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Thursday, 9 February 2017

Wet Weather

A St Angela’s story from Roué 12
Thursday afternoons at St Angela’s are usually a lot less tedious than the rest of the week. You see we have games period from 2 until 4pm when all girls who are fit have to play one of the recognised sports. Mary Andrews and myself, Brenda Holmes, had both been to the school nurse, Miss Rubens, that morning and obtained ‘games excuses’ — Mary has a sprained wrist, and I have a bad cold, caught last weekend when I was out in the rain without my mackintosh on. As we could not play hockey we had to watch the first XI hockey team play St Audrey’s. St Angela’s need all the support they can get as St Audrey’s are very experienced even though their average age is only 17 as opposed to our average age of 19.
Time was getting on as we hurried past the Art room and Music room heading for the changing rooms. We had both been in detention from 1.15 until 2 o’clock taking up our dinner break. We past a line of girls from form 6A waiting miserably outside the Headmasters study, facing the wall with hands on their heads. They were all wearing their games kit and their short pleated bottle-green games skirts had risen up to show six pairs of bottle-green cotton knickers. I knew only too well that those very same knickers would soon be lowered to feel the dreaded cane bite into the tender skin about 6 times each. I presumed that they had been caught misbehaving whilst changing for hockey.
We hurried on around the corner — walking not running, I must add as running in the school corridors is forbidden — past the assembly hall and gym and into the changing room. I hurried to my peg and lifted off my bottle-green gabardine mackintosh and slid my left arm into the check-lined sleeve, and struggling a bit, I got my right arm into its sleeve. The gabardine’s waterproof lining rustled delightfully as I drew it up over my shoulders and did up the four pairs of buttons to my neck and secured the belt tightly around my waist. The green check-lined hood hung from the neckline of my gabardine, and I raised it up over my school hat and fastened the tying cords securely under my chin. From my locker I took my pair of size 7 black rubber boots with their three inch heels, removed my flat heeled school shoes, and struggled to slide my legs into each boot as they are very tight fitting around the leg.
From my gabardine pocket I produced my bottle-green woollen gloves and put them on, securing the waist tabs of my gabardine over the gloves. I had no intention of getting a worse cold than I had already!
I glanced quickly in the full-length mirror, straightened out my belt and pulled it in even tighter to emphasise my neat waist, and turned towards Mary, expecting to see her also wearing her gabardine and rubber boots. However she was standing waiting for me still only wearing her school shoes and no gabardine!
‘Aren’t you going to put your gabardine and boots on?’ I enquired, ‘You know what happened to Cynthia Barker last week when she disobeyed the rule about wearing your gabardine and boots when watching games.’
‘Yes, I know all about that — she got four detentions from Mr Pink — the silly old fool. I’m prepared to risk that, after all it’s such a beautiful sunny day for the time of the year. I don’t want to wear a heavy sweaty gabardine on a day like this. And I hate those black rubber boots, why do they have to be so tight on the legs, and have a high heel?’
‘Oh I don’t mind them one bit. In fact I love the high heels — it makes me feel good after wearing our stuffy old ‘sensible’ shoes, and as for the gabardine — well that’s not so bad either if it keeps me warm and dry.’
‘Yes, you should have worn it last weekend when you were at home shouldn’t you — then you wouldn’t have got that cold.’ Mary quipped with a hint of sarcasm in her voice.
However hard I tried I realised that I wouldn’t get Mary to see sense and change her mind, and as we hurried out of the changing room door it was already ten past two and the game started at two thirty. Suddenly we stopped in our tracks as we heard a voice boom out ‘Andrews where do you think you’re going? Come back here at once!’
It was Miss Davies the Gym mistress who had shouted out of the window of the sports store. She must have heard the whole of our conversation, and now Mary was really for it! Mary walked forlornly back into the changing room and I followed close behind. Miss Davies stood beside a row of girls’ gabardines and clothes with her hands on her hips and legs apart.
‘Andrews, what is the meaning of this, why are you disobeying the school rules?’ she asked in a sharp voice.
‘......Please Miss, I’m sorry Miss, it’s such a lovely day Miss, that I thought....’
‘What you thought Andrews is of no consequence whatsoever. The school rules are made for your benefit and we are here to make sure they are obeyed. Now you will go and put your gabardine and boots on this instant and return here for your punishment. What a pity you didn’t listen to Brenda’s advice, she really is so sensible.’
I stood and watched as Mary hurried to her peg and put her gabardine on, done up the same as mine, and squeezed her feet and legs into her shiny black rubber boots. She was back very quickly and Miss Davies gave her a thorough inspection. ‘Your belt is twisted and your hood is not done up tightly — four extra strokes,’ she ordered. ‘Now bend over that bench and hold the legs the other side.’
I moved my position slightly so I could watch as Miss Davies lifted Mary’s gabardine and folded it neatly up over her back followed by her green blazer and her box-pleated gymslip. Her green knickers contrasted beautifully with the white of her thighs. I thought to myself that they would not be white for much longer!! Next Miss Davies put her fingers into the tight waistband of the knickers and drew them down to her knees where they covered the tops of the rubber boots.
‘Fetch me one of your plimsolls please Brenda.’ Miss Davies requested, and I hurried to my locker and brought back my right-hand white rubber plimsoll. ‘Thank you Brenda, this will do nicely,’ she said as she flexed the shoe between her hands. ‘Mary, you will receive ten strokes for not wearing your gabardine, ten strokes for not wearing your rubber boots, plus two strokes for having your belt twisted and two for not having your hood done up tightly. That makes a total of twenty-four stingers that you will get with Brenda’s plimsoll.’
I stood back against a line of pegs with girls’ clothes hanging on them, my hands behind my back admiring Mary as she lay quietly over the rough wooden bench. I felt a thrill of excitement that I could not understand as I waited for Miss Davies to deliver the first stroke to Mary’s bottom. I looked at Mary’s white bottom and at my very own plimsoll which Miss Davies suddenly brought smartly down on her right cheek. CRAACK! ‘EEOOW!’ screamed a surprised Mary.
A bright red patch soon appeared where the sole of the plimsoll had struck and this was soon followed by another CRAACK! this time to her left cheeks. ‘EEEEEOOW!’ came Mary’s reply. Again the plimsoll struck Mary’s right cheek and she responded with another ‘EEEOOW!’ Miss Davies set up a steady rhythm of strokes alternatively to Mary’s right and left buttocks. The howls of pain turned into continuous sobs and tears streamed down her face after the sixth stroke. I was able to watch as Mary’s bottom turned from a milky white to a soft pink and eventually to a fiery red. Mary held onto the pipes for the whole punishment and managed to keep her legs fairly still. She knew only too well that Miss Davies would increase the punishment if she jumped around too much.
After the eighteenth stroke Miss Davies finished with Mary’s bottom and delivered the remaining six strokes to her thighs. I must admit that I had really enjoyed watching her being punished and I could feel my cotton knickers were becoming very wet between my legs!
I was very glad that I had not been on the receiving end of my plimsoll, as Mary’s bottom looked very red and sore as she lay over the bench quietly sobbing now. Miss Davies gave me my plimsoll back and by the time I had put it away Mary had pulled up her knickers and straightened her gymslip, blazer and gabardine and was standing up wiping her tears away with the back of her hand.
‘Let that be a lesson to you Andrews,’ Miss Davies said sternly. ‘If I ever catch you going out again when you should be wearing your gabardine and rubber boots you will get double that punishment and so on until you learn. Now, quickly, be off with you or you will miss the start of the game — and you know what that will mean if you are late don’t you?’
‘Yes Miss Davies,’ I replied, ‘We will get our bottoms warmed up in the pavilion, I expect.’
Miss Davies dismissed us with a wave of her hand and we hurried out of the door and along the road to the games field. It was quite awkward to run in the tight high-heeled boots and I had to wait for Mary on several occasions as she found the tight elastic of her knickers cutting painfully against her sore bottom and legs. It was a beautiful sunny afternoon, and I soon felt very warm as I ran along in my bottle-green gabardine done up tightly with the hood up, and I could see that Mary felt the same, as droplets of sweat ran down her face where her tears had been running only a few minutes before. Our gabardines give off a very rubbery smell which is caused by the waterproofing of the garment, and this smell gets very strong as we sweat in our gabardines. I could smell Mary’s own personal gabardine smell as we walked the final hundred yards to the games field. The sweaty smell of other girls excites me no end and I felt my knickers becoming damp again.
Luckily for us we reached the games field just before the bully off, and stood on the touchline panting for breath after our half-mile run. There were quite a large number of supporters for both St Angela’s and St Audrey’s. It was immediately obvious which school each girl came from as all our St Angela’s girls were wearing their bottle green gabardines and rubber boots, and all the St Audrey’s girls who had travelled with their team were wearing brown gabardines with hoods up over their brown berets, and they wore knee-length fawn socks and low-heeled shoes.
There were also quite a number of men and boys from the local village watching the game, or to be more precise they came to look at the girls themselves. It’s not really surprising why they were attracted as girls playing hockey show a lot of their knickers, especially as we have to wear such short games skirts. Also our breasts bounce up and down provocatively under our white blouses.
On show today were eleven St Angela’s girls wearing short bottle-green pleated skirts, white blouses, bottle-green cotton knickers and bottle-green knee length socks and of course hockey boots. The eleven St Audrey’s girls wore brown gymslips with a gold sash over a white blouse, brown cotton knickers, and also brown knee-length socks and hockey boots.
St. Audrey’s school is also very strict like St Angela’s with the frequent use of the cane and tawse, and Mary and I spent most of the game trying to spot the tell-tale marks of the cane on any of the twenty-two girls’ thighs. It surprised us to see that all of the eleven St Audrey’s girls had fresh vivid cane weals on their thighs which were plainly visible to all the spectators, but we could only see five St Angela’s girls with marks on their thighs — perhaps our teachers concentrate more on our bottoms!
Despite the age difference St Audrey’s managed to beat St Angela’s by four goals to two, and we wondered whether their caning just before the match was to spur them on to beat our older girls!
After the game Mary and I walked slowly back to school chatting and giggling in our usual schoolgirlish way. It was getting chilly now and we were glad that we had our regulation gabardine mackintoshes on to keep us warm. We decided to take the long way back which took us past the storeroom near the boiler house. By this time we were larking around somewhat, and I ran into the storeroom and Mary followed, closed the door and turned the light on. I hid behind some boxes, but I could not refrain from giggling so Mary soon found me. She came up behind me and wrapped her arms tightly around my waist and gave me quite a hug. Slowly she released her grip and I felt her hands creeping upwards and gently she began to stroke my breasts through my gabardine. I stiffened in surprise but gradually relaxed as she moved her hands in a circular motion, one on each breast.
I was becoming aroused and I felt that tell tale wetness in my knickers again! I turned around and boldly kissed Mary on her lips, she responded very quickly and we held each other in a strong embrace for several seconds. I moved my hands up to Mary’s head and fondled the back of her head through her regulation hood, and she responded by stroking my head likewise through my hood. I moved my hands from her hood and stroked the back of her gabardine and I could hear the waterproof lining rustling as I moved my hands about, and the delightful smell of her gabardine mingled with the smell of her sweaty arms as we embraced each other again in a deep kiss.
I continued to move my hands lower and I knew I had come to her bottom when she flinched and let out a startled ‘OOOOH.’ I lifted the pleated back of her gabardine and softly stroked her tight knickers covering her tender bottom. I just had to kiss those ruby red cheeks and thighs!! I turned Mary round and asked her to bend over a convenient table where I lifted her gabardine up over her back once more, and felt under her blazer and gymslip and eased my fingers gently into the waistband of her knickers. She lifted her hips slightly so I could draw her knickers down and I noticed her bottom flinch several times as the tight leg elastic drew over her inflamed skin.
I kissed each cheek tenderly and I moved my left hand down between her thighs and into her pussy. She squealed in pleasure as I stroked her clitty for the first time and she moved her bottom up and down in unison with me. Mary came quite quickly and I responded by gently kissing her red bottom all over, and at the same time she reached behind and managed to get her hand up underneath my long gabardine, gymslip and blazer, and rubbed me frantically through my very wet knickers. I was already very excited, so I came very quickly and we collapsed in a heap on the table plunging our tongues deep into each other’s mouth in a frenzied kiss.
I was just thinking what a beautiful afternoon it had been, for me especially, when I heard a scraping noise and saw Mr Archer the caretaker watching us from behind some shelves full of toilet rolls. (It turned out that he had watched our whole escapade, and had wanked himself off twice in the process!!)
‘So this is your little game, is it?’ He enquired as he walked out into the room. ‘Two naughty schoolgirls who love each other?.. Eh?.. Eh?’
We didn’t answer, but hurriedly jumped up so our gabardines would fall down and cover my knickers and Mary’s bare bottom. He went on ‘....I’m sure Mr Payne the headmaster is going to love dealing with you two. I would imagine a public caning and talking to in front of the whole school would be the minimum punishment for this offence. Wouldn’t you?... Eh?... Eh?..... Come on answer me girls.’
‘Yes, Mr Archer, er... er... I mean, No Mr Archer,’ I stammered. ‘Please don’t report us Mr Archer, we’ll make it up to you, we really will. You see Mary’s already had 24 with my plimsoll today from Miss Davies, and she lays them on really hard.’
‘Well now, since you mention it, I think we can come to some arrangement.’ He grinned broadly as he said this. ‘You will both bend over my table, raise your gabardines, blazers and gymslips and receive twelve strokes of my cane. What’s that? — You didn’t realise I had a cane? Ah well! Now you know don’t you?’
We were entirely at his mercy at that moment, although looking back I feel it would have been better if he had told Mr Payne, but then I don’t think he wanted that at all! He produced a standard school issue crook-handled rattan cane from a locked cupboard and swished it menacingly through the air. SWISH! SWISH! SWISH!
‘What are your names, girls?’ He asked holding up a pad and taking a grubby pencil from behind his right ear.
‘Er, Brenda Holmes.’
‘And Mary Andrews.’
‘7B,’ I said with head bowed and in a quiet voice.
‘Right, now lift your skirts and bend over the table, hold the bars on the other side, yes that’s good. Now let me take your knickers down Holmes. My what lovely rubber boots you’ve both got on, and high heels too! Now then, if you make too much noise I will increase your punishment, and you will keep your bottoms still, understand.’
I nodded my hooded head and I saw Mary do likewise, and I waited for the punishment to begin. It was obvious that this was certainly not the first time Mr Archer had used his cane!!
‘Holmes, you will be first as you have such a lovely white bottom just asking to be caned.’ I heard the cane swish through the air several times, and gritted my teeth in anticipation of the first stroke. However, when it came the terrible pain took me by surprise.
‘Be quiet Holmes that was only the first stroke you still have eleven more to come,’ he said with a hint of pleasure in his voice.
SWISH! CRAACK! ‘YEEEEOH! AH! OOOH!’ I exclaimed once again.
‘Holmes I will warn you once more. If you persist in making such a ridiculous noise I will take Andrews’ knickers off and stuff them in your mouth. That will quieten you down a bit.
SWISH! CRACK! The cane came down across both my cheeks again, and although the pain was getting greater all the time I managed to clench my teeth and only emitted a gasp of ‘Oooh!’
He delivered the fourth, fifth and sixth strokes to the backs of my legs which took me rather by surprise, but still I managed to refrain from crying out, although my eyes were wet, and the tears started to run down my cheeks.
‘That’s six strokes, Holmes. You’re doing well now, see, you can take your medicine like a good girl if you try.’ He gloated over my bottom and touched it lightly with the cane which made me flinch each time. ‘What a lovely sight your bottom is now Brenda, six parallel lines, three on your cheeks and three on your legs. Those on your legs will show for several days when you bend down. Now for your final six.’
I heard him chuckle in his funny way and shuffle his feet back. Suddenly my bottom was filled with an incredible searing pain as he brought the cane down much harder than any of the previous strokes. SWISSSH! CRAAACK! ‘YEEEOOOW! OOOH! AAAH!’ I screamed and screamed, forgetting his threat about gagging me.
‘So Holmes, you want Andrews’ knickers in your mouth do you?’ And he went over to Mary and removed her bottle-green cotton knickers and roughly forced them into my mouth. He couldn’t get them all in, and he left her crotch piece very close to my nose. I became very excited as I smelt the soaking wet knickers that Mary had had on not so long ago. I almost forgot the punishment in hand as I wriggled my hips around the table with pleasure. I was brought back to reality as stroke number eight met my bottom that was already feeling as though it were on fire.
The final four strokes were delivered with great force, but I don’t really remember much more than the continuous fiery pain which swelled up through my body with each stroke, then diminishing only a little before the next stroke descended and took me up to a higher peak of pain. Strangely enough Mary’s wet smelly knickers seemed to take my mind off the punishment in hand, and I continued to twist my hips around on the table edge. After the twelfth stroke had landed right on top of a previous stroke on my legs, I came with a fantastic prolonged orgasm which made my whole body shake and quiver with pleasurable pain. I realised then that I had quite enjoyed the second part of my punishment with the knickers in my mouth!
Mary’s punishment is a bit of a blur to me as I lay over the table still clutching the legs on the far side. The pain in my bottom and legs subsided a little and I stopped shaking after a while. I heard Mary screaming quite a lot which is not surprising as she was receiving her twelve strokes on top of her bottom already sore from the slippering she had received only a few hours before.
I felt my knickers being pulled down my legs and I responded by lifting my boots off the floor to allow them to be taken off and I presume stuffed in Mary’s mouth. Certainly her cries were greatly muffled after that. She told me afterwards that she too was very excited by the smell and taste of my knickers which were soaking wet in the appropriate place. She didn’t come like I did but she told me that she had been very close to it.
When the punishment was complete we were ordered to stand up and to straighten our clothes. Mr Archer took our knicker gags out, but he would not let us put them back on — in fact he kept them for his own enjoyment.
So knickerless and still clad in gabardines with the hoods up, we made our way back to the changing rooms, but our first place to visit was a toilet where we inspected each other’s bottoms in private. I was absolutely amazed to see the state of Mary’s poor bottom when I lifted up her gabardine and gymslip. Before it had been a fiery red all over — now it was still a fiery red but 12 deep ridges, now turning a horrible blue, marked her tender bottom and legs. I wondered what she would get from Mr Walker when she reported to him before lights out for her punishment for talking after lights out last night.......... 

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