Story from Blushes 83
Penny was going to do Naval Training in the summer holiday. At a place on the South Coast where a man who had been in the Navy had a large house and offered training to girls. Something like that was a very good thing to have on your record when you left school, together with your O and A levels (hopefully, if you got them). Having a stint of Naval Training on your record would show that you weren’t just academic but had practical ability too. Also it showed that you were disciplined and a prospective employer was sure to like that in a girl.
So Penny’s mother, Mrs Sylvia Watley, was very pleased when Penny was accepted. Not that she was surprised because Penny, at 17, was a very attractive girl in addition to being in the top stream at school. A pretty girl with long honey-blonde hair, quite tall and with a lovely figure. And Mr Rambold would have been in no doubt about any of this. Because when he came to the house to interview Penny he took her upstairs to her room and had her take her clothes off. After he had had quite a long chat with mother and daughter over tea and biscuits in Sylvia Watley’s smart lounge.
The ostensible reason for the visit to Penny’s room was to measure her for a uniform. Mr Rambold had his own special uniform for girls in training and he was always keen to have a nice trim fit to a girl’s shape; the various rondures and burgeonings. But getting a girl’s clothes off enabled one to make quite sure she was acceptable material — and a man who could offer bona fide Naval Training to girls in a large attractive house on the South Coast could afford to pick and choose. He could afford to take only the very best. And when a girl had all her clothes off it was all there, what you saw was what you were going to get. Although naturally a modest girl might attempt to cover the more intimate areas: in Penny Watley’s case those firmly ripe pink-nosed boobs, and the delicate blonde fluff of pussy-hair at the start of her softly rounded thighs.
Modesty was quite acceptable, indeed desirable, in a well-brought-up teenager, as this quite lovely Penny clearly was. She would need to learn quickly, though, that modesty with Mr Rambold was not on the agenda. And as a first lesson in this Stanley Rambold as he progressed with his tape measure firmly removed Penny’s hands. In fact replacing them with his own as he felt necessary. It was of course highly embarrassing and blush-causing to have Mr Rambold’s hands, his questing fingers, in those intimate places. Penny’s highly sensitive — and (even more embarrassingly) rapidly stiffening — nipples. Fingers questing also in between her hot, damp thighs. Hot-faced Penny scarcely knew where to look.
Stanley Rambold of course was in no doubt that here was a choice recruit indeed. A marvellous specimen and it seemed marvellously modest too. Quite inexperienced perhaps? His query elicited that fact, somewhat stammered out, that Penny did have a boyfriend. But then an equally stammered denial, accompanied by a hot-faced shaking of her head, at his question as to whether they actually did anything.
That was highly acceptable too — always assuming it was true, and Stanley Rambold had no reason, on this short acquaintance at least, to doubt Penny’s denial. However it was also true that, by the end of this private interview, his measuring session, the young lady was undeniably moist, wet even, in a certain place. In that certain highly sensitive erogenous zone. That was after he had not only completed his measurements but also had her over his lap for a firmly-delivered spanking of her bare bottom as well.
The spanking was not for any particular identified shortcoming but simply to give a flavour of Naval Training as it would be experienced in Stanley Rambold’s establishment. A taste of the disciplinary training that would underpin any messing about in small boats, etc. Did this unscheduled spanking come as a surprise to Penny? Undoubtedly yes. She had not been expecting it at all and it was an undoubted shock to the system. An undoubted shock in particular to her bare nates which, it must be said, had never experienced anything of this sort before.
It was true Mr Carstairs, Deputy Master at school, had once spanked Penny’s bottom for some relatively minor offence — as he would do to the more attractive Sixth Form girls given half an opportunity. But that had been over her knickers. Mr Carstairs wasn’t allowed to take knickers down, though no doubt he would dearly love to. But there is a good deal of difference between having it with your knickers still in place, even though pulled very tightly up, and having it on the bare cheeks. Especially when you are told to relax, not keep your legs tight together like that. And then when you do most reluctantly part them, that hand of Mr Rambold not only continues the spanking, most stingingly and painfully, but also slides in between your unhappily parted thighs. Where you have already become quite moist. And become a lot more so, distinctly wet. As the fingers do what they do.
Does Sylvia Watley, downstairs, guess what is going on above? She certainly does hear partially muffled yelps — as that hard hand cracks down on her daughter’s quite delicious upturned rear. Because poor Penny is unable to take it in silence. Yes Sylvia does guess. And in any case before Mr Rambold leaves he has another chat with her, this time in private. In which he does allude to certain matters.
But anyway Sylvia does inquire, after Mr Rambold has left. And flush-faced Penny tells her. The clothes off; the smacked bare bottom. Not the other bit, though, those awful fingers at her pussy.
Sylvia makes a face. Commiserating with her daughter. But it’s not entirely unexpected, is it? Not to Sylvia Watley who after all is more a woman of the world, not an inexperienced 17-year-old. She has spoken to other mothers of girls who have done summer training, Naval or other types. Gentlemen who take in girls for training are it seems always very keen on the discipline. And there was what Mr Rambold had said, and got her agreement to, in private.
There was only one other girl staying with Mr Rambold when Penny arrived: another very pretty girl, a brunette called Sandra Elliot. Mr Rambold only ever had a small number of girls staying at one time, up to four. His house was certainly big enough to take quite a few more but Mr Rambold liked a small number, so that he could give each girl a lot of individual attention.
This was what Sandra told Penny soon after her arrival; Sandra had been with Mr Rambold for a week now. There had been two other girls for most of this time but they had gone home the day before (Friday) after completing their three-week stays.
‘What... What’s it like?’ Penny blurted in a hushed voice once Mr Rambold had left them alone. A hushed voice because she had the scary feeling that even though Mr Rambold had gone off somewhere, he would hear it if she said anything out of line. But she had to know. There was this mind-zapping thought in her head.
‘I mean does he... do we really... get the cane?’
Because that was what Mr Rambold had told Penny’s mother. Or rather that he might use the cane if he thought it necessary. It might be necessary to use it, as part of a girl’s disciplinary training, and he had wanted Sylvia Watley to sanction it. Penny’s mother had, and moreover she had told Penny. ‘But I’m sure he won’t need to darling. I shouldn’t worry, I’m sure it’s just an ultimate threat which certainly won’t be necessary in your case.’
That was what Penny’s mother had told her — but what was the reality? This Sandra would certainly know. Yes?
Sandra made a wry face. ‘I don’t know what he told your mother — but you’re going to get it. You can reckon on that. Especially at the beginning. The beginning is the worst, the first few days.’ Sandra gave a hollow little laugh. ‘You can reckon that your bum will be so hot you won’t want to sit on it!!’
‘Oh Christ...’ Penny breathed.
She and Sandra were in a loft space up under the rafters which you reached by climbing a steep high ladder and then up through a trap-door. They had gone here right away on Penny’s arrival, Sandra leading the way. It was going to be her sleeping quarters which she would share with Sandra. A stark enclosed space, brightly lit by a naked overhead light bulb. There were two sleeping bags on the bare boards and a few other small things; a couple of hangers for clothes; two what looked like milk crates for putting toilet items etc. in; a portable fan over to one side; and that was it. Certainly no furniture. Mr Rambold had plenty of properly furnished bedrooms, Sandra said, but he did not consider that girls being trained needed that sort of accommodation. Girls undergoing Naval Training needed to be kept under harsh conditions, to toughen them up.
‘Anyway most of the time,’ Sandra added. When Penny queried this she shrugged. You may sometimes get to sleep in one of the bedrooms. But then — well you may wish you were back up here.’
Penny would have liked to pursue this but she now had that other breath-stopping thing in her mind. The cane!! And in that connection...
‘He’ll be up here shortly.’ Sandra said. ‘You’ve got to have your things off by then. Mr Rambold will certainly give you a caning if you haven’t. Though it’s quite possible you could get one anyway, as it’s your first day.’
Penny let out an alarmed yelp — and grabbed frantically at her blouse buttons. She was still in her own blouse and skirt which she had worn on the train. Her new training outfit of white top and shorts was on one of the hangers but Sandra said Penny wasn’t to put it on just yet. Mr Rambold wanted her undressed first. Nude. So that he could inspect Penny.
Penny gave another fearful yelp. She could of course remember that visit from Mr Rambold at home, two weeks ago now but still crystal clear in her mind. When she had had to take all her clothes off for Mr Rambold up in her room — and had to stand still while his hands crawled all over her nude body. And then over his lap for that awful spanking — plus Mr Rambold’s hand between her legs. At her pussy. And although Mr Rambold’s hand had been really dreadful Penny had got all wet.
Penny’s pussy got wet when she and Derek, her boyfriend, were kissing and smooching. Derek liked to get his hand on it and sometimes she would let him but only outside her knickers. Derek’s hand there certainly got her wet but also just general smooching would. Mr Pilling Head of Biology at school had told them in Sex Education this was a normal reaction. A girl’s pussy got wet in readiness to take the stiff male penis. So that it could slide slickly in and out. When you wanted to have a baby, of course, or maybe didn’t want a baby but just wanted to enjoy highly pleasurable sexual intercourse. But a girl could get all wet and excited even when she didn’t want to do it — when it was perhaps the last thing she wanted, or thought it was. As with Mr Rambold.
Now there was the awful thought of that... and the cane too. It was almost too much, but Penny had to take her clothes off. ‘Everything,’ Sandra said. ‘Knickers and bra too. And you won’t be needing them while you’re here. We aren’t allowed to wear knickers or bra under our training outfits.’
Very shortly there was a brisk call from below, through the open space in the loft floor. ‘Are you ready? I hope so.’ And then the sound of Mr Rambold climbing the ladder. Penny, nude now and standing by her sleeping bag, cast a despairing look at Sandra. Sandra, standing opposite, was still in her crisp shorts and top. She gave Penny an encouraging little grin...
‘Good.’ Mr Rambold climbing up through into the loft. He was wearing a business suit — and carrying a cane in his hand. ‘Good. I hope you haven’t been telling our new recruit any subversive tales Sandra?’
‘No Mr Rambold,’ Sandra said smartly, standing to attention with her hands straight at her sides.
‘I hope not. Otherwise we’ll have your shorts down right away, won’t we?’
‘Yes sir. But I haven’t Mr Rambold.’
‘Hmm. But maybe we’ll have them down anyway, shall we? Right off, in fact. Yes everything off, like our new Penny here.’ As Sandra, biting her lip, began to comply, Mr Rambold turned to the quivering newcomer.
‘Now then young lady, are we all bright and eager to start our training?’ He stepped round behind the trembling Penny. The cane was in Mr Rambold’s left hand now. His right took hold of Penny’s bared nates.
‘Our Penny has got a boyfriend, Sandra. Yes. What d’you think of that? They don’t do anything yet, she tells me. I presume she was telling the truth. I do happen to know, however, that she has a very sensitive pussy. One that can get quite wet. As if a boyfriend has been messing about with it. Even if not indulging in actual penetration. Eh Penny dear?’
Penny could feel her face glowing bright red. Forcing herself to stand still as Mr Rambold’s hand groped and squeezed at her bare bottom. Her bottom that she knew was shortly going to feel that dreadful cane. What Mr Rambold had just said was pretty dreadful but it still didn’t displace the fearsome thought of that cane.
‘Yes?’ Mr Rambold’s hand groping at Penny’s quivering rear cheeks — and then pushing in underneath between her shivery thighs. ‘He does a bit of messing about, eh Miss? Stimulating you. Getting you all hotted up.’
‘No… ooo...’ Penny shook her head desperately. ‘No really...’
‘Hmm. Well let’s give you a touch of the cane. Isn’t that what she needs Sandra? And you’ll be next my girl. But our new recruit first. Girls with wet and over-excited pussies need regular caning in my experience. Get down Miss. And get this nice round bum up...’
Oh God! Penny kneeling on her sleeping bag. Her hands down on the bag — and her poor shivery bottom raised up. Her poor bare bottom presented for that dreadful cane. No! Please! This was impossible...
‘Aayyeeeeeiiiiighh..!!’ Oh yes it was. An excruciating pain. Like a white-hot poker abruptly burning on Penny’s defenceless nates. An impossibly agonising pain. And seconds later...
The cane slashed down for a second time. Cutting into her desperate flesh to add to and reinforce the already unbearable pain of the first stroke. She heard her shrieking yell as her arms gave way and she lurched forward face-down on the sleeping bag.
Mr Rambold hauled Penny back up.
‘That’s not much good. Is it Sandra? She’ll have to do a lot better than that.’
Sandra watched with awed eyes. Seeing the desperate distress of this new girl and remembering her own shocked first experience of Mr Rambold’s cane. It wasn’t quite as bad when you had had it a few times. You were to a certain extent prepared for it. And also Mr Rambold wasn’t quite so awful with it, not quite so fierce — if you responded to your training. If you learnt. Oh yes if you were sensible you learnt — to be submissive. And responsive. Do what Mr Rambold wanted.
Penny was still howling. Four red stripes on her bottom now. Sandra felt a little tingle of excitement. Penny was a lovely girl, so pretty and with a super figure. That lovely bared bottom with now those angry red stripes on it. Mr Rambold only took pretty girls of course. Was it true what Mr Rambold had said — about that boyfriend business? She would have to find out. Later, when Mr Rambold had left them alone up here. When she was alone with Penny and able to offer some sympathy to the poor girl.
Sandra gave a little squirm. First of all it would be her own turn though. The cane? Would Mr Rambold cane her? It might be just a spanking over his lap — with a good deal of groping at her pussy of course.
Penny was still sobbing. Lying on her side in her half open sleeping bag, her still nude body every few seconds convulsed with a shuddering sob.
Sitting watching her, Sandra, with her blouse back on now, knew what she very much wanted to do. Softly she made her suggestion to Penny.
‘Wha… Wha... at...’ the sobbing girl stuttered.
‘He won’t mind,’ Sandra assured her. ‘It’ll be OK. And it would be really nice. Put the two sleeping bags together. And then the two of us — all nice and cosy. I could give you a nice massage. It would make your poor bum feel a lot better.’
Penny’s mind wasn’t working very well. It was very difficult to think of anything beyond the glowing furnace that was her red-striped rear. But Sandra didn’t need any clearly-voiced agreement. She was going ahead. Zipping the two bags together. And then... sliding in with Penny.
What was happening? What was Sandra doing? Her hands. And her mouth. Her mouth was very shortly on Penny’s. A sexy wet kiss, her tongue greedily thrusting inside. And her hand, which had started gently caressing Penny’s still red-hot bottom, had now moved unequivocally between her thighs. At Penny’s hot and wet pussy — which Mr Rambold before he had departed down the ladder had himself had a few gropes at. Now Sandra... it seemed like she had all the fingers of that hand up inside. Her thumb at Penny’s clit and all the rest of her fingers up in Penny’s tunnel. All rhythmically working at the so-sensitive flesh.
‘No... Pl... Please...’ Penny, still sobbing somewhat and breaking her mouth away, gasped. Her mind still shell-shocked and unable to believe this latest development. But it was happening alright. Sandra was frigging her. And Penny’s hot pussy was responding. If Sandra kept this up Penny was going to come. Very quickly. It was impossible of course, she had never done anything with another girl, never had another girl do her. But it seemed everything was impossible but nonetheless happened here at Mr Rambold’s. Because Sandra was doing her alright. And Penny was now coming. Great shuddering jerkings. Quavering moans…
‘I hope you girls haven’t been doing anything,’ Mr Rambold said sternly. ‘Nothing that you shouldn’t.’
Sandra said a coy, ‘No Mr Rambold.’
They were standing now in front of him downstairs in the sitting room. Standing at attention in their uniforms — which as Sandra had said were worn without any underwear. They had had an hour’s break since that first caning for Penny — and Sandra’s bare-bottom spanking over Mr Rambold’s lap. An hour in which of course they had been doing something. That mind-boggling business, as far as Penny was concerned. Doing it — Sandra doing her — and then, at Sandra’s insistence, the reverse. Penny doing Sandra. It was too much. Penny felt weak, a bit light-headed. But doing her best not to show it.
‘I hope not. I can’t have girls tiring themselves out in indulgent and decadent practices when they need to be alert and sharp for their training. Well we shall see, won’t we Miss?’
Mr Rambold had moved in behind Penny and his hand now groped her bottom through the thin single layer of her smart white shorts.
‘Yes, we will see what shape you are both in. I’m going to take you out in the small boat a bit later, for a stiff row out in the bay. Rowing is excellent exercise, young lady. The back and arms, a girl’s thighs... But first of all I’m going to have the two of you running round the grounds. Twenty minutes hard running. And if there’s any flagging we know what it will be, don’t we Sandra?’
Sandra said a meek ‘Yes Mr Rambold.’
He was still groping Penny’s quivering bottom. She felt faint. Running... and then rowing this boat. And she could guess what the penalties for inadequate performance would be. Just in case she had been in any doubt Mr Rambold’s voice breathed in her ear:
‘It will be shorts down Penny. Another caning. You’ll enjoy that, won’t you?’
In fact it wasn’t a caning. Not after the running at least. Penny’s running performance was certainly pretty hopeless because she was not very good at running at the best of times and after that business with Sandra could scarcely put one foot in front of the other. In contrast to Sandra who steamed ahead seemingly unaffected — and perhaps even invigorated — by their exertions in the two joined sleeping bags. But Penny didn’t in fact get a caning.
Instead in Mr Rambold’s private sitting room she was taken over his lap. Still all shuddering and gasping from that dreadful 20-minute ordeal out in the grounds. Her shorts taken down. And right off. To allow Mr Rambold full play with his right hand.
‘Not a caning this time Miss. Though I expect I will give you one after your little row. But we’ll just smack it this time, shall we. Although you do deserve the other, after that really appalling show. Yes?’
Penny jerked out a yelp. For the moment Mr Rambold’s hand wasn’t smacking. It was in between her freely perspiring thighs. It had taken hold of her wet and heated pussy.