Tuesday 20 December 2011

Tom's School Days 13

Here it is, the next instalment of Tom's story. This will be the last one for this year, but I will be back in 2012, with Tom, Stephanie, Amanda, and all the rest. Take care, be kind to yourselves, have a very merry Christmas, Dear Readers.


'Stand up, my dear,' John said, and Tom watched in stunned amazement as Stephanie rose to her feet. Despite the situation she did it with grace, as if her body naturally expressed a knowledge that she was worth looking at. She let her arms hang by her side and made no effort to cover herself.


'I thought...' Tom stammered.

'Ah, you thought that you had locked the door and no one would bother you?'

'I suppose,' he replied.

'Thing is, Tom, it is Tom, isn't it? that you forgot something.'

'Oh!'

'There is a slate in the common room where you write down when you take the key to the Tower. Writing your name makes us know it is occupied. No one will disturb you. As it is, the Tower could have been empty.'

'Drat!' Stephanie whispered.

'Furthermore,' John, said, 'there is no note about you taking somewhere there, either.'

'I am really sorry,' Tom said.

'As you should be.'

'What will happen now?'

'Don't worry, Tom, this is a minor infringement, no need for a punishment.'

'Oh, thank you, I won't do it again.'

'I am sure you won't.'


Then silence fell. John stood looking at Stephanie, a smile on his face, his eyes burning. Stephanie was standing, erect, proudly, still very naked. Tom, on the other hand, was slowly rising from the armchair.


'The girl, on the other hand,' John said, and Tom turned to Stephanie who turned to him, their eyes meeting for a brief and worried moment.

'What about Miss Burns?' Tom said.

'I'll come to that,' John said, 'but first something more pleasurable. Turn around.'

Stephanie turned slowly. Tom say John raise his eyebrows as her bottom came into view.

'It's the talk of the school, you know. You do have a talent for this.'

'Well, thank you,' Tom felt how he blushed.


There were still marks on Stephanie's bottom, although her bottom had started to heal.


'God was in a good mood, when he created you,' John said, still smiling, as Stephanie turned her face towards him again. 'But you being here calls for a punishment.'

'But surely,' Tom said, 'it's not her fault that I forgot to write it down.'

'No, but that doesn't matter.'

'Doesn't it?'

'No, this calls for a punishment.'

Stephanie remained silent throughout.

'I think,' John continued, 'that this bottom is not yet fit for a proper punishment. I think we will have to think of something else.'

'What could that be?' Tom asked. He felt that he was responsible for the whole thing and should try to make it as easy for Stephanie as possible.

'The only thing I can think of is that Miss Burns join the Pea Soup Society.'

'The Pea Soup Society!?'

'You know what it is, don't you?'

'Yes, yes, of course.'

'She has the body for it, it will be a delight. You know we have Soup Night, coming up?'

'Yes, I know.'



Friday 16 December 2011

Car Trip


And now a short break in the ongoing story about Tom and his girls. I will be back with next instalment soon, but this is a short something I just wrote. I publish it here, warts and all.


It was a hot day, and I had to stand in the sun while I was waiting for him. I had dressed for the day, but it didn't really help. I felt too clothed for the weather, yet I was still wearing a bit too little for being quite appropriate while being seen. My sleeveless and striped top was tight, too tight, really. And my shorts were too small. I felt silly, and wondered why had taken them. I knew why. I knew I had done it because I knew he liked it that way. That was rather kind of me.


'Get in the car,' he said, as he stopped beside me. My heart had started beating the moment I saw him approach. He smiled. I smiled too, and suddenly I was excited about going away with him.


He didn't say much as he took us through the crowded street of the city centre. He looked at me from time to time and smiled. I became quite self conscious about him looking at me, at the same time it was not altogether an awkward sensation.


'Take your knickers off,' he said, suddenly.

'Here?'

'Unless you would prefer I stop the car and you step out.'

'We're still in the middle of town.'

'I know.'

'And I am wearing shorts.'

'And...?'


I knew that look on his face. He meant what he said. I wasn't exactly scared of it, but I knew he was determined to have me do as I was told. There was a certain inevitability about it. It made my heart race.


He had had me do the same before, but that time I was wearing a skirt. It was much easier then.


I looked at him, again, and knew I would soon be sliding my shorts down my legs. I started by unbuttoning them. I looked around and thought that I could delay it a little, wait for a less crowded street, a place where he would drive the car in a little bit higher speed.


When I knew I had already waited to long, I began wriggling them down my hips, and had got them to my knees when he stopped. There was a red light. People were standing to the side, waiting to walk across in front of the car.


'Go on,' he said, smiling.

I slipped my shorts down and took them off. I waited a little, for the light to turn green.

'You don't want to take too long with that,' he said. And I knew exactly what he meant.


I lifted my bottom and pulled my knickers down, at the same moment as the car gained speed.


'In the glove compartment,' he said, and I knew he meant my knickers. I was somehow relieved I didn't have to throw them out of the window.


'What are you doing?' he said, as I reached for the shorts.

'Putting my shorts back on.'

'Did I say that you could?'

'You didn't say I couldn't.'

'Putting them on is dressing.'

'I suppose you are right.'

'And you know what the rules are for dressing.'

'Always ask permission.'

'Right.'

'Can I put my shorts on, please?'

'No.'

'We're in the middle of town, and this car is moving very slowly.'

'The answer is no.'

'Please.'

'Don't cross your legs!'

'Please!!'

'Keep them parted, instead.'


He put his hand on my thigh at the same time as I cautiously parted my legs, just a little. He turned to me and smiled.


'Look at the road,' I said.

He chuckled, and let his hand move up my thigh, and then down, on the inside.

'People will be looking,' I said.

'The women will be envious, and the guys will be envious too.'


I found it hard to comment, as his hands moved up the inside of my thigh. I looked up and saw him looking forward, smiling. Then I heard myself gasp as his fingers moved inside. I held my breath as I felt his fingers begin to snake and move.


'You do like this,' he said.

'No.'

'Don't lie to me, you know what happens when you lie.'

'I am not lying.'

'Some part of you likes it.'


Occasionally he retrieved his hand to change gear, but it always returned to its place. Sometime he just kept his fingers still, and sometimes he moved them about. I never knew what would happen next.


I didn't want to give in to the fire his intruding fingers lit. I looked out of the window, trying to focus on the road signs, on the people on the street, or how the buildings around us were constructed.


'There is something in the back seat. It's for you,' he said.

'I'll look at it later,' I replied.

'Don't sulk.'

'I'm not sulking.'

'Look at it.'


I turned round to reach for the plastic bag that was lying on the back seat. He didn't remove his hand, and I got the distinct impression that anyone standing by the road would get a very good look at what was happening.


'You are embarrassing me,' I hissed, as I sat back.

'Yes, I know. I like that. Open the bag now.'


I opened the bag. In it was a leather object. A handle, covered in braided leather, that softened into a short braided tongue, that got thinner and thinner towards the tip. It was a robust thing, quite short, and didn't look like anything I had seen before. I had no doubt, though, that it was some kind of whip.


'A quirt,' he said, 'I have bought you a quirt.'

'And I assume that it is not mine in the sense of me using it?'

'Of course not. I am going to use it,' he said, and smiled, '...on you.'

'What have I done?'

'Nothing much, really. I just wanted to use it.'

'It looks harsh.'

'I think it will be. I am looking forward to it.'

He moved his fingers inside me, and I jumped. The whip, being half naked, his fingers, all seemed to conspire to send a wave of something pleasant, although quite unwelcome through my body.

'You are looking forward to it too.'

'I'm not.'

'Yes, you are.'

'Don't be daft.'

'Truth to be told, if you like it too much, it's not the same.'

'Don't worry, this one looks mean.'

I held the dreaded thing, still in my hands.

'Take your top off now.'

'I can't do that.'

'Maybe this will be a good pretext for using it. The quirt on your soft bottom for disobedience.'


I looked around and found that we had come up on the highway. The cars moved faster, and were further away, but not far enough for other drivers not to notice if I was wearing a top of not.


'Should I really take my safety belt off?'

'You could always try without taking it off.'

'That's awkward.'

'Your choice.'

'I have no bra.'

'Yes, I know.'


I managed, somehow, to extract my top from my body, without taking the safety belt off. As I sat back, I felt the coarse fabric of it pass between my breasts. I looked out through the window. I didn't think the oncoming traffic would have time to notice too much, they were far away, but the ones we passed and those who passed us would surely notice.


'Do you enjoy it?' he said.

'Enjoy what?'

'This.'

'Being naked in your car, on a public road, while you have your fingers inside me, knowing that I will taste a brand new whip in a not too distant future?'

'Yes.'

'I am embarrassed.'

'That's not what I asked for.'

'If I enjoy it?'

'Yes. I know you are embarrassed, I know you are a bit apprehensive about the quirt. I know you are awkward, but do you enjoy it?'

'Do I have to answer that?'

'Yes, please, do answer.'


I sat for a while, staring out through the window. His fingers were not still, and stayed longer now when there was less need to change gear. I held it back, but those fingers were very persistent. There would come a moment when I no longer wanted to hold back, when I wanted to go forward, when I would beg him to let me go forward.


'Yes, I enjoy it.'




Wednesday 14 December 2011

Tom's School Days 12

My ambition is to post an instalment of Tom's story once a week, but now it is almost two weeks. I am very sorry for that. Anyway, here is the twelfth part of the story. No floggings, but some other things, perhaps, that may cheer you up in the darkness of winter, unless you are antipodean and then you are in the middle of summer and need no cheering up, at least not on behalf of the season. Never mind.


'No bed,' Stephanie said and looked around, 'we'll have to manage without.' She smiled. 'Take that armchair.'

Tom sat down in one of the armchairs, looked around in amazement at the room, and then turned his gaze at Stephanie, who hadn't joined him, but remained standing.

'What are we doing here?' Tom asked, 'really?'

'You are really sweet,' Stephanie replied and began unbuttoning her white shirt, 'you know that, don't you?'

'If someone comes?' Tom gasped but could not stop staring at Stephanie, as she was done with the unbuttoning, and slipped the shirt from her shoulders.

'You locked the door.'

'If there is another key?'

'I don't think there is another key.'

'Think?'

'Don't worry,' she said and slipped her bra from her.

'Perhaps,' Tom stammered, 'perhaps it doesn't matter.' Tom's eyes were fixed on Stephanie's bosom that was now fully on display. He didn't express it in words but his eyes told her that hers was the most glorious bosom he had ever set his eyes on.


Encouraged by the light in his eyes, she stood for a while and let herself be admired. Had she ever doubted her beauty Tom's reaction made it clear to her that she had the ability to impress.


Still smiling she slipped off her skirt and her knickers. Tom blushed and stared, fighting with an impulse that told him that it wasn't quite proper to fix his eyes on certain parts of Stephanie's anatomy in the way he did.


The now quite nude Stephanie approached Tom and knelt before him. He had a vague idea in his head that he should protest as her hands reached out to release his member. There was no protest, no argument, when she proceeded to embrace his proud warrior with her lips.


Quite soon, Tom, had completely stopped thinking of reasons why he should not enjoy the attention given to his friend, and the fact that he had a completely naked Stephanie to look at.


It was in this moment of bliss disaster struck. The timing was terrible. Tom was just about to reap the fruits of Stephanie's labour when the door was flung open.


'What have we here?' a mocking voice boomed.

'No!' Tom cried out in agony.

'Hell!' Stephanie whispered the moment her lips were free to form words.


Tom turned towards the voice and saw that it belonged to John, a member of the Mushy Peas Club, a senior of Tom's, and a friend of Mark's. The moment he got hold of the situation he sat himself bolt upright and tried desperately to replace his attentive warrior in his trousers.


Stephanie had in the meantime begun to move towards her clothes that lay in a heap on the floor.


'No, stay where you are,' John said, and Stephanie did. She remained on her knees, although her hands moved to cover herself.


'Don't do that, my dear,' John said, 'I don't mind the privilege of resting my eyes on your assets.'

'My assets,' Stephanie hissed under her breath.




Friday 2 December 2011

Tom's School Days 11


I know, I have taken a lot of time with this instalment. The story is there, but I just haven't had time to post...or something. Anyway, I have put in a picture to cheer you up, completely unconnected to the story, but does anyone care?


'If I can help you, of course,' Tom said, wondering what Amanda had in mind.

'That would be a blast.'

'What club is this?'

'Oh, it's kind of new, you've probably never heard of it. We are only five members, yet. It's called The Society for the Study of Geographical Maps.'

'Oh.'

'Yes.'

'Maps?'

'Kind of,' she said, and smiled in a way that made Tom curious. 'We even have a small place in the Dungeon, and we meet on Tuesdays. Please come on our next meeting.'


The Dungeon was the student's name for the basement. The school had an extensive basement, with cellars for wine and archives, and all sorts of storage. There were also a number of rooms that were used for clubs and societies that had no permanent place to reside.


'If you want me to,' Tom said, feeling quite stupid, a little vexed, believing he had been tricked into something he had no desire to do.

'You won't regret it,' Amanda said with that smile on her face that seemed to suggest that she had something in mind. 'Thank you, thank you, you are such a biscuit.'

'Biscuit?'

'Girl language,' she said and giggled.

She put her arms around him, kissed him on his cheek. Then she stopped, seemed to hesitate, only to plant a kiss on his lips. She withdrew, blushing. When he turned to her, she stood up.

'Thank you, again. See you in Tuesday.'

She dashed off.


The next day was Friday, and as Tom was walking across the quad in the sunshine, just after lunch, Stephanie caught up with him.

'You are free now,' she said. It wasn't a question, it was a statement.

'Yes, until two.'

'Me too.'

'Are you?'

'Yes. We have a whole hour we can do whatever we want with.'

'Whatever we want?'

'Yes. You are in the Club now, aren't you?'

'Yes,' Tom replied, hesitating.

'It means you have access to the key to the Tower, right?'

'Yes, I suppose.'

'Get it, and meet me outside the door.'

She rushed away.


The Tower was really a tower, and it stood at the corner of the Annexe, the building where the Mushy Peas Club had their rooms. It was locked but with the key you could go there and take someone with you, someone you wanted to spend sometime alone with.


Tom got the key, and found Stephanie at the door. The key was heavy and big and made Tom think of medieval times. The Tower wasn't that old, but built to make you believe it could be from the Middle Ages.


Inside he locked the door behind them and they both climbed the winding stair to the top. They passed some doors leading to chambers on the way, but they headed for the topmost room.


It was circular, and had windows in all directions. The floor was made of grey flagstones, in the same colour as the stone walls. The chamber looked ancient, but was well kept and clean. A dinner table with six high backed wooden chairs stood to the side, and beside one window could be found a sofa, two armchairs, and a low table.



Tuesday 22 November 2011

Tom's School Days 10

The story goes on, and you will find it takes another direction here. I hope there will be things still that you will find interesting.

Tom tried his best to focus on his school-work. It was not easy. His mind was spinning with all thoughts that struggled for room there. Who would volunteer for whipping practice? Why wasn't Stephanie angry with him? Why did Amanda want to meet him?

The afternoon was almost free of lectures, and he spent most of the time in the Club common room, where he stared at the two rows of knickers hanging on the wall. He could still see the ones he had taken from Amanda. It seemed like a long time ago.

He spoke for a while with Frederick, and another member, called Ian. They told him that his dealings with Stephanie was the news around school, and that the rumour said he had conducted himself well, and that they were proud of him. Tom was chuffed.

After dinner, he sneaked away into the Garden. The Garden was an area where students and staff were allowed to grow vegetables and flowers. The ones interested in that could apply for an allotment and could do almost whatever they wanted with it.

Some of the staff had had their plots for a long time and had grown trees and hedges, making the Garden to a veritable maze, with secluded corners with stone benches where people used to meet for all sorts of activities.

Tom went to the southern part, where there was an open space, with a lawn. It was there people met up, if they had not decided on a particular spot to meet.

Amanda was already there, standing below a very naked marble statue of an ancient god that Tom thought was Mars. Nudity embarrassed him, and although the sight of unclad girl's bottoms made him blush there were some benefits. A naked marble man had nothing to recommend itself and only made him feel awkward. Maybe it was different if I had been a girl.

The fact that Amanda Tilly was standing below the statue seemed to make it even more shamefully nude.

'You came,' she said, smiling.
'Yes, I was curious.'
'Curious about me?'
'Well, curious,' he said and blushed to a deeper red.
'I think it means you feel the same affinity I do. Come,' she said and took his hand.

She led him into the maze of paths and hedges. They sat down on a stone bench, side by side.

'I love to come here,' Amanda said, smiling, looking a little nervous. 'It is very peaceful.'
'Yes, very.'
'There is one thing I wanted to ask you.'
'Yes?'
'You see, if you don't mind,' she said, and looked a little worried, 'well, it's like this. You see, there is this club, we are just a few girls. It's kind of new. We would need a little help, and it would be such a blast if you would join, I mean, to help out with the things we can't do ourselves. You see, we are a little lost on our own.'
Tom felt awkward, wondering if they wanted him to lift something that was heavy, or do something other that they thought girls couldn't do. He was also a little disappointed, thinking that perhaps, Amanda liked him a little.



Thursday 17 November 2011

Tom's School Days 9

I know you had to wait for this instalment of the story. I can only apologise and hope for leniency. Never mind, here it is, the continuation of the story of Tom and his adventure in school.

After breakfast the next day Tom and Stephanie went together to Mr Allen's office. Tom's heart was beating hard. The sole reason for that was not just his fear of the tutor's assessment of his handiwork, it was also due to the fact that Stephanie had pushed him into a corner, slipped her hand down his trousers, wrapped her hand around his manhood, stared him into the eyes, and then planted a kiss on his lips.
'I wanted to know what you feel about me,' she said, as she stepped back, leaving Tom with a sense of surprise, shock, and missed opportunities.

In Mr Allen's office they both stood nervously in front of his desk.
'Ah, the unfortunate Miss Burns. I gather Mr Banks here helped you with your punishment.'
'Yes, sir, he did. In my opinion, he did it well.'
'What a pity it is not for you to decide that, Miss Burns. It is not your place to even have an opinion, is it?'
'No, Mr Allen, sorry, Mr Allen.'
'Shall we see then?'
'Yes, sir.'

Stephanie promptly pulled her knickers down to her knees. This time they were green. She turned her back to Mr Allen, pulled her skirt up, and leaned forward. Tom blushed.

'Hm,' Mr Allen said, 'hm, again. Well.'
He continued looking at Stephanie's bottom.
'Well...' he said.
'Hm, yes...I say...' he continued.
Then he looked up. Stephanie stayed in place.

'Mr Banks, this is not bad. I hadn't expected you to do so well. I thought, perhaps, you had a soft spot for Miss Burns, and would have let her off too lightly. A pity, in a way, it takes away the need for me to rectify the error. I do take some pleasure in rectifying this kind of errors, you know. You did well, I must say, there are some really good ones here. Come over here!'
'Yes, sir,' Tom said, his voice a little weak.

He moved forward and looked where Mr Allen pointed.
'You see that one, the dark one, across her sweet spot, that one you should be particularly proud of.'
'Thank you, Mr Allen.'
'I am just pointing out the obvious. As you can see on those pinkish ones, there are some that are clearly below standard.'
'I did my best.'
'I am sure you did. I will let the whole matter rest here. No need for extras. I am glad you show such talent for this. But don't be complacent. You are good for an amateur, that is all.'
'Thank you, Mr Allen.'
'We can arrange for some practice.'
'Practice?'
'Yes, I know you get some practice in the Mushy Peas Club, but I am thinking of proper practice. We do arrange sessions for those who want to perfect their skills. Would you be interested?'
'Well, sir, I guess so.'
'Guess so?'
'I mean, sir, I would like that.'
'Good.'
'How, sir, how is it done, the practice?'
'You mean on whom do you practice?'
'Yes, sir.'
'Volunteers, Mr Banks, we practice on volunteers.'
'But, Mr Allen, who would volunteer?'
'You wouldn't believe it, but we have plenty of volunteers.'
'Yes, sir.' Tom was still confused but decided not to continue asking.'
'Miss Burns, you may put your dress in order.'
'Thank you, sir.'
Stephanie turned round, pulled her knickers up. She curtsied and Tom bowed and they left.
'That went well,' she said.
'Do you think so?'
'Of course. You did a cracking job yesterday, I am impressed.'
'Didn't it hurt.'
'Of course it hurt, that's what impressed me.'
'Oh.'


Tuesday 8 November 2011

Tom's School Days 8

I do enjoy writing this story, and maybe it is wrong to drip feed you it, but I like it this way, short instalments, over a period of time. I do like trying to see things from Tom's perspective, an innocent but enthusiastic young man, surrounded by kinky boys, and some quite kinky girls, not to mention the teachers. In this, slightly shorter bit, you get to read the conclusion of Stephanie's punishment.


Around 35 Tom was feeling cruel, but he got on with it. Around 40 he was happy as a cat, and wielded the cane with vigour. He noticed the effect on Stephanie, who once let go of the armrests. She refrained from putting her hands on her bottom. Instead she returned to her position, and the punishment could continue.


When there were just twelve left, he stopped and stared at Stephanie's bottom. It looked terrible, and he was overcome with guilt about what he had done. He had to brace himself and focus, in order not to become too meek.


He delivered the last ones with gusto and when he was done, he was sweaty with exhaustion. The crowd stood in silence for a while, then they applauded. Tom fought back an impulse to turn round, smile, and bow to them. It wasn't appropriate.


'We're done now,' he said.

'I let go of the armrest, shouldn't there be extras?'

'Mr Allen said nothing of that.'

'It is customary.'

Tom felt anger flare up and stared at Stephanie.

'No, I say no, and so shall it be.'

'All right.'

'We are done now,' he said.

'Thank you,' she said and straightened her back. She turned to him, but did not pull her knickers up.

'Do you want to keep these?' she said and pointed to her underwear.

'No, I don't think so.'

'All right,' she said and pulled them up.

'Thank you for punishing me,' she continued.

'You are welcome,' Tom replied.


Stephanie took her skirt and stepped into it, pulled it up and buttoned it.

'What are you staring at, you can go now,' Tom barked at the crowd, who was still staring at the spectacle. They looked at him and began to move away.


Stephanie moved stiffly and when she came close to him, she looked him in the eyes, smiled, and whispered, 'thank you'.


Tom stared back without knowing what to do or say. Stephanie left the room, but before she walked out, she turned to him.

'Remember we have an inspection after breakfast.'

'Inspection?'

'Yes, Me Allen will inspect your work, and you should be there.'

'Oh, I see.' Tom became anxious. What would happen if the punishment was not enough. Then he remembered the sight of Stephanie's bottom. He hadn't been meek.

'I am sorry,' he said.

'Don't be, I deserved it.' She smiled a wicked smile and left.




Monday 31 October 2011

Tom's School Days 7

You may find the pace in this story too slow, but this is the way I have written it, so you just have to wait. Maybe I should interrupt the story with something else? We'll see.


'Maybe I shall get ready,' Stephanie said in a way that Tom understood to be meant as demurely.

He wasn't sure it was, but it had a strange effect on him, anyway.

'Yes, please, do that.'


The crowd fell silent, and Tom had to turn and look to be sure they hadn't gone away. When he turned back to Stephanie he was overcome by a sudden redness of his cheeks, and a dryness in his throat.


Stephanie was not leaning over the chair, which he had expected. Instead she was folding her skirt and putting it to the side.

'I thought it better this way, it will only fall down. Do you have the cane?'

Ye...yes,' he stammered, and went over to his desk and picked up a sturdy cane he had got from the porters lodge.

'Good,' Stephanie said, seemingly still in command of proceedings.


Stephanie turned towards Tom, and waited. Tom said nothing, his gaze was fixed on Stephanie's bare legs.

'Oh, maybe I have to do something about the shirt,' she said, 'it's hanging too low.'

She pulled it up a bit and knotted it in front. Now Tom was not just staring at her legs, but also her very red knickers. The crowd was silent.


Stephanie stood and waited. Tom knew he was supposed to do something.

'This is the moment when you ask if I am ready, and then tell me to prepare myself,' she said and smiled.

'Oh,' he said, hesitated, 'oh, I see. Are you ready?'

'Yes.'

'Please, prepare yourself.'


Without much hesitation, Stephanie took hold of her very red knickers and pulled them down to her knees. There was heard a collective gasp at her action.


She then turned to the chair, leaned over it, grabbed the armrests with her hands, much like Amanda had done, the evening before, but with the difference that Stephanie was not wearing a skirt.


It was time for Tom. He held out the cane, as he moved closer to her. The crowd was still dead silent. Stephanie stood in a way that her bottom was on full display for the eager onlookers. Tom placed the cane against her bottom, pulled it back and let it fly.


There was a sigh from the crowd as the sound of cane against soft skin rang out.

'I think,' Stephanie said, 'that you will have to do better. Mr Allen will inspect me, you know.'


Tom gave her another lash.

'Oh,' she gasped, 'much better, but that one will count as a half in Mr Allen's book.'


Tom was embarrassed and angered by her reproaching him. The next lash was hard and firm, and he heard a gasp, not from Stephanie, but from the audience. The stripe across her buttocks was sharp and red. Stephanie drew herself up, looked to the ceiling, lifted one leg and let out the air in her lungs.

'One,' she said.


Tom continued. He knew now how hard he had to hit for it to be appropriate. He had to brace himself for it and took his time to focus.


The crowd was with him. They gasped, sighed, and cheered when a particularly good one hit home. Stephanie moved her feet, wriggled her body, shook her bottom, threw her hair, and wailed. She counted the strokes out loud.


When they had come to fifteen, Tom was exhausted. He stopped for a while, looked at Stephanie's bottom, which had turned a bright and angry red, then at the audience, noticing that one of the girls in the crowd was the girl called Tamara, whose knickers had caused so much hilarity in the Club common room.


He knew he had to get on with the job. And when he reached twenty, he was again taken by that unusual elation that had swept through him when punishing Amanda Tilly. He got careless and a stroke hit Stephanie's thighs, and the crowd cheered.




Tuesday 25 October 2011

Tom's School Days 6

Tom's got himself into something of a mess, not that I say it necessarily is an unpleasant mess, but still. Read on and you will see what will happen.


The next morning, Tom woke up, shook his head and wondered what had become of his school days. He wondered if it was his membership in the Mushy Peas Club that had changed it. Or was it he, himself, who had changed?


He had been fooling around with the girls before, and especially Stephanie Burns, but she had never before been so keen, or so, Tom was searching for a word,...advanced.


He was nervous about the after dinner treatment he was to bestow upon Stephanie. At the same time he looked forward to it. He walked through the day in a kind of haze, finding it hard to focus on his studies.


He noted also that there was another kind of attention given him, especially from the girls. He blushed fetchingly when some particularly pretty one smiled at him.


When he walked from lunch, he felt someone grab his arm.

'Hello, Mr Tom Banks,' a small voice said by his side.

He turned to the voice and saw that it belonged to the girl he had treated with the cane the evening before. She held his arms and smiled at him.

'Amanda!' he said.

'You remember my name,' she said, and blushed, still smiling.

'I...I am sorry for yesterday,' he stammered.

'Oh, don't be. I was late, you know.'

'Oh, I see. I had never before...you know.'

'You handled it well, then.'

'Did I?'

'Yes, I can still feel it.'

'Sorry.'

'No, that's how it should be.'

'Do you think so?'

'Yes, of course I do,' Amanda said with a slightly dreamy expression on her face. 'Don't you think that there is a very special affinity between a boy and the girl he has whipped?'

Tom felt mean hearing her call it 'whipped'. It was, indeed, a whipping, but Tom thought it reminded him of far more gruesome things.

'So you are not angry with me?'

'No, not at all, you did your duty.'

'Yes, yes,' he said, his voice uncertain, 'I did my duty.'

'I use to take a walk in the garden, after dinner,' she said.

'Oh, I am busy,' he replied before thinking of what he was saying.

'I know, but not every evening.'

'No, no, that's true.'


Amanda left and hurried away. Some distance away, she turned, and smiled and waved to him.


Tom was baffled, but not in an unpleasant way. He liked Amanda. She was very different from Stephanie, smaller, darker, cuter in a way, although Tom had always found Stephanie very beautiful.


Dinner came and Tom was not able to fully appreciate the blandness of the stew and the texture of the overcooked vegetables.


He walked on trembling legs back to his hall of residence. A small crowd had already gathered outside his room. There were mostly boys, for obvious reasons. Only boys were allowed in the boy's hall of residence, unless invited by a resident. Besides Stephanie there were some girls who had, indeed, been invited to watch the spectacle.


'I never knew I was this popular,' Stephanie said as Tom unlocked the door.

'Will you just wait a second, until we can get in?' he shouted above the crowd. They held back a little, although the constant chattering didn't stop.


The audience stared through the doorway as Tom and Stephanie went in. The room was small, and Tom had made sure to put anything private away. He still didn't like the idea of having a lot of people there.


He took his chair, the one by his desk and turned it around. Stephanie stood beside the chair with an expression on her face he couldn't interpret. She didn't look scared, rather amused, or even eager. He was surprised and a little confused.


'Can we come in?' someone said.

'All right,' Tom barked, 'but not too close.'


A dozen or so crammed themselves into the room, the rest gathered in the doorway. They all stared eagerly at Tom and Stephanie.



Tuesday 18 October 2011

Tom's School Days 5

Another instalment of the story of Tom and his experiences in school. I do enjoy writing it, but I can see that this story dominates my blogging at the moment. Please let me know if you get bored by it.


Tom's reaction and actions weren't exactly rational as Stephanie paid lip service to his member who dutifully stood to attention. He knew Stephanie was gifted and very, very attractive, but he was still surprised and even overwhelmed by her skills.


He did very little but gasp and moan and bite his lip. What he did do, included trying desperately to yank down Stephanie's shirt from her shoulders, making her more naked than she was. He wanted more of her, but as it was, she was almost out of reach for him, and he didn't want to interrupt what she was doing.


Everything must end, and this event reached its conclusion, all too soon, but not soon enough for Tom. And as Stephanie was occupied with the after-care of his tired warrior, using both her mouth and hands, Tom was slowly coming back to the realm of the living.


Fortunately, for Tom, Stephanie had just managed to replace what she had released, when disaster struck. A voice resounded through the night.

'What have we here?'

Tom immediately recognised the voice as that of Mr Allen, the History teacher, one of the sterner of the staff. His heart stopped beating, as it seemed.

'We were just talking,' Stephanie, said, and turned to Mr Allen who had appeared out of the shadows. She was still on her knees.

'I do understand you have been using your mouth, my dear, but that doesn't explain the shirt.'

'Oh,' she said and immediately pulled her shirt up and began buttoning it. She rose to her feet, and stood back from the lecturer.


'Mr Allen,' Tom began, 'I can explain...'

'No, need to explain, Tom. It is late, but you are, after all a member of the Mushy Peas Club.'

'But...'

'You, on the other hand,' he said and turned to Stephanie, 'are in breach of the curfew, caught with your dress in disorder, and suspected of inappropriate conduct.'

'I am sorry, sir,' Stephanie whispered, sounding meek.

'You know we have no hesitation in dealing with misdeeds, and that we do not spare the rod. This calls for a punishment, you know that, of course?'

'Of course, sir.'

'I will give you a choice, Miss Burns, and that is between 20 in the yard, or 40 in my rooms.'

In the yard meant that the cane would be applied publicly, in the yard, where a whipping post was set in the ground. It allowed students and staff to watch and was generally considered a great disgrace.

'Oh, please, Mr Allen.'

'Surely you agree that your conduct calls for some disciplining.'

'Yes, sir, I do. But can't Tom do it? Please.'

'Ah, that's an idea,' Mr Allen said, his face lightening up, 'it is not such a bad idea.'

'Please, Mr Allen, Tom can punish me, in his room.'

'Well, why not. If Mr Banks agrees to it.'

'Please, Tom, will you do it?'

Tom was flabbergasted. But Stephanie looked desperate, as if she really wanted it, and she had been very kind to him.

'Yes, sir,' he replied, 'I'll do it.'

'Good. Tomorrow, after dinner, Miss Burns will come to your room, where you will give her 60 strokes with the cane.'

'60?'

'Yes, 60. I will inspect her Friday morning, and I know what to expect. I know what a bottom is supposed to look like after 60 sharp cuts with the cane. You, Tom, will get a cane from the porters lodge.'

'Yes, sir.'

'Is that what you want, Stephanie?'

'Yes, sir.'

'So be it. And you can't do it in private, anyone around will have the privilege of watching. Understood?'

'Yes, sir,' they both said.

'Agreed then, good night.'

'Good night, sir,' they said in unison.

'And, don't forget, always on the bare.'

'No, sir, yes, sir.'