From New Blushes Uniform Girls 2.09
It was six o’clock so Fiona’s husband Steve was due home at any moment. It was also Wednesday and Wednesday was of course the day their daughter Susan had to go round to Mr Forder’s. Mr Forder was her form master at school and Susan had been late on several occasions, in spite of her mother’s dire warnings. So that was where Susan was at this moment. Getting what? The cane? Fiona, in the kitchen, bit her lip.
Would James Forder cane Susan? Fiona didn’t like to think about it but it was difficult not to. Fiona was now in the Upper Sixth and girls who continued into the Upper Sixth at Uplands School could be caned for misdemeanours, parents were required to sign their agreement to this.
Would Mr Forder cane a girl for being late for school? Susan had reluctantly admitted that it was three times now. So maybe Mr Forder had decided that he would give her something to buck her ideas up. The cane…
The thought of pretty 17-year-old Susan having her bottom caned made Fiona Morley go all hot and cold. Fiona hadn’t wanted to think about it. Hadn’t wanted to think of the possible details. But now, since this morning, there was something else. Something to put the awful possibilities into unpleasantly clear focus. That morning Fiona had happened to see Anne Southans whose daughter Cherie had left Uplands in the summer. And Anne had told Fiona something about disciplinary visits to Mr Forder’s house…
Just then there was the sound of the side door opening. It was Steve, home from the office. Fiona greeted him with a rather nervous kiss. Steve knew about the possibility of the cane of course. But he didn’t know about that other thing Anne Southans had told her and Fiona didn’t think she was going to tell him. Could Anne have made it up? Or maybe Cherie had made it up.
What Anne had said was that Mr Forder made girls take off all their clothes. And then put on a nightdress. Just a wispy, insubstantial nightdress, with nothing underneath. For their punishment.
Susan said hesitantly, Uh… you said to come and tell you when I was ready, sir.’
Mr Forder was sitting by the television set. Something was on, a film perhaps, but she didn’t take it in, she was too nervous. Nervous because she didn’t know what was coming next. And it was bad enough already, with what she was now wearing. Or not wearing. She was in just this nightdress, nothing else.
Susan had arrived ten minutes ago. She hadn’t really known what to expect. And Mr Forder, who had changed from his school suit and was now in a sports shirt, had told her to go upstairs and put on the nightdress. Take all her things off and put on the nightdress.
He turned to look at her now. Ah I see. Good. Mmm… It suits you. Don’t you think?’
It had been up there on the bed. A pretty cotton nightdress with vertical pastel-shade stripes which did in fact set off perfectly Susan’s pretty peaches-and-cream looks and her mass of golden-blonde hair. It was nightshirt-style with a high neck and long sleeves with cuffs, and a rounded hem reaching to mid-thigh at front and back but cut away at the sides where it reached only to her hips.
Susan flushed. She couldn’t help being ultra-conscious of the revealing nature of this garment she had been required to put on, and ultra-conscious too of her body beneath it. At 17 a girl did tend to be very aware of her body. Of its burgeoning ripeness and roundnesses. Its womanly potential. And having to stand thus scantily-clad in front of Mr Forder…
Mr Forder was not old, maybe thirtyish. In the opinion of a lot of girls he was quite good-looking. Some of them fancied him. They would perhaps like to be here. Standing here like this. But Susan certainly didn’t. No…! She could feel her body trembling.
His eyes seemed to be piercing the insubstantial material. ‘And nothing underneath, Susan? As I requested. No… knickers… or bra…’
She squirmed. ‘N… No sir…’ Thinking momentarily of that little bedroom upstairs. Her clothes neatly folded on the bed. Including her knickers and bra which she had finally reluctantly removed.
He smiled. ‘No. Well I can see that. More or less. I guess I can see there’s nothing underneath. Are you warm enough like that? You can warm yourself if you like. By the radiator. Stand close. And pull the gown up.’
She flushed some more. Shaking her head. She was feeling shivery but it was nervousness rather than being cold. She certainly didn’t want to stand holding the gown up.
‘I… I’m OK sir.’
‘Oh I should, Susan.’ Mr Forder’s voice was a little harder. ‘Warm your bottom. Of course if you prefer I can warm it with the cane.’
Her heart gave a jolt. At that word! Was she going to be caned? It was possible, she knew her parents had been required to sign that form now she was in the Upper Sixth. And girls did speak about it of course. In whispers, or giggles. So it happened. Maybe anyway, because you never knew if whispers were really true. But the other thing had been true alright. Because there had been giggly whispers too that sometimes he had you in just a nightgown, with all your clothes off. Yes, some girls had been really excited at the thought.
But the actuality for Susan anyway, was just awful. Standing in front of him like this, virtually nude. And the cane…?
‘No, I… OK…’ She stepped back towards the radiator. Then doubtfully raised the back of the gown. To bare her bottom. But careful to keep the front down over the tops of her thighs. Over her pussy.
‘Isn’t that better?’
‘Yes. Yes sir.’ She could feel the heat on her bare bottom now.
‘Stand a little closer. Get it nice and warm.’
‘No, it’s OK, sir. Really.’
‘Really? Well, as I say I can always warm it up a bit more with the cane. If necessary. I like a girl to have a nice warm bottom before we proceed.’
Susan made a panicky little squeaky sound. She shuffled closer to the radiator.
‘I am close, sir. Now. Really close. And sir, I won’t be late again. Not any more.’
She could feel the heat now alright. The radiator was very hot and her bottom was seemingly only millimetres away. Any closer and her bare flesh would touch it. She could imagine the hot, searing pain. Like the cane…! Susan gave a little moan.
‘I’m glad to hear you don’t intend to be late again, Susan. That is very good news. It’s the reason why you’re here this afternoon of course. So that I can give you something to ensure you won’t want to be late any more.’
She felt herself trembling. He meant the cane. Mr Forder was going to cane her anyway…
‘How’s that bottom coming on? Nice and toasty?’
‘Uh… yes sir… It’s really hot…’
‘Good. Come here then. Let me check And keep the gown up. Right up round your waist.’
She stumbled forward. It was a relief to have her bottom away from the scorching heat of the radiator. But at the same time she wasn’t at all happy about having to come and stand close to Mr Forder. With her hot bottom bare.
He was patting the stool which was close at the side of his television chair. ‘Let’s have you kneeling up on here. With the gown still up of course.’
Oh!! That was even worse! Susan felt the urge to bolt for the door. She did her best to control her panic. Making herself climb onto the stool. On it she was only inches from Mr Forder. Her nude bottom…
She felt his hand on her bare leg.
‘Are you shivering, Susan? You’re not nervous, are you? Not shy? You’re not perhaps… unhappy… at having your bottom bare..?’
‘Y… Yes sir.’ The hand had slid up. Up the bare back of her thigh. And she was certainly trembling now.
‘I am, sir. Nervous. At… being like this…’
‘Ah. And nervous perhaps at the thought that you could be having this caned…?’
She gasped some sort of answer. His hand was on her bottom. Patting the soft flesh that was still very hot from the radiator.
‘But you should have thought of that when you were not bothering to be on time for school. Shouldn’t you? Thought of the possible consequences.’
The hand had taken hold of one cheek of her bum and was jiggling it in an awful way. She felt a bit faint.
‘Yes sir. And I w…won’t… Ever d…do it again…’
The hand slapped her burn. ‘Well that’s alright for the future then. Or we hope it is. But what about what’s already done? I expect you agree you need something for that?’
‘I… I… Not the cane, sir. Pl… Please… not the cane…’
He was still fondling her bare bum. ‘No, Susan? You’re not at all keen on the cane. Is that what you’re saying? Well, we could try something else.’
He smacked her bum again. ‘Get down off the stool. And let’s have you standing astride it. One leg either side. OK? With the gown still nice and high of course.’
Her mind flickered over his words. Standing like that, with her legs quite wide apart. And of course with no knickers on. Or anything. Apart from this diaphanous gown that she had to hold up clear of her bottom, though she was still doing her best to see that it stayed down at the front. Over her pussy. But if she had to stand with her legs wide apart, well…
But if it was that or the cane…
She began to climb shakily down from the stool. Mr Forder’s hand was still at her bare bum, but it moved as she moved. It stayed there but slid around. And as she reached one foot down to the floor and inevitably parted her legs in the process… the hand was ready… It slid in between her thighs.
Susan gave a shocked yelp. As she found his hand between her legs. High up. And briefly it was right there. At her pussy…
The hand carne away, leaving her hot-faced and gasping. ‘Now stand over the stool.’ Mr Forder’s voice was cool and matter-of-fact. As if he had done nothing out of the ordinary Certainly nothing as shocking as having his fingers between her legs at her pussy.
And Susan knew that when she was standing like he wanted her… he was going to do the same again…
She tried to control her agitated breathing.
‘Come on. Or shall I get the cane out?’
She stepped forward. Astride the stool.
‘That’s it.’ His hand came back, squeezing the back of her knee.
‘You need to jump to things a bit more, Susan. Maybe that’s how you get to be late for school. Mooning around. Not getting on with things. Mmm?’
The hand was sliding up. Up the back of her thigh. His fingers on the inside.
‘And mooning around in bed, Susan? Yes, maybe that’s it. Mmm? You know what I’m talking about. I know girls of your age like to do it. Don’t they?’
She made a whimpering sound. His hand was way up now. And right in between her legs again. She felt a desperate need to close them — but she couldn’t because the stool was in between her legs. Or if not that bring her hand down. Put it tight over her pussy… But she couldn’t do that either. She knew Mr Forder wouldn’t want that.
‘Do you do a lot of it, young lady? Playing with yourself. Or if you want the proper word — masturbating.’
A gaspy shudder. Because now of course his hand was there. At her pussy.
‘No…ooo…!!’ she breathed.
‘Keep still. Keep your hands up. And don’t try to close your legs. I’m just checking.’
His fingers were fondling the fuzzy-haired bulge. Tracing the line of the split.
‘It’s not difficult to tell. If a girl’s been doing it a lot. She’s very sensitive. Responsive. Unless of course it’s because she’s been doing a lot of the other thing. Actual sexual intercourse. Have you been doing a lot of that, Susan?’
She was trembling now alright. Like a leaf. Because Mr Forder had his fingers inside her. Slipped inside the outer lips. And she could feel she had become moist. Wet.
‘Well you’re certainly responding, aren’t you, miss? All wet. So if you haven’t been doing the other… you must have been playing with yourself. Masturbating. And quite a lot I should say.’
It wasn’t true, she didn’t do it. Or hardly at all. Only when she was awfully tense and nervous about something, she might occasionally do it then. Not like her friend Amanda who confided to Susan that she did do it a lot. ‘All the time,’ she claimed, giggling, saying she couldn’t help herself. With her fingers — or getting astride the padded arm of a chair…
But not Susan. Or hardly ever. But Mr Forder was doing it to her now! In effect. His fingers were in her. At the sensitive inner lips. And her clitoris. Feathery fingerings that were shooting the most dreadful but at the same time exquisite sensations up through her quivering body.
She was making frantic breathy moans. As she struggled to keep still. Trying to handle it.
‘Oh yes, young lady. Very sensitive. So that’s it, isn’t it? You like to lie in bed in the morning. Doing it. Doing this…’
She desperately shook her head. Because it just wasn’t true. But she could no longer really control herself. She couldn’t keep still. Her hips were now automatically writhing on Mr Forder’s fiendish fingers.
‘Don’t lie to me. Admit it. Or maybe you do want the cane after all…’
There was nothing she could do. He was still working at her with his fingers. Getting her more and more frantic. Getting her really steamy. So that she thought she was going to come.
Just about to come…
And then he stopped.
His hand came away. And slapped her bottom. A hard cracking smack.
The shocking smack, and what had gone before, left her gasping and fighting back tears. Mr Forder was getting to his feet.
‘You were almost coining, weren’t you, young lady? Which just proves what I was saying. You do do a lot of it. Although you refuse to admit it. So I’m afraid there’s nothing for it but the cane.’
She made frantic, scarcely intelligible sounds of pleading. Mr Forder briskly told her to be quiet. He was going over to a cupboard. Then coming back. With a cane in his hand.
With the cane in his left hand he pulled her back from the stool, then put his arm round her waist. His voice was gentler again.
‘A few strokes anyway, Susan. I’m afraid that is necessary, in the interests of discipline. Shall we say three across your bottom. And after that, well, we’ll see, shall we?’
She tried to plead again, but Mr Forder told her to stop. His hand moved down to grope her bottom. As he said he wanted her to accept it in an obedient, submissive manner. If she couldn’t do that he was afraid he would have to give her a much more severe caning.
He wanted her down over the stool. Kneeling on the carpet and lying herself across it, with her head down the other side.
‘Come on,’ he urged. ‘That’s the choice. Three strokes taken willingly. Or, well, at least twice that number.’
And so Susan permitted herself to be pushed gently down. Over the stool. Kneeling down and her bottom up over it. With the nightdress up over her back of course… She was still in quite a state, still shaking, from that other awful business. And now…
She tried to ready herself for the dreadful ordeal. Her bottom-cheeks nervously clenching. Mr Forder told her to relax her bottom…
Susan’s breath shot out in a stunned gasp. Followed by a frantic mewling sound. Her buttocks writhing in a desperate attempt to come to terms with the fiery sting.
Mr Forder’s cool voice. ‘Keep in position. And keep it still. Unless you want the extra ones.’
There was a little pause, during which the pain seemed to intensify She tried to keep her scalding bottom still…
Oh Christ! With her bottom already hot and humming the second was even worse. Impossible to handle. Her burning rear was rolling and writhing. She could take any more. She began to lift her head. But Mr Forder grabbed her and pushed her back down. Curtly telling her something but she couldn’t hear it.
The third one.
She struggled to handle the frantic pain. At least it was over. Wasn’t it? She heard Mr Forder say she could get up. But she wasn’t sure she could, not at all sure her legs would support her. It was as if the shocking pain had paralysed her. Somehow she pushed herself up from the stool.
Mr Forder had a grim smile. ‘How was it? Did you enjoy that?’
She shook her head. Her lips were all trembly and there were stinging tears welling in her eyes. He told her to stand up straight, and put her hands on her head. Then he came round behind her. In close, and his hands came round. The hands cupped her tits through the thin gown.
‘You didn’t really take it as I wanted, Susan dear. You were rolling about, and making a lot of noise.’
She felt faint, with his hands holding her tits and his body hard up against her hot bottom. And what he was saying…
‘Maybe we need to have another session, young lady.’
She stuttered out desperate pleadings.
One of Mr Forder’s hands came down and cupped her pussy.
‘Ah… alright then…?’ Susan’s mother asked nervously, and Susan said a tight-lipped, ‘Yes mother.’
But that naturally wasn’t going to be enough for Fiona. She wanted to know what had happened. Had Susan actually been caned. And the other business that Anne Southans had said. Making girls strip off… Well naturally a mother wanted to know. Although it was certainly embarrassing to have to specifically ask these things.
Susan didn’t want to say anything at all, it had all been much too awful. Why couldn’t she be left to try to forget about it? Not that she would ever be able to forget of course. And anyway the other awful thing was that it wasn’t over. She was going to have to go to Mr Forder again.
She didn’t tell her mother this right away, she was only reluctantly answering specific questions. Yes she had been caned. Yes she had had to take her clothes off, and put on a nightdress.
Yes the caning had been on her bare bottom.
That was really all she was going to say. She certainly wasn’t going to tell her mother about the rest. The business before the caning. Mr Forder’s hand between her legs. And the equally awful business afterwards.
He hadn’t caned her again. Instead… he had finished what he had started before the caning. He had brought her off with his hand…
No, she wasn’t saying any of that to her mother. But she did finally have to mention that she had to go round to him again.
For the cane again?
That was what her mother asked of course. And Susan didn’t know. He might. He had said he might. ‘If it’s necessary, Susan.’
He wanted her to go round and do some little jobs. Maybe an hour two afternoons a week. It was so he could keep an eye on her, he said, but he would pay her something for the jobs.
Susan in Mr Forder’s kitchen. She has been doing some washing up. She is not wearing that nightdress, maybe that is something to be thankful for. But she doesn’t have her skirt on. Mr Forder said she doesn’t want to get it messed up. So she is in just her blouse and knickers.
As she finishes he comes up behind her. His hands coming round. The hands cup her boobs, sending shivers through her. And then one hand slides down, to cup her pussy. That is quite a lot more shivery of course.
Mr Forder whispers something in her ear.
It is the second of these visits. After that first caning one. She hasn’t been caned again. So far. Mr Forder has mentioned the possibility a couple of times. In a jokey way. But so far… there have been other things. Like this hand now. His two hands…
His two hands and sliding down Susan’s knickers.
In her ear Mr Forder whispers something else. Something about the bedroom…