From New Blushes 2.12 continuing the story from the previous edition.
The late afternoon light produced changing effects in the viewfinder. Sometimes there was a clear view into the classroom, and then it was mostly reflections. Odd effects sometimes. An apparently headless girl… with her bottom bare… He wondered how the shots would come out. Would the film also record these weird effects? Probably. But he was sure he had plenty of good straight shots of the three participants in the seductive little cameo.
Mr Elway of course, the senior English master, he was recognisable enough. And the two girls: one of them he didn’t know, but the other was Annabel Ashby. She was the means by which he came to be here on a cold and wintry afternoon observing this remarkable scene from the snow-dusted shrubs. And with the long lens camera pointed…
He clicked the shutter again. Annabel was over the chair. Her ripe bare bottom thrust up for the master’s pleasure. His fondling hand, and of course the cane. The cane would come whipping in… followed by an interval. During which the bending girl no doubt yelped and gasped (though he could only guess at this) and her bottom clenched and writhed. Then Mr Elway’s hand came in again, for more solicitous fondling. Groping in other words. And then the cane… again…
Elway had given her quite a few now, spaced out in this manner. Each of them leaving a bright red stripe. A most stimulating sight — or it would be if it weren’t for the cold and rather uncomfortable position he was in. But it would be worth it. Oh yes, no doubt about that. First the highly titillating pleasure of viewing what the camera and its long lens had recorded. And then no doubt further subsequent pleasures too.
He clicked the shutter again. Getting he thought a particularly good shot of Annabel’s bottom, just after the cane made yet another mark. Her thighs had splayed apart, giving a quick view of the split of her pussy. Hopefully the camera had caught that too…
Yes the delightful Miss Ashby. She had phoned him a couple of weeks ago about an assignment she wanted to do for the school magazine. He had naturally said he would see her — hoping of course that she would prove to be one of the good-looking ones. And she had! Tall and slim, and those glasses if anything adding a sort of sophisticated sexy look. He had given her a glass of white wine. And then another. Pretty Annabel wasn’t used to wine… and quite soon she wasn’t too sure what was happening.
He had her on the sofa and could probably have screwed her. No doubt an unscrupulous individual would have done. He had contented himself with feeling her nice boobs, though, and the shapely thighs under her skirt. But the main thing was he had jokingly said, ‘Maybe I should take your knickers down and spank your bottom. Isn’t that what those masters do?’
It was just a joke of course, he didn’t imagine for one moment that any of them actually did. Annabel had giggled. She was trying to prevent his hand going too far up her skirt as he said it. She said something that he didn’t catch and he made her repeat it. She didn’t want to but he made her. ‘Or I will spank your bottom!’
That was the start of the big revelation, reluctantly dragged out of her and aided by another refill of her glass. The remarkable matter of Special Detentions. Which a certain master would apparently impose on chosen girls who for various reasons could not refuse. These Special Detentions involved not just spanking but the cane.
Of course once he had that he just had to have the master’s name. Annabel was in quite a fuddled state now, but had enough capacity for rational thought left to realise she had probably said too much. She was most reluctant to say any more, but he assured her there would be no problems. Neither for her nor the master in question. Who turned out to be, after more pressure was applied, none other than Mr George Elway the Senior English master.
Well, well! Who would have believed it!
A little bit later Annabel said she thought she should go. She wasn’t feeling very well. She certainly shouldn’t have drunk all that wine (was it three glasses? she couldn’t remember). Also she hadn’t really got anything which could be used for a write up in the magazine, and she was in no fit state to pursue that now. The main thing, though, was what she had told Mr Bodrell. Because Mr Bodrell was chairman of the school governors. There were bound to be repercussions.
But there didn’t seem to be. Nothing that Annabel was aware of at least. No one said anything to her. Not the Head. Or Mr Elway. Mr Elway seemed just the same. Which meant that when he had you standing by his desk he would grope your bottom, and he still did that. But he had made no mention of Mr Bodrell or anything.
Annabel began to wonder if perhaps she had imagined it, and hadn’t really told Mr Bodrell. It was possible with all that wine she had drunk. She had really thought she was going to be sick! She would certainly know next time to say no thanks. But as regards telling Mr Bodrell about Special Detentions, well, maybe she hadn’t. That would be a relief. It wasn’t that she enjoyed them (certainly not!), but she would rather have them than have people know what Mr Elway had found out about her and Robert.
No, George Elway hadn’t heard anything. A week had passed since that last Special Detention, the one on the snowy Tuesday. When for some reason he had been feeling a bit jumpy. Now… he was beginning to get the urge to have another. A couple of other girls were due. So maybe next week. Tuesday or Wednesday…? Yes, that familiar itch was coming on him again. The itch to get to grips with a pretty girl’s bare bottom…
And then when he was just about ready to take the plunge with another Detention — he got the phone call from Mr Bodrell. Mr Bodrell who was of course chairman of the governors. Would he like to come round one afternoon after school, for a drink?
He said yes of course. Well, you couldn’t refuse such an invitation from the chairman of the governors. But… what could be the reason? Discreet inquiries at school did not indicate any other member of staff who had been invited. It seemed to be just himself.
Did the thought then cross George’s mind that the Special Detentions could be involved? The answer was yes it did. But as quickly as the thought came he dismissed it. Because how could Mr Bodrell have any possible idea?
It was a shock undoubtedly. The biggest and worst shock of his life. When Mr Bodrell produced the pictures. After a glass of wine and some initial general chat as they sat in his pleasant lounge, which had given no indication whatever of what was to come. The sudden seemingly off-hand production of the folder of pictures.
‘What do you think of these? A Special Detention I believe…’
Yes that is what they were alright. Glossy colour prints of excellent clarity. Showing himself and the two girls.
‘Go on, take a proper look,’ Mr Bodrell urged. ‘There are some good shots there.’
And there were, undeniably. As George leafed through with trembling hands. In purely objective terms they were excellent photos. Some odd effects sometimes with reflections, so that a girl’s head or some other part might be obliterated by the reflection of the bushes. But apart from that, crystal clarity. And a full record of the action. Annabel over the chair. Having her knickers taken down. Her lovely bare bottom. And then the cane. Wielded by himself of course. Yes, undeniably George Elway at work with the cane. Mr George Elway, senior English Master, caning a girl pupil’s bare bottom. With successive shots showing the result of his handiwork. The bright red stripes… and getting in some groping of the girl’s bare bum too. Oh yes, don’t forget that because it also had been recorded with sharp clarity.
And then Barbara. The same. A full record of Barbara Lyons’s bare bottom getting the same treatment.
What could he say. They were clearly photographs taken at his last Detention, you could see the snow in some of the reflections. There was nothing he could say. Nothing to be said. George felt as if there were a large empty void in his stomach. And he was about to drop down into the void. And it wouldn’t be so bad, because he wanted to disappear.
Mr Bodrell, taking back the prints, said, ‘I’m a bit of an amateur photographer. Well, as you can see.’
There was nothing George could say to that either.
‘I got the tip-off from young Annabel actually. But you mustn’t blame her. I rather pressurised her into telling me.’
‘Ah…’ George breathed resignedly. He didn’t want to know the details. It was what he had always feared would happen, the thought of it always there lurking in the back of his mind. And now without doubt he was going to be kicked out. In disgrace.
Mr Bodrell reached for the wine bottle and topped up their glasses. ‘I’ve… ah… got a little proposition,’ he said confidentially.
It is Sunday now, a week later. Annabel is standing quite close to the window. Mr Elway’s wide picture window, that is. She is standing by the chair on which are piled some of her clothes. Because Annabel is wearing only a white sleeveless vest and her high heels. The vest is short, barely reaching to her waist, leaving quite bare her shapely hips and bottom and also in front her pussy as well.
And what else is this? Outside the window. Two men. One with a camera. The two are Mr Elway and, the one with the camera, Mr Vincent Bodrell, chairman of the governors. Remarkable? Yes certainly.
A little later Annabel has removed the vest, so that she is quite nude now apart from the black high heels. She stands facing the window with her arms folded behind her back. Outside Mr Bodrell is focusing his camera. Looking at different angles. He is interested in getting special shots…
Yes, it is almost a week after Mr Elway’s visit to Mr Bodrell. Sunday morning and incidentally there has been another light fall of snow. Sunday morning is good from the point of view of privacy, no one is going to be around. But in any case Mr Elway can keep a bit of a watch, while Mr Bodrell gets his special shots. Because of course they are now in this together. Special Detentions, and special photo sessions, George Elway now has a colleague.
That of course was Mr Bodrell’s little proposition. He wanted to get in on the act in other words. No question of reporting George Elway, nothing like that. If Vincent Bodrell could be a participant.
The proposal took George by surprise undoubtedly. He couldn’t take it in at first. When he did that feeling of a desperate void within him changed abruptly to a sense of great peace and tranquillity. Like standing at the gates of Heaven and being warmly welcomed in. Of course Mr Bodrell could participate. Whatever he wanted.
Mr Bodrell went further. He suggested that if George wished, Special Detentions could be held there, at his house. So much better from the point of view of privacy.
In the sitting room, which gave onto a very private garden, and in any case the curtains could be drawn. Or in one of the bedrooms.
George thought this a most excellent idea. It was agreed that he would hold some of his Special Detentions there. And also Mr Bodrell would have his own sessions with the girls too. Annabel has now already had one of these sessions with Mr Bodrell. It was in the bedroom. He gave her the cane. And also wanted other things too. Her eyes widened afterwards when she thought about it — but it hadn’t hurt, like the cane did of course. It wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle. In fact, well, it had been a bit of a turn-on.
So it looks as if the Special Detentions, and now the special additions with Mr Bodrell, are set to continue. This morning is a special, Mr Bodrell wanting to augment the set of photographs he had taken earlier. And when they have finished the photo session here, in Mr Elway’s room, Annabel is going back with Mr Bodrell to his place. For some sort of session or other.
Annabel thinking of this as she stands nude now with her arms folded behind her back, feels a little frisson of excitement. Her pussy sort of trembling.