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Sunday, 11 March 2018

Enemy Occupied School For Girls

Story from Kane 24
‘Something bothering you, Freddy?’
I sort of sat to attention, mentally at any rate, at the same time clearing my throat a little nervously… my Commanding Officer tends to have that sort of effect upon his junior officers, even though no more than Major himself, and still in his mid-thirties.
‘Er… it’s — just that it’s… a school sir,’ I murmured apologetically.
‘So?!’ — Major Klein’s stare was direct, blue-eyed… and cold. ‘I fail to follow the implications of your fairly-apparent reservations about my choice of HQ, Lieutenant — this is, after all, by no means the first time that a school has been regarded as offering an eminently-suitable and ostensibly-innocuous cover, hein?… During the First and Second World-Wars — never mind the hundred-and-one minor outbreaks of “local difficulties” since… Korea… Vietnam… Kenya… Cyprus… India… Africa… South America… and of course this one we are ourselves presently engaged in — General Staffs on both sides have traditionally recognised the tactical advantages of “setting-up-shop” where appearances may suggest the presence of civilians, or even better, children, and in consequence be relatively immune from air attack — while on the other hand should such a ruse or deception be seen through, and you are bombed, what a masterpiece of propaganda to feed both one’s allies and one’s enemies, to say nothing of those governments and peoples whose alignment is still to be decided…. MONSTROUS ATTACK ON INNOCENT SCHOOL-CHILDREN BY BOMBING BEASTS!… not so much as a whisper, naturally, of the fact that every state at war uses schools as a matter of routine for HQ purposes, nor that when bombed the buildings are housing only military personnel… not a child in sight!’
I coughed, embarrassedly: ‘This happens, sir, to be a private school for girls!’
‘Public… private… boys… girls… — what difference does it make, Lieutenant? — a school is a school, once commandeered and occupied — and the kids, whether boys or girls, duly departed.’
‘But that’s the trouble, sir — that’s just it!… the girls have NOT departed. They’re still there — at any rate, most of the senior school… it’s residential, you see, sir.’
Almost a twinkle then, for a moment, in those ice-blue eyes: ‘Do I detect, Lieutenant Meyer, just the merest hint of a not-entirely-military interest in this situation? Might it be, perhaps, that you envisage the possibility of one or other of my junior officers… though not yourself, of course — perish the thought! — in the role of gallant escorting Officer i.e. School-Coach, as these doubtless nubile and conceivably in some instances quite attractive young ladies are returned to the places from whence they came?’
‘Not at all, Major Klein, sir,’ I responded, my manner stiffly correct. ‘Such an eventuality scarcely arises, since it appears none of the girls still in the school-buildings can be returned “whence they came” — their homes, in the case of every one of them, being situated within enemy-held territory. Naturally those girls whose homes lie within the perimeters of our own control have already been taken back home or went of their own accord. Thus, only those senior girls unable to reach parents or relatives — a matter of some twenty in all — are still in — er — partial occupation, as it were.’
‘Around twenty, eh?… hmm! — just about enough of ‘em to keep us all happy here at HQ, eh Freddy?! — oh! don’t look so bloody staggered, Lieutenant — I was only joking… not that there would be necessarily any call to worry unduly over the disposal of a handful of enemy — and presumably hostile — civilian youngsters. How old, by the way, are these schoolgirls?… and why do you suppose it is only the seniors still remaining?’
‘As to the first, sir, I believe the girls to be between the ages of fourteen and eighteen — and as to the second, it is only senior girls boarded and residential; all junior girls being day-attenders only, and living therefore well within the conquered zone, consequently either did not arrive today or were sent home.’
‘What about members of staff?’ queried the C.O. ‘Presumably women, and also one supposes for the most part residential themselves.’
‘Unfortunately, sir,’ I had to report, ‘the Principal and many others of her staff, so I understand, most ill-advisedly elected to challenge our Advance-and-Recon party’s right of access, let alone of requisition… and in fact offered active resistance. Naturally all were placed under arrest, and will be charged. A number of day-staff had unfortunately already left, together with domestic staff, and any day-girls who had turned up… and I’m afraid that appears to be the last definite news we have of them.’
The Major had noted both some hesitation and a certain faltering in tone.
‘Obviously you have some idea as to why none of the mistresses have put in a second appearance,’ he said, observing me keenly.
‘Well, for one thing, sir, news of those staff-arrests undoubtedly deterred others who may have feared a similar fate, while it is also fairly-reliably reported that a number of the younger teachers — and I’m afraid at least two of the local senior girls also — were intercepted and accosted while on their way home by some dozen or so of our rank and file who were off-duty, and I believe somewhat the worse for drink. Apparently they were forcibly taken to the barracks, although no-one is to be found so far who can confirm this. There have been a few random telephone complaints of screaming from within the billet-area, however.’
‘Hmm… yes… well, there would be, wouldn’t there Lieutenant!… always are — and not just the complaints, but cause for complaint! Anyway, that’s as may be, and not my particular concern, since they were not HQ soldiers — so let’s face it… we have twenty or so adolescent girls, unsupervised, housed within our pro tem Headquarters. Without any doubt it will be for only a very short space of time, since our advance will continue remorselessly, and must soon encompass the areas from which these senior girls originate — and then they can be sent or taken home. In the meantime they can continue their studies as best they may, under guard of course, and should also be made to undertake certain domestic chores.’
With what the worthy Major doubtless considered a nicely-hit-upon choice, I found myself allotted the task of rounding up the twenty or so girls from the various classrooms, prep-rooms, study-bedrooms, etc., and marshalling them in the school’s well-appointed library, to await “instructions”.
They were a truly mixed bunch — short, medium, tall… blonde, brunette, chestnut — or just plain mousy… some pretty, some plain — but all neatly and fetchingly arrayed in the attractive sky-blue blouse with navy-blue skirt and matching tie — (and matching knickers too? — I wondered). None was below fourteen years, according to my information, while two or three were quite clearly and observably in their later teens — the Head Girl herself… “Marietta Krondstandt”, so she informed me, having already celebrated her eighteenth birthday a few days earlier. She was a stunning redhead!
Shortly afterward, Major Kurt Klein entered, and even without my hasty prompting the girls jumped to their feet, and to attention… my C.O. has that sort of effect on most people!
‘At ease!’ he barked. ‘My officers will of course be taking possession of the study-bedrooms which the more senior of you were privileged to occupy prior to our invasion and successful overthrow of your corrupt and criminal government — for which indeed you should all be grateful, hein?’
Ignoring the girls’ stony silence, he continued: ‘Any privileges accorded from now on will be at my discretion, pending return to your homes in the as-yet-to-be-liberated zone. Dormitories formerly occupied by younger girls not entitled to private rooms will now have to be shared among you.’
He had no difficulty whatever in identifying Marietta as Head-Girl.
‘You,’ — he waggled a finger at her — ‘will kindly organise the removal by your fellow-seniors, prefects, no doubt, of their belongings — and of course your own — into whichever of the dormitories you may have a preference for, and you will each thereafter assist the officer taking over the rooms thus vacated. Your own room,’ he added thoughtfully, giving her a long look, ‘should be left for my personal use,’ and the next one to it for my aide here, Lieutenant Meyer. You may start on that right away — by the time you have organised the other girls, and cleared out your own belongings, I shall be upstairs ready for you… ready, that is, for you to — er — assist me in the installation of my things.’
He turned to me, apparently and studiedly oblivious to my expression, though he well knew my reaction to his veiled innuendoes, — ‘See them as far as the stairs, will you, Freddy? — just to ensure that no-one loses the way! They’ll all be sufficient-well-guarded and escorted once upstairs! Meanwhile I have some work to arrange for these other girls who do not need to change their rooms.’
Doubtless there was no real need for me to wait in the well of that circular staircase once I’d seen the last girl starting upward, but a somewhat less conscientious motivation kept me there in the hope that my passing speculation on the subject of “matching” might be verified, and sure enough, no fewer than three of those sprightly high-stepping, two-at-a-time teenagers, as they mounted the stairs above my head, swung and swirled their skirts just sufficiently to afford a brief glimpse of knicker-leg. And oh! yes — they were matching, right enough, but not the navy-blue skirt and tie I’d anticipated; instead, the pale blue of their blouses — no doubt, I thought, an Upper-School concession… were a Lower-School day-pupil to have her skirt lifted, then I’d bet it would be a navy-blue bottom that was put on show!
‘Oh! — there you are at last!’ was my C.O.’s greeting upon my return to the library, where I noted at once that one girl stood to one side, silently snivelling, while the rest, at attention, faced the Major in very evident unease. My chief quickly put me in the picture as to the cause of their troubled demeanour.
‘This girl here,’ Major Klein informed me in tones that boded ill, ‘managed to absent herself by using an alternative exit in this room, while my attention was directed toward those bed-study arrangements a while back.’
‘What?!’ I exclaimed, ‘an attempted escape, sir?!’
‘No no no — nothing like that… though we’ll have to detail a couple of us, turn and turn about, to be responsible at all times for the whereabouts and movements of these girls… but no! — apparently the young minx took it upon herself to visit the lavatories, without bothering to inform me, let alone ask my permission. Consequently I have been at some pains to impress both on this particular girl and these others that strict discipline will be maintained at all times, breaches of any kind to be punishable by tawse or cane… and what is more, across the buttocks, not, as has possibly been the custom until now, the palm of the hand — always supposing there to have been any sort of discipline here at all!’
‘I see, sir — and so I take it this is why she’s snivelling — you’ve given her a first taste of C.P.!’
‘No, Freddy, not at all… not without a warning! No — her distress and silly show of embarrassment — and a lot of damned nonsense, as I’ve told her — is simply at having chanced to encounter inside the lavatories an officer intent upon a similar errand, inspired by a similar need!’
I suppressed a half-smile… ‘Of course, sir — I suppose I ought to have foreseen such a possibility and considered alternative arrangements. Naturally as a girls-only school, no toilet-facilities geared especially to masculinity would have been envisaged, apart from limited staff and visitors’ accommodation. Perhaps I should designate all staff-lavatories, and at least one of the girls’ cloak-rooms for our own use, reserving the other lavatory-facilities for the girls themselves.’
Klein’s snort was both derisive and dismissive.
‘Certainly not, Lieutenant — any limitations and reservations considered will be solely in furtherance of the interests and comfort of myself and my staff! And in any case, since as I’ve already pointed out every girl — without exception and at all times — both as to movements and whereabouts is to be accompanied and under close supervision, there would be little, if any, purpose served in reserving or re-allocating such as you envisage!’
He stood the waiting girls at ease, then casting about him in what I for one recognised to be a critical, not to say carping, mood, snapped disgustedly:
‘This place is filthy… hasn’t been dusted, swept or polished for days, by the look of it. You young hussies of a decadent cultural heritage may well be content to live, work, play, eat and sleep in a pig-sty — but I’m NOT — neither is my aide here, nor any of my officers…. Get into the kitchens and cupboards and storerooms, the lot of you, and fetch out every broom, brush, duster, pan, cleaning-rag, scrub-brush, bucket, polish, etc. you can lay your idle hands on. High time you pampered daughters of the bourgeoisie learned how to fend for yourselves — and with the domestic staff absent, what better chance to become useful citizens of our New Order, for the first time in your little sluttish lives!… do you far more good than the mish-mash stuff you call learning, eh Lieutenant? — and of course if they don’t care to learn, there are other lessons, are there not? — to cure slackness and disobedience!’
This was the signal for the girls to scatter in a mad rush to do the C.O.’s bidding — not one of them needing his pointed reminder concerning the alternatives to strictly-observed discipline and absolute obedience. Mindful of his strictures regarding the need for supervision, I detailed four or five junior officers to this task, for although no more than a substantive Lieutenant myself, yet as aide-de-camp to the C.O. I outranked effectively all other officers on HQ staff.
As the senior girls one by one came back downstairs, having reluctantly removed their belongings, and with even less enthusiasm assisted their usurping supplanters, I directed them to take their turn at the general clean-up operation now in full swing. I refrained from enquiring into the whys and wherefores a fair number of these seniors presented a somewhat flustered and red-faced appearance, well aware as I always have been that the term “officer-and-gentleman” may often represent no more than a half-truth!
Chatting to the Major and a few others in the library over a drink shortly afterward, I caught sight all at once of the Head Girl hovering at the door, and obviously trying to attract my attention; excusing myself I went over to her, and was at once apprised of the “domestic hitch”.
‘Major Klein, sir,’ I called over to the C.O., ‘our worthy Head Girl, Marietta, here, reports a serious shortage of floor-cloths… only enough, she tells me, for five of the girls. Naturally they are taking turns at this task, but at the rate this means they have to work, it will take hours. They haven’t even started on the stairs yet, let alone the study-bedrooms and dorms.’
Kurt Klein needed no more than a half-minute’s reflection to come up with what for him was doubtless a perfectly obvious solution to the “problem”.
‘Only five floor-cloths, you say, Freddy? — so what of it?… with twenty girls one may presume there are twenty pairs of knickers, hein?!’
With my fairly long acquaintance with the man, I suppose I should not have felt as flummoxed as Marietta looked, but I was not the Major’s aide for nothing, and without so much as a batted eyelid I told the girl, ‘Well, young lady, there you are — you heard what the C.O. said!’
As she still hesitated, her cheeks reddening quite delightfully, Kurt Klein having noted others gathering outside the library bellowed to them to down-tools and come along in. Beckoning over to him the nearest — a girl of some fifteen summers I reckoned — without so much as a word of warning, he yanked up her skirt waist-high. Turning to me on the instant, he directed me to ‘Pull her pants down and right off, Lieutenant!’
The mortified fifteen-year-old, standing with her back to her assembled class-mates, and incidentally to the openly-appreciative handful of officers present, necessarily faced the C.O. and myself, so that I was well-qualified to report later to interested cronies that here at least had been one verifiably natural blonde! Whether or not my chief had noted likewise he wasn’t saying; instead, standing off to one side as he still held up that navy-blue skirt, he drew back his free hand, and as it swung down smartly, a mighty THWAACKK, followed on the instant by the girl’s sharp cry — of surprise and pain both — heralded the dropping of her skirt into place, and the release of our “working-model-demonstrator” her sky-blue pants clutched in her hand.
‘There you are, you see… now that her skirt is once more in place,’ Kurt pointed out, ‘this girl is to all intents and purposes as decently and modestly covered as the rest of you. Now you have a choice… you can remove your own knickers without fuss or loss of face outside, or you can HAVE THEM REMOVED, just as hers were… I’m quite sure that any of these gentlemen here will be only too glad to play “lady’s-maid” if need be… AND to see that suddenly bared bottoms do not get too COLD!
Amid the gasped Oooohh!’s and scarcely-suppressed squeals — either at the prospect of male hands hauling down pants, or the contingent possibility of those same male hands slapping denuded derrieres… or both (!)… I became aware, even as most of the girls made haste to depart elsewhere for a more discreetly-secluded removal of knickers by their own fair hands, that one of their number appeared to be on the verge of collapse, and two others showing signs of distress; hence I was not altogether amazed, dumbfounded, or stricken with incredulous surprise, when eighteen-year-old Marietta Krondstadt confided, sotto voce, that those three girls chanced to be “temporarily-indisposed”.
‘It’s the “curse”, Major,’ I mouthed in silent mime as he looked enquiringly across at me and the affected girls — and much to my surprise the C.O. came all over sympathy and concern.
‘Look, you girls must just take it easy and watch out for yourselves,’ he told the three, rightly judging that Marietta was only acting as intermediary on their behalf. ‘My personal aide here will find something pleasant and undemanding… flower-arrangement… a jig-saw perhaps… a little private study even — or just choose a book and have a quiet read in here, umm?! You are exempted from all duties, my dears, until Marietta or Lieutenant Meyer reports you to be well, and fully able to cope.’ — and with precisely the air of a monarch distributing largesse he gave them an airy wave and left the room.
But if Kurt Klein could play the gallant on occasion, if and when he felt like it… “all heart!”… he very soon proved himself capable of far less endearing qualities, for when Marietta next sought me out yet again, and not so very long afterward, my Chief emerged promptly from the Head’s study — which naturally he had made his office — and with a glowering scowl on his face.
So!!… so what is it now, Head Girl?… or should I say “Head Nuisance”?!’
Marietta, confused and fronted, coloured at the Major’s brusque and derogatory manner, but held to her purpose as sole representative and protector of her younger companions.
‘Several of the girls, Major, have complained that while scrubbing and drying the stairs, using their… undergarments, as stipulated by you, a succession of junior officers — and even a few higher-ranking ones — have contrived, on one pretext or another, to mount the stairs behind them, or to loiter in the well of the staircase below, obviously in order to embarrass the girls as their skirts, despite all their efforts to preserve decency and modesty, unavoidably permit frequent glimpses of their uncovered… er…!’
‘Lost for an appropriate word, young lady?’ Klein sneered, ‘…how about “arses”? — or was it “bums” you were just about to mention?… bare bums, eh?!’
Then his manner hardened as he stormed: ‘So they dare to complain, these girls, do they? — and YOU, Miss, have the gall to speak of “a succession of officers” who have “contrived,” on one “PRETEXT” or another, to “LOITER”!!… By what right, girl, do you presume to attribute such derogatory motives to my officers, engaged upon their proper functions and errands? — much less to criticise, REGARDLESS of their motivation… And another thing — small wonder these girls still haven’t finished, if they are wasting precious time devoting “all their efforts”, to quote your own words, to the concealing of their silly little backsides, instead of attending to the jobs I set them… would bloody serve them right if those bare bottoms that they are so concerned about were to collect a sharp slap or two once in a while, never mind an occasional passing glance!’
‘But that’s just it, sir,’ protested the Head Girl indignantly. ‘None of my remarks is without foundation and verification. As soon as I was told of these…. incidents… — I had heard cries of protest in any case — I crossed over from my study into the hallway and saw for myself, Major, two officers on the stairs, each with a hand tugging a girl’s skirt up around her hips as she knelt there scrubbing, and even as I exclaimed and ran forward, their free hands planted what may not have been a particularly painful slap — but they were on the girls’ bare bottoms, sir! The officers told me they were only having what they called a “bit of fun”, but upstairs in the dorm. I came across one of the younger girls who insisted she’d been spanked “for real”, Major, after refusing to pull up her skirt in front for an officer who had already yanked it up behind!’
HAH!!’ — snorted the C.O., apparently not in the least impressed by anything Marietta had said — ‘so what do we have…? — two girls choosing to make a fuss over a playful slap, and a third spanked for disobedience… she should be grateful, if you ask me, that the officer thus rudely rebuffed was content to punish her appropriately on her rear, instead of attending rather less-suitably to her frontal offerings… or NON-offerings, perhaps one should say!’
Cheeks flushed with shame and indignation Marietta gasped out, ‘But sir! — she’s just fourteen… nowhere near the age of consent!’
‘So now it’s “consent”, is it?… I doubt very much!’ my Chief commented drily, ‘whether that officer had “consent” as one of his priorities. Subject peoples under enemy occupation are seldom in a position to lay down the law, or to decide for themselves on such matters as consent versus dissent.’
He favoured Marietta with a long and appraising look, his anger apparently somewhat evaporated.
‘I am a little intrigued… concerned, even… — about your own activities and attitude, Miss-Head-Girl-Marietta-Krondstadt,’ he murmured. ‘Making random complaints and criticisms… moving at will, without seeking authority, between study, library, Assembly-Hall, dormitories and whatever… precious little evidence of a disposition on your part to follow instructions… — and come to that, I doubt very much whether you have personally obeyed my orders concerning certain items of clothing to be set aside as substitute floor-cloths!’
So saying, almost before the startled girl knew it, he reached out a hand to whisk up her skirt clear to the waist, revealing thereby to my not-entirely-unappreciative eye, and doubtless even more so his own, a frontal revelation of distinctly NON-uniform panties, not to mention a pair of very shapely thighs.
Strangely, under the Major’s plainly-accusing and baleful glare, Marietta’s automatic reaction was not so much that of offended mortification as of partly-acknowledged guilt evident in her supplicant tone, ‘if you remember, when I first reported the difficulty about cleaning floors and so on I did point out that while there weren’t enough floor-cloths to go round, there were, all the same, enough for five of us… and naturally I allocated these to the senior prefects, including myself.’
‘Oh! — so I am to take it there are four other senior girls still wearing knickers contrary to my orders? — in other words, four other instances of open defiance and deliberate disobedience?’
‘No sir… I mean… well, I suppose… yes sir, but…’
‘I shall require those seniors to present themselves to me in my study in due course… after I have dealt with yourself! — you will kindly accompany Lieutenant Meyer there forthwith — to await my pleasure!’
To await his “pleasure”! — I mused as he turned on his heel, leaving me to conduct the girl to the study — hmmm! yes… his pleasure very probably, but scarcely Marietta’s!
‘W-what d-do you th-think he’ll d-do, L-lieutenant M-meyer?’ Marietta was wringing her hands nervously, and the thought inevitably crossed my mind at the sight that those same hands might very shortly be tucked under her armpits in an effort to appease scorched palm and stung fingers.
Glancing at a glass-covered recess-cupboard I felt impelled to ask the anxious Head Girl, if only half in earnest, ‘D’you know if there’s a cane propped up somewhere inside there, Marietta? — I mean, even supposing your Headmistress happened to be one of those people totally opposed to corporal punishment, presumably by law she’d have been required to have an “official instrument of correction” somewhere on the premises.’
Recoiling noticeably at the implications of my enquiry, Marietta informed me of the statutory, and entirely “token’’ existence of such a cane… “on display at the back of the platform in our General Assembly Hall”… and then I recalled with something of a start that this was the direction Kurt Klein had been heading.
Sure enough, at that precise moment he walked into the study — carrying the cane!
Allowing no time for either Marietta or myself to react in our doubtless somewhat varying ways, the C.O. closed the door behind him and addressed the shrinking girl coldly and curtly: ‘Hold out your right hand!’
Despite an inevitably-shaky response, it was at once apparent that the Head-Girl was considerably relieved at the Major’s mention of her hand, and it suddenly dawned on me that she may actually have been anticipating a more embarrassing, not to say humiliating choice of anatomy as the “locus-operandi” for his punitive attentions… doubtless having in mind all that had been said on the subject of spankings earlier on… but after all, for goodness’ sake, here was no little junior school-girl — at eighteen Marietta Krondstadt was well on the way to adulthood. Not, be it confessed, that the notion of her knickered rump proffered for “six-of-the-best” entirely lacked attractiveness, I told myself even as she stretched out her right hand, shoulder-high and palm upward. True, I had only been afforded a brief frontal glimpse just a few moments ago when her skirt had been hoisted up by my chief, but if those lissom thighs of hers were anything to go by, the Krondstadt bum definitely promised to be something!
Three on either hand alternately extended, the strokes descending with a notably vigorous, if not vicious, impact, brought tears to the girl’s eyes, but her gasps were bravely muted — and I saw further that she did manage after all, if not without an effort of control, to avoid that under-arm thrusting I’d anticipated.
I don’t know which of us was the more taken aback then as Major Klein laid the cane aside, and coldly ordered Marietta to take off all her clothes, bar her knickers!
‘Lieutenant Meyer will no doubt lend a hand if necessary — or better still, help to restrain you while I act as lady’s maid myself, if you are unwilling…’ — but this proved more than enough to cause the girl’s incoherent protests to cease as though by magic — and in a silence punctuated only by her mortified sobbing, we were treated to the delightful if amateurish spectacle of that eighteen-year-old Head Girl divesting herself, in turn, of skirt, blouse, shoes, stockings, and last of all — with her back toward us — her bra… and I suspect that for all Kurt would be keenly awaiting his first appraisal of her topless titties, the bonus view of her knickered buttocks, perhaps almost unwittingly offered as Marietta turned away, may well have proved a source of Major appreciation… (sorry!).
‘Since you appear to have baulked at the idea of jettisoning your knickers while being allowed to retain the rest of your clothing, young lady, how does the alternative appeal to you, of going about your various duties, supervising the rest of the girls in school — and possibly serving coffee and cakes to my officers — dressed as you are at this moment?.. knickers permitted — but otherwise naked?!
‘Oh! no!!… PLEASE, sir!,’ she exclaimed, aghast — for quite clearly no matter how mortifying it might be to walk around in the knowledge one’s pants are missing, nobody but oneself need be aware of this… plenty of women, come to that, do so from time to time by choice!… whereas there can be no possible doubt whatever when a girl’s wearing nothing but her pants!
‘Hmm!’ — Kurt turned toward me, a tight smile curling his lips — ‘yes, I was inclined to think, weren’t you, Freddy?, that our Head Girl would see things in a somewhat different light once the alternatives were clearly demonstrated, hein?… so I take it, Marietta, you are now more or less reconciled to going knickerless provided you are otherwise decently and decorously covered… mmmm — yes — quite so… however —’ he intervened even as the blushing girl made as if to recover her bra, ‘in this instance I think it might be as well to reverse the order of things a little; instead of putting on the remainder of your clothing, prior to removing, and handing over to me, those quite fetching knickers of yours, you will kindly deliver them at once into the care of Lieutenant Meyer, for safe keeping, and then — starting from scratch, as it were — you may seek my permission to get dressed.’
And not content with the consternation his words had provoked, Klein retrieved the cane just as coolly as he had put it aside, and at once proceeded to advance its tapering tip to the prominence of that jutting mons so clearly outlined against the girl’s flimsy garment, murmuring meanwhile… ‘Come along, Marietta, we both know perfectly well what it is that is waiting down there to be placed on view, eh?… “HEAD Girl” certainly, “maiden” quite possibly… but right now it’s “MAIDENHEAD” time!’ — and as his free hand grasped the shocked teenager’s shoulder he moved the cane’s tip upward until, with a little twist and flick of the wrist, somehow or other the waistline of those panties was nudged outward, away from her curving, naked belly… and I briefly glimpsed her dimpled navel before she wrenched herself away, at the same time uttering a desperate, gasping ‘No! — I won’t!’
‘Lieutenant Meyer’ — his voice was crisp and decisive — ‘much as I would relish the task of removing this naughty girl’s knickers personally, yet since I already have a good grip upon her arms, perhaps you would be good enough to strip the offending garment down, and right off!’
He did not need to ask twice — not that he ever DID, on any matter at all! — and so within seconds there remained very little indeed of Marietta’s shapely person that might still be deemed secret and private, though this reservation was itself only applicable in my case, for now it was my limited task to hold the girl as still as possible while the Major proceeded to familiarise himself — judging by her shamed cries of outraged modesty — with every last nook, and crevice, and cranny!
Nevertheless despite her state of shock and mortification Marietta was still sufficiently alert, and mindful of priorities, to note at once with alarm Kurt’s meaningful swish of the cane, moments later, against the back of the chair nearest to her.
‘Fancy a go at her arse yourself, Freddy? — or will you leave it to me?!’
I started to murmur — what else?! — that it was entirely up to him, when a panic-stricken, ashen-faced Marietta broke in tearfully,.. ‘Sir!!… I’ve already had my caning!!’ — and she held out her whacked hands as though to remind him, but my Chief only laughed.
‘What?! — those six little tinglers?!… no! no! — it’s your bare BUM that’s scheduled for the REAL THING, baby… so get yourself good and ready over the back of that chair there…. — oh! and by the way, “good and ready” includes making yourself “comfortable”, as the saying has it…’ — he gestured casually toward an inner door — ‘and you’re welcome to go in there, to save you an eye-catching stroll to the toilets in the altogether,’ he told her, but when she hesitated, he snarled, ‘You will get in there, girl — AND you will leave the door ajar, d’you hear?! — I’m damned if I’ll risk having you pee all over the furniture once you find the going tough!’
I cannot honestly claim to have shared the C.O.’s apparent enthusiasm for micturition — be it his own or another’s — but since I was well aware that what had motivated him in the present instance was a determination to heap indignity upon indignity, in order that Marietta’s forthcoming physical torment should be at least equalled by his humiliating of her spirit… oh! yes, Major Kurt Klein was never one for half-measures! — I felt obliged to follow him over to that open door, and to stand by there in a silence breached only by that involuntary contribution of the girl herself!
‘You will need to restrain her, Lieutenant,’ Klein warned me as he manoeuvred the weeping girl over the chair, placing her feet well apart. ‘She has none of the traditional background of tough discipline and regular whackings our own girls receive from the earliest days, and with the best will in the world is unlikely to be able to remain in position unassisted!’
Whether by chance or design, Marietta’s “punishment-chair” proved to be in direct line with a wall-mirror behind her, and thus any momentary disappointment I might have felt at being denied visual involvement and partnership while her bare buttocks were being caned was at once allayed. Indeed, under the strong lighting, I could already make out far more of the Head-Girl’s mirrored rearward attributes than I had previously been able to see with her legs as yet unsplayed. Stooping as she now was, with both wrists firmly in my grasp, her generously-tufted lower lips protruded quite openly, yet even so, and knowing full well that his victim must be very well aware of the involuntary exhibition she presented, Kurt had to give one more turn to the screw. I saw his arm begin to draw back with the cane, but far from swinging it at once to shoulder-height or higher, instead — as I was able to observe through the mirror — he advanced the tip of his cane, just as he’d done before, until it was prodding, not — as I’d half-expected — against those rearward pouting lips, but at a point marginally higher, right between the pear-shaped twin rounds. Entirely undeterred by Marietta’s affronted and incredulous exclamation — indeed far-more-probably spurred by it to further extremes of abuse — Klein dropped the cane onto the floor, and standing to one side… for my benefit?! — placed a splay-fingered hand upon either buttock-cheek, and drew them obscenely outward, to disclose the bitterly-sobbing girl’s anal orifice.
Then he was picking up the cane again, and at last her actual physical torment began. The punishment — his up-sweeping arm descending to land stroke after stroke upon that beautiful bare bottom, stripe after stripe to cut its livid weal across the spasming, twitching buttock-cheeks — lasted only a matter of minutes, even though a full dozen had been implanted before Kurt finally called it a day… finally, that is, insofar as the C.P. aspect of the Head-Girl’s ordeal was concerned.
It was at this juncture… or should I have said “conjoining”?! — that I made as graceful a departure as I could contrive; the next stage in the “Downfall-of-a-Head-Girl” saga held little in it for me, after all! My Chief did not press me to stay as he murmured to a past-caring Marietta, ‘My loyal aide, Lieutenant Meyer, is about to leave us, my dear… I wonder if it could be envy or jealousy! — eh, Freddy?… wishing you could have some of the action yourself, maybe?… ah! well, it is only right that being the C.O. should have a few perks, after all!’
By the time I had made the rounds, checking on the other girls and seeing that the work had been carried out — and identifying and warning those four prefects soon to pay at least part of the same price as Marietta for their knickered disobedience, I calculated correctly that the Major’s little frolic with the Head Girl would have been concluded — to his own satisfaction if no-one else’s — and indeed Marietta, once again fully-dressed — with one notable exception, of course! — was looking a little more herself.
‘Who on earth is that?!’ I exclaimed as I suddenly espied a small figure studying the notice-board in the temporarily-deserted entrance-lobby. As Marietta and Kurt joined me at the door, the girl out there sneezed suddenly, and obviously supposing herself unobserved groped beneath her skirt for a handkerchief in that traditional “storage-place” favoured by schoolgirls the world over — the leg of her knickers….
Her KNICKERS!!!
The other two must have realised it at the same moment — the Major and myself undoubtedly concerned principally with the obvious circumstance that this could not conceivably be one of those four prefects we already knew about, or for that matter any of the girls we had so far encountered — but it was Marietta who tried to avert my Chief’s furious explosion as she explained urgently that the child must be a day-pupil belonging to the Lower-School, and whose parents were possibly unaware of the school’s occupation as an enemy HQ
‘So she wouldn’t know about your “no-knickers” ruling, sir,’ she concluded anxiously, ‘and cannot fairly be charged with disobedience.’
‘Hmm!’ — Klein murmured reflectively, ‘but on the other hand, if she were to refuse to take them off when so ordered, THAT would be disobedient, would it not? — and I should imagine, wouldn’t you, my dear Head Girl?, that without prior warning, and coming “out-of-the-blue”, so to speak, chances are, if she’s a properly-brought-up little girl, she WILL refuse, eh?!’
‘But sir! — that would be quite unfair… and besides as a Lower-School pupil she really IS, as you just said yourself, only a little girl — quite likely not even into her teens yet.’
‘Why yes… d-you know, you could be quite right, Head Girl Marietta,’ Kurt Klein assented cheerfully — far too cheerfully, to my way of thinking…. talk about “kinky”!… ‘Better fetch her in, Lieutenant… in any case, if she IS a day-girl she’s extremely late for school, huh?! Unpunctuality most certainly calls for a summary and exemplary punishment, would you not agree, Marietta?… and you, Freddy? I have to confess,’ he added with a sidewise glance at the corner where the cane now rested, ‘that the events of the last twenty minutes or so DO rather seem to have given me an appetite… one way or another…. — oh! not to worry, Head Girl, I AM bearing in mind her tender years, and you may rest assured my plans for her do NOT include a repetition of those rather more advanced… er… exercises which you and I subsequently embarked upon… no doubt one or other of your prefectorial pals might qualify in that direction, after I have caned them tomorrow morning, but in the meantime I am confident that Freddy here will be glad to oblige as a stand-in should I prove unduly enthusiastic, say — and following my suitable chastisement of that naughty little minx over there, appear to be considering something which might be deemed rather less suitable at her age — whereas quite clearly my esteemed Lieutenant is of an eminently-suitable age and development for either or both spheres of activity… eh, Frederika darling? — ALWAYS ready and willing to drop her knickers, I can assure you, Marietta — aren’t you, Lieutenant Frederika Meyer?!
Oh! — a right proper bastard my Kurt can be, when he wants!

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