ll have to wait for his whacks. As for you, Cirrus….it’s an exercise in shower cleaning. If nothing else it will teach you humility, so I want it spotless.” 

 

“He kept me working until after five o’clock,” she said, “so Harry and Daffy were waiting outside when I was finally dismissed for the day. H₂O escorted us down to The Canteen, which was as well, since I’d never have found it unaided. We had dinner together, and compared notes. Afterwards, he took Daffy back to the Prefects’ Study wing, and let her find her own way back to your study from the entrance hall. Then he gave me a grand tour of St Sticks. First he showed me round the Original Teaching wing, which I found fairly fascinating. The Box Room was something else again, and I’d have enjoyed a go, given more time. Then we went upstairs, and he showed me what was happening in Room 20.”

 

“Oo..er….” she said, as they peered around through the door of the Retentorum, “….we had some of those deliciously dated Detention desks at St Severes.” There were around a dozen detainees, whose bottoms were bared, and several sported stripes. None were wearing jackets, only some sort of short pink shirt which appeared to be cut away at the back just below the shoulder blade. “It’s a Prefects’ VD class,” he explained, “for such submissive souls as are still suffering from withdrawal symptoms….” he sniggered softly, “….it means Voluntary Detention, and nothing connected with nasty diseases.”  

  

Nice to know. “I’m revisiting the rattan, Harry….” which why she was here, “….I’d enjoy sitting on one of those single slats, with my posterior protruding proudly for punishment purposes.” He shrugged, opened the door, and stepped inside….pulling her along afterwards despite protestations. “Please, Sir,” he said to the teacher, “I’m so sorry to interrupt, but I’m officially showing this sinful specimen around, since she’s a Schoolday Sojourn. She’s expressed an interest in the Detention Desks, and wondered whether she might do a dozen Lines?” Not quite, but pretty close, and the teacher smiled, “Most certainly, Orwell,” he replied, clearly knowing his name, “we’ve some space this evening, so take a seat at the front….both of you….” oops, “….baring your bottoms for….well, regular beating….” she saw H₂O’s lips curl, so presumably it was some sort of in-joke? “….here’s a sheet each. He can write: No good turn goes unpunished….” fair enough, “….whereas you can do: Curiosity killed the cat, or translate it, if you’re a Latin Lass....” he removed his pink Knackerpants, whilst she set down her overnight bag. 

 

 

Then she lowered her Spanking Shorts, and eyed up an errant erection. Quite obviously it was some seven inches of circumcised sin, something she’d really rather relish inside her. They took their places, and it was exactly as she remembered. Her hiney was highly hittable, and very vulnerable, “....since you may become conversant with corporal correction....” she’d have been shocked if not, “....during my VD classes, there’s no need for a cut count, or any affirmation. However, there should still be contrition at the close.” Nice to know, as she inspected the sheet. Then she glanced across at her guide’s for help with its completion. 

 

St Stricktlands 

Putting the oo back into school 

 

Use for one dozen Lines, and add continuation sheets as necessary. Ensure this and all others are correctly identified and totalled. Care should be taken to see there are no errors or omissions in your work. Any such sheet will be rendered Inadmissible, and the appropriate penalty applied. In particular the placement and positioning of all apostrophes must be chosen with extreme care. The intermediate spacing should only be used for long Lines. Credit will be given for neat and orderly work. 

 

Scholar name:  Orwell, Harry Herbert Set by: Mr Reginald Beesting 

Scholar dorm:  6W   Supervisor (if applicable): Mr Reginald Beesting 

 

So there was the joke, as she wrote in the teacher’s name on her own sheet. “I see you’ve detailed dorm 6B….Cirrus,” he said, looking over her shoulder, “does this mean you’re a bit of a Bi Babe?” She nodded. “Yes, Sir,” she confirmed. “I don’t recognise your uniform, guilty girl,” he said. “Please, Sir,” she replied, “it’s from St Severus of Sevenoaks, Sir.” Then she started to write her first Line. 

 

1. Curiositus occidit cattus       

 

Swishhhhthwackkkkk “….Oww,” she gasped….Swishhhhthwackkkkk “….Oww,” she gasped, “why the whacks?” She saw Harry Herbert Orwell shake his head sadly, as he continued writing. “The first word is spelled A-S,” he replied, “so maybe you shouldn’t have been such a smart-arse, and simply written in English....?” perhaps he had a point? “….which was the reason for the second stroke, since YOU didn’t….omitting the full stop….” so the clairvoyance course had been worth every new pound? “….however you’re now down for two more, for a caneable Question, and the Omission of some suitable salutation.” Swishhhhthwackkkkk “….Oww,” she gasped….Swishhhhthwackkkkk “….Oww….” she repeated, “….ohh,” she added as he took the sheet and tore it in half. Then he handed her another blank. “Not exactly a sound start, Cirrus,” he said, “so you’ve plenty of room for improvement.” 

 

“So I worked away,” she said, “grateful it wasn’t eight dozen, which is the minimum at St Severes. Sometimes they’d set a gross, which was impossible….” he nodded, knowingly, “….then I thought it was high time Harry suffered some stick, too.”  

 He’d been the perfect guide, hadn’t put a foot wrong all evening, so the simplest solution was to Shop him for something he hadn’t done. He couldn’t have Spied or Strayed Up Skirts, since she wasn’t wearing one, so what was left? Yes….the answer was obvious, so she gave it a minute, and then raised her hand. “What is it, Cirrus?” asked the teacher. “Please, Sir,” she replied, “Orwell’s just Languished Along Lovely Legs.” He was back at their bench almost at once. “Is this true, Orwell?” he asked. “Yes, Sir,” he replied, perjuring himself. At St Severes, the dose of discipline was doubled for a denial. She supposed it was the same at St Sticks? 

 

“Quite so,” agreed The Green Goddess, “there’s many a time I’ve Shopped someone in similar circumstances.” He nodded. “Yes indeed, darling,” he said, “and I’ve suffered some stick to prove the postulate. However, I still love you.” She mouthed him a quick kiss. 

    

Swishhhhthwackkkkk “….Oww…. Swishhhhthwackkkkk “….Oww…. Swishhhhthwackkkkk “….Oww….thank you, Sir. I do deserve discipline for the idea of Indecent Intent. It was all manner of Inappropriate thoughts about what’s up Cirrus’ skirt, Sir.” Had he indeed? 

  

“For which he had one more whack,” she said, “but as you’d expect, he finished first, and raised his hand.” 

 

“What is it, Orwell?” he asked, “I hope you’re not claiming this innocent young Lady was doing anything untoward?” He shook his head. “No, Sir,” he replied, “I’ve finished, Sir.” She glanced across, and sure enough he’d done so.” The teacher approached at once. 

 

2. No good turn goes unpunished.  

Sheet (1) of (1) 

“Good show,” said Regular Beating, “Cirrus isn’t far behind. There’s just your Closure Canings, and then you can continue with your tour. Would you like the whacks where you are….or in the Position, Orwell?” He shivered slightly. “Please Sir,” he replied, in a slightly strangled tone, “I’d like to stay seated….but feel free to add further flogging for the usual reason.” The teacher smiled. “As you know,” he said, “I’m always highly happy to hit your hiney, since it’s so much like Shagger’s. But I’ve heard a rumour you’re really related….is this the case?” He nodded. “Yes, Sir,” he replied, “it seems we’re third cousins, which I suppose is why our neat little bottoms are similar.” Swishhhhthwackkkkk “….Oww,” he gasped….Swishhhhthwackkkkk “….Oww….” Swishhhhthwackkkkk “….Oww….” Swishhhhthwackkkkk “….Oww,” Swishhhhthwackkkkk “….Oww….” Swishhhhthwackkkkk “….Oww….I’ve Been Bothered By Beating, and deserved due derrière discipline, Sir.” Then she too finished her sheet. 

 

3. Curiositas occidit cattus.       

Sheet (1) of (1) 

“I know I was a Cocky Little Blighter, Sir,” he said, “waltzing into a Prefects’ VD Class without so much as a by-your-leave. I should certainly suffer some Superiority swishing, Sir.” Swishhhhthwackkkkk “….Oww….” Swishhhhthwackkkkk “….Oww….thank you so much, Sir.” 

 

“As per the packing on Parkers’ posterior punishment products,” he said sourly. 

 

“Now it’s your turn, guilty girl,” he said, “is your raw rear ready for more rattan?” Obviously. “Yes, Sir,” she said, “and I too desire my derrière discipline at the desk.” He nodded, knowingly. “Nearly all detainees do for these classes,” he said agreeably, “somehow I suppose it seems sexier….” got it in one, “….the only thing you’ve managed to miss out on is Orwell’s Short Shirts, which all our other fine felons are almost wearing….” she glanced around the room for the first time. Sure enough, she could saw the shirts were specially shaped, sewn and seamed to remove much of the material. 

 

The collar was unchanged, and a three wide inch tongue carried the buttons. Likewise it allowed the year colour to be carried conventionally, “….for sinful sluts, an added advantage is it also enables an instant naughty nipple inspection….” oops, “….since a beautiful boob is proudly presented in place of a pocket.” She shrugged. “I’m afraid I’d fail, Sir,” she said sadly, whilst massaging her mammaries, “so I need them in any event.” Swishhhhthwackkkkk “….Oww,” she gasped….Swishhhhthwackkkkk “….Oww….” Swishhhhthwackkkkk “….Oww….” Swishhhhthwackkkkk “….Oww….” Swishhhhthwackkkkk “….Oww….” Swishhhhthwackkkkk “….Oww….thank you for my Lines and Detention, it really brought back so many memories, Sir.” He gestured for them to arise. “Stand up and sort yourselves out,” he said. 

 

“Which we duly did,” she said, “since time was passing. In a way I was sorry Daffy couldn’t have enjoyed the erotic experience, but she was somewhere with you, Sir.” He smiled. “We spent much more time in The Box Room,” he confirmed, “and only reached Room 20 after the VD Class had been concluded. However, I was still able to give her an impromptu Detention, with lots of Lines, so rest assured she didn’t miss out. But did Harry get to screw you? I suggested he might try his luck when you were changing.” She nodded, wryly. 

 

“This is the Medical wing,” he announced gravely, “which is also Kristina Russia’s domain. She’s a rampant rampallion, whose idea of dealing with a headache is to administer six of the best. Her bedside manner’s less like Florence Nightingale, and more Comrade Colonel Rosa Klebb….” so From Russia Without Love, as she recalled the pages of Ian Fleming. Then they continued up a single flight of stone steps to Level 1, “….this is Dorm U….one of the two missing letters in the Dorm wings. It’s known as taking Umbrage….which is what she does when anyone’s ill enough to need it. The second of which is Dorm Q….as you can see, it’s called Quivis….well, you must know why?”  

 

She nodded as they entered inside. “Any You Please,” she agreed. “I wonder whether this would be a good time for you to change into your St Sticks’ uniform,” he suggested, “I’ll turn my back if you’re shy.” Chance would be a fine thing. “Don’t be daft,” she replied, “you’ve already seen everything I havet….with the exception of both beautiful boobs….” she paused, “….why did Regular Beating say they were your Short Shirts, Harry?” He grinned. “It’s because I invented them, Shirley,” he replied, “and they’ve only been introduced officially this term.” So a pupil of many parts? 

 

 “Impressive,” she agreed, “but I tell you what….how about it if we BOTH shed our clothes, and then we’re even-steven?” He nodded, as they both started to strip. Very soon they were both starkers, with two neat piles of clothes. “Can you think of anything we might do now, Harry?” she asked leadingly, “given you were thinking all sorts of unworthy thoughts during Detention?” He nodded, and his shaft strained. “Perhaps I might start by pleasing pussy?” he suggested. Very reasonable, so he certainly wasn’t a Wham-Bam-Thank-You-Ma’am, man.” 

  

“He’s a Cunt Casanova,” said Shirley Greene, “the same as Shagger….and it shows. How many cums did he give you?” Surely Serious smiled, and stroked her skirt where she shouldn’t. “It was eight,” she admitted, “and he was GOOD. I enjoy it immensely when a tongue’s taken to my twat, since it really gets me going….although the guilty girls usually have the edge. But the room was already revolving, and we still hadn’t screwed. So I had to beg him to put me out of my misery.”  

 

“Uhhhh….Harry,” she moaned, “fuck my fancy furiously for me….” he stopped his wicked work, and shifted position, “….UHHH….UHHH….” she was so wet, his straining shaft simply slithered inside her slit, “….hump me HARD, Harry,” she begged, “UHHH….UHHH….yes....” surely she could hear celestial cymbals? “….YESS….YESS….YESS.” He waited for several seconds. “Mmmm,” she moaned as he kissed her. “Now it’s your turn,” she said, as soon as they’d separated, “I want to see some semen….or rather inside me, where it belongs.” He nodded. “Most certainly, Shirley,” he said, “here it…well, cums….” SMACKK “….Oww….” SMACKK “….Oww,” he gasped, “Very fucking funny,” she growled, as she held his hit hiney hard. 

 

 Indeed a neat little bottom, just as Reginald Beesting had claimed. “UHHH….UHHH….UHHH….UHHH….UHHH,” he moaned. “Harder, Harry,” she urged, “pretend I’m a professional prostitute, of no account apart from your personal penile pleasure.” He smiled slightly, so had he had any experience of such sinful souls? “UHHH….UHHH….UHHH….I’m spurting….” his mouth opened in obvious orgasm, “….YESS….UHHH….YESS….UHHH….YESS.” He’d given her the gun, and she could hear his heart beating. Slowly it slowed, he raised his rear and a soft shaft slipped out. “Pardon my asking?” she said, “but have you ever humped a Hooker, Harry?” He nodded. “Yes,” he confirmed, “however, I wasn’t a paying punter. It was one Primula Proffer, who’s starting at St Sticks tomorrow as a Latin teacher.” Really? 

 

“As you found out the following morning, during assembly,” he said, “when Terrence introduced her….with you and Daffy.” She nodded. “It was somewhat of a shock to discover she’d a First Class honours degree in the discipline from Temple College, Cambridge,” she agreed, “somehow, it put my A-Levels into perspective. But anyway, we mopped ourselves down, and then he asked me about his Sex Thrashing.”

 

“Could you kindly confirm your cunt currency, Shirley?” he asked, “since I should still be swished for the screw.” She pursed her lips, “It’s a straight eight,” she replied, “since I don’t like to sell myself too cheaply….so to speak. But we haven’t a cane, and anyway you’ve already received the rattan during your Detention.” He shrugged. “There’s no way I’m not taking a Caning For Cunt,” he said, “since it would simply return to bite me at a later time. I’d end up with rustication, which happened to Shagger last autumn. Although he was entirely innocent of the charge, he had a week of hell as a result. So I’ll Take It On Trust, and report to Kristina Russia tomorrow morning. Then it’ll be in her Black Book, and I’m fireproof.”  

 

“He’s right to be wary,” he said, “since Iron Will’s going to be rusticated after our A-Levels….” Shirley Greene stared at him, “….last year, during the Terror Twins’ General Studies project….” he smiled, “….The ATM…. Alternative Torture Mechanisms, Apparatus Treating Masturbation, or Automatically Tormenting Males. Anyway, his tool took twats, although he’d been told it was a Fisherman’s Friend. Terrence beat the information out of me, basically because he wanted to give him the whacks again before he left school. He thought William Shanks a Cocky Little Blighter who should be shown some Superiority….” thou too, Brutus, “….so time will tell, and watch this space.”

 

The Green Goddess grinned. “Will he be fagging, darling….?” he nodded, “….I’ll offer my services as frightful fagmistress, since he’s a Dominant dolt. I could make week a misery, being horribly humbled and humiliated at my hands….and heels.” When captured, don’t let them give you to the lovely Ladies. “You should suggest it to Sue Sweet,” he said absently. “Anyway,”  said Shirley Cirrus, “we continued the tour, and ended up back at the Senior Dorms wing. I enjoyed being a voluntary victim with The Six Lezzies….” she winked once, “….you really HAVE made a hit with The Connor Twins. They’re both a bit butch, but apparently were quite taken with your tongue to their twats. It’s quite an honour….and talking of Owen….” as in Honour, “….I was shocked when On Her Own made mention of a session with her in your study. Getting lovely Lezzies on side as Bi Babes is pretty impressive, by any yardstick.”

  

He glanced up at the clock, and saw it was 8.29pm. “I’ll be back soonest, Mesdemoiselles,” he said, as he slipped off his shower robe and hung it up. “Is there any special reason you’re going starkers, Shagger?” asked Shirley Cirrus as he took out the Yale key. “None at all,” he admitted cheerfully, “I suppose it’s simply an example of incorrigible exhibitionism. I rather like wandering around the school completely unclothed.” Then he padded out of the study. The time has come, he reflected as he proceeded briskly, to think of many things. Of shoes and ships and sealing wax, and cabbages and kings.  

 

Big Ben was striking for 8.30pm as he opened the broom cupboard door again, and stepped inside. The journey would again be much quicker, since Poke Her’s study was sited directly beneath his own, four levels down. Indeed these keys had originally been made available to everyone in end-of-corridor studies, to make matters more convenient. The words of Lewis Carroll continued to flit across his brain as he negotiated the secret spiral steps. And why the sea is boiling hot, and whether pigs have wings.  

 

He reached the Level 2 broom cupboard, the sensors did their stuff, and cautiously he opened the door. It was empty, so he padded into the corridor, placing the Yale key in the lock for later. It would be a nine-day wonder if anyone checked or commented in the interim. In his experience, these locked cupboards were way below the event horizon of collective consciousness. From there, it was but a few silent steps to his destination...

 

229 – part (2) of (4)

Succubus Start

Several minutes later, the door opened and The Pirate emerged, clutching her jug. “Success in every packet, Sir,” she said, continuing to the kitchenette. “Tell me how it went whilst you serve my meal, Kelly,” he said, “you have permission to speak freely, without whacks.” She nodded. “He’s a suspicious sod….Shagger….” she said, clearly relishing her new-found freedom, as she brought him some soup, “….and clearly a complete cretin.”

 

She stood outside his study door and inspected it carefully. 

Lionel Disraeli-Greys 

Nihil discere possis sine dexteritate 

Being a German Gretchen, she’d not the slightest idea what the Latin logo meant. She recalled 3M was as well, so there was no point in asking her, either. Shagger was the same, having been a garçon. Obviously though, she wouldn’t want the whack in the first place, either for ignorance, impudence or cheek. 

 

“We’ll ask Sukey later,” he said absently, “since she’s a Latin Lass.” On reflection, Cully too learned Latin....at least he had last year. He wasn’t sure which other A-Levels he was taking.  

 

She knocked, and waited. “Entarrrr,” called out a villain’s voice, and a tingle travelled down her torso before terminating in her twat. It wasn’t even as if she were about to be beaten....although it wasn’t an impossibility. She opened the door and stepped inside to find his two fags working hard, with the prefect sitting at his settee. “What do you want?” he asked without any enthusiasm. “Please, Sir,” she replied, brandishing the empty jug, “I wonder if I might ask the favour of some milk.” Hopefully, she’d kept it in the conditional? 

 

“This may be a silly question,” he asked, “but why are you fagging, since you’re a Brownie Babe. Were you a new nix this year?” New knickers were normally so sentenced. “No, Sir,” she replied politely, “it was simply one of those pesky administrative errors, Sir. But such mistakes are never corrected, as you know....so I was stuck with it for the second year running.” Complete cods, but it sounded convincing enough. “Who’s your pretty prefect?” he asked. “Please, Sir,” she repeated, it’s David Shagton, Sir.”  

 

There was a muffled explosion. “Sodding Shagger,” he snarled, “so you can tell him to sod off.” Exactly as expected. “Please, Sir,” she whined, “I’m at my wits’ end, since nobody’s been able to help. He said I needed some sort of incentive to try harder, and how hitting my hiney might help....” she paused, “....and how he’d double the dose if I failed again, since he enjoyed dishing my discipline....” 

 

“I don’t remember saying anything about doubling the dose, Kelly....” he said, as she removed his empty plate, and replaced it with his main meal, “....but since you seem to want it, I’ll bear in mind for another time.” She winked once as she returned to the kitchenette. 

 

“....I can show you my stripes, so you can see for yourself, Sir.” He grunted, and waved at her. Inevitably, both his fags were suddenly interested, so she brazenly bent down, with her fanny facing them, and flipped up her pleasingly pleated brown skirt. Then she shimmied down her naughty knickers, teasingly and tantalizingly. “Ohh,” moaned both his fags. “One whack onto each of your beat sheets for Leching Longingly Like Losers,” he said, reaching for his clip board, “however I agree with you about the whacks. It seems six serious stripes, so sodding Shagger was being beastly....the bastard. Still, it’s not my problem, and the best of British luck elsewhere.”  

 

Thus onto the next tack. “Please, Sir,” she said as she wiggled her waist, “....I’m really desperate, Sir. Perhaps I might suggest a quid pro quo, and attend your study after Prep....when we could get to know each other a bit better....” the last chance saloon, “....in a sort of social setting, Sir. As you said, I’m but a Brownie Babe, but I could....well, still show you some sordid stuff. I’ve some special Happy Hooker hosiery, which is really VERY revealing. I could also always give you a private demonstration of how Sir’s Wanko Whacks For Cute Cunt Classes work....on the assumption you’ve not attended.”  

 

There was a short silence. “All right,” he said, “it’s a deal. I’ve always been interested in them, although there’s no way I’d lower myself to actually take part. However, you should still be swished for Soliciting so shamelessly....” sodding typical....” with a whack for the Vulgarity....” whatever else, his apparent mind reading abilities were spot on, “....and one for Incitement, too.” He picked up his cane, stood up, and flexed it between his fingers.    

Swishhhthwackkkk 

“One, thank you, Sir,” she said flatly, although claiming canees’ privilege with an already aching arse was an effort. 

Swishhhthwackkkk 

“Ooh….two, thank you, Sir,” she gasped, hoping it would sound sexy? Might she be an OO girl, she always wondered at these times? Or even an AH girl? Time would tell. 

 

“My thoughts entirely,” he agreed absently, as he finished his food, “what’s for dessert?” She emerged again, “It’s apple pie with cream, Sir,” she said, exchanging the plates. “I won’t worry with coffee, Kelly,” he confirmed, “just get busy with the washing up.”   

 

Swishhhthwackkkk 

“Yeee….three, thank you so much, Sir,” she said humbly, “thank you for my dished derrière discipline, Sir. I know it was all duly deserved, Sir.” There was a soft snigger. “I never thought I’d agree with sodding Shagger about anything,” he said, “but I too enjoyed punishing your pert little posterior. Stand up and sort yourself out....” slowly, she arose, “....ahhh,” she gasped as her hem scraped a second time, “....Sidney, give the gal some milk, and make sure it isn’t rancid, Rancid....” 

 

“Ha bloody ha,” he said, “it being Sidney Rance’s nickname, as you might imagine. But he’s one of Lionel’s successors in The Six Nasties, as I know very well to my cost, from during my week of rustication last autumn.” 

 

“....I look forward to later....” he stared at his two fags, “....wassamatter, lads? If you fancy the floozy, you’ll have every opportunity to do the dirty deed. Sidney will be a prefect next year, and at some stage she’ll turn sweet sixteen. As for Band Aid, he’ll have the chance to wheedle his willy into the wicked wench when she’s a prefect in her turn, and he’s a pupil In The Pink. I state the matter about copulating cute cunt correctly?”  

 

She smiled, and stroked herself where she shouldn’t, although the likelyhood was low. She wasn’t especially enanmoured with either of them any more than him at the outset, and there were plenty more fish to fry....or rather penises to poke. “Yes, Sir,” she said instead, accepting the hastily filled jug, and retreated gratefully out of the room. All part of the service, Sir, she told herself as she returned to Shagger’s study. 

 

“I can confirm his junior fag was one Adrian Bounden,” he said, “having been lined up with him one fine morning during the Summer Term of Year LXXXVIII to Explain ourselves to Terrence....” it had, he recalled, been his very first D-Day, or Ditches Day, “....when he was one of The N♂-n♂s in dorm 2N. I assume he’s now in dorm 3N, as one of The Little Nuisances. I wasn’t terribly taken with him at the time either, but it’s usually the case with anyone in the N series. However, his elder Sister’s something else again....” across the room, Mitchell Mary Murphy sniggered sofftly, “....you had something to say, Mitches?”  

 

She smiled. “Yes, Sir,” she said, “Gabrielle....my peer-with-pussy In The Pink. She’s one of The Six Lezzies next door to me. Although as Sir is well aware, Gay Abandon’s actually a Bi Babe....having featured in Sir’s Calendar before now.” Which too was totally true, and he’d enjoyed his Bi-some threesome with both her and Josephine French. Not Tonight Josephine was captain of dorm 6L, and likewise bisexual. “Thank you, Kelly,” he said, as he mopped his mouth, “you’ve done well.”  

 

He stood up, padded across to the bed, and slipped off his black shower robe. “You may as well wear this,” he said, handing it to her, “since it will provide some semblance of authority.” He lay down. “You can sodding well put The pillow Punishment Points of pain across the bed….Shagger,” she said, “which will provide some penile pain in addition to your posterior punishment. I ended up with a nasty nine, simply to set up your sodding succubus stunt, so you should suffer similarly. How much is the Caning For Cunt?” He shivered slightly. “AHHH….” he gasped as he placed the pressure pad of pure pain into position over his penis, “…..it’s simply Six For Sex, Ma’am.” She sniffed. “Cheap at the sodding price, Shagger,” she said, “we’ll start with two sets of staccato strokes, in pairs.”

 

SWISHHHTHWACKKKK    SWISHHHTHWACKKKK

“OOOO..HOOO….TWO, thank you, MA’AM....” he gasped at their expert application, “….AHHH,” he added as the small semi-sharp spikes at ⅛ inch intervals punctured his penis. Having taught her how to wield the weapon himself, her efforts could hardly be otherwise. The second strike landed on the same spot. However, Sex Thrashing ones were worse, since they struck straight downwards. “I hope it hurts horribly, Shagger,” she said, savagely. “You may rest assured of it, Ma’am,” he said, humbly.

SWISHHHTHWACKKKK    SWISHHHTHWACKKKK

“YI..HI….FOUR, thank you, MA’AM....AHHH….AHHH….” he gasped with one of the Hurting Hellos, as his straining shaft suffered for his sins, “….ohh….ohh….AHHH,” he added as she stroked his searing stripes with the stick, whilst wiggling his waist.

SWISHHHTHWACKKKK    SWISHHHTHWACKKKK

“Yayy..HEYY….SIX, thank you, MA’AM....AHHH….AHHH,” he gasped with the second. “There’ll be one more whack for Incitement,” she said sternly, “as someone recently said to me….” touché, “….but I didn’t quite finish drying the dishes, and then I’ll make up your Private Beat Sheet….” she gave him an evil grin, whilst walking away, “Bitch,” he whispered, “….which makes two, with another for the Vulgarity.”

 

With his tool in torment, waiting for the whacks was forever. Finally, after an eternity, she returned. “Perhaps you’d like me to put you out of your misery, Shagger?” she asked, “unless you’d like a second six strokes, with what you kindly considered calling a Maintenance Caning?” He wouldn’t. “Mercy, Ma’am,” he muttered, “I beg you for the coups de grâce.” She mouthed him a kiss, so clearly she wasn’t actually angry.   

 

SWISHHHTHWACKKKK    SWISHHHTHWACKKKK

“YIKES..YIKES….EIGHT….a straight eight, thank you so much, MA’AM. It was discipline deserved and duly dished….and a completely competent caning, Ma’am.” She put down his cane, and removed his black shower robe. “Thank you, Sir,” she said, “there’s not many fearsome fagmasters who’d allow their lowly junior fags to do such a dreadful deed, and I’m grateful. In the circumstances, I’ll tick the box for No Publicity, at least until such time as the succubus is unmasked.”

 

 

Fair comment, as he glanced up at the clock, and saw it was 4.43pm. “Dismissed for the day, both of you,” he said, standing up and padding across to his wardrobes, “report as usual tomorrow morning, Mitches. As for Kelly….” he opened one, and extracted a small phial, “….drop this into his drink whilst he’s distracted.” Something which shouldn’t be at all difficult whilst she was wearing the Happy Hooker hosiery, “Yes, Sir,” she said, “I’m enjoying all this immensely.” Mitchell Mary Murphy’s mouth moved. “Yes?” he asked. “Anytime you want me to be the femme fatale, Sir,” she said, “just say the word.”

 

He nodded. “Most certainly so,” he said, “and it’s two whacks for saying Fuck under your breath. In addition to the Vulgarity, it’s Conduct unbecoming for an innocent young Lady.” Her eyes flashed fire, and doubtless he’d be acquainted with her feelings another time. His fags both left the study, and he returned to his table. “Ahhh,” he gasped as he sat down, and his raw rear reminded him of the rattan. He picked up his clip board, and turned over the pages again.

 

St Stricktlands School – Private Beat Sheet for:-  David Shagton 

Sheet no:- 15   School Term and Year:- Summer, LXXXIX 

For prefects’ personal punishments taken by caners not operating their own sheets, or for use as a written record of any other culpable canee’s crimes outside the usual school system. It may still be handed to the School Secretary, if the disciplinary details thereon are required to be registered. If so, please write neatly and legibly, otherwise penalties may be applied.

 

Then he inspected the entries she’d made on his behalf.

3.Sex Thrashing (succubus stunt, not me): 6, Vulgarity: 1, Incitement: 1: Total 8, Kelly Morgan

 

Fair enough, as he opened his heavy Physics textbook, Electricity and Magnetism. Appropriately enough, the publishers had used the style known as Neon Lights for the title. Having read it carefully over the past year, he’d noted it made no mention of TENS anywhere. Apparently Transcutaneous Electrical Nerve Stimulation was one use of electricity about which the author appeared not to know nothing….or wasn’t about to admit?  On the other hand, maybe he’d led a sheltered life? Zappo Products weren’t for everyone, after all. Still, it would be dull without The Shocker, Electric Eel, Twist and Shout, Nightwatchman,  fun Fuck Fork, cattle prod, and the electric chair, all of which gave a certain sparkle one way or another. He focussed onto the matter in hand.

* * * * * *

 

The time was 8.03pm when he yawned, and closed his books. He tidied up his felt-tip pens and metal footrule, ones he’d been using for making graphs, putting them all into a neat pile. In theory, his evening dates should be arriving imminently. Dr Fiona Allbright BA BSc MSc PhD had promised to get him a grade A, however it was now down to him to deliver. The Good Doctor’s considered the stick to be much more effective than the carrot. After his extra-curricular evening sessions with her, his raw rear always confirmed the contention….in addition to her Caning For Cunt.  

 

He’d also benefited greatly from his six days’ stint at her so-called Solo Summer School the previous year. This had been four hours of fun-filled Physics daily with discipline, and Domestic Duties done in a situation of semi-sexual slavery. Then there was a knock on the door. “Entarrrr,” he called out. It opened, and two delicious damsels emerged. One was a pretty prefect wearing basic black, whereas the other was completely covered by a Lee van Cleef cloak. The long black silky specimen was apparently so-named after the ancient actor. “Ohh,” he gasped as she hung it on a peg, as underneath it was the Fig-leaf Apron attire from The Stern Maiden.

 

This was a natty number in French Maid style which only just covered the crotch. There was nothing else except matching black high-heeled shoes. Her work name of Joan was stencilled across the apron. “Good evening, Mesdemoiselles,” he said, standing up and bowing slightly, “two Shirley’s for the price of one….darling….” which was their private parlance, “….but another warm welcome to The Styx. I’m afraid there’s going to be a slight delay before we can kick off properly. I’ve a succubus stunt set for half past eight, however it shouldn’t take very long.”

 

There was a slight sniff from Shirley Greene. “I should have known you’d be behind this recent spate of sightings….darling,” she said, in her somewhat soft sensual soprano, “so who’s the stooge?” He smiled slightly. “It’s Lying Disgrace,” he said, “who annoyed several prefects this afternoon by attempting post mortems after the Maths paper without the option, in order to demonstrate his extreme cleverness.” The Green Goddess shrugged. “I never liked him,” she said, “but then he was one of the six nasties last year, which explains a lot. Certainly I haven’t screwed him….well, he’s never asked, but the answer would have been No in any event. So what shall we do for the next half hour, darling?”

 

He considered the question. “You know Shirley was here only a few days ago on my Shagger’s Schoolday Sojourn,” he said, “there some things she could tell us about it….like how she fared during her tour of St Sticks with H₂O, and what it was like fagging for Rat Conman?” Probably the latter hadn’t been particularly pleasant, since he was another émigré from dorm 6N….” he gestured towards the settee, “….I’ll make some coffee, if you wish….?” there were two neat nods, “….do take a seat.” The Waitress’ back and bottom were bare, apart from the knotted strings. These dangled down daintily, doubling as a black thong. They shifted as she swayed across the study, suggesting the seat was strokeable….a treat for tools, but terrible tease.

 

Fuck her….at least he hoped, ambling to the kitchenette and firing up the kettle. Heavens, The Pirate had gone the extra mile without even being asked, and everything was prepared ready. There were three mugs, so she must have checked his Cute Cunt Calendar. For a second he felt some slight guilt for flogging her earlier. Then it passed, since her suggestion for doubling the discipline plainly pointed towards wanting the whacks. He’d been in the same situation with Sexy Sammy the previous year, and he’d reluctantly concluded he really DID enjoy being beaten by her.  

 

As the kettle started to boil, he smiled inwardly, since he’d hopefully have many more opportunities next autumn? Samantha and Patricia Terrier were both attending the University of Lancashire, along with his firm friend Raymond Lee as a ménage-à-trois. Relay had indicated their captivating Celtic cunts would be available for the asking at any time. He poured out three cups, took the tray across to the settee, “Do help yourselves to milk and sugar,” he said as he set it onto the coffee table. “Ahhh,” he gasped as he sat down between them both. “Have you been a bit of a bad boy, Shagger?” asked Surely Serious.  

 

“Not yet,” he confirmed, “it was a prepayment punishment. It’s a point of honour, whereby the perpetrator of the succubus stunt pays for the poke instead of the stooge….” he added his own milk, “….so what can you tell us about Rat Conman, Shirley?” She took a sip, and started to speak. “As you may recall,” she replied, “I was wearing my St Severus School uniform. It’s basically brown and beige stripes, and comprised a very fetching waistcoat, with Standard Schoolgirl Spanking Shorts. My matching shoes, socks, blouse and tie completed the pretty picture.”

 

The Green Goddess giggled. “Nice,” she said, “I’m sure you seemed seriously spankable. Presumably though, they were removed for rattan on the rear?” There was a wry smile. “Indeed,” she agreed, “the bottom was always bared for beating, same as the bad boys. Anyway, as Shagger knows, his prefect peer had once attended my school, so knew all about it. He sat down on his settee, stating he’d start with a little something to remember our times at St Severes.”

 

She bent fetchingly across his lap, knowing the thin material of the Spanking Shorts would provide little posterior protection....even if he chose to leave them in place. “We may as….well, Start-As-You-Mean-To-Go-On….” he said wittily, slipping them off as he spoke, and putting them onto the coffee table, “….interesting, since you already have a hit and hot hiney. Was it sodding Shagger?” She shook her head. “No, Sir,” she replied, “I’ve Explained myself to The Headmaster, and it was a bit of a beating by the beak….” she paused, “….he too started with some sound spanking, as you can see, Sir.” Smackk smack “….oww,” she gasped at what was clearly a light starter spanking….smackk smack “….oww.” 

 

“It may have started off lightly,” she said, “but it became firmer as the punishment progressed. By the time his fags arrived, I was seriously sore….for a second time.” 

 

SMACKK  SMACKK “….OWW….” SMACKK SMACKK “….OWW….me bum, Sir,” she gasped, even as the study door opened, and a pupil In The Pink emerged. “Ohh,” he gasped as he saw her. “Stand up, guilty girl,” he said, “and shake hands with Arse Up Aesop.” Slowly she stood, with her Spanking Shorts still on the table, and hardly in a state of dignity. The senior fag didn’t seem at all discomforted, but he was probably pleased to peek at pussy. “The pleasure’s all mine, Ma’am,” he said in formal fashion as they shook hands. Then the door opened a second time, and a green figure strutted inside. 

 

“This sinful specimen is Ian Struther,” said the prefect, “known as Strutter….” for fairly obvious reasons, “….he’s in dorm 3O, which makes him one of The Little ’♂rr♂rs. Baring a career change, it means most likely he’ll be in dorm 6O in three years’ time, which will make him one of The Six ♂glers. I often use him as an appreciative audience, for when I’m dishing derrière discipline. He does an excellent job at….well, Ogling Obviously Over someone older than himself. Anyway, this guilty girl, who hails from my old school, is one of sodding Shagger’s Schoolday Sojourns. She’s been deputed to be my senior fag for the duration, so it’s Aesop Hislop’s lucky day….and tomorrow morning, too….” he paused, “….when would you wish your Welcome Back Whacking, bad boy?” he asked. 

 

“Please, Sir,” he replied, “I’d like it straight away, preferably with this lovely Lady watching, Sir.” The prefect smiled, as he stood up and collected his cane. “It doesn’t surprise me,” he said sadly, “since Arse Up Aesop is in dorm 6X. I sometimes wonder why I even bother with PWEP, which is Punishment With Extreme Prejudice. For The Six X-hibiti♂nists, it’s straight up their street. So get your arse up, Arse Up….” very droll, as he lowered his pink Knackerpants, and an errant erection emerged. He smiled as his shaft strained, feloniously and fetchingly, “….with one more for posturing like a peacock at this innocent young Lady.” Then he assumed the Position. 

 

Swishhhthwackkkkk    Swishhhthwackkkkk 

“Oooo..HOO….TWO, thank you, SIR,” he gasped as two staccato style strikes arrived without warning. Shagger had told her it was OO on two and YEEE on three. She’d have to remember the etiquette, since they’d not used it at St Severes.   

Swishhhthwackkkkk    Swishhhthwackkkkk 

“Oww..WOWW….FOUR, thank you, SIR,” he gasped, “I’ll try to be a good fag for you this term, Sir.” Doubtless he’d do his best, but a saint would still be swished at St Sticks. 

Swishhhthwackkkkk 

“Yeowwch....five, thank you, Sir,” he gasped, “I should be ashamed of myself for parading a pulsing penis, Sir….ohh,” he added as the stripes were stroked with the stick. “I think we can safely say you’d fail an erection inspection,” said Rat Conman 

Swishhhthwackkkkk    Swishhhthwackkkkk    Swishhhthwackkkkk 

“Yeouch..OUCH..OUCH….EIGHT, a straight eight, thank you so much….Çur,” he gasped, “I know I shouldn’t Be Bothered By Beating.” The prefect gave an evil grin. “One more whack,” he said sternly, “for which you well know the reason why.” He nodded. “Yes, Sir,” he replied.  

SWISHHHTHWACKKK 

“YIKES….NINE….a nasty nine, thank you, SIR. I’m sorry I mentally misspelled the salutation, complete with cedilla, Sir.” She’d never got away with it at school either. “You’ve had your fun,” he said, “so stand up and sort yourself out. Then you can go, reporting at the usual time tomorrow afternoon.” The senior fag gave him a glance which would have torched toast at twendy paces. “Ahhh….” he gasped as the hem of his Knackerpants scraped across his arse, “….Uhhh,” he added as the coarse velcro material interfered with his erection. 

 

“The reason for his annoyance,” he explained, “was because it’s impossible to comply with such an instruction. Afternoon school doesn’t finish until four o’clock, after which all fags are on injury time. It’s in accordance with their prefect’s chosen Lateness Regime, which is one whack per six minutes in my case. Many of my prefect peers opt for much more, and Richard Sharp claims one a minute. Hopefully you didn’t discover Rat Conman’s the hard way? In the mornings, there’s no problem.” She shook her head. 

 

“Certainly, Sir,” he said tonelessly, as he stepped out of the study. “I didn’t actually get around to introducing my temporary senior fag to you, Strutter,” said Matthew Conran, “she’s Shirley Cirrus….and apparently known as Surely Serious….” he pursed his lips, “….where have you been billeted?” She smiled wanly, with the so-called swishee’s smirk. It was often offered by culpable canees in class, as a prelude to public punishment. It was the one which says wanly: I know how much my hit hiney will hurt. Since she’d be receiving the rattan on an already raw rear, it was absolutely apt for the action. 

 

“Please, Sir,” she replied, “it’s dorm 6B, Sir.” He shrugged. “So it’s the six bi babes,” he said, “presumably one of whom will be sharing sodding Shagger’s bed this evening?” She shrugged. “I really couldn’t say, Sir,” she replied, “since there’ll also be the possibility of a deviant damsel from The Six Milkers.” Whose place in dorm 6M would have been taken by Daphne Saffron. This explanation didn’t prove an emolument. If anything, it was fuelling the flames of fire. “Dammit,” he snarled, his face reddening, “it’s exactly as I suspected. The most likely outcome is a Bi-some threesome of some description. Have I ever enjoyed one of those?” She supposed not. “I don’t know, Sir,” she replied. 

 

“It was a rhetorical question,” he said, slightly more calmly, “but it’s bad enough never to have had the luxury of two Birds in bed. As you may know, sodding Shagger’s somehow sourced himself a ménage-à-trois….” she hadn’t, “….two twats for his tool to take in turn. I try not to think about it too much, since it only annoys me. But the big bastard had really good offers for all of them from the University of Lancashire. Hell, he was even screwing the Admissions Secretary. Heaven knows how, since he’d only just met her….and it was pretty plain she’d no time for me. All I can ever get out of him is: It’s not what you know but who….which hardly helps.” She could understand his ire, since on the face of things it seemed a mite unfair.  

 

“If he wasn’t such a complete cretin,” he said, “I’d have more sympathy, and explain. But as I’d already mentioned, I had the fix in with the Admissions Officer….who’s the Secretary’s open-husband. As it happens, they’re both alumni, or sometime scholars of St Sticks. There’s also the minor matter of my Patron and firm friend, Sir Digby Vaillance. Digger’s now a Governor here, and enjoys playing In The Pink of an evening. After applying him with a Curfew Caning, Rat managed to make all manner of disparaging remarks about the Chancellor of Lancashire University….” suggesting he was an elderly out-of-touch idiot, “….without realizing he was talking to him.”  

 

Succubus Start 229 – part (1) of (4)

The prefect David Shagton sat at the very front of the main assembly hall at St Stricktlands School, and glanced up at the wall clock. It was 3.28pm, and there were thus exactly two minutes left of his first A-Level examination. His position was one of choice, since he always hated seeing how well all the other candidates were faring. He closed the paper for the last time, and stared down at it. Given its importance in the overall scheme of things, he now knew how condemned prisoners felt about looking at their death warrants. The only difference was this being the first of four of the dratted things….plus two Practicals. They were spread irregularly over the next couple of weeks, depending upon which subjects were being taken.

                                      

Oxford and Cambridge 

Joint Matriculation Board 

Advanced Level Mathematics – paper 1 

Eight questions should be attempted out of the twelve. Total time allowed: 3 hours. Candidates should ensure all sheets are numbered, and placed in the folder supplied, together with their name and school. Talking is not permitted at any time. Candidates may not leave the room early, except to hand in their papers. Credit will be given for neat and orderly work.

 

As for the latter, it was the same exhortation as appeared on Lines. Surely this was an example of subaudition, where a word or phrase meant something different to what it purported? What the bastards were REALLY saying was: ‘If it’s a right mess, we’ll knock off marks for sheer hassle value.’ At The Styx, such sub-standard Lines were simply declared Inadmissible, and had to be done again….duly doubled. It was indeed an excellent incentive to get them right the first time. After all, during his period In The Pink, he’d had plenty of practice with which to prove the point of principle.

 

Then he saw the invigilator stride up onto the Podium. “Stop Writing, Everyone….” said Jeremy Knowle, deliberately. It made his sentences sound as though every word were capitalized, “….Scripts In Folders. You May Then Leave The Hall Quietly.” He’d never been in any of his classes, for which he was grateful, since the affectation would….well, grate fully after a while. Certainly Know All sounded like a bit of a know-all. Silently, he shut his folder for the final time, and wished it well. Whether he’d be taking up his place at the University of Lancashire in the autumn would partly be determined by how he’d fared during the past three hours. “Ohh,” he murmured softly as he stood, since his seat was still slightly sore. He’d enjoyed his sex session in the morning, a final fuck for the condemned felon before going to the gallows. Inevitably, it had….well, cum at the cost of a Caning For Cunt.

 

He ambled away towards the double doors, somewhat light-headed. After all, persistent nagging worry about these exams had been his constant companion for nearly two years. In a fortnight, they’d finally be out of his hair….one way or the other. Then memory reminded him how even if he were to be successful, it would merely mean more of the same to follow. There’d be first and second year examinations at University….let alone finals.

 

Once outside, in a haze of relief for still being alive, he exhaled with sheer gratitude. Several of his prefect peers obviously agreed with his sentiments, and did the same. “Oi….wanker boy?” Dimly, he heard a voice calling to him. His brain focussed, as he turned towards his prefect peer. “Were you talking to me, Lionel?” he asked politely. “Obviously,” replied Lying Disgrace, “since you hailed from dorm 6W last year….” very good, but so what? “….did you spot the trick in question 4?” One of the many things he hated about exams was post-mortems. Finding out from someone else how he’d spent half an hour getting an answer wrong wasn’t his idea of fun. In this instance though, he was spared the indignity.

 

“No….” he replied, smiling sweetly as he walked away, “….fortunately, it wasn’t one which I attempted.” There was a slight sniff, as Lionel Disraeli-Greys turned his attention to another victim. He saw several dozen souls starting their trek into the long, dark cold corridors, and decided he’d go cross-country instead. So he took the side exit by the main notice-board, and stepped out onto the grass. But as for his possible future at University, he considered over several breaths of fresh air, it should be one small step at a time. By kind courtesy of his Patron, he’d been granted the luxury for a free choice of degree course. He’d heard how being a science student meant massive amounts of work on a daily basis. They all had a full timetable of four, hour-long morning lectures, followed by laboratory work every afternoon. Needless to say, their evenings were taken by writing it all up.

 

By contrast, it appeared the classics scholars simply spent most of their days in earnest conversation whilst drinking copious cups of coffee, complete with convivial company. There was the occasional optional lecture, coupled with a few tutorials. So despite his hopeful three A-Levels in Maths, Physics and Biology, he might very well select something simple and straightforward….say Psychology or Sociology? If it were merely a matter of writing reams of reasoned rubbish once in a while, whilst sounding sincere, he was all for it. This tack would enable him to enjoy the full fruits of a University education….books, beer and Bimbos, as Sir Digby Vaillance had so politely put it.

 

Several minutes later, he reached the side door to the Senior Dorms wing, and stepped inside. So why not avoid the crush completely, as he looked carefully along the corridor? Having confirmed it was empty, he fumbled inside his jacket pocket and extracted his Cunt Casanova key. Then he inserted the Yale into the locked broom cupboard door, and opened it. Once inside, it silently swung shut behind him. The motion sensors acted at once, and the bulkhead lights lit. He continued to the back of the cupboard, and started up the first of the secret spiral stone steps.

 

Round and round he went….oops, there was light up ahead. Cautiously, he crept up to what must be Level 2, and peered into the occupied broom cupboard. He could see a black figure bending forward by the door, which was just ajar. Logically, this must be Hercules Poke, who’d been sitting at the back of the hall. He was his Cunt Casanova colleague and firm friend, who enjoyed study 24 on this level. “Ohh….” gasped Poke Her as his seat was stroked softly. He released the door, which duly closed quietly, “….sod it, Shagger….you REALLY gave me a shock. Obviously, one doesn’t normally expect company at times like this….” he licked his lips, “….mind you, if you fancy fondling flogged fannies, you can soothe my stripes. I made your Missus this morning, and she hits hineys hard….as you well know.” He nodded, as his prefect peer lowered his trousers and matching black underpants. Sure enough, he could count all twelve….the dozen due of her cunt currency. “Ohh….ohh….ohh…ohh,” he moaned for several minutes.

 

“I hope it helps, Cully,” he said, as the other replaced his clothes, “but returning to the matter in hand. Presumably you were waiting for the corridor to empty, so you could sneak safely into your study?” His prefect peer nodded. “Got it in one, Shagger,” he said, “I loathe post-mortems….” thou too, Brutus, “….and was accosted on my way out of the assembly hall by Lying Disgrace. He started by saying: Oi….exhibitionist….” again fair enough, since Cully been one of The Six X-hibiti♂nists of dorm 6X, “….however he gloatingly wanted to tell me all about question 4….the bastard. It was worse, because I DIDN’T notice the twist, having to take logs of logs. Doing it the long way must have taken ten minutes of my time needlessly. The sod’s still standing outside his study talking avidly to someone I can’t quite see. Almost certainly he’s telling them all about his extreme cleverness….” he paused, “….he needs to be taken down, and quickly.”

 

His views precisely. “I was wondering,” he said slowly, “whether he might meet a scheming succubus this evening?” The other smiled widely. “I’ve long since suspected you’d know something about these various stunts of late,” he said, “so tell me how you’ve worked them?” He smiled. “It’s really very simple,” he replied, “my succubus is Tarka Susannah Boughs….you know her well, since you did the dirty deed and deflowered her. She told me you poked her with your poker.” Poke Her nodded. “As one of the Flaunts of dorm 5F,” he said, “I agree she’s made for the job. Nobody could hardly fail to notice the long silky blonde hair which simply seemed to stream over her smooth shoulders….” there was a short silence as both bad boys remembered it in reverie, “….anyway, she wears her Succubus Silver Shawl, as so many people have sort-of-seen….” SNAPP….went the other’s fingers, “….vanishing into the æther….well, where we’re standing?” he asked.

 

“Exactly,” he agreed, these secret spiral steps have always been succubus haunts down the years.” Then his firm friend pursed his lips. “How do you ensure the stooge stays sleeping?” he asked. “A phial of Chloral Hydrate dropped into a drink works wonders,” he replied, “which does take some doing, but best by some assistance from a sinful slut….” he paused, and considered, “….I reckon I’ve a plan which will work, but it’ll require the assistance of my junior fag. I’ll brief her accordingly, and we’ll set the stunt for half past eight, since both Babes will have to do Prep this evening as usual. If you’d like to be in on this, could you could kindly sound out Sukey….?” the other nodded, “….since you’re situated so close to the stooge, perhaps she and Kelly can both change in your study….?” another nod,

 

“….I’ll pop down when we’re ready for the Off. It may mean a delay in doing your date, however hopefully she won’t mind the wait….?” he paused, “….the only difficulty concerns Sukey’s reward, since she expects to be screwed by someone….in addition to the stooge. She’s happy with a Bi-some threesome, however I already have one of those this evening as it is.” Hercules Poke grinned widely. “I’ve Late Lezzie Lizzie,” he replied, “so there’s no problem. But won’t your junior fag be wanting a reward, too? Neither of us could help her, since she’s still underage.”

 

Carefully, he considered the query. “Perhaps you might offer to screw her after she turns sweet sixteen?” he suggested, “on a conjugal visit to St Sticks? I’ve a number of those planned, and I daresay you have as well?” His Cunt Casanova colleague grinned. “Yes,” he confirmed, “even though it’s considered cradle-snatching by some….” normally those who hadn’t been asked to do the despicable deed of defloration, “….so you can suggest she signs herself up into the forward bookings section of my Penis Presenter….if she wishes.”

 

Which would work well. “Thanks, Cully,” he said, “it’s been a business doing pleasure with you….” a phrase apparently popular with Happy Hookers? “….do you want to check the corridor again?” The other opened the door ajar again, and peered out. “Assume it’s all on….unless you hear otherwise, Shagger,” he whispered, “so until later.” Then with a wave, he stepped out into the corridor. The door closed quietly behind him, and he retreated back inside the depths to the secret staircase. Again he ascended the spiral steps, even as he dimly heard the main school clock tower known as Big Ben striking for 4pm. Very soon, he reached the Level 6 broom cupboard, and the sensor did its stuff. Cautiously, he pushed open the door, and all was empty. He crept out, and the door swung silently shut. Seconds later reached the sanctity of his own study.

 

David Shagton 

Quis illum sceleratum fuisse putavisset  

 

Who Would Have Thought He Was A Rascal, he reflected as always. He stepped inside, and glanced up at the wall clock. Excellent, since it was 4.03pm, and his fags should be arriving shortly. So what was next? Really he ought to spend some time with final revision, since it was his Physics Practical in the morning. Evidently his personal demon had been at work, putting two so close together. However, he’d award himself the luxury of a shower first, to soothe away some stresses of the afternoon. So he stepped into the shower room, and stripped slowly.

 

Then he entered the cubicle, soaped himself and turned on the tap. Bliss….as the warm water cascaded down. “Do you need any help in there….Shagger….?” asked Mitchell Mary Murphy, opening the door, and pointedly omitting any salutation. She was well within her rights, since he was starkers and hence devoid of his prefect’s privileges, “….with some scrotum strafing….or shaft stroking….” she grimaced, “….or screwing, although I see you’ve another sodding threesome this evening. So I suppose I’ll have to go whistle on the latter score.” He smiled out at her. “If you want to be helpful….” he said, taking the hose off its hook, and shifting the shower setting to its strongest jet, “….you can best, bust, baste and blast my balls.” As his protégé, and third cousin Harry Herbert Orwell had once so eloquently put it.

 

She smiled slightly, and turned up the temperature several notches. “FUCK….AHHH….MITCHES….AHHH….AHHH….you Bitch….FUCK,” he gasped, “me balls….AHHH….AHHH…..AYEEEEE….FUCKK, you wanton wicked wench.” He turned off the tap, shivering under sheer sexual stress. “Anytime, Shagger,” she said, mouthing him a kiss. “Thank you,” he said, “kindly hand me some Naccatape and a towel, unless you’re going to tell me to do so my sodding self. In which case I will….although I shall see to it your seat subsequently suffers….” a prefect not only held all the aces, but all the trumps, too, “….then there’s a large pile of ironing which isn’t going to get done by itself.”

 

She nodded with evident resignation, and retreated as he stepped out of the shower, “Ohhh….ohhh,” he gasped as he stretched his scrotum, and bound his balls. As it claimed correctly, This ¾ inch wide white torment tape enables testicles to be tied temptingly tight to taste. Then he took the towel, and dried himself down. Having had a crew cut without the option at the end of the Spring holidays, his hair was still quite short. It would have just grown nicely before his next appointment in a Reformatory….when he’d be shaved similarly. He combed his hair, put on a black shower robe, and padded out into the main study. “Was it one whack each for lamentable Lateness?” he asked, picking up his clipboard. “For me yes, Sir,” said 3M politely, as he turned the pages.

 

St Stricktlands School – Fagging Beat Sheet for:-  David Shagton 

Senior/Junior fag (delete as applicable):- Mitchell Mary Murphy    Sheet no:- 34 

Dorm:- 6K  School Term and Year:-  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. 

 

4. Lateness: 1

“What about you?” he asked of his junior fag, working hard at the kitchenette? “Two, Sir,” she replied, “since I was eight minutes late.” He turned over to her sheet.

7. Lateness: 2 

 

“I have an important errand for you, Kelly,” he said, “and one which will require a certain amount of skulduggery….” inevitably, she was all ears at once, “….kindly pop down to study 19 on Level 2. I want you to present my compliments to Lying Disgrace, and ask him if you could kindly cadge some milk?” She stared at him in horror. “But he’ll say No, Sir,” she replied, desperately.

 

“Almost certainly,” he replied, “in which case you’ll wail at him, and say you’ve already tried elsewhere. You’ll say I’m a terrible tyrant, and how I’ve already beaten you badly for your failure. Then you’ll suggest you show him your seat, with some six stripes. When this doesn’t work either, you should play your trump card, which is to suggest a quid pro quo social call this evening after Prep….” a Reciprocal Exchange, “….you’ll want to wear your Happy Hooker hosiery, perhaps even with a private demonstration of how my Wanko Whacks for Cute Cunt Classes work. Report to study 24 soonest possible after Prep, where you can get changed. Then it’s only three doors down to do the deed. When you attend, you’ll suggest drinks….to loosen up the lovely Lady a little. Alcohol’s allowed, since it’s a study, and not a public house. However, you’ll slip him a phial of Chloral Hydrate, and he’ll be on the floor in a matter of minutes. After he’s unconscious, you’ll return to Poke Her’s study, where we’ll all be waiting….with my scheming succubus. Lionel’s been a right pain to us both this afternoon, let alone several other prefects….and it’s high time he was taught a lesson.”

 

Standing by the ironing board, Mitchell Mary Murphy smiled wryly. He suspected she knew the gist of it from conversations with her favourite friend Richella Ruth Rhodes. “I should have known you were involved somewhere with all this succubus subterfuge, Sir,” said The Pirate, “and whilst I’m highly happy to help, I hope I might profit from my services somewhere along the line?”

 

Definitely. “One whack for a caneable Question, Kelly,” he said, “and a second for Impertinently Imparting Information. But your reward will be a forward entry on his Coitus Calendar for some time after next February. It’s a facility which few in your year will be able to achieve….if you wish it….” her eyes of adoration were confirmation in themselves, “….alas we will both pay in pain. You first of all, since in order to ensure we have….well, local colour, the six strokes to which I referred will be real. However, I too will suffer somewhat, since there’s a point of principle with succubus stunts. The perpetrator pays the price with the succubus’ Sex Thrashing, in place of the stooge….” he shrugged, “….and I’ve a Bi-some threesome this evening, followed by a date tomorrow morning. Therefore, I’d appreciate having the hits now….which you’re welcome to do, when you’ve lined things up for later. So if you’d like to bare your bottom and bend over, we’ll start the rears rolling.”

 

Coyly, she emerged from the kitchenette, with her hands held on her hiney. “Yes, Sir,” she said, “good and hard….” she grinned, “….I’ll make it up to you upon my return, Sir….” she assumed the Position, lowered her green knickers to the floor, and flipped up her skirt, “….ohh….SIR,” she added with a wiggle of her waist, as he stroked her seat with the stick. “One more whack for Incitement, Kelly,” he said, “you should know better by now.”

Swishhhthwackkkk

“One, thank you, Sir,” she said woodenly, and claiming canees’ privilege. It entitled her to stay silent, apart from the cut count, some suitable salutation and an affirmation of appreciation. “It’ll have to be individual strokes, Kelly,” he said, “rather than in the staccato style.”

Swishhhthwackkkk

“Ooh….two, thank you, Sir,” she gasped lightly, somehow sounding so much like sex. He’d find out whether she really WAS an OO girl when he fucked her for the first time the following February. “I want Lying Disgrace to see six stripes spread all across your adorable arse,” he explained cheerfully. 

 

Swishhhthwackkkk

“Yeee….three, thank you, Sir,” she yelped. “I’m sure you understand I’m doing this out of necessity,” he continued didactically, “and not simply because I enjoy beating your bottom.” She sniffed. “Certainly, Sir,” she said sourly, “and nothing at all to do with stress relief, following your exam this afternoon?” Spoken with some insight, he agreed.

 

SWISHHTHWACKKKK

“YIKES….FOUR….it was a GOOD one….ooh….thank you, SIR,” she gasped. “Which was another caneable Question, in addition to such shocking Sarcasm,” he said sternly, “even if it IS totally true.” It was always nice when one’s efforts were appreciated.

 

Swishhhthwackkkk

“Yaroooh….five, thank you, Sir,” she gasped. “I suppose I could put this down as a Maintenance Caning,” he said, “however, for present purposes, we’ll say it includes one for being such a lazy useless good-for-nothing junior fag.” The catch-all crime, for which anyone could always be culpable. He crooked the cane under his arm, and picked up his clipboard again. Stopping short at the penultimate stroke like this was simply studied sadism. Her nervous system was already agonizing at an aching arse, yet the caning wasn’t quite concluded. It was a technique used by the best beaters in the business, of which he was one.

 

8. Incitement: 1, Impertinently Imparting Information: 1, Total: 2 - Taken 

9.  Lazy useless good-for-nothing fag: 1: Sarcasm: 1: Questions: 2 – Total: 4 - Taken  

“Now I’ll graciously give you the coup de grâce,” he said, colloquially called the Cut Of Grace.

 

Swishhhthwackkkk

“Yeouchh….six, thank you, Sir,” she gasped, “thank you for caning me so convincingly, Sir.” Carefully, he inspected the six stripes, and hoped they’d pass muster? “Sort yourself out, Kelly,” he said, “and then get going.” She stood slowly, “Ahh,” she gasped as she raised her green knickers, and the hem stroked her sore seat. Then she smoothed down her skirt. “I’ll be back soon, Sir,” she said as she collected a jug, and flounced from the room. “I assume you’re sort-of up to speed on succubus stunts, Mitches?” he asked. “Yes, Sir,” she replied, “Harry’s mentioned most of it, although I still don’t see how the succubus disappears.”

 

She would soon. “Follow me,” he said, “and I’ll show you straight away….but this should go no further than your favourite friends.” He opened the study door, and held it for her. Senior fag she might be, but there was still space for gallantry. He left the door wide open as they continued to the locked broom cupboard. “Ohh,” she gasped, as he opened it, “I always wanted to know what the Yale key on your wardrobe peg opened,” she said as he followed her inside, and the bulkhead lights illuminated. “It makes a change from showing me your etchings, Sir,” she said as she inspected the spiral staircase, “A whole sodding year I’ve been at this school, and I never knew these existed….” a standard sentiment expressed by scholars, “….I suppose they go to all floors in the wing.” He nodded.

 

“Now you also know how Cunt Casanovas can flit around so easily and invisibly,” he confirmed, as she crowded him, somehow standing very close. “Perhaps a quick kiss and a cuddle, Sir,” she suggested. “All right….Mmmm,” he moaned as she kissed him hard, and he handled her hiney. “You haven’t lost your touch on my tush, Sir,” she said breathlessly when they’d separated. Cautiously, he opened the door, and again the corridor was clear. He opened it wide and followed her outside, watching it silently swing shut behind him. Several seconds later, they were back in his study, and she continued with her ironing. He’d use the opportunity of sorting out his Physics books, for use after he’d eaten.