Shirley Greene
Templum Deae
The Temple of the Goddess, he’d been told....and wasn’t it appropriate? “Well….Wanker Boy Will….” said another vixen’s voice from behind him, “….ohh….ohh,” he moaned as his posterior was petted all over again, “….you beat my bottom last week in the Canteen for being Last Out at lunch….” Oh, dear, “….however what goes around….well, cums around….” so it seemed, “….I see you’ve suffered similarly today, and it serves you right….you big bastard. Normally I’d knacker your nuts, however we’re both late, and I don’t want any more whacks.” Probably though, this was only another temporary stay of execution? “After you, Ma’am,” he muttered, since this must be June Pettit? HOW he’d love to pet it. She opened the door without knocking, in accordance with fagging protocol, and he followed her inside.
“Good afternoon….Wanker Boy Will,” said The Green Goddess, “and welcome to The Temple. I see you’re starkers, a sin which you can explain later, so it will be one whack for reporting Improperly Attired. Actually, it saves some time, since I’d have you in the altogether anyway….” but he STILL had the whack, “….put your pile by the door….” he deposited it down, “….Shagger told me last Monday evening how he’d been successful in securing your services, and I was very appreciative of his efforts….” doubtless with sex, “….indeed so….with a screw, Shanks,” she agreed amiably to his unspoken suggestion, so clearly HER mind reading abilities were similarly second-to-none, “….you had this odd idea all last year about how Sexy Sammy was somehow a cushy number….” guilty, “….it’ll be my privilege to demonstrate beyond all shadow of doubt how a frightful fagmistress is NOT a soft touch….” she stroked her basic black strict short shiny skirt where she shouldn’t, and his penis pulsed at the provocation, “….but we’d best begin.” This was going to be properly painful. “Please, Ma’am,” he said politely, “I’m so sorry we were late.”
She picked up her cane, and flexed it between her fingers. “Three strokes for failing an erection inspection….” she said, as his shaft strained in anticipation of the agonies onto his arse, “….June can get going with my grub, and I’ll put two onto both your beat sheets….” it seemed her Lateness Regime was one whack per five minutes? “….as for my temporary senior fag, it’ll be six of the best, including your Same To Go beating. I always enjoy Senior Swaps with studs, since it enables me to enjoy Naked Waiter service….” as sodding Shagger had said. This was beginning to feel like his recent stay in at Helmsdale-in-the-Hole. At least though he wouldn’t have to wear all manner of bondage bands.
He stood to attention, hands behind his head. Once again his knobbly knees knocked, whilst his willy wavered wildly. “You never did learn how to be a good exposer or exhibitionist,” she said wryly, “still, Shagger’s said he’s lined up some sort of schooling….” so he’d claimed, “….for which you should be grateful, but knowing you, probably aren’t....” Ouch….as the barb hit home, “….you always were an ingrate….you and sodding Sharp the same. Still, I suppose you’re not beyond redemption, given your attendance at Madam Dee’s Reformatory over the holidays….” she grinned suddenly, “….Dominant dolts should stimulate their small submissive sides, as indeed I do with mine. Hell….I’ve even harboured hankerings for being a gaolbird….” really? “….having been told all about it by Appalling….” Andrea Pawling, an émigrée of The Six Jailbirds in dorm 6J, “….but bend, bad boy.”
Yet again, he presented his posterior for punishment pain. He could see the de facto junior fag smiling at him from the kitchenette. It was PWEP, or Punishment With Extreme Prejudice….flogging in front of younger years. “An aching arse all afternoon, it appears,” she said, “would you care to comment on the collection of cuts?” Not particularly, but it was probably better than working?
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“Yeee..EEEE..HEEE….THREE, thank you, MA’AM,” he yelped. “It started with my rustication rattan,” he said, “with a bit of a beating by the beak….as duly described by Mrs Gertrude Griffin….” he added quickly, not wanting one whack for a Disrespectful Reference, “….then it was a Canteen caning, for being Last Out. This made me seriously late for Lesson 5….which was hers, as it happened. I was also caned convincingly during Lessons 6 and 7.”
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“Yarooo..OOO..HOOO….SIX….six of the best, thank you, MA’AM,” he gasped, “thank you for my Start-As-You-Mean-To-Go-On Beating.” Or indeed SAYM T’GO. “I’ve since spoken to Shagger about your swishing in Terrence’s study,” she said, “but for your further felonies and floggings, I’d be fascinated to find out more. Stay where you are, in the Position, and you can tell us all about them.” So the caning wasn’t quite concluded, and it was simply studied sadism, in order to maximise his mental misery. His personal demon reminded him how he often did the same. “Yes, Ma’am,” he muttered, “we’ll start with lunch.”
Big Ben had struck for 1pm when he continued down the long, dark cold corridors. Finally, he reached the double doors.
Duty Canteen Supervisor
Reginald Beesting
So it was a Quiet Canteen, which might make matters easier, he mused? Or more difficult, as he stepped inside, and saw the teacher standing by the starters. “May I have everyone’s attention,” he said into the silence, “since we have here Wanker Boy Will, for one week’s worth of rustication….” he saw several signs of shock, but there was no speech, “….his offence being the avoidance of a Sex Thrashing, although not wilfully so….” good of Reggie to add the rider, since it would ease his pain of unpopularity from the floozy fraternity, “….he will be on a special timetable, so many of you will make his acquaintance….” he smiled, “….let’s hope for his sake he hasn’t made too many enemies….” fat chance, “….take your place in line, bad boy.” Hell….he’d have to queue, something he hadn’t needed to do for a year, since prefects traditionally pushed in at the front.
“So I took a tray, and selected some starters, Ma’am,” he said, “then it was my main course, with dessert. I chose a table well out of the way, and anyway nobody seemed at all anxious to sit with me. I managed to avoid making any sound when sitting, albeit an effort following my first flogging, since the really rough raised ridges are always worse with a raw rear. It was a miserable meal, since I spent most of the time worrying about what was to follow. I’d been able to inspect my special timetable at my leisure, and it didn’t make fun reading. In addition to both The Dreadful Griffin and Angular Angela, The SS had set me down for a session of Swimming in Lesson 6. At least there wasn’t any uniform requirement, since as you know, all studs swim starkers. Even so, there was a nasty sting-in-the-tail, which we’ll reach presently. Eventually, the Canteen Monitor appeared at my elbow.”
“You can sodding well stay where you are when you’ve finished, Shanks,” said Sepia Celia, “since studs shouldn’t sneak out of their swishings, no matter what the circumstances.” He opened his mouth and shut it quickly, aware it would be one whack a word in the Quiet Canteen. As she ambled away, he wondered why she was worried? She’d been one of The Six Virgins in dorm 6V, and firmly on the shelf until relatively recently. He suspected her of being vitriolic vanilla, in addition to a shrinking violet….with everything each entailed.
“I know it’s difficult regaling these accounts without adding to your agonies,” she said, “since you’ve already achieved five Disrespectful References, and various Vulgarities. So we’ll simply say six of the best onto your beat sheet to cover all eventualities.” Very reasonable. “Thank you, Ma’am,” he replied, “anyway, I finished my food, and stacked all the débris onto the tray. Then I waited whilst the Canteen emptied. Clearly, sodding Celia Harris had set me up to be Last Out, and thus likely late in Lesson 5.”
Still he sat quietly, and according to the Canteen clock it was 1.47pm when the remaining scholars left hurriedly. “Well….Wanker Boy Will,” said Regular Beating, “beware the lovely Lady scorned, since Sepia Celia’s passed me your particularly pert and punishable posterior on a plate….” the same sentiment, it seemed, “….for what it’s worth, you were always onto a hiding to nothing….” so to speak, “….as Gertrude had already asked me to ensure you were late for her lesson. Stand up….” he duly did so, “….a tight and taut tush, with those nice new Knackerpants. Bare your bottom, bad boy.”
He lowered them, his knees knocking whilst his willy waved wildly. “Three more for the usual reason,” he said, “we’ll say staccato style in threes, so I suggest you grit your teeth firmly, otherwise it may be many more. I shall state the cut count on your behalf. As for contrition at the close, you may write it onto my beat sheet, as is usual for culpable canees in the Quiet Canteen.” He nodded and took a deep breath, knowing how difficult it would be to stay silent at this stage.
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Yeeee..HEEE..EEEE, he yelped mentally, every sinew screaming. “Which is three,” said the teacher, “do try to stand still, since your knobbly knees are knocking….unless you were wanting one more whack for Incitement?” He shook his head, and held them hard with his hands. “If you hadn’t already heard,” he said conversationally, “you were set up by Terrence. He wanted to whack your particularly pert and punishable posterior again before you left school….” as sodding Shagger had said, “….and during discussions, so did several Staff….” ohh, “….thus, he was rooting around for a rusticational reason. Shagger certainly sourced one, but even if he hadn’t done so, something else would surely have sufficed. If only you’d volunteered a vapulation for a Saturday Apocryphal Schoolboy session, all this unpleasantness might have been avoided. However, I accept they appeal much more to subbies and switches.” So a sledgehammer to crack a nut….ouch….maybe not the best turn of phrase? He gritted his teeth again.
“I suppose I should sign myself up for an Apocryphal Schoolgirl session soonest,” mused The Green Goddess, “in case he’s getting other ideas. But honestly, you ought to be flattered….a famous floggable fanny. Shagger’s neat little bottom is legendary, but not necessarily unique.”
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Yeowww..OWW..WOW, he gasped mentally. “There’s your six strokes, done and dusted, Wanker Boy Will,” said Regular Beating, “you’re down for one of my lessons one day next week, when I’ll be highly happy to hit your hiney hard….” wonderful, with one of the best beaters in the business, “….arise….” slowly, he stood. Ahhh….uhhh, he moaned silently as he raised his Knackerpants, “….and here’s my clip board, plus pen.” He accepted each.
St Stricktlands School – Staff Beat Sheet for:- Reginald Beesting
Sheet no:-84 School Term and Year:- Summer, LXXXIX
For Staff use only. When all whacks on this sheet have been taken, it should be delivered to the School Secretary so that the punishments thereon may be transcribed onto the scholar’s Discipline Report. Please write neatly and legibly, otherwise penalties may be applied.
“I saw from the sheet number how much discipline he’d dished,” he said, “and it was pretty impressive. I glanced down, and he’d headed the hits. Amazingly enough, there’d been no other infractions during this lunch hour….so all scholars had successfully stayed silent.”
4. Quiet Canteen:
5. Shanks, William, Dorm 6X - Last Out: 3, BBBB: 3, Total: 6.
6. Thank you for swishing me so soundly, Sir. Wanker Boy Will deserved all his discipline.
“I picked up my bag of books, Ma’am,” he said, “and took my tray to the Crockery Collection Cache. It was already obvious from the Canteen clock how my first Detention was already winging its way. I didn’t bother to hurry unduly, since the damage was done. Then I made my way to the Teaching wings, for my first period of purgatory.
Room 218
Taking another deep breath, he opened the door, and stepped inside to see The Dreadful Griffin standing by the blackboard. She smiled widely as he approached. “What time do you call this, Wanker Boy Will?” she purred, with an almost teasing tone. He glanced up at the wall clock, and called it 1.58pm. “I’m sorry to be so late, Ma’am,” he said instead, “but alas I was Last Out at lunch.” She shook her head. “Careless,” she said, “what whacks do you want, since you’re in excess of six minutes late?” He stitched the swishees’ smirk, often offered by culpable canees in class as a prelude to public punishment. It was the one which says wanly, ‘Hell….I know how much my hit hiney will hurt,’ and absolutely apt for the action. “Please, Ma’am,” he said, setting down his bag, “it should be six serious stingers….and a Detention dished.”
She smiled widely, picked up her cane, and flexed it between her fingers. “Lower those nice new taut tight Knackerpants, bad boy,” she said, “and present your particularly pert and punishable posterior….” there it was again? “….you can show your stripes….” he pulled them down, his knobbly knees knocking, with his willy wavering wildly, “….you’ve already failed an erection inspection. It’ll be a nasty nine….exactly as I’d hoped. I always enjoyed dishing your discipline when you were in my English class whilst one of The Boys In Blue….” really? “….even though you never celebrated a VE Day, despite my every encouragement….” what in the world were they? Presumably it was nothing at all to do with Victory in Europe? ….so this will be welcome. Bend over, and we’ll begin your beating, bad boy. It’ll have to be staccato style in threes, although I’d prefer to take things slowly.” So she’d said earlier in Terrence’s study
.
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“Yeeee..HEEE..EEEE….THREE,” he yelped loudly, “thank you, MA’AM.”
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“Yikes..YIKES..YIKES….SIX,” he gasped, “six of your VERY best, thank you, MA’AM.” She stared down at him disconcertingly. “Turn around and face the class,” she ordered, so this would be both PWEP and Schadenfreude. He shimmied on the spot, and it was a sea of smiling faces. We know what you’re getting, said all the eyes, and hope it hurts.
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“Yarooo..OOOO..HOOO….NINE,” he gasped, “a nasty nine, thank you, MA’AM. Thank you for my thorough thrashing, which I DO hope you found therapeutic….ohh,” he added as she stroked his stripes with the stick. “I’ll want a word with you after class,” she said, her voice full of pleasure, “so stay behind.” This didn’t bode well for the likelihood of Lateness into Lesson 6. “Most certainly, Ma’am,” he muttered. “Sort yourself out and select a seat, Shanks,” she said, “you can take an otherwise empty bench, since you’re only with me the once….more’s the pity.” At least it was good to be wanted. “Ahhh….uhhh,” he gasped, before picking up his bag. Then he stepped stiffly away in the classic canee’s gait of guilt: Look At Me, it said to everyone, I’ve Just Been Caned. “Ahhh,” he gasped as he sat down, and as always the really rough raised ridges did their worst after the whacks.
“It was an interesting English lesson, Ma’am,” he said, “since I’d forgotten just how good a teacher she is. My misfortune was to have Wibbly Wobbly Weobley for my A-Level year, and he’s not a patch on her. Still, what’s done is done, and it’s too late now to be bothered about it.” She nodded. “William Wordsworth Weobley,” she agreed, “nothing special I agree, in terms of teaching. So did you report to her at the end, as advertised?” He nodded.
Big Ben was striking for 2.30pm. “Tonight’s Preparation will be a four sheet essay entitled: Why sexism in society is unacceptable: Discuss,” she said, with a wide pout, “All rise.” The bell rang, and the scholars duly did so before quickly packing their books, and retreating rapidly. Quietly, he ambled towards her desk. “Please, Ma’am,” he muttered, “you wanted to see me, Ma’am.” She nodded, as she closed her own bag. “Kindly hand in your Prep to me on Sunday morning instead of next week,” she said, “I’m in study 7 on Level 1. Be there starkers at ten o’clock….” she licked her lips, “….although I really mean six minutes past the hour. Do you know why?”
Not the slightest. “No, Ma’am,” he murmured. “Shagger knows the reason,” she said, “and so do all the other Cunt Casanovas….” he’d have to enquire, “….I’d like to show you a few things, which you may or may not enjoy, some of which he’s seen already….and survived.” He shivered. “If sodding Shagger can manage, Ma’am,” he muttered, “I expect I will as well.” She smiled widely. “Such arrogant ignorance,” she said, “actually it’s quite endearing….but high time you were taken down. Bare your bottom, and bend over again. This time though, we CAN take it gently. There was one whack from earlier, since you still haven’t learned your lesson about Sarcasm….” Oops, “….although it WAS thoroughly therapeutic, thanks.” My pleasure Ma’am, as his knobbly knees knocked again.
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“One, thank you, Ma’am,” he said flatly, and just succeeding in claiming canees’ privilege. “Then there’s Sodding Shagger,” she said, “which is a Disrespect Reference, and a Vulgarity.”
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“Ooo….two, thank you, Ma’am,” he gasped lightly. “You really will have to curb your tongue, Shanks. Otherwise you’ll be ending up with a VERY raw rear over the next few days.”
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“Yeee….three, thank you, Ma’am,” he yelped, “I’m sorry about Sarcasm, and I’ll try to remember respect….ohh….ohh,” he added as again his seat was stroked with the stick. “Off you go,” she said, “you can do your Detention tomorrow evening, and I shall regard it as a favour if you select me as Supervisor. Your eight dozen Lines will be: I am a Dominant dolt who should stimulate his small submissive side.” She winked once, and was away. “Ahhh….uhhh,” he moaned as he raised his Knackerpants again, and followed her out of the room. According to the wall clock, it had been 2.34pm. As he’d suspected, he’d been set up a second time. Terrence had stated he’d need to Explain himself on Wednesday morning, and on present form, he’d be quite correct. He checked his special timetable again
.
Shanks, William, Dorm 6X – Rustication week – Friday afternoon (Prep: English, German)
Lesson 5 Mrs Gertrude Griffin English Room 218
Lesson 6 Miss Angel Angle German Room 104
Lesson 7 Mrs Edith Zippy Swimming PT wing
But a Sunday Special from a slut of her standing was utterly unexpected. He’d have to speak to sodding Shagger about what to expect, but only when they were equals. Otherwise he’d be caned for the crime of Questions….ignorance, in this instance. He’d also HAVE to learn a lot more respect….at least, in public. It wasn’t too far to his next destination.
Room 104
He opened the door, and stepped inside….oo..er, since there were just two words on the blackboard….Strafarbeit für Schenkel. Strafe-work would be the literal translation, but more colloquially it was Punishment. The other noun was a pretty good rendering of his surname. Her hair was bunched backwards in a bun, surely modelled on the mythical Miss Agatha Trunchbull….the horrid harridan from the mainstream movie, Matilda. She too smiled widely as he approached her desk and set down his bag, since it would surely be some stick?
“Sie sind Deutscher Junge….Schenkel?” she asked in clipped tones which promptly put his penis pulsing. “Ja, Herrin,” he replied, since he certainly HAD been a German garçon. Clearly, she was another damn’ Domme, but then St Sticks was stuffed with them….so to speak. “Sehr gut,” she said, “und SEHR spät….was bedeutet das?” Obviously he was VERY late, and what it meant was equally so. “Bitte, Herrin,” he said into the silence, “Es sollten sechs Schläge für mich sein….” six of the best for him….what else? “….und natürlich auch eine Haft.” Definitely a dished Detention.
She collected her cane, and flexed it firmly between her fingers. “Senken Sie Ihre Knackerpants,” she said sternly, “und bilden den Wilkel.” Beware of what you wish for, he reflected. He’d wondered what it would be like to form the angle for her, and now he was finding out. “Ein besonders frecher und strafbarer Hintern….” she said, to several sniggers. Alas the translation lost the alliteration, but it was essentially the same as The Headmaster’s earlier assertion, “….drei auf einmal.” So essentially staccato style in threes.
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“Yeeee..HEEE..EEEE….DREI,” he yelped loudly, “danke, HERRIN.” Thank YOU, Mistress.
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“Yarooo..OOO..HOOO….SECHS,” he yelped loudly, “sechs der besten, danke HERRIN.” Six of the best, but at least his cries of posterior pain needed no translation. “Aufstehen,” she ordered, and he arose. “Ohh….ohh,” he moaned as she prodded his pulsing penis, “acht Zoll erotischen Genuss….” eight inches of erotic enjoyment, “….durch Schlagen belästigt werden....noch drei Schläge,” Being Bothered By Beating....and Three More. “UGHHH,” he moaned as she reached between his legs with the crook of the cane, and automatically he bent over again.
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“Yeowww..OWWW..WOWW….NEUN,” he gasped, “eine böse neun, danke HERRIN. Danke für all meine Strafe.” Hopefully, this was all….unless she fancied finding further felonies for flogging? “Stehen, Schenkel….und setzen Sie sich schnell, auf einer leeren Bank,” she ordered, with added alliteration in another language. “Ahhh….uhhh,” he moaned as he raised his Knackerpants. Then he picked up his bag, and looked quickly for an otherwise empty bench. He offered the class the classic canees’ gait of guilt, and also the swishees’ smirk as he braved the sea of smiling faces. “Ahhh,” he gasped as he sat down, and again the really rough raised ridges reminded him of his raw rear.
“I don’t remember the rest of the lesson, Ma’am,” he said, “since I spent most of it Leching Longingly Like A Loser. However, I was able to hold my own during the conversations….” even if he wasn’t able to….well, hold his own, “….finally, I heard Big Ben striking for a quarter past three, and the bell rang. I hadn’t expected to get away on time….and I didn’t do so. She’d previously set everyone’s Prep except mine, since apparently it was to be different.”
“Alle aufstieg,” she said, “Schenkel….kommen Sie hier.” The class all rose, packed their bags of books, and duly departed. Again, he ambled up to her desk as ordered. Then he waited for an agonizingly long time until she finished sorting herself out….presumably on purpose? “I daresay you can’t do my Detention tomorrow evening,” she said, reverting to English, “on the assumption Gertrude got in first….?” he nodded, “….so mine’s Monday. As regards your personal Prep, here’s something special. It’s a Vokabelverzeichnis….” vocabulary list, “….which I’d like you to learn….and then you can report to my study for a second Sunday Special….” really? “….to see how much you’ve achieved….” she licked her lips, “….I imagine the afternoon’s still free?”
Again, he nodded. “It would be my personal penance, Ma’am,” he said slowly, “with plenty of posterior pain for failure.” Perhaps plus penile pleasure with pussy? “So we’ll say two o’clock, Wanker Boy Will,” she said, “at study 7 on Level 4 in the Staff wing.” She strutted out of the room, whilst he undressed her with his eyes. He’d always fancied her furiously during morning assembly, and now was his chance. Then he departed towards the locker area. Afterwards, it would be a long trek to the PT wing, and obviously he’d be well in excess of six minutes late again.
“I located locker № 80, and deposited my bag of books, Ma’am,” he said, “then eventually reached the Swimming changing room. It was otherwise empty, with everyone already in the pool. Quickly, I stripped off, but still folding my clothes neatly. Then I discovered the sting-in-the-tail, which I mentioned to you before.”
Belatedly, he realized The SS had put him with one of the 4th forms. Thus this was all going to be even more horrendously humiliating….obviously as intended. Idly, he Strayed up one of the hanging pleasingly pleated brown skirts. It was one of the rare occasions when it was possible without the whacks. So whose was it, as he looked at the label. Karen Eis….the dead-clever dark-haired damsel who cultivated a crisp kind of snappy sexiness. HOW he’d love to have an hour alone with her in a No Tell hotel when she was sixteen. With a slight smile, he ducked down, and then up inside it. “Uhhh,” he moaned as he inhaled her choice cunt scent.
So whose was on the next peg? Yes….Kelly Morgan. “Uhhh,” he repeated his indecent actions. “When you’ve finally finished your filthy fun, Shanks….” said a vixen’s voice, “ohh….ohh,” he moaned, as a hand petted his punished posterior, “….simple Straying is six strokes, however holding your head in such an intimate area is almost akin to Pathetic Panty Perversion, which is worth a dozen due….twice over….” oops, “….although my action wasn’t properly professional, since I didn’t ask your permission first for a fondle. So as a quid pro quo, we’ll simply say you Spied separately,” very fair, “….I’ll meet you inside.” Then Mississippi padded away in her black work-wear.
The Referee’s regalia was a warm woolly, with a seriously skimpy red-hot pair of hot pants, plus plimsolls….which was why he hadn’t heard her sneaking up on his sins. Surely, as he splashed through the foot-wash, she’d make a wonderful Miss Whiplash? OMG….it was COLD, but a foretaste of what was to follow. The water temperature was set at 70ºF, but felt like 40ºF. Indeed, there were always rumours about icebergs being sighted in the deep end. Shivering slightly, he padded into the pool area. She was standing sternly at the deep end, with the class swimming between the sides….PEEP went her whistle.
He padded towards her, knobbly knees knocking and willy wavering wildly all the way. Was it like this on the long road to the gallows? “Stop swimming soonest….” she ordered, whilst waiting for them to reach dry land, “….here’s your treat. We’ve Wanker Boy Will….a rusticated prefect, for fun and frolics….” this didn’t sound good, “….he’s seriously late, so we’ll start with six strokes. Bend over for the benefit of the Brownie Babes and boys….staccato style in threes. A particularly pert and punishable posterior….” what was this, a running gag? “….which has clearly borne the brunt of beating.”
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“Yeeee..HEEE..EEEE….THREE,” he yelped loudly, “thank you, MA’AM.”
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“Yeouch..OUCH..OUCH….SIX,” he gasped, “thank you, MA’AM. Alas, I was unavoidably detained….” on reflection, wit wasn’t wanted. “Which counts as Omission of contrition, Shanks,” she said, primly, “so one more whack….and we’ll discuss Detention a little later. But what about any other crimes you could confess?” He took a deep breath. “It was Spying Up Skirts, Ma’am,” he said, “The Ice Maiden’s, and The Pirate’s in the changing rooms, Ma’am.” But why was his wavering willy going into overdrive?
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“Yarooo..OOO..HOO….NINE,” he gasped loudly, “thank you, MA’AM.”
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“Yeouch..OUCH..OUCH….TWELVE,” he gasped, “a dozen due, thank you, MA’AM….and further flogging for the usual reason please, Ma’am.”
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“Yeowww..OWW..WOW….THIRDEEN,” he gasped, “thank you so much, MA’AM.”
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“YIKES….FOURDEEN,” he shouted, “a forceful fourdeen, thank you, MA’AM….” formerly a sinful sixteen, “….I’m so sorry for all my sins….OHH,” he added as again his seriously sore stripes were stroked with the stick. “In you get, Shanks,” she said, “it will cool off your hot bot….” very good, “….then we’ll have Eis and Morgan show you some Sharks….fitting for such felonies.” He dived in athletically, and surfaced in the centre, treading water. It was like the sailor who’d survived the sinking ship, but was still sunk….so to speak.
Then he saw two brown shapes swimming towards him underwater. “Ahhh….Ahhh….” he gasped as his nuts were knackered neatly, “….ughhh,” he spluttered as he was sucked under by his scrotum. “Serves you right, Shanks,” said Karen Eis in some sort of seductive soprano, after he’d struggled to the surface again, “….another time you can do mine with me in them, Shanks,” added Kelly Morgan. When he’d finished coughing, they’d dived again and disappeared back to the side.
“I think you should consider making a proper penance with these two innocent young Ladies, Shanks,” she said, “so I suggest Voluntary Victim nights with both their dorms this evening. You should be able to achieve successive split slots with the Knackies and The h♀♀kers.” He shook his head. “I’m already spoken for, Ma’am,” he replied, “but might I suggest Saturday….starting after Detention Class.” She smiled sweetly, “Which would work well, Shanks,” she agreed, “with about an hour in each.”
“Obviously I’m going to be busy, Ma’am,” he said, “anyway, we spent the next quarter hour swimming, and then Mississippi blew her whistle again.”
PEEP “…it’s always been my practice, Shanks,” she said, when all were assembled in a long line, “….to pick on prefects previous and present….” also new nax, “….I invite them to make an exquisite exhibitionistic entrance, with Walk The Plank….” oo..er, yes, MA’AM, “….I suppose it’s particular pertinent with The Pirate’s presence….” as usual, wit was fine by a teacher, “….this will try to take you down to Davy Jones’ Locker….” she held up a 7lb diving brick, “….so hopefully you’re a strong swimmer.” In the circumstances, so did he. “Ohh,” he moaned as she tied it tightly to his testicles by a pink Rope Of Rack And Ruin. “The elasticized cord is a little less long than the depth of water….Wanker Boy Will….” she said, as several sluts and studs sniggered, “….so after you’ve jumped, you should strike straight out for the shallows….” she handed him the brick, “….take your Cross, and follow me….” very biblical, as he padded after her obediently, “….now up the steps, to the highest diving board.”
Easier said than done, since he had to climb the ladder left-handed. As he reached the top, he was acutely aware of all eyes on him. Tentatively, he took two steps forward. “Throw it in,” she called out imperiously, “and follow quickly.” He stood on the very end, in evident erectile excitement. For the very first time, he felt good about all eyes upon him. What would it be like to edge endlessly? Was this the start of a slippery slope into exhibitionism? Almost disdainfully, he dropped the brick….splash. Still he waited several more seconds, parading his pulsing penis like a peacock. “AYEEEEE….” he shouted as his scrotum was suddenly stretched, “….Geronimo.”
Finally, he hurled himself off into the abyss….SPLASHH. He struggled back to the surface, even as the brick continued its journey into the depths. “Ughhh….AHHH,” he spluttered as he was pulled back underneath, as the Rope Of Rack And Ruin still stretched his scrotum. “AHHH….ughhhh….AHHH,” he gasped again and again as he struck out for safety. The brick bumped slowly uphill along the pool floor, and it was terribly tough on his tormented testicles. Even though, he was still enjoying sight of the standing scholars, all staring down at him. Several studs’ shafts were straining, and some sluts were stroking themselves where they shouldn’t.
