Tuesday, 27 September 2011

Tom's School Days 2

It seems as there is no great opposition against continuing this tale. So I will do that.

'Lean over the chair, please' Mark commanded and the girl let go of a pitiful sigh and leaned over the back of the chair, and grabbed the wooden armrests.

Fred walked over to her and flipped her skirt up. Tom stared at her fair and very naked bottom. Her skin seemed so soft and so thin.

'Now it is your turn to have fun,' Mark said and made a gesture towards the girl.

Tom walked closer and held out the cane. It seemed like a terrible thing to use it on the girl. He moved the cane closer and let it touch her buttocks. She drew her breath and tensed her body, as if he had already hit her.

'Get on with it now, she's waiting,' Fred said.

Tom pulled back the cane and hesitated, then he let it fly. He was surprised by the sound, the hissing sound of the cane through the air and then the sharp report when it hit the skin of Amanda, the girl who had been late to her lecture.

There was a pink line forming across her bottom. And she gasped.

'That was nothing,' Mark said, 'it doesn't count. Do that again, harder this time.'

Tom pulled the cane back and this time he hit harder. The report was sharper and the girl's reaction more violent. She pulled herself up, gasped and drew her breath intensely. The mark across her buttocks was redder now.

'That one will count,' Fred said, 'but it is not proper unless you hit her harder.'

Tom took aim and swung the cane again. This time he used as much power he could muster. The girl cried out and jumped up, straightening her back, letting go of a squealing sound.

'That one was better,' John said, 'but it won't count since she let go of the armrests. Amanda! You know you get extras for that?'

'Yes, sir,' she said, her voice almost a whisper.

Fred and Mark urged Tom on, and he did his best to use the required strength in each lash. He let the cane land with determination, each time the sound rung out in the room, each time the girl jumped up, her feet making a wild dance as she tried to get to grips with the excruciating pain. She didn't let go, but soon she could not hold back her tears. She was sobbing and crying.

Amanda's tears made Tom feel bad about himself and he stared at the girl, and her fair and striped bottom, her soft skin, and the pain he caused her.

He told himself he had to do this. It was part of his duties as a member of the Club. Fred and Mark urged him on, complemented him on the ones that were really hard and hit the right spot.

When he had reached six he thought it was quite enough and thought his heart would break if he had to continue. By the count of eight, he experienced a strange excitement, and number nine and ten left a sensation in him, that was not altogether unpleasant.

He delivered eleven with a strange mix of guilt and pleasure, and was surprised by the elation he experienced. When it was time for number twelve and thirteen, he felt he was going to miss this.

[To be continued]

Monday, 19 September 2011

Tom's School Days

I have not completely abandoned the silly writing. This one happened to a bit longer, so I decided to blog it as short instalments. The setting for this story is the strange and quite misogynous Royal Lentil School. The hero of the story is a certain Tom Banks, hope you will enjoy it.

Tom was walking across the quad. The air was still warm after a hot day, fragrant and soft. He hurried towards the Tower, the old building on the grounds where the Mushy Peas Club had their common room. The Club, as it was called, was ancient, and it was a privilege to be a member. It was The Privilege to be a member, and only a few were allowed in.

Tom was still panting as he came into the room. He was still amazed by its interior. The common room looked more like a chapel than an ordinary room. There were armchairs and a gigantic fireplace, Persian rugs and bookshelves. On the walls hung paintings of prominent members.

Tom didn't look at the paintings or the armchairs or rugs. He stared at the two other Club members in their striped jackets. Frederick and Mark where not friends of Tom's but they were member, senior members and had to be obeyed.

'It's your first time, isn't it?' Fred asked.

'Don't worry, it will be fine,' Mark said and smiled.

'It'll be fun. You'll like it,' Fred continued.

Tom just nodded.

He followed the two others to a smaller room close to the entrance. It was comfy, with a couple of armchairs, but not as imposing as the common room. A girl rose from a chair as they entered.

'Here she is,' Fred said, 'her name is Amanda, and she is here for just twelve.'

It was an age old arrangement that the Club helped out with the punishment of the pupils. It was Tom's first time and he stared at the girl with a combination of anxiety and fascination.

'Mr Saunders was not pleased with her being late,' Mark said, 'but as you know, he is a softy, only twelve for her.'

The girl stared back at Tom and he was moved by the gaze she gave him. She looked concerned, and a little frightened, but there was something else, as well, a shyness, and perhaps a hint of kindness when she looked at him. Tom felt worse for it. She was pretty.

'Get the tool now,' Fred said in a low but commanding voice.

Tom knew what it meant and got the cane from its peg on the wall. The girl stepped back as he turned to her.

All students were subjected to discipline but the kind that was meted out differed widely depending on what kind of person that was about to receive it. Older boys like Frederick and Mark, were exempt from most kinds except a verbal telling off. Tom, who was a little bit younger could still be submitted to detention, or writing lines. The cane was reserved for girls. And so was other kinds of corporal punishments.

'Amanda, prepare yourself,' Mark said.

She sighed as if she knew there was no turning back now. She appeared very small and vulnerable to Tom as she put her hands under her skirt and pulled her knickers down to her knees.

'You don't have to do this,' she whispered, her voice weak and trembling.

Tom felt cruel. He pitied her. She was pretty and frightened and he would rather have hugged her than used the cane on her.

'But we have to,' Fred said, 'and we enjoy doing it.'

The girl looked at Tom and he had to look down.

[To be continued, (it will be, trust me...)]