EMMA AT SCHOOL 13  

Night Life

As Emma walked over to Richard, she realised that throughout her many punishments at a variety of hands in her short time at Katherine Parr, her chastisements from Deborah and Richard stood out.  It wasn't that they were more or less painful than those delivered by anyone else (although they never, unsurprisingly, reached the agony imparted by Mr Lindon's cane), but that she didn't feel "frightened" when being prepared for their beatings.  She tried to put words to the way she felt as she lay across Richard's knees and allowed him to move her gently into what he considered the most satisfactory position.  Deborah and Richard alone, she decided, knew her intimately enough to be able to marry loving concern to corrective severity.  Emma knew, when under the hand of either of them, that there was a contract between punisher and punished - the surrender of body and soul in return for the expurgation of guilt - and she waited now with a sure serenity for her most recent sin to be cleansed by Richard's attention.  Richard used his hand at first, wiping the cause of the spanking from Emma's consciousness at once and then continuing to smack her bare bottom vigorously until her cries of pain had melded into a single wail of anguish and contrition.  Only then, after thirty blows or so, did he beckon Tommy to fetch the two foot ruler - a specially purchased strip of solid maple - from his desk.

There was little pause as Richard moved from one to the other and Tommy watched on, dumbstruck, as his friend proceeded to beat the naked girl with the rule.  Her buttocks were laced with red, blistering weals - and yet the girl had herself asked to be punished.  When she had said, "very hard," had she meant this hard?  As Emma writhed in her suffering, her legs splayed open every now and then to afford him another view of the warm and wet crevices that his fingers had only minutes before been exploring.  These scenes were, he concluded as Richard delivered a final stripey salvo, of a world so far removed from the everyday as to be inexplicable to someone - like himself - not of that world.

Richard's generous attention served only temporarily to stop Emma's incestuous fantasising and, as the week wore on, he was asked by Emma herself to attend to her discipline on a number of occasions.  He never asked her why she felt she needed to be flogged, but simply took her in hand with unvarying firmness.

This situation can only be partly blamed on Kaitlin's letter, although Emma re-read it often and always with erotic effect.  Without reproducing the entire missive here, it may help the reader to understand why Emma was so influenced by it if I explain that, during that very first reading, Emma had yet to reach the half-way point when she found herself so agitated that she felt it necessary to seek absolution for her thoughts.  The remainder of the letter described, in some detail, no less than five separate, subsequent occasions on which Emma's sister had been required to offer up her naked body to her father's jurisdiction.  On reading them, Emma found herself conjuring up the scenes so vividly that at least once she felt the shivering heat of orgasm roll over her without her fingers approaching within six inches of her gluttonous clitoris.  On other occasions, when she was sure of privacy, Emma would slip her knickers from her before reclining on the couch with Kaitlin's letter to read this or that favourite passage with her fingers embedded and slowly moving inside her pussy, or skimming lightly and teasingly over her slit. 

Under this repeated study, the letter itself stimulated fantasies far greater in number than the events described.  Emma would not only imagine herself present as, to take a single example, Mr Denby slashed at his daughter's ready buttocks with his razor strop, but would imagine on another occasion that it was her bent down over the piano stool with her bare bottom raised and her thighs immodesty spread, and her receiving the leather's cruel  embrace.  On another reading, Emma's father would be absent and she herself would turn to her sister and demand to know sternly why Kaitlin had engaged in some act of youthful naughtiness; and then, unsatisfied with the excuse, no matter how credibly related, she would shake her head and impassively lower her sister's knickers to her knees before taking up the strop herself.

On yet another perusal, Emma would let the pages spill from her hand as her mind diverged from the given narrative at even greater rate and, as she lifted her hips to meet the insistent pressure of her hand, her father's face would appear, ghost-like, above her sprawling body.  Her breath deepening, she would close her eyes to see more clearly as his hands pushed her knees to either side and as he silently and gently caressed and touched and kissed and stroked and tasted her.  And after smothering her scream with a pillow as the phantom lured from her a climax in the world of substance, on these occasions Emma would lock the letter carefully away and creep shame-faced into Richard's study to make payment for the weakness of her mind.

You will recall the author's assertion, however, that this letter only partially explains Emma's behavior.  To understand fully her increasing fixation on this partly real, partly fanciful home life, you should remember that, on the day that Kaitlin's letter arrived, there were only five days left until half-term.  You should understand that at half-term, Emma would be collected from school and driven home to be reunited with her family for the first time since being left in Mr Lindon's care.  Thus, the various fantasies which Emma was now entertaining were no longer irrelevant to her in her new life at school, but pertinent indeed to the fact that Emma was about to return to a home where things - to be specific, where discipline - was no longer as it once was.  And while some of the images thus conjured were, if we are to seek to adopt Emma's personal sense of morality, quite improper, her general fascination with punishment in a home where punishment had taken such a key role is not a discovery to surprise us.

What was to befall Emma on her reunion with her family will be related in all necessary detail; but first, one final event at Katherine Parr which occurred before the short holiday will be unfolded.  No claim is made that exploration of this happening will bring the reader to a greater understanding of the characters or plot of our story, yet it is a part of the unravelling of Emma's new life, and thus deserves a mention.  When Emma first arrived at Katherine Parr, she and Deborah shared not only a study but also a bedroom.  You might recall that this bedroom was known as the "guest room", and you might have deduced, correctly, that this arrangement was a temporary one.  Indeed, once Emma had, on her second attempt, passed her House Test, both she and Deborah had been accommodated in one of the house dormitories.  Despite many calls to "modernise" this aspect of school life, the girls at this particular school still slept in dormitories containing as many as eighteen beds.  The room to which Emma and Deborah were assigned, they shared with ten others, including the dorm captain, Angie, whose duty it was to ensure they behaved themselves at night.

To Emma and Deborah, who had become used to making love slowly and then falling asleep in each other's arms, this was something of a wrench.  It was not, however, an impossible situation.  In boys' boarding schools, despite stories which tell of such things in years gone by, it would not be possible for two boys to sleep in the same bed today.  Girls however, are allowed a closeness ridiculed amongst boys and, without more than an occasional whispered suggestion, Emma was surprised to find that several of the girls in their dorm would sometimes sleep together.  Although she watched and listened carefully, she never detected any signs or sounds which suggested that any of these pairs were actually having sex, but Angie seemed unworried and Emma and Deborah soon decided that it would be safe to try a little bed-hopping.

They had to learn one or two things of course: to wait until everyone else was asleep before hands started to slip between open thighs, to lie perfectly still even when two lover's fingers started to press up inside a moist  vagina, to bite teeth together and hold in an orgasm's accompanying cry.  But practise makes perfect; you would be hard pressed to find a quieter, stiller fuck.

There were two days only remaining before half-term when, at about ten-thirty, Mr Lindon made one of his rare tours of the dorms - usually it was a prefect who checked up that lights were out and young voices were hushed.  The younger girls were asleep and didn't see him step quietly into the room, or beckon Angie to join him outside in the corridor.  The headteacher didn't speak as he led the way down to the washroom, only turning to Angie once the door was firmly shut.

"I have to admit to being a little shocked to see girls sleeping together in your dormitory," he explained.  "I wonder... do you think that their parents would approve?"

Angie bit her lip for a few seconds.

"Er... I guess not," she replied.

"No."  Mr Lindon looked stern.  "Neither do I.  You will do what is necessary to stop the practice.  Do you understand?" "Yes, sir," the girl replied.

"Good.  And I think I might leave you a reminder, just to keep the matter at the front of your mind.  Face the window and touch your toes please." Mr Lindon always carried his cane when he toured the house at night, ready to deal with smokers or other miscreants.  Angie was naked beneath her nightdress and so lifting the hem was sufficient to expose the warm, dark skin of her bottom.  Reminders were Mr Lindon's most common punishments of the most senior girls.  They consisted of a single stroke across the bare buttocks and, although they were therefore fairly minor beatings, they were awarded for even the most minor oversights in the course of a prefect or dorm captain's duties.  A sixth former who actually broke a school rule herself could expect a caning of much greater severity than the younger girls.

So it was that Angie returned to the dormitory with a solitary burning weal across her rump, and a very determined countenance.  Briskly she strode over to each bed containing more than a single girl and pulled the duvet off in a single movement.  There were three other pairs of girls sleeping together that night, but  all were decently clothed.  Emma and Deborah, by contrast, were both partially naked and were unable to move quickly enough to avoid the damning tableau: Emma with her pyjama bottoms around her ankles was lying on her back with her legs spread while Deborah's hand, her own nightie hoisted up round her waist, lay sleepily between her lover's thighs.

"I'll see you two at eight fifteen in here tomorrow morning," she hissed as each girl tried to cover herself.  Then she raised her voice to address them all.  "Every girl who is sharing a bed, get up and go to stand at the end of your own bed."

Eight girls, rubbing the sleep from their eyes, crawled out of bed and crept back to their usual places to stand before their furious dorm captain. 

"Mr Lindon has been in here and asked me to instruct you that your are to sleep in your own beds from now on.  I am giving you that instruction now..."  Here Angie paused as she walked back to her own bedside to collect one of her slippers.  "... and I intend to reinforce that instruction.  Those of you wearing nightdresses will remove them, those of you wearing pyjamas may simply take off their pyjama bottoms." Emma had seen Angie use the slipper on two or three girls in the dorm, but always over by her own bed rather in this public way.  Wondering whether Angie had herself been punished, Emma pulled her cotton trousers back down again and laid them on the bed behind her.

Of course, in a school such as this, nudity - that is, public nudity - was hardly unusual.  Shared, open-plan changing rooms have always been a part of boarding school life (although many have succumbed over the years to demands for increased privacy) and all eight girls had been made to strip in front of the peers on at least one occasion to accept some punishment or other. 

Emma recalled an incident from a few weeks previously when the coach of the house netball team in which Emma played, who was a sixth-form girl, had been so outraged at the team's lethargic performance in the opening round of the inter-house competition that she had determined to bring about a change in attitude.  On returning to Austin House, she had herded the girls into the changing rooms and made them all strip.  She forced each girl to take a cold shower and then lined them up along one of the wide benches that ran the length of the changing area.  Each girl was made to kneel on the bench and lean forwards with her bottom in the air (and all this time other girls were obviously coming in and out - some stopping to watch, naturally) and then Sandra, the coach, had delivered a long lecture on team spirit and effort, all the time working her way along the row of tendered, tender bottoms and spanking randomly and rigorously with a gym shoe.  Emma smiled as she remembered their massive 48-12 victory over their second round opponents.

"I'm going to give each of you six strokes with the slipper," Angie told them.  "Turn to face your beds and bend down to grasp your bed end.  Any girl who speaks or moves will have her punishment doubled up.  Prepare yourselves, please."

With that, Angie began.  As six strokes is the maximum a dorm prefect is permitted to administer, Emma knew that she did not need to prepared herself for a major dose of pain, but worried instead about what she and Deborah would do now about the nocturnal love-making.  "Ouchh!"  Emma had heard the whack of the slipper across two or three bottoms, but had failed to notice Angie stepping up behind her and the thud of the leather sole against her unprotected rear came as an unpleasant surprise.  There was no second blow however, and Emma realised, as the sound of girls being punished echoed around the bare walls of the dormitory, that this did not indicate a short spanking but an elongated one, and Emma waited until the interval of seven hard whacks told her that it was her turn again.

Emma managed not to cry out after the second stroke and returned to her thoughts about Deborah.  If all that they risked by continuing to sleep together was a slippering from Angie, that might be a price worth paying.  However, Emma was confident that future infractions of the new rule would result in Mr Lindon's involvement and an almost certain caning.  "Yeoow!"  The third blow caught her unawares again - it didn't seem more than seconds since the last one.  She decided to concentrate on her current predicament as the blows that landed when she wasn't expecting them felt harder.  It took another three of four minutes for Angie to complete all the girls' beatings , Emma managing not to yelp to embarrassingly at the final three whacks and then crawling under the covers to nurse her throbbing bottom.

Spankings tended, puzzlingly, to bring sleep more quickly to Emma and almost her next sensation was the brief confusion as the sounds and shadows of the dream world sharpened into the song of birds outside the window and the streaming sunlight falling onto her bed.  Nothing was said by any of the girls about the events of the previous night as they rose and dressed, and even Emma and Deborah conducted their conversation over breakfast in other areas.  They both remembered Angie's instruction to be back in the dormitory at a quarter past eight, however, and were soon treading gingerly up the stairs. 

Sixth formers were permitted to lie in each morning, unlike the younger girls who were inspected at half past seven.  So when Emma and Deborah reached the dorm, Angie was still in bed, though not asleep.  She lifted herself up onto one elbow and spoke quietly.

"Now, I can't decided what course of action to take with you two," she explained.  "I suppose I ought to explain to Mr Lindon that I found you in flagrante delicto.  You do realise, I suppose, that sexual activity is not allowed at school?"

The two girls nodded unhappily.

"And that the result of such a report would be a severe caning?"

Again the girls nodded their agreement.  This had been what each of them had been imagining at breakfast as they discussed the worsening situation in the former Yugoslavia.

"I wonder.  Would you be prepared, instead of such a report, to carry out my instructions for a short while?"

"What instructions?" Deborah asked.  Angie merely shrugged in reply.

"Do you mean you're going to spank us again?" Emma asked.

"You just need to answer yes or no," Angie smiled.  "Yes," the answer came from both girls together and, as both expected, Angie told them to remove their clothes.  Once naked, however, the script departed from what either girl had privately predicted as Angie explained that she wished to watch them making love.

Deborah paused for only seconds before beginning to stroke Emma's back and Emma responded to her friend's lead by turning to face her and then running one hand down towards Deborah's pussy.  As Deborah was having her period, Emma simply caressed her lover's clitoris as they did when in bed, not wanting to leave suspicious marks on the sheets.  They, like many of the girls at Katherine Parr, used towels, rather than tampons, following Ms Hubert's talk on toxic shock syndrome, but had yet to discover any non-messy form of penetrative sex that was possible except when sharing a bath or a shower.

As the girls became more engrossed in each other's probing and stroking, they managed to forget Angie's presence until Deborah pushed Emma forwards over the dorm captain's bed (as if she were about to spank her) and then ducked between her legs to suck on her sweet pussy.  This left Emma face to face with a wide-eyed Angie who watched the other girl's face as it contorted with the pleasure being delivered below.  Impulsively, Emma reached out and untied the tiny bows at the shoulders of Angie's nightie and pulled away the flimsy material to bare the older girl's breasts.  "What are you doing?" Angie squealed as Emma's mouth closed over her nipple.  "Get off me!"

Yet, despite her protestations, Angie made no move to push Emma away as the younger girl used her fingers and tongue to explore Angie's dark brown breasts.

"You're beautiful," Emma whispered, her vagina full of Deborah's fingers as she formed the words and simultaneously pulled at more ties until she was able to sweep the nightdress away altogether and look upon Angie's full nakedness.

"Stop it!" Angie was whimpering.  "I'll have you birched!"

"What?"  Emma said, kissing Angie's shivering stomach and working her way down towards the dark V shape of tightly curled hair.  "You won't spank me yourself?"

"Yes," Angie's heavy breathing almost obscured her words as, still meeting no more than a verbal resistance, Emma's mouth moved closer to Angie's secret place.  "Yes... I will spank you..."

"How?"  Emma smiled as the supine girl parted her thighs and began to lick at the inside of her muscled thighs, teasing with one finger which ran up and down along the outer edge of her cunt lips.

"Your... bare bottom... I'll spank you with... oh!  OH!"  She gave up her attempt at words finally as Emma's mouth reached her pussy, basking in this new sensation which she had only dreamed about until now.  Emma, her bottom now high in the air as her girlfriend fucked her hard with her fingers, licked lovingly at the pink and wet cleft which split Angie's otherwise oak-coloured flesh.

The three remained in that same position for between twenty long minutes with only the tiniest movements as Angie and Emma delighted in having their pussies attended to and Deborah used her own hand to pleasure herself as she licked at her lover.  The girls' climaxes lingered and warmed their thighs deliciously until, finally, Emma and Deborah fell, damp from sweat, onto Angie's bed, the three of them kissing and giggling.  "Now, Emma," Angie murmured with a grin, "about that spanking...."  

Back to Jon's Favourites