Search This Blog

Saturday, 31 August 2019

Self-Reliance and Discipline

By Simon Banks from Janus 28
The hot July sun glared down on the dusty mid-Wales track along which two girls were trudging. Two pretty, shapely, 17-year-old girls — Sally Mitchell, with shoulder-length blonde tresses, and Angela James whose chestnut-russet hair was cut somewhat shorter. Both were in T-shirts and abbreviated shorts and stout walking shoes with socks rolled down at their ankles, and with heavy-looking packs on their backs. Not surprisingly both girls were sweating, causing the tight T-shirts and shorts to stick to various parts of 17-year-old female anatomy.
Seeing Sally and Angela in this setting one would never have guessed that the two girls were on a course at a Finishing School, but nonetheless they were: on that section of the course known in school parlance as S-R and D. Or in English, Self-Reliance and Discipline.
It was the St Audan’s Secretarial and Finishing School, an establishment based some little distance from this remote part of Wales, in an elegant Queen Anne house set in spacious grounds in the middle of Sussex. The course lasted one year and for the previous nine months Sally and Angela, together with eight other girls, had been absorbing French and English and Current Affairs and Art History, plus Typing and Secretarial, and not forgetting D and SP (Deportment and Social Poise).
All this was now pretty much finished, leaving virtually only the aforesaid S-R and D and then their final assessments and leaving certificates.
Unlike the rest of the course, for S-R and D the girls were divided up into pairs, each of which was sent to a different venue. So those other eight girls were scattered, in twos, around various other parts of the UK, and only Sally and Angela were here on this hot and dusty Welsh track. They had been deposited two miles back, from the car of one of their course tutors, Miss Mortimer. And a further three miles along this track, if they read the map correctly, they would find the isolated farmhouse of their instructor for the next week, Mr Harvey.
He was in fact ex-Sergeant Harvey. Ex-Army trainer of paratroops and suchlike. But the girls did not know that.
They had walked for a weary hour when Angela, with the map, reckoned they had gone three miles and suggested a little reSt They sat thankfully down by the side of the road and removed rucksacks which were biting painfully into the tender flesh of young female shoulders. Both girls were sweating and aching, and both had sore feet. Groaning, they took turns gulping mouthfuls of water from their can.
Angela pointed out where they were on the map. ‘Are you sure?’ queried Sally.
Angela was not one hundred per cent sure. ‘But we should soon come to this part where the track divides.’
Perhaps they had already passed that turning. In any case the turning they did take led up through a valley and then petered out into nothing. And then going back they couldn’t find the track they were originally on.
To cut a long story short they did eventually find Mr Harvey’s farmhouse — but only after getting thoroughly lost and then fortunately coming across a man with some sheep who knew the way. By the time they finally arrived it was 7 pm, three hours later than scheduled. It was not a particularly good start for S-R and D.
They in fact met Mr Harvey a quarter of a mile along the road to his place. He had, not unexpectedly, been out looking for them. Both girls blurted out shamefaced, embarrassed apologies. Mr Harvey gave them both a keen-eyed look, but didn’t say much. Not then, at least.
He was perhaps fifty but very lean and fit-looking, with a tanned face and his brown hair, slightly grey at the temples, cut short back and sides and flattened down. His not saying anything much and the way he looked them over with those rather piercing grey eyes — well, in a way it was more disconcerting than if he had gone on at them.
But the girls relaxed a bit when inside the old farmhouse he made them some tea and gave them something to eat. They were both absolutely starving after all that walking and simply wolfed the food down. With that and having had a wash as well, everything seemed OK. And then came the bombshell.
Mr Harvey said, ‘Now you’ve had a bite to eat we may as well get the punishment for your dreadful start out of the way. Both of you take off your shorts. And if you’ve got knickers underneath, take them off as well.’
As Sally and Angela looked at him, simply struck dumb, he went to a cupboard and took out a cane. A really nasty-looking whippy cane of the sort, if rumour was correct, that they used in boys’ schools.
Angela said, ‘Look!…’ rather helplessly as both girls just stood there quite unable to believe what was happening.
His voice hard, Mr Harvey repeated, ‘Shorts and knickers off! This course is about self-reliance and discipline. You both started off showing an appalling lack of the first of those, so now we’ll see about the discipline part. Come on: look sharp!’
To reinforce his words Mr Harvey briskly whacked his cane across the back of an armchair. It made a zippy Thwack! sound. The thought of that across their bare bottoms was — well, it was scarcely credible.
‘You… you ca… can’t cane us…’ said Angela.
Mr Harvey treated her to an unblinking stare. ‘I can and I will, Miss. Unless both of you want to be sent straight back home on the bus with a zero assessment. Your parents won’t think much of that, will they? Not after forking out close to two thousand quid each for your course!’
Sally and Angela looked at each other and then desperately around. They had never been led to expect anything like this.
‘Look at it this way,’ continued Mr Harvey, his tone not quite so hard. ‘You both got off to a bad start. OK: so take your punishment and then we’ll forget the whole episode and start a fresh sheet. You’re not babies, are you?’
‘H… How many?’ whispered Angela.
‘Four each: on the bare bottom. Now come on: get those shorts and knickers off!
Well, what could they do? They looked desperately at each other again… and then first one and then the other’s hands went reluctantly to the pop-fasteners at the waists of those two pairs of very brief denim shorts; and then to the zippers. The two pairs of shorts came down.
‘Right off!’ ordered Mr Harvey, his eyes missing nothing.
And the shorts did come off, over the slippers which had now replaced the stout walking shoes. Angela had on a brief pair of semi-transparent pink nylon knickers; Susan’s were equally brief, semi-transparent white. Both girls stood cringing, hoping that perhaps this might be enough.
And the knickers. Come on: we don’t want to be all day on this.’
Even more reluctantly than the shorts, the two pairs of knickers were inched down from full rounded hips; and then under further coaxing from Mr Harvey, right off. Sally and Angela stood in front of him — red-faced, with hands covering private parts — in just T-shirts and rolled-down socks and slippers.
‘No need to be bashful!’ said Mr Harvey. ‘I’ve seen plenty of those things in my time. Anyway, you won’t be bashful by the time I’ve finished with you!’
As they both still kept their hands in front of them he barked, ‘Come on! Stand to attention! With your arms at your sides!’
Faces scarlet, they responded, exposing the two well-developed bushes which they’d been shyly hiding. It was clear at least that neither girl had dyed hair. Sally’s pubic bush was medium-blonde, a little darker than her head, while Angela’s was red-brown.
‘Good!’ said Mr Harvey. ‘Now I shall want you like that — standing at attention — before all your canings.’
All your canings!
Their looks of shock must have shown. ‘Yes, all canings, girls. Caning is my usual way of dealing with a shortcoming. A short sharp punishment and then it’s over and done with.’
He had moved round behind them, his eyes appreciatively on the two pert but full bare bottoms. And then, first from Sally and then Angela, there were audible gasps. As a firm masculine hand reached out… and casually fondled each bare bottom in turn.
But there wasn’t time for their minds to dwell on that as the hand at Angela’s bottom then pushed her briskly forward.
‘You first, Angela. Bend yourself over the table and grip the other side. Legs straight and keep your bottom still.’
Too stunned to think, Angela automatically let herself be pushed forward to the table. And then bent over it as instructed. Sally, equally stunned, looked on blankly as Mr Harvey positioned Angela, getting her in just the right posture. Then stood back and to the side. Took up the cane.
Sally watched mesmerized as the cane rose… and fell. As it landed: CRACK!… she automatically closed her eyes. There was a wild yell from Angela. Sally’s eyes opened for her to see her friend’s bare bottom doing a desperate dance — now with a bright red stripe transversely across the centre of the buttocks.
Mr Harvey waited until the bottom’s writhings had calmed down somewhat. Then the cane was moving up… and down again. CRACK!… Sally’s eyes involuntarily closed again. It was torture just standing there watching. With the thought that shortly…
Yes, shortly. Angela now with four angry stripes across her bottom and being told to get up. Her eyes wet with tears and her mouth twisting as she tried to stop from actually crying. Her two hands back to rub at the smarting bottom. And Sally being told to step forward…
At least it presumably didn’t take long: only a few hellish minutes it must have been, although in fact time seemed to stop. And then they were both standing in front of Mr Harvey again. Both trying not to cry. Both with fiendishly smarting bottoms, though perhaps Angela’s was now beginning to ease off just a little.
Mr Harvey gave them a wry smile. ‘That’s it then, girls. I know it can hurt if you’re not used to it; but after a week here you will be more used to it, of course. You can put your knickers and shorts back on now. Then we’ll have some cocoa. And we’ll also discuss the schedule for tomorrow.’
They had the cocoa and Mr Harvey outlined what they would do the next day — an expedition which would involve quite a hard walk He also asked them about themselves — their homes, what they felt about the St Audan’s course, etc. — and really he was quite pleasant. And sitting there drinking cocoa with him it was difficult to believe that shortly before he had caned their bare bottoms. And had also seen just about everything they’d got.
They went to bed early, Mr Harvey saying they had a hard day ahead. Sally and Angela were in the same room, with a double bed, which was a novelty as at St Audan’s they had all had separate rooms. They put on their nightdresses and climbed in between the sheets with still that one thought — the caning — filling both their minds.
‘I just can’t believe it!’ said Sally. ‘That he could do something like that.’
‘I can!’ replied Angela. ‘I can still feel it! Christ, did it ever sting! Mind you, some girls would be quite envious. Having a man do that to you on your bare bum. And he is a bit super in an older-man sort of way.’
‘Envious!’ said Sally incredulously. ‘You’re out of your box!’
‘No, I’m not. Didn’t you know some girls like that sort of thing. Actually — I find it a little bit arousing myself. The thought of it, that is, now that it’s over.’
Angela turned to Sally and put her arm round her waist as Sally said, ‘Now I know you’re crazy!’
‘No, I’m not And just think: he’s got us all to himself for a whole week!’
Sally groaned: and then exclaimed, ‘Hey!’ Her nightdress was rucked up round her waist and Angela’s hand had just slid caressingly down over Sally’s tenderized bare bottom.
Their alarm had been set for 7 o’clock and they woke to find bright sunlight streaming in through the window. It was obviously going to be another lovely day, but there was something else to think about first. Mr Harvey had said that as soon as they were up Sally and Angela were to come into his room. One at a time.
They had discussed last night what it was for. Angela had suggested perhaps a pep talk. Anyway she now, making a face, volunteered to go first She put her dressing gown on on top of her nightie, combed her hair and brushed her teeth, then with another grimace at Sally, went out.
Sally lay in bed wondering what was happening in Mr Harvey’s room. Her thoughts, as well, went back to the caning — and also to last night in bed before they went to sleep. She and Angela had become close friends on the course — that was why they had requested to do this S-R and D together. But there had been nothing sexual about it. Last night, though, Sally’s heart had really started pounding when Angela put her hand on Sally’s bare bottom.
Angela’s hand had wandered lightly over the nude, recently-caned buttocks and then she said, ‘Don’t you wish it was a boy in bed with you, Sally? He’d really ravish you!’
And then, giggling, Angela had kissed her on the mouth. A proper sexy kiss, pushing her tongue in. It had really been a shock — Sally had never been kissed like that before, not even by a boy. Now, in the bright light of morning, she mulled this over.
She lay there for maybe 15 minutes and then Angela came back in. Her face was very flushed and she gasped ‘Cripes!’
She wouldn’t say what had happened, though. Just, ‘You’ll see soon enough. And you better get on in there!’
In nightie and dressing gown and with butterflies in her stomach, Sally knocked at Mr Harvey’s bedroom door and went in. He was sitting up in bed, his muscular torso tanned and bare. She had the fleeting thought that under the bedclothes he was probably nude. He said Good morning, then told her to close the door. And then he told her to take her clothes off.
Sally just gaped at him.
Morning exercises,’ Mr Harvey said calmly. ‘Take your dressing gown and nightdress off and then come here by the bed and start some running on the spot.’
Sally gulped — and just stood there.
‘Jump to it, Sally! I want to see some sense of discipline. Or do you want another taste of the cane on your bottom first thing in the morning?’
Numbly she took off her things and put them on a chair. Then standing nude in front of him commenced an embarrassed, not very energetic, stationary running motion. She was acutely conscious of her bare medium-sized breasts bouncing firmly up and down with each step.
Knees up and faster!’ barked Mr Harvey. ‘Much faster! I want to see those titties really jumping!’
Red-faced, Sally increased her tempo. She started to sweat — from her efforts and from pure embarrassment. It was really awful.
‘Keep it up! Keep it up!’ he said. ‘That’s better: and no flagging.’
He made her keep going until she thought she was going to drop. Then after a one-minute breather there was toe touching (‘Keep those knees straight!’); then deep knee bends; then bending side to side. Finally:
‘Right! Now lie on the floor, on your back with feet towards me. Support your bottom on your hands and let me see some energetic cycling of your legs.’
It was just diabolical but with the threat of that cane again she could not refuse. Hot-faced, Sally lay on the carpet and cycled… While Mr Harvey just gazed… at what was inevitably on display.
That at least, when he finally told her she could stop, was the last of the exercises.
‘Feel better now?’ asked Mr Harvey.
‘Uh… y… yes,’ said Sally, untruthfully. She was glowing pink all over, except that her face was more red than pink.
Mr Harvey then said go and have a shower and get dressed quickly, and both she and Angela to be downstairs in 15 minutes. Grabbing her things Sally shot out of the door.
As Sally got dressed she gathered that Angela had earlier got the same treatment. But though Angela agreed with her that it was awful she didn’t seem quite so shocked by it. They just had to grin and bear it, Angela said. Then laughing, ‘Or do I mean B-A-R-E it!’
Downstairs they had breakfast of eggs and bacon and coffee. They would be out walking all day and Mr Harvey had packed some lunch. He was wearing his walking shorts and boots. The girls had on their sporty denim shorts again, plus sleeveless T-shirts.
After breakfast Mr Harvey brought out two lightweight backpacks and told the girls to put the lunch plus their anoraks etc. in them. Then he said he’d have a quick inspection before they set out. ‘Stand to attention, please!’
He looked them up and down, then moved round behind — and briefly handled first one and then the other denim-clad bottom. Back in front he had another critical look — then reached out and squeezed one of Sally’s breasts through her pale blue T-shirt.
As she gasped he asked, ‘Have you got a bra on?’
‘Y… Yes.’
‘Well, take it off. It’ll be hot walking, especially with a pack. And also a girl your age, her body should be firm enough without needing that support.’
Sally hesitated, and he repeated, ‘Come on: take it off. And you as well, Angela, if you’ve got one on.’
And with the unspoken threat of that cane there was nothing for it but to comply. Sally’s blue T-shirt came off, and so did Angela’s yellow one. They took their bras off, then quickly replaced the T-shirts. All under the very direct gaze of Mr Harvey.
‘That’s better!’ he said. His hand reached out and pinched first one and then the other of Angela’s nipples through the thin material. ‘Much better!’
Outside, though it was still early — half past eight — it was already quite warm. They set off, all three with the lightweight packs, along a track which soon started climbing quite steeply. Mr Harvey walked behind them, telling them which way to go, as he wanted them to set the pace. This naturally meant he also had a constant enticing view of two pairs of brief denim shorts tautly stretched over two firm youthful bottoms. Two pairs of rounded buttocks rhythmically flexing and rolling in their skin-tight coverings.
They walked for over an hour by which time the girls felt whacked out and it was like music to their ears when Mr Harvey announced they could talk a break. He led them off the track into a grassy area surrounded by rocks. They gratefully took off their packs and were about to sit down. Then Mr Harvey said:
‘Both of you first take off your shorts and knickers.’
His words stopped them both in their tracks. He went on, ‘Those two bottoms are going to get a little switching. Rather too much moaning and groaning en route: and also I think you could have gone quite a bit faster.’
He repeated, ‘Come on: off with the shorts and knickers.’ He went to a nearby hazel bush and came back with a nasty-looking switch in his hand.
Sally and Angela started unhappily removing their shorts. Angela complained, ‘We were going as fast as we could. It was all uphill.’
‘Ah,’ said Mr Harvey, ‘But if you’re really motivated you can always produce a little bit more. This hazel switch is going to provide your motivation for the next stretch.’
The shorts and then the knickers came reluctantly off. Mr Harvey dropped his hazel stick to the ground and said they could have a rest first if they liked. He took two towels out of his pack and spread them on the ground and told the girls to sit down.
Apart from ankle socks and shoes they now had nothing on except the sleeveless T-shirts. They sat gingerly, self-consciously down, carefully keeping knees together. Mr Harvey sat down in front of them and seemed to be enjoying their embarrassment.
Smiling, he asked, ‘Not still shy, are we, girls?’
Sally said curtly, ‘Yes.’
Mr Harvey smiled again. ‘Well, we can try and do something about that. For the next part of the trek, up until lunch, you can both walk as you are, without shorts or knickers.’
No!’ gasped Sally.
Mr Harvey said calmly, ‘You don’t say No to me, Miss. That will be two extra cuts with my little switch across your bottom. Now both of you lie back and get some sun for five minutes.’
Sally and Angela lay back on their towels — after Mr Harvey had made them pull their T-shirts up above their bare breasts so that they could get the ‘healthy rays of the sun’. Mr Harvey himself had taken off his shirt, exposing his already bronzed torso. But of course he still had his shorts on.
The two girls lay in the hot sun pleasantly relaxed after the hard walking. Except that you couldn’t be mentally relaxed lying there effectively nude and conscious that Mr Harvey’s keen gaze was on you. And also with the thought of what was to come, with that stick.
It came after about 10 minutes. Mr Harvey got up and picked up his hazel switch.
‘Right: break’s over. Now, Sally first I think. And what position shall we have? I think perhaps standing and bending over to touch your toes. That gets a girl’s bottom in a nice prominent position. Stand up then: and you can keep your shirt up where it is.’
Sally got miserably to her feet and with her T-shirt still yanked up above her breasts, assumed a toe-touching position. It was Angela’s turn to watch first this time and she bit her lip as the awful whippy switch sizzled down onto Sally’s bare bottom.
Aaaooowww!’ An anguished yelp from Sally and her whole body gave a violent jerk, as the switch landed. A succession of such yelps and spasmic jerkings as Mr Harvey proceeded to decorate her buttocks with eight angry red stripes. Towards the end Sally was crying as well as yelping and she was crying when finally he told her she could stand up.
The whole performance, in front of Angela’s eyes, had been truly awful. And she was not now feeling quite the same as the previous night when she had said the thought of it was arousing. Now the thought was only frightening.
And the pain was truly awful when she in turn had to stand touching her toes. She got six and she was crying too before it was over.
Mr Harvey made the two tearful girls stand to attention in front of him. Both were still virtually nude of course: in just their walking socks and shoes and their T-shirts dragged up above their breasts.
‘I suppose you both think I’m being very cruel? Well, it may seem that way but it’s all part of the training. Discipline and self-discipline.’
He reached out his hands and took hold of Angela’s full firm breasts. He briefly fondled them and then pulled her T-shirt back down to her waist. Then he moved in front of Sally and did the same to her.
‘Now we’ve got a bit more walking to do before lunch. As I said, I’m going to have you do this part with your shorts and knickers off. Another little disciplinary exercise. But you needn’t worry: it’s pretty deserted so there shouldn’t be anyone around to see you — except perhaps the odd sheep.’
He ran his hand over Sally’s bare bottom. ‘So come on then. Put your shorts and knickers in your packs and we’ll set off.’
‘Are you sure there’s no one about, Mr Harvey?’ asked Angela, now with her bottom not stinging quite so much.
‘It’s normally very deserted round here,’ he said. ‘Although if we do come across a troop of Boy Scouts, it’ll just be their lucky day, won’t it!’
He slapped Angela’s bare bottom. She bit her lip. This S-R and D was not at all like they had imagined. She wondered if the other girls were getting this same treatment.
Mr Harvey put the switch in the top of his pack, saying that he might need it later, and they set off up the track again. It was now quite narrow and they had to go in single file. He made the two girls alternate in taking the lead while he himself brought up the rear — where his view now was of course considerably more enticing than before.
Sally when she had to walk second felt absolutely awful knowing her bare bottom was jouncing about directly in front of Mr Harvey. And on some of the rough bits where you had to clamber up… well, it didn’t bear thinking about. But on the other hand when it was your turn to lead you were desperate to keep going fast because of the thought of that switch afterwards.
All in all it was a pretty traumatic trek. Finally at about noon they reached a small lake in a rocky defile. Mr Harvey said this was their destination. They walked round to a flat beachy area and he called a halt. Sally and Angela took off their packs and looked apprehensively at Mr Harvey and that switch sticking out of his pack.
He smiled at them — and squeezed each bare bottom in turn. ‘Don’t look so anxious! Your bottoms are safe for the moment, because you did a bit better on that stretch. Of course, later on…’
He said they were to have a swim first in the lake. They didn’t have any swimsuits with them but Mr Harvey said that didn’t matter as they were to swim in the nude. Well, they were half nude already of course — and also sweating a bit. Sally and Angela took off shoes and socks… and T-tops.
Mr Harvey was going in too. Nude! wondered Sally, feeling a dart of scary excitement. But he had swimming trunks with him. As he took his shorts off, Sally looked modestly away. But Angela, she saw, did not…
In spite of the hot day the water felt absolutely freezing. The girls got in as far as their ankles… and stood there shivering. Whereupon Mr Harvey just grabbed them, Sally and then Angela, and simply threw them in the deeper water. Both girls yelled out with the shock, but once you were properly in it wasn’t so bad. Refreshing certainly.
Afterwards they rubbed themselves dry with the towels but Mr Harvey said they were not to put their clothes on. They were to get some more healthy sun. He had some sun oil which he rubbed all over each girl’s nude body in turn.
They had their lunch, sitting on their towels. And then Mr Harvey said they were to lie and sunbathe for a little while before the afternoon’s activities. First of all, though, he was going to switch them for their silly behaviour when they went in the lake: they should have gone straight in and not made such a fuss.
Each in turn had to kneel on her towel with her head and hands down and her bottom raised. And each raised bottom was given four sharp cuts with that whippy hazel switch. Four cuts of the sort that immediately cause 17-year-old female eyes to brim full with moisture.
When each girl had had her four strokes and her eyes were blinking away the tears, she lay down on her towel. Fifteen minutes on their backs, said Mr Harvey, and then 15 on their fronts. Neither girl had had much sun previously and he said those pale creamy skins could easily burn. The girls’ bottoms and thighs, of course, had already been exposed to the sun when they were walking without their shorts and knickers in the morning.
As they lay there, nude and still, Mr Harvey told them about the afternoon’s activities. There was to be an exercise in initiative and self-reliance.
He had worked out a three-mile circular course from where they were, and each girl was to go round it by herself, following the map. At three points on the route there were cairns where he had placed numbered clothes pegs and they were to bring back one from each cairn as evidence that they had been all round. They would be assessed for their time round the course. And naturally would not score very highly if they got lost!
When they had had their 30 minutes in the sun he showed them the route on the map. Angela was to go first And, yes, she could put her clothes on.
Angela set off with the map, at a pretty good pace. And that left Mr Harvey alone with the still nude and now rather apprehensive-looking Sally. He smiled at her. ‘Just you and me now, eh young Sally. How d’you fancy that?’
Sally didn’t fancy it at all. She felt herself go all hot and cold. He said he didn’t want her to put her clothes on as he liked her nude, but she had better move out of the sun. They moved over with the towels into the shade of some rocks. Then Mr Harvey said he wanted to test how strong she was and they were going to wrestle.
It was simply awful. Mr Harvey was about a hundred times as strong as Sally and he could do just what he wanted with her — and he did. Obviously the wrestling was merely an excuse to get his hands on her body and he simply got her in a succession of holds, both standing up and lying on the towels, where he had his hands in all the most intimate places: on her breasts; on her bottom; between her legs.
And every few minutes he would get her in some sort of bottom-up position and then, gripping her firmly with his left arm, he would give that firm full bottom a sharp spanking.
It was just simply awful and what made it worse was that almost from the beginning Mr Harvey had an obvious full erection in his brief white bathing shorts. He made no attempt to disguise this fact, letting it rub up against various parts of Sally’s body as he wrestled her. It was simply awful all right, overwhelming in fact, and when Mr Harvey finally stopped for a rest Sally was in tears.
He asked why she was crying and she shook her head miserably that she didn’t know. Mr Harvey shook his own head in turn. ‘Not showing much self-control or discipline, are we, Sally?’
And he simply made her kneel again on the towel with her bottom raised — and gave her three more with the switch.
Then he said she was looking a bit pink from the sun and he rubbed some more oil all over her and said she could put her clothes on. Sally was then made to do some running: repetitions of running to a certain rock and walking back.
‘But a brisk walk back. No dawdling or we have the remedy, don’t we, Sally?’ He slapped her bottom.
Sally ran, and walked, as hard as she could in an attempt to avoid any more of that stick. It was exhausting but in a way it was a relief. Because when he was wrestling with her she had been really afraid that he would decide to do something else as well.
Angela got back about an hour after she set out. She at least hadn’t got lost and had collected the required pegs. Mr Harvey said her time wasn’t bad. Sally then set off with the map, on her turn. As she did so Mr Harvey was telling Angela to take her clothes off.
Sally found her way round the course and collected the pegs. She kept going as fast as she could but there was one place where she wasn’t sure and she lost a little time there. When she got back Angela was doing the running to the rock and back. Mr Harvey said Sally’s time had been five minutes slower than Angela’s. So he sat on a rock and took Sally over his lap. And pulled down her shorts and knickers and then spanked her bare bottom. Well, it wasn’t as painful as that stick.
That was the end of the day’s expedition, apart from the trek back to the farmhouse. Mr Harvey said they hadn’t done too badly. He gave them a glass of wine each when they got back. And then they had to prepare the vegetables and cook the evening meal.
After that and the washing up they could rest and watch TV for an hour. Then there was an evening session of exercises in the sitting room: take their clothes off and more running on the spot, bending, toe touching, cycling on your back, etc. Then some cocoa and early to bed, at 10 o’clock.
Christ, isn’t it awful!’ said Angela when they had crawled into that big double bed.
But she didn’t sound really depressed or despondent: rather, she sounded quite spritely. She clutched Sally to her — and gave her another kiss like she had the night before. A full wet mouth-to-mouth kiss with her tongue probing in.
The kiss again sent shivers through Sally, but they were pleasant shivers rather than the reverse. With her heart pounding she put her arm round Angela.
Angela’s mouth, at Sally’s ear, said, ‘Oh God! That bloody Mr Harvey and his stick. It makes me feel all… well, funny.’
There were of course seven days of this: six more days all pretty much repeats of that first one. Six more days in which Mr Harvey kept the girls very much on their toes; six days of his cane and a succession of hazel switches, not to mention the hard palm of his hand, all being kept decidedly busy. But all things, good and bad, finally come to an end.
A week later, the afternoon of another very hot day — it had been hot all week — and Sally and Angela were to be seen walking back along that track on which we first saw them. They did not get lost this time and were smartly in time for Miss Mortimer to pick them up.
Miss Mortimer greeted them in her typically gushing manner. ‘Oh girls: have you had a good time? And my, you’re both so brown!’
They were both so brown all over but Miss Mortimer was not to know that. They stowed their rucksacks in the boot and climbed in the back seat. Miss Mortimer gushed on:
‘You must tell me all about it. But first I must let you into a secret You see this is the very first time we have had Mr Harvey as one of our S-R and D instructors. The very first time!’
There was a stunned silence from the back seat.
‘Yes. He was recommended to us of course and so we thought we would give him a try. But we thought we would not tell you two girls so that you could make an objective assessment. What we were concerned about, of course, was that he would be sufficiently strict. I mean some men do find it so difficult to be strict with teenage girls. And so it was impressed on him that he must be firm.’
Sally started to speak but got Angela’s elbow sharply in her ribs.
‘Oh, he was quite strict, Miss Mortimer,’ interjected Angela.
‘H… How strict was… was he supposed to be?’ asked Sally.
‘Oh well, I suppose early to bed and early to rise. Lots of healthy exercise — and of course household chores. All that kind of thing.’
‘No… physical punishments?’ inquired Angela with a little laugh.
‘Oh of course not. Nothing like that!’ agreed Miss Mortimer.
Angela gave Sally another firm dig in the ribs and then pronounced, ‘Well, I suppose he got it about right, Miss Mortimer.’
Sally and Angela did not really have a chance to talk privately until that evening. Miss Mortimer had stopped over in Salisbury so that the girls could have a cultural visit to the Cathedral. Sally and Angela had a double room with twin beds but of course, after the last week they both, after locking the door, got in the same bed. During their time with Mr Harvey their relationship had developed considerably. For a few minutes they hungrily kissed and stroked each other’s bodies.
Then Angela said, ‘Mmm: no more caning then. I’m going to miss it.’
It triggered off what Sally had been wanting to say ever since Miss Mortimer had made that shock statement.
‘Aren’t you going to tell her? He obviously shouldn’t have been doing any of that awful stuff.’
‘Oh no. Let the next girls tell if they want to. Anyway he could just deny it: say you made it up. And also he is giving us those good assessments.’
That was true. In spite of all the caning and switching which Mr Harvey had found necessary — or perhaps maybe because the girls had agreed to it without real argument — he had said he was giving them both 95 per cent ratings.
At this point Angela decided to tell Sally something else.
‘This morning when I was in his room for exercises, I… I asked if I could come again … For a weekend or something. He… he said Yes.’
Sally could hardly believe her ears. She had sensed as the week went on that Angela was possibly not finding the canings and switchings 100 per cent unpleasant. Mr Harvey could bring the tears to Angela’s eyes but afterwards she seemed to recover pretty quickly. And in bed of course Angela had frequently referred to it as being so arousing.
To a certain extent Sally had found it arousing as well and this had undoubtedly contributed to their now passionate relationship. But… freely going back for more?
Then another thought crossed Sally’s mind. ‘He didn’t…? You didn’t let him…? You know…’
‘Do me, you mean?’ giggled Angela.
‘No, of course not!’
What Angela did not tell Sally was that she would not have minded if Mr Harvey had made actual sexual advances. She was a virgin, like Sally, but she did not intend to stay that way. And who better to start with than bronzed virile Mr Harvey — perhaps after a rousing caning or one of those so scarily exciting wrestling bouts.
Angela had in fact alluded to the possibility of sex. Mr Harvey had given her one of his looking-right-through-you looks and said that he could not think of having relations with a girl when she was staying with him on a course. So, thought Angela, if she wasn’t on a course? If she was just visiting for a weekend?
Angela turned her attention to Sally and her lovely soft but firm body. To think that through all their time at St Audan’s they had not realised what delights there were to be had with each other. The stay with Mr Harvey had certainly brought that out. She intended to try and persuade Sally to come with her, to Mr Harvey’s. Once Sally got used to the idea she felt sure she would.
Before the visit to Mr Harvey, though, Angela had something else in mind. Something quite mind-boggling. After returning to St Audan’s for a few days they were to have a holiday and Sally was coming home with Angela. What Angela then planned… well, the thought of it really sent her head spinning… But she knew where to get some hazel switches just like the ones Mr Harvey used. And out in the woods or maybe in the house when Angela’s mother was out…
Briefly she, Angela, was going to be Mr Harvey wielding the switch over her friend’s lovely bare bottom. And naturally as well Sally would also be Mr Harvey… dealing with her, Angela.
Sally didn’t know this yet, of course. Sally would undoubtedly be really shocked and a bit scared when Angela first told her what they were going to do. But then she had been equally shocked when Angela first did what they now routinely did to each other in bed. Sally, she was sure, would really go for it once they’d started.
For the moment Sally was trying to get over the fact that Angela was planning a voluntary return to Mr Harvey’s farmhouse: and an undoubted second dose of S-R and D.

Friday, 30 August 2019

Poll: Vote for your favourite magazine cover

Following a debate on the comments section of Monitors Duty, I have put together a shortlist of 20 great magazine covers from various spanking publications over the years and opened a poll where you can vote for one or more of them. It was surprisingly tough to get it down to 20 and I'm sorry if I missed a favourite of yours.
Please browse the pictures below and then vote here. Please note that the magazine title is below each picture.
I will publish the results in due course, should I get sufficient votes to make it worthwhile.
Happy voting!

Update: votes are now in  see results here.
Blushes 8
Blushes 12
Blushes 25
Blushes Supplement 8
Blushes Supplement 26
Februs 5
Fessee 5
Janus 20
Janus 26
Janus 39
Janus 46
Janus 53
Janus 139
Roue 6
Roue 18
Uniform Girls 13
Uniform Girls 20
Uniform Girls 22
Uniform Girls 2.17
Whispers 1
A reminder you can vote in the poll here.