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Sunday, 3 February 2019

Amanda’s Adventures 2 — A Session in the Boiler Room

From Blushes 75
Lying in bed Amanda gazed up at the darkened ceiling. It was Wednesday night, halfway through her fourth week at St Dominic’s. She would soon have been away from Mike a whole month because they still hadn’t managed to meet since her leaving Gloucestershire. It was awful, at times she felt really desperate for him — though it had to be admitted at other times Mike was completely out of Amanda’s mind. When something particularly awful was happening to her, for instance, and there had been some pretty awful things since she had started at St Dominic’s. Some of them so awful that Amanda almost felt she must have dreamt them. Mr Lanley and the Squash Club was in that category. As was Mr Mather. Being over his lap with her knickers down, because Mr Mather had carried out that dreadful threat. (Could she have dreamt it? Amanda didn’t really think so.)
But Mike certainly occupied a great deal of Amanda’s thoughts — including unfortunately when she was supposed to be working. But especially as now, when she was lying in bed. And things hadn’t been too bad the last couple of days, nothing really nasty happening, nothing to now distract Amanda’s mind from Mike. As it happened he had called earlier in the evening and they had had a good chat, with Mike going on about how desperate he was to see her.
Amanda was getting just a little bit turned on with her thoughts of Mike. She slid her hand over and pulled up her nightie. Her fingers toyed with the crisp curls of her bush… and then slid in between her parted thighs. She was already wet from her thoughts. Thinking of Mike’s stiff penis. Poor Mike. Maybe even at this moment he was urgently pumping it while longing desperately for her…
Amanda stroked herself, groaning. She wanted Mike’s hand there. His fingers rubbing her swollen sticky-wet clit. Fingers pushing up into her. Hopefully Mike would be able to visit this next weekend. Her mother had said ‘Well maybe’ when Amanda had pleaded. She had also said ‘Aren’t there any nice boys at St Dominic’s?’ Amanda had yelped ‘No!’
Actually a couple of boys did seem interested. Robert Milner and Steve Canford. And actually they weren’t unattractive. Nothing like as attractive as Mike of course. Robert Milner had yesterday asked Amanda if she would like to go to a concert. She had said no, of course. She was too busy.
Amanda was still stroking herself. Thinking of Mike… but then somehow she was thinking of Robert. He was taller than Mike. Did he have a bigger cock? Amanda imagined being somewhere with him and… taking it out. It was really big. Her fingers curled round it. Pumping it. It was suddenly jerking. Spurting out…
‘Amanda gave a little squeal as she came herself.
She felt guilty now, from thinking those disloyal thoughts. She only wanted Mike, really and truly. It was her mother’s fault, preventing her from seeing Mike. But this weekend she would see Mike…
Amanda pulled her nightie down and turned over. Thinking of something else now. Something another girl, Sandra Phillips, had said to her. It was to do with Robert Milner. Amanda had already noticed that Sandra was keen on him and Sandra had seen Robert speaking to Amanda.
It was about old Higgins. Mr Higgins, the school caretaker. He was an oldish bloke with grizzled hair and a pot belly and a rather scary way of eyeing you. Eyeing girls that was, good-looking ones in particular. And another girl in Amanda’s class, Deborah Jenkins, had already confirmed that scary look: ‘Keep away from Higgins. He can be a bit awful if he gets hold of you.’
Amanda had asked what she meant. Deborah had rolled her eyes and just said ‘You know.’
Anyway yesterday Sandra had come up to Amanda at lunch time and quietly said, ‘How would you like a little session with old Higgins down in his boiler room? I could arrange it, you know. If you don’t keep away from Robert Milner.’
Amanda had been momentarily speechless. ‘Wha… What are you talking about?’ she had finally spluttered. ‘I’m not interested in Robert Milner if you must know. And what… what’s this about Higgins?’
‘Don’t try and kid me,’ Sandra had snarled. ‘And if you don’t know about Higgins I imagine you’d rather not. But I bet he’d be really drooling to get our nice new Amanda Wilmott down in his boiler room. And get her shovelling coal with all her clothes off.’ Sandra cackled. ‘And after that some nice fun and games, eh? Nice for George Higgins that is.’
Amanda had once again been rendered speechless. ‘You must be bonkers,’ she finally managed.
She had more or less forgotten about the incident but now following her sexy thoughts about Robert, it all came back. Shovelling coal with all her clothes off down in the school boiler room: it could only be some wild figment of Sandra’s imagination. Something thought up to try and scare Amanda. Well she wasn’t scared by such loony talk. No way. And in any case she wasn’t at all interested in Robert. Well not really. That fantasy she had just had was just that: a fantasy.
But what Sandra had said did stick in Amanda’s mind. And when she eventually got to sleep she had a nasty dream. Being in a kind of dirty underground coal hole with this horrible old bloke. In the dream Amanda couldn’t see his face but he was clearly Higgins. He made Amanda take all her school uniform off except for her shoes and socks. They were old-fashioned schoolgirl white knee-socks and shiny black strap-over shoes. She was nude except for the socks and shoes and the man was groping her nude body. His hands that were black with coal going everywhere on Amanda’s milk-white flesh.
And then she was having to shovel coal into the fierce heat of the furnace. That went on and on. She was drenched with sweat and the awful coal dust. Finally the man who had to be Mr Higgins let her stop. But then there was something even worse. He made her bend over, holding onto this iron railing… and then he screwed her. Gripping her, mounting her from behind. His big thing spearing her. He was screwing her and Amanda was moaning and groaning.
At that point she woke up. Covered in sweat.
Amanda tried to shake the awful nightmare out of her mind. Why did she have to dream such rubbish? And certainly nothing like that could really happen. For one thing she didn’t even know that St Dominic’s had anything like that awful coal boiler room. Though of course it did have Mr Higgins.
To set her mind at rest as far as possible Amanda decided to tackle Deborah again. At morning break she managed to get her alone briefly.
‘Look, tell me about Mr Higgins. And… has he got some awful coal hole place?’
Deborah gave a nervous start, glancing round as if Mr Higgins might be lurking in the vicinity ready to make a grab for her. ‘Who’ve you been talking to?’
When Amanda told her Deborah made a face. ‘Sandra’s a nasty piece of work. I should keep away from her. And of course keep away from old Higgins.’
This only made things worse. Amanda pressed Deborah. Yes Mr Higgins was in charge of the boiler room. And it was a filthy place with coal everywhere. And even worse, you could sometimes be detailed to assist Mr Higgins down there. Sorting rubbish etc.
Amanda had a vivid and sickening recall of her dream. ‘And shovelling coal?’ she blurted. ‘With… With all your clothes off!’
Deborah rolled her eyes. ‘Who said that? Sandra I suppose. I don’t know I’ve never had a boiler room detail, thank God. You can hear pretty awful rumours. But maybe they’re just that: girls with vivid imaginations.’
Amanda was feeling sick. ‘But what about Sandra then? What can she do about it? Nothing.’
Deborah shrugged. ‘Maybe she can. She plays up to the Head. Another rumour is she lets him, you know… do her. I don’t know if it’s true. But if she does — well she could just perhaps whisper something in his ear. While he was doing her maybe…’
Oh God! Thought Amanda. Oh dear Jesus! She could feel herself all nude and sweaty… and covered with disgusting coal dust. And Mr Higgins was just going to…
Was it true about Sandra and Mr Cranleigh? Could it possibly be? Yes. As it happened it could. The rumours were quite correct. The Head did screw her. He had been doing so for most of the last year, even since Sandra entered the Lower Sixth and realised she was going to have problems keeping up in a number of subjects. So she went to Mr Cranleigh and coyly indicated that perhaps they might come to some sort of understanding. Sandra imagined they might because she had heard rumours about the Head and she was of course a very attractive and curvaceous blonde. And letting Mr Cranleigh screw her… well it was a really exciting thought. A real turn-on.
So, Amanda, although she might not know it, was very much at risk. Sandra had already made her little request, on Friday. After school on Friday afternoon at the Head’s house where Sandra had gone for her regular session of so-called ‘extra tuition’. In reality a regular session of being fucked on Mr Cranleigh’s bed.
As Mr Cranleigh fucked her, Sandra had delicately breathed the name into his ear. ‘Amanda Wilmott. The new girl.’
A somewhat panted ‘Yes?’ from Mr Cranleigh. As he continued thrusting away, his erect penis exquisitely deep in Sandra.
I… think she should see Mr Higgins,’ Sandra whispered. Adding to make her point quite clear, ‘Down in the coal hole.’
Mr Cranleigh merely grunted. He was after all completely engrossed at his task. At his exquisite super-sensitive pleasure. He could allow no interference or diversion from the sheer paradise of pleasure originating in his throbbing penis and going out in sensuous waves throughout every part of his body. No, Vincent Cranleigh could not possibly consider Sandra’s request now. But he had noted it. Tucked it away in a little corner of his mind. And when very shortly he had come, spurting copiously and deliciously into Sandra…
‘What… about Amanda Wilmott?’
‘You know,’ said Sandra getting up off the bed now and looking for her knickers. ‘She needs something. A going over from old Higgins. Well I would very much appreciate it.’
‘Why not?’ said the Head. It was really only a little thing to do for Sandra. And if it would serve to keep her sweet, why not indeed? He chuckled. ‘I’m sure Higgins will appreciate the opportunity.’
The summons came on the next Tuesday so Amanda didn’t have long to wait. The message had been passed to the caretaker on Monday and he had no wish to hang about in acting on it, quite the reverse. Higgins had of course already noted the juicy new Sixth Former and had indeed been wondering whether he might proceed in some action off his own bat. But unilateral action in getting hold of girls was risky and experience had taught him caution in that direction. A word from the Head was something else, though. George Higgins had licked his lips.
Another girl had passed the message to Amanda. She had to go and see Mr Higgins at the end of school that afternoon. The messenger had smirked. Amanda thought she was going to wet her knickers. Was she dreaming this? Was she? She wet her lips and stuttered something. The girl grinned. ‘Good luck! I’ve been told… if you offer to suck him he’ll go easier on you. I wonder if that’s true?’
Amanda gritted her teeth. She wanted to cry but couldn’t give the other girl the satisfaction of seeing that. She turned away, not replying.
Mr Higgins had a little room at the rear of the main school building. It was adjacent in fact to the boiler room which was at the bottom of some steps at the side. Amanda knew where his room was though she had never had any reason to go there before. Now it was for what had to be St Dominic’s ultimate horror: presenting herself for a boiler room detail. Because there could be no doubt this was what she had to see Mr Higgins for. Sandra had carried out her threat. At four o’clock everyone else was hurrying out through the school gates. Except Amanda.
She stood at his shabby door in a blind fright. Numb with fear. Somehow she raised her hand to give an almost imperceptible knock. It was enough, probably he had been waiting, ears pricked. The door opened immediately. To show the face with its greedy piggy eyes.
‘Ah. Come in then. Young pretty Miss.’
He stood aside but not very much, leaving only a tight space between himself and the wall. Amanda slid through, getting a sharp whiff of tobacco and stale sweat. As she passed Higgins his hand slithered behind her for a quick grope at Amanda’s bottom. She gave an involuntary yelp.
The caretaker grunted and closed the door behind her. Amanda’s desperate eyes took in a small room with a scruffy armchair, a wooden upright chair and a bare scuffed wooden table on which stood a teapot and saucerless cup. A gas fire opposite the door produced a pleasant fug. It was a cosy little room, seemingly innocuous. But Amanda wasn’t going to be in here, or not for long. No, he would take her down into that awful boiler room, with its blasting heat and filthy coal dust everywhere. No! She couldn’t
Mr Higgins was closing in on her. His eyes on Amanda’s blouse front. Picturing no doubt what was in there: Amanda’s big firm tits.
‘Well, well, young lady. Welcome to George Higgins’s little abode. I was wondering when I might properly make your acquaintance, Miss Pretty Boobs. And now ‘ere you are. For old George to give a bit of training below decks, eh? Ow to keep up a good ‘ead of steam on the boiler.’
Mr Higgins was moving closer, to stand just in front of Amanda. ‘Mmm… An strap me if you ain’t even sweeter to look at up close than at a distance. Eh? Look at those lovely tits. Ain’t that the nicest pair! I reckon that must be the nicest pair in the whole school.’
Mr Higgins’s hands had reached out, to cup Amanda’s tits through her blouse. She jerked involuntarily away.
That was not the right response. Higgins glared at her. ‘Now then. Not a ‘oity-toity Miss I ‘ope. Cos I know ‘ow to deal with ‘oity-toity young ladies. Yer knickers down and my nice whippy cane. Across yer pretty bare bum.’
‘Look… please…’ He couldn’t do anything like that! Could he possibly cane her? Though caning wasn’t really as bad as what had happened in her dream.
Mr Higgins was back in close, cornering Amanda against the wall. His hands were back at her tits and… well there was nothing Amanda could do. She didn’t want a caning — or anything else. And so… she was letting horrible Higgins do it. Squeeze and grope her tits. He was licking his lips. Oh God…
‘Lovely, Miss. That’s more like it. Now then, down in the boiler room it’s very ‘ot. You’ll want to take yer things off, not bein used to that sort of ‘eat. Well we wouldn’t want you faintin.’
‘No!’ she pleaded. ‘Look… I don’t w… want to go down there. N… Not the boiler room. I ca… can’t I do something else?’
Because the girl with the message, Anna, had said… that other. You could maybe do that instead. That other… Sucking. It was too awful to think of — but what would happen in the boiler room was even more awful to think of.
‘What?’ Higgins, piggy eyes eager, was still squeezing Amanda’s tits. ‘What do you ‘ave in mind then?’
Amanda stuttered, ‘I… I…’ While the eager hands squeezed and pinched.
In the boiler room. There was an all-pervading smell of coal and the heat was suffocating. When the door to the boiler was open for more coal to go in it was like an inferno. The whole place was like an inferno, but Amanda was down here with Mr Higgins. Because when it came to the crunch she hadn’t been able to do what Anna had said. ‘Uh… nothing…’ Amanda had tailed off lamely. And Higgins had said, ‘OK. We better get goin’ then.’ And now… here they were. In this inferno.
‘OK. Now I want you to do some shovelling.’ Higgins indicated a coal shovel next to a big heap of coal. ‘But you better get yer things off first, in this ‘eat. Like I say I can’t ‘ave a girl faintin.’
‘No, please!’ Amanda yelped. ‘I’m alright really.’
Higgins simply grabbed her. ‘I told you Miss, I can’t allow it.’
His hands were pulling open the buttons of her blouse. And then at the zipper of her skirt. Pulling her things off. Amanda in just bra and knickers. ‘No!’ she yelped. But his hands were clumsily at the strap of her bra… and then yanking at her knickers. Pulling them down her bare legs. Making her step out of them. Holding her as she did so. His hands now at her nude tits. And then one hand down to the gleaming bush of her pussy. Amanda gave out a despairing moan.
The coarse hands groped her for a while and then let go. Mr Higgins was reaching for the shovel. Stepping over to the furnace and knocking open the door. The white heat poured out. He handed the shovel to the nude Amanda, still trembling from those groping hands. She stumbled forward. The caretaker’s hand smacked smartingly across her bare bottom. The heat from the open furnace was intense and she could feel the sweat already bathing her nude body. Amanda bent to dig the shovel into the pile of coal. As she did so she glimpsed Higgins out of the corner of her eye. From somewhere he had now got a cane. He was swishing it through the air.
Amanda felt a surge of panic. He couldn’t… She struggled with the shovel-load of coal… and then screamed out. That cane had sliced in across her nude sweat-slick nates. A fiendishly stinging cut. She almost went sprawling face-down in the coal heap.
‘Just a little reminder. To keep you on yer toes, Miss.’
The cane whipped in again. ‘No!’ she screamed. It felt like she had been cut in two.
Amanda managed to get four or five shovelfuls of coal into the furnace and Mr Higgins then slammed the door shut. He had given her two more with the cane and Amanda’s bottom felt like it was red hot. Killing her.
Mr Higgins was brandishing the cane again. ‘OK. Shall we ‘ave a proper go now? With the cane. Bend over and touch yer toes, young lady.’
No… oooo!’ she gasped. ‘No! No more! A… Anything else…’
And this time, having experienced that dreadful cane, Amanda meant it. Yes. She would…
‘Anything? Wot’s that then?’
Was it true? What Anna had said. It was pretty awful but couldn’t be as bad as that cane. Nothing could be. So she would do it. If that was what it took. She mumbled something.
‘Wot? I didn’t ‘ear that. Wot did you say?’
Amanda spoke more clearly this time.
Higgins cocked his head. Pretending still not to hear.
‘Wot? Show me wot you mean.’
Amanda hesitated, then got down in front of him. Kneeling on the dirty floor. Her hands went to his trousers. Well, she had done it to Mr Lanley hadn’t she? At the Squash Club. And of course Mike. Oh God, don’t think of Mike.… Could Mike possibly understand, if he knew it was this or that dreadful cane? No. No he wouldn’t. But Mike was not going to know. He wouldn’t possibly know. None of this.
She had the trousers open now. Oh God. Look… No… Imagine it’s Mike. That last time in his dad’s car. Yes. Opening her mouth. Oh God… Yes. Her eyes closed now. Imagine it’s Mike in her mouth. Not dreadful old Higgins. Yes. She was doing it. Sucking.
Mr Higgins grunting with pleasure.

1 comment:

  1. Great to see her put to work down in the grimy cellar. He gets at her tits as well as her bottom.