The verdant woods are bursting with late Spring growth on this glorious hot May afternoon. The light green canopy of oak and birch filters the sun down onto wide expanses of dazzling bright bluebells. All is silent apart from the occasional chatter of a Spring-inspired forest bird. Otherwise tranquil silence. Certainly no sight or sound of human presence to mar this idyllic scene.
But somewhat further on, a bit deeper into the wood with all at first sight just as tranquil and untouched by the feet of blundering humans, there are voices. Human voices. A man’s and a female voice. The man intoning and the female voice responding with a giggle. The voice of a girl, teenage probably.
Can we perhaps get a look at this invasion from the so-called civilised world? If we can cautiously advance a little closer… Yes, in this clearing. Is it a man? It is but he is clad in a short-trousered outfit. A scout — or more likely perhaps a scoutmaster. Khaki shirt and the shorts, with a black beret on his head. He is standing close to a tree, with a teenaged girl. She is in what looks like a Girl Guide’s uniform: blue blouse and shortish dark blue skirt; white knee socks.
She is standing at the man’s side but on the seat of a flimsy canvas camping chair so that her head (with tumbling blonde locks) and shoulders are above her companion. Her hands are on the bole of the tree which they appear to be inspecting.
‘The English oak,’ the man states. ‘Quercus robur. Perhaps our finest forest tree.’
The girl makes a giggling acknowledgement at this information, and squirms somewhat precariously on the flimsy chair. The squirming, and perhaps the giggle too, are occasioned by the scoutmaster’s hand. It is up the back of her short skirt. On her bottom.
If we have very good eyesight we could see something else. Some flimsy material (pale pink) half-protruding from the man’s left trouser pocket. This in fact is a certain female undergarment: to wit a pair of girl’s knickers. They are the Girl Guide’s (if that is what she is) knickers. This pretty, tousled-blonde-haired girl standing on the camping seat does not therefore at this moment have any knickers on. No knickers under that short skirt. Where the scoutmaster has his hand. So the hand is on her bare bottom. Which may well explain the squirming. And that half giggle? Could she perhaps be enjoying the manual attention.
‘Can you recognise the English oak, Amanda? Do you know its salient features?’
Whether Amanda can or not is not clear. As she makes a ‘Goo… Oooh!!’ sound. This sound is nothing to do with English oaks. It is everything to do with the hand between Amanda’s legs. Because the hand has now slid in between her thighs. In between at the very tops. To take hold of her pretty pussy. She performs a more violent gyration of her bottom and thighs, causing her to almost fall off the chair.
‘Tree identification forms the first part of the Woodcraft Test,’ the man tells her. ‘Identification of six common English trees in summer and winter. Winter of course is more difficult but summer should be easy.’
As he is talking he is continuing to work at the girl’s pussy. He has her slim but shapely body pressed hard up against the smooth bole of the tree now. Her hips and groin in particular. In order to keep her balance with what is happening Amanda has spread her arms and is clasping the tree with both hands. Her bottom is now sensuously shaking and jerking. With her thighs slackly spread to facilitate full access to the male hand and its manipulating fingers.
No, it is not at all clear what Amanda knows about trees.
She has not replied to the questions and indeed the subject seems to have been now forgotten by the scoutmaster. She is making groaning sounds now. Groans of pleasure. Orgasmic groans and shudderings. Quite simply her companion seems to be bringing her off. Bringing this pretty Amanda to orgasm. And the question has to be asked: isn’t what we observe a little unusual? Is this what a Girl Guide can normally expect on a Woodcraft expedition? Is it indeed what a girl’s mother assumes will happen when she places her daughter in what most people assume are the very reliable hands of the local Girl Guide Unit?
What needs to be said perhaps is that Amanda Parsons, whom we have seen in the wood, is not in a normal Girl Guide unit. Her instructor and companion is not exactly a normal Girl Guide instructor either. No. His name is Alfred Minley. And the name Alfred Minley is not one recognized by that august body, the Girl Guides Commissioners, whose duty it is to ensure standards and quality throughout the Girl Guide organisation. For one thing it is common knowledge that virtually all approved Guide leaders are women. No doubt one reason for this is that the Commissioners may consider in their wisdom that it is not wise to allow a male to have close and intimate access to their nubile members. (Not of course that a woman instructor may not as easily have things in her mind regarding her charges over and above — well Woodcraft say. But probably the Girl Guide Commissioners do not think of this.) But anyway Mr Minley is clearly not a woman. No. And nor is he an accredited Guide instructor.
What Mr Minley used to be was a scoutmaster. Perhaps he became bored with that, at any rate he is not one any longer. What Mr Minley now has is his own little group of ‘Guides’ — but they are not official Girl Guides such as the Girl Guides Commissioners would recognise. Mr Minley’s group is his own special unit, recruited in his home base of Little Wimbury and in other nearby villages. And the key factor here is that Alfred Minley runs Little Wimbury’s only general store. And it is a fact (though not of course to be publicly acknowledged) that ladies who permit (or actually instruct) their daughters to join Mr Minley’s little band may expect to obtain merchandise at Mr Minley’s store at significantly reduced prices.
With Mr Minley being an ex-scoutmaster of unblemished reputation why should a mother not be happy to allow her daughter to join his group? After all Woodcraft and the like are most healthy and indeed potentially useful pursuits. Much better for Susan and Emily or whoever it is to be thus engaged rather than hanging about on street corners. And there is no official Girl Guide unit in the area.
In fact a certain local lady, Mrs Hallcroft, did think of starting up a group about a year ago. Only to have Alfred Minley make it clear to her that this would not be welcome. Mrs Hallcroft reconsidered, and the unwelcome threat of competition was removed. So Alfred Minley still has his girls.
Amanda Parsons for one. Amanda who on this Saturday afternoon in early May is out in the wood with Alfred. Working for her Woodcraft badge, or at least that is the idea. Amanda is one of Alfred’s favourites. Not because of her knowledge of Woodcraft, or indeed any other particular skill that one might care to mention. But she is a very accommodating and cooperative girl. Some girls even after you have spent a good deal of time training them are not very accommodating.
It is much nicer if a girl is accommodating, and also pretty of course. But then Alfred Minley is not interested in recruiting a girl to his little band if she is not pretty, with also a nice shapely body. Amanda is very pretty with a very lovely shape. A lovely body.
Amanda and Mr Minley have now left that clearing where they were examining the oak tree — and as we saw were also examining something else: namely Amanda’s ability to have a big and quite noisy, jerky-bottomed orgasm. Amanda’s ability in that latter test was clearly not in doubt, she passed it with full marks. But regarding the former, well Alfred Minley is going to have something to say about that.
With Amanda carrying the canvas chair they have now walked further into the wood, some 200 yards, to another clearing where they have earlier deposited their rucksack. Now sleeping bags have been unrolled onto the grass and bluebells and a little primus stove has been set up. The sleeping bags do not indicate an overnight stay, but they are useful to sit on. Or of course lie on. The primus is to make some tea, which task Amanda, kneeling on a sleeping bag, is currently engaged in.
‘We’re going to need a little something,’ Mr Minley says. ‘For those trees. That was not very good.’
Amanda gives a little squeal of protest. He is seated next to her, on the canvas chair. She knows what ‘a little something’ can mean regarding her inability to name identifying characteristics of oak and birch. It can mean the cane. Or at least having her bare bottom spanked. Possibly as soon as she has made the tea and he has hopefully pronounced it good and then quaffed it down.
Is it possible that if her tea is especially good it might make up for the failure regarding the trees? No, Amanda doesn’t really think so. Probably more likely if the tea is not good she will get an extra spanking, because the ability to make decent tea either at Mr Minley’s home or out in the woods is another basic requirement for a girl in Mr Minley’s little band. But usually Amanda’s tea passed muster. Not like Susan’s for instance. Susan has great difficulty making an acceptable cup of tea. Susan is always getting her bottom spanked or caned over her tea.
Leaning over the billy can Amanda gives another sharp squeal. This time it is Alfred Minley’s hand. Again you say! Yes, it has slid up under the rear of her short skirt. Amanda of course is still without her knickers. On an expedition such as this to the wood a cooperative, accommodating girl like Amanda will have her knickers off from the moment they get out of Mr Minley’s car. For contingency purpose as he will say.
With a girl who has not reached quite the same degree of cooperativeness, well, maybe yes and maybe no. Alfred Minley will certainly endeavour to get them off as soon as possible, but a girl whose cooperativeness is still being developed may require some persuading. And naturally one does not want scenes — especially involving the removal of a girl’s knickers — in a public place.
But yes, Amanda’s pink knickers are off and Mr Minley’s hand is up in the highly erogenous zone again. Which can well cause a girl to give a little squeal.
‘Oooh! You’ll make me spill the tea!’ Amanda shrills. Not being reluctant to dramatise matters she adds, ‘Or I’ll have the primus over and the whole place ablaze!’
‘I don’t think so,’ says Mr Minley, his fingers working. ‘Now then what about that Sophie?’
Ah, this is something else! Sophie Stevens. The Stevenses have recently come to live in Wimburyford, the next village to Little Wimbury. The daughter Sophie is really choice: Amanda’s age, a little bit taller, also blonde and just as attractive and shapely. Naturally Alfred wants her in his Guide Group. Indeed he can hardly wait to have her in the group. Alfred may have Amanda and Susan and the others already, all lovely girls and all more or less cooperative and accommodating to his whims. What more could a man want? Well what he can want is this new Sophie. Like a small boy with sweets, what he has in his hands is not enough if he thinks he can get another one.
Amanda has been detailed to make contact with Sophie and expound to her the many great pleasures of becoming one of Mr Minley’s Guides. Naturally Amanda hasn’t got to be too specific as to what these pleasures are, because until you know a girl you cannot be too sure what pleasure she takes from certain activities. Or how she will react to various familiarities. A man needs to lead a new girl on cautiously, rather like an unbroken young mare. So Amanda has to tread a careful path. But if she can… Mr Minley is going to be grateful. It is likely for instance that he will rescind any promised canings. Or at least convert them to not-so-awful spankings.
‘Yes! I have! Spoken to her!’
Amanda words come out in a staccato, exclamation-mark-ridden way because of Mr Minley’s hand. His fingers. They are doing what they are very good at doing. Which is getting Amanda all hot and jumpy. A man’s hand right there will of course do that. Amanda as we know has just recently come, standing on that camp chair, but that does not stop a girl getting all hot and bothered again if a man starts giving her the business. A girl can’t help it. And Mr Minley is now giving Amanda the business as she kneels on the sleeping bag.
Alfred Minley is doing it but at the same time he is thinking of that Sophie. Amanda is a lovely girl and so responsive. She comes like a dream. But he can’t help thinking of that new Sophie. Thinking of having her in his Guide group. Having her out here in the wood. Having her in his guide den, up in the loft in his house… Yes that Sophie.
Amanda has now let go of the billy can and has dropped her hands down on the sleeping bag. On hands and knees, her thighs spread, her ripe round bottom squirming. Alfred Minley’s fingers in her pussy, at her hot clit, have got her going alright. Amanda is almost there, close to coming again. Yes she is a really lovely girl — but Alfred can’t help thinking about that Sophie. What will she be like. On this sleeping bag say. Or of course up in his snug loft…
Alfred Minley’s loft is his Guide snuggery. It is where he repairs with his Guides when they visit his house at the edge of the village. Up here is a snug little Guide world under the angling rafters. There are some chairs and a wooden desk where Alfred keeps his Guide records. There is a primus for brewing up tea camp-style. And to one side there is a bed: nothing fancy, a single bed with a simple cover. Yes his loft is very simply furnished but contains all the basics that a man may need for meetings with his Guides. The whole group, perhaps, or of course the girls singly.
The whole group now consists of five Guides. Because now there is Sophie Stevens. There has not been a meeting of all five yet because Sophie is such a new recruit. So new in fact that today is her first visit to Mr Minley. Her first visit to the loft. For the purpose of being measured for her uniform. So it is just Sophie, none of the other Guides. It is important to have a girl alone for the business of measuring.
Amanda has done a good job. Of enthusiastic but of course discreet and limited explanations. The other thing is that Alfred has had his chat with Mrs Stevens, mother of the choice girl. Mentioning his little Guide group. This public spirited venture on his part to provide a healthy outlet for some of the local teenage girls. Sophie was most welcome to join — and indeed he believed she had already expressed an interest to one of the members, Amanda Parsons. Then Alfred went smoothly on to refer to his cut-price arrangements for favoured customers.
Well, what sensible mother could refuse her daughter taking up this attractive offer? Especially after Alfred has added his ex-scoutmaster credentials. What a nice person, such a concerned citizen, Mr Minley was! She would see that Sophie was available for the very next Guides meeting. Alfred, smiling perhaps a little greedily, said a pre-meeting would be best, to measure Sophie for her uniform. That would be the first thing. And if Mrs Stevens would care to give him a list he would arrange a first delivery of requested provisions the very next day.
Yes all has gone splendidly. Amanda has had two canings that were due reduced to spankings. And Sophie is now here! The entirely delectable Sophie. In this snug loft where Alfred has had so many wonderful experiences in the past.
What a truly lovely girl! In her blouse and skirt which give thrilling indication of the delectable figure underneath. She is smiling somewhat shyly. Unsure of herself perhaps. What does she know? What exactly has Amanda told her? And also… what does this girl know in general? Any particular… ah… experience..?
‘Yes. The uniform,’ Alfred says in smoothly reassuring tones. ‘That’s the first thing. A girl has to have her uniform. And of course she has to be measured for it.’ He is keeping his voice nice and steady. Keeping the excitement out of it. ‘So we’d better have your things off, eh?’
Sophie’s big blue eyes are questioning. Has she expected this? Has she had any experience of this before? Of being measured. By a gentleman, that is.
‘Yes we’ll need all your things off, Sophie. It’s usual of course. We’ve got to get your measurements just right.’
The big blue eyes widen with this information. Plus there is a distinct flush to the pretty cheeks. Has the lovely girl experienced this before and is flushing at the memory? Or is she simply picturing it: her nude body… and Mr Minley’s hands with the tape. Because he did say… all your things off…
‘Have you… ah… been measured before Sophie? With all your clothes off I mean?’
‘N… N… No…’ she breathes. Her pink tongue comes out to moisten full pink lips. ‘No Mr Minley.’
‘Ah well then.’ Alfred feels a distinct stiffening in the front of his scoutmaster shorts. A discreet tenting out to accommodate his stiffening penis. ‘Ah well, there’s nothing to worry about. Just… get your things off.’
‘A… All my things…’
‘Yes of course.’ Alfred’s voice brisker now. One does not want to get involved in procrastination or, worse, argument. ‘Well, you can keep your shoes and socks on. But there’s nothing to worry about. I mean there’s no one here to see. Is there?’
No there is no one. Except Alfred Minley of course. Eager-eyed and now with a tape measure in his hands. It is no doubt a scary prospect for an inexperienced girl. Although we don’t really know how far Sophie is quite inexperienced. She says she hasn’t been measured but that is only one thing. A girl can have plenty of other experience besides being measured. But she does look apprehensive. Scared in fact. Of this prospect of having to reveal all she’s got. Trying to force a nervous little smile. As she begins.
Alfred greedy-eyed, and a little hot-faced. His organ is really quivering, as the garments one by one come fumblingly off. The blouse… and then the skirt. Sweet Sophie in virginal white brief knickers and bra. The sweet girl opens her soft mouth, bites the ripe lower lip. Is it not possible to take measurements perfectly well in knickers and bra? One might think so — but not for Alfred Minley and his Guides. Taking all the clothes off is anyway something else too: the acceptance that a girl must keep nothing from the Leader. She must have no secrets. Well she shouldn’t have. But certainly no secrets… regarding those special parts. Boobs… and pussy.
And sweet Sophie has now done it. Everything is off and she is revealing boobs and pussy. Shyly and reluctantly and Alfred has to push away her hands which automatically seek still to hide those delicious parts. But Alfred is not reluctant to have to do this. It enables him to make that essential contact, with bare flesh. Sophie shivers. Shudders. Whimpers. As his hands go to various places. Mr Minley is saying he wants her up on the chair. Standing on the chair. Sophie is feeling just a little faint.
Continued in Passing the Test.