by Susan Thomas
"Sir, x is divided by two so in order to find out what x is we must multiply it by two and since it is an equation we must multiply five by two as well so x is ten."
"Thank you, Sarah, now Ashley should I give you ten or twenty with my slipper for being so silly?"
Ashley simply looked bewildered and replied, "I'm not sure, Sir."
"Not sure!" The master was now suddenly quite jovial. "Well in that case I'll just apply the slipper until you are sure, shall I?"
Every girl in the class tensed, their teacher was quite clearly a psychopath who should be handled much like an unexploded bomb, but had Ashley the wit to do that?
"But, Sir, it's not fair."
Sarah winced as did every other girl except Ashley. It is never wise to tell a teacher they have been unfair and certainly not an unpredictable man like this one. However, he responded with a broad smile.
"Ashley, Ashley, you silly girl, you really don't know when to stop digging, do you? Now then, come out here and I will be fair; I shall only use my slipper and not the cane. Now, I can't say fairer than that."
Ashley came out reluctantly.
"Now, Ashley, bend over, young lady."
Ashley bent over as had Jessica and Samantha before her, but this time there was a difference, for the teacher abruptly stepped forward and raised her skirt, exposing the regulation school knickers stretched tightly across her bottom. There was a general gasp from the girls as well as the victim. Another gasp followed as he put his hands on the waistband of her knickers, and everyone thought he was about to pull them down, which surely was the prerogative of the headmaster alone. However, he merely pulled them up so that the cheeks of her bottom were much more exposed. He then stepped back, and swiftly brought his slipper down on her virtually bare bottom with a mighty whack.
Ashley gasped loudly as the slipper left a mighty mark on her exposed cheeks. This was swiftly followed by another mighty gasp as a second blow with the slipper landed.
Smack, smack, smack... each blow of the slipper made Ashley gasp and pant, and turned the rippling cheeks of her bottom ever redder. The other girls watched in horrified fascination. Sorry for Ashley, they nevertheless felt compelled to watch her punishment, but would it be the ten or twenty?
It was neither. When he had given Ashley six hard whacks on her nearly bare bottom, he stopped, asked her to stand, and then asked in a sarcastic voice if he had been fair. The God of Common Sense visited her.
"Yes, sir, very fair."
Everyone sighed in relief, and with a very red face, tears in her eyes and a very red bottom under her skirt, Ashley sat carefully down.
The whole morning passed in much the same way: girl after girl bent over for whacks with the slipper or strokes of the cane; some got a reprimand and two a detention, but our group were free of further punishment, although Jessica got in a dither and very nearly got another whacking but somehow managed to escape.
They were allowed a short lunch-break which was spent in almost total silence, sitting (straight-backed of course) and eating unmemorable food in nervous anxiety in case they offended against another rule. Then it was on to 'Cultural Studies'.
The girls sat in a dutiful semi-circle, each seated neatly and primly, their backs straight as good girls should sit, to watch the video clip of wedding customs in some African tribe. 'Cultural enhancement' was the purpose, but given not one girl or woman in the clip had her breasts covered, it was a blessing there were no boys present. So far, only two of the 'gang of five' were reprimand-free and without sore bottoms - they were Sarah and Emily. Sarah sat the neatest of all the girls, she wasn't letting up her concentration though, and she was determined that she would not be punished for anything.
Abruptly, the girl in front of her first sagged then fell straight off her chair without a sound. Her body hit the floor, her head following smartly with a nasty crack. Blood began flowing from the girl's head and making a small pool around her. There were screams and calls of alarm from the class, and everyone gathered around. Sarah took command with swift efficiency.
"Stand back, all of you. Miss, can you get everyone out please and raise the alarm with the school office. We'll need an ambulance... no wait, a paramedic. The startled teacher obeyed while Sarah first checked pulse and breathing because the girl on the floor was clearly out cold. She checked for broken bones or back, checked for signs of a fractured skull, but everything was fine so she swiftly put the girl into recovery and, taking her PE top from her bag, improvised a dressing to stem the bleeding. She sat back on her haunches to monitor, the others standing white-faced with alarm in the doorway.
By the time help arrived, the girl was beginning to come round, and she was whisked away with professional care. Soon the teacher was trying hard to calm everyone before their next lesson which was PE. Sarah suddenly panicked.
"Oh no! I have no PE top, I used it to stop the bleeding. I am so in trouble now." She burst into tears.
The teacher was suddenly very sympathetic. "No. you're not Sarah; I shall come to your lesson with you and explain. I am sure the teacher can find you a top to wear. There is no trouble for you at all, I promise."
Was this possible in such a strict school? Sarah was still a little doubtful - rules are rules, aren't they? But all was well and she was given one of the teacher's very own spare tops to use, and the PE lesson began.
They were rehearsing the gate vault with a view to learning the flip; two poles were fixed one above the other between opened wall bars. In the first part the girls had to run, spring and get on to the top bar with their tummy and hold on before bending over, reaching down, seizing the second lower bar and then bringing their legs over for a simple drop down.
Emily froze on top of the second bar. Nobody knew why, it is after all not a very difficult thing to do and they didn't yet have to flip, but freeze she did. Some kids just don't like gym; it is as simple as that sometimes. The teacher stepped forward to help, but Emily resisted. It is hard to say exactly how it happened, but suddenly Emily was over and standing on the other side, but with her shorts and knickers half way down her legs. The class burst into laughter.
The athletic female teacher turned and glared, and they all went quiet. She turned back to issue a withering reprimand to Emily, to find the girl with her clothes still at half-mast, giggling helplessly.
"Stop that silly giggling, girl, and get your shorts back up."
Emily went to obey, but suddenly the giggles hit her again, and she simply collapsed into quite helpless giggles. The teacher was not pleased.
She suddenly stalked off to one side, and picked up a large, man's slipper, walking back to Emily with a determined look on her face.
"Now then, girl, perhaps a good dose of the slipper will wipe that smile off your face."
It did, and Emily immediately went to pull her knickers and shorts back up.
"No, you seem to be quite keen on doing a gate vault without them, so you can take them off."
It was clear that the woman meant it, so Emily reluctantly slipped her shorts and knickers off completely, and on being given the nod, took them to the side of the gymnasium.
When she returned, she was without shorts, knickers or giggles, and then the teacher made it clear that she had not found the incident funny.
"Bend over, girl."
No matter that bare bottom punishment was the headmaster's prerogative; PE teachers are always a law unto themselves. Emily's white bottom was walloped and hard with the slipper, leaving a large, red slipper-shaped mark on her delicate skin. Wallop went the slipper again across both cheeks, and now another red mark appeared. Wallop, wallop, wallop continued the slipper, and Emily began to gasp and cry out as her bare bottom felt every powerful blow, and the hot sting mounted.
Instinctively, each girl in the class put both hands on her own bottom as if to protect it, and all looked increasingly horrified as the tally mounted: six, seven, eight... Emily began to yelp loudly. "Please no more," she cried, which was
against the rules.
"Lost the giggles yet, girl?"
"Yes, Miss, honestly, I am sorry."
"Well, let's make sure shall we."
Wallop, wallop, wallop and finally wallop. Twelve good hard whacks with the slipper on her bare bottom - Emily was in tears, and her bottom an angry red. She was allowed to stand against the wall and sob for a while before re-joining the group, but not allowed to replace her knickers and shorts. The rest of the class was shortly treated to the sight of Emily's red bottom disappearing over the bar in a perfect gate vault. Spontaneously, the girls applauded, but this time the teacher merely grinned. By the end of the lesson they had all mastered the flip, and the teacher was pleased.
Showered and dressed again to a tight time schedule, the girls all walked carefully (Emily more carefully than most) to their next lesson. It was, if anything, even more boring than their first lesson of the day, for who really cares much about the importance of Bismarck in European history? Throughout it, Sarah sat straight-backed, attentive, neatly putting her hand up to answer the teacher's dry questions with equally dry but perfectly correct answers. Two other girls were reprimanded, one girl got the slipper for thinking Bismarck was Austrian, and another got one stroke of the cane for saying he was a junket and not a Junker. That girl was poor Ashley, but Sarah alone of our gang of five, remained unpunished and even without a reprimand. She began to be very nervous - it was now very close to the end of the day, danger time she thought. Then the teacher pounced on her.
"You there, girl, stand up."
Sarah stood with alacrity, making sure she said nothing until asked a question (first rule of an obedient schoolgirl).
"Is this a true statement, girl? Bismarck introduced universal suffrage to the new Germany."
"Sir, no, it isn't a true statement, suffrage was for men only."
He looked almost pleased and bade her sit down. Sarah very softly let out a sigh of relief, and then a bell went. At last it was the end of the day, but no girl moved until their teacher told them to. Then, quietly and carefully, with no idle chattering, they began to pack up their books and make their way out of the classroom and down the endless corridors to leave school.
Soon our gang, Sarah among them, were in the last corridor. At the end of the gleaming corridor were the glass doors to the students' entrance and exit. Just the length of the corridor and she had done it. A whole day and no punishment. Don't blow it now. No running. Walk demurely, no slouching, nice straight back. Eyes straight ahead. No giggling, chatting or looking at anyone in case it set them off.
Half way there, breathe slowly in and out, remain in control, keep steady now. Twenty paces left to go... nineteen... eighteen...
"Sarah!"
Her head snapped round. It was the headmaster standing in an open doorway looking at her. Everyone checked, everyone stared, what could she have done? They walked quickly on not wishing to get sucked in. She felt like bursting into tears. She hadn't done anything, much less an offence warranting the headmaster's intervention.
"Yes, sir?"
He smiled. "I have been hearing very good things about you. Excellent behaviour when poor Melinda collapsed. She will be fine by the way. You are a real credit to us all and a perfect record today too, quite excellent. I have pleasure in giving you this Headmaster's Award."
A headmaster's award! These were as rare as hens' teeth. Unbelievable! She accepted with profuse thanks, and he gestured to the door in avuncular fashion. "Well off you go Sarah, there is the door."
Ten steps... nine... she held her breath... eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one. She opened the door, let out a shuddering breath. and stepped out of the school into the dazzling lights of the studio. The studio audience cheered, whistled and applauded. Around the world, the fifty million viewers of School Daze who, with Sarah, had been holding their collective breath, let out a mighty shout of delight. The other four contestants who, along with Sarah, formed the gang of five, grinned delightedly while cursing their bad fortune inside their heads. The compere of School Daze, all sun tan and teeth, put his arm around her, and whipped the audience up to louder and louder cheers.
Sarah was the first in a very long while to spend a whole day unpunished in the complex virtual reality world of the school in School Daze. Only the punishments were real; it was possible even the collapsing Melinda had simply been a case of very advanced technology. When the audience was silent, the compere flashed his teeth to the camera and began his spiel. He didn't need to think about it, he did it well without any thought. In his head he was enjoying having his arm around this rather succulent young woman, and wondering if he could get her into his bed.
"Well, Sarah, you did it, you got the big one, the £100,000 prize. Very hard to do and a real achievement, plus a Headmaster's Award which the audience will now tell you is worth..."
"£5,000," screamed the audience excitedly.
"Well now, Sarah, what are you going to be doing with your prize?"
The compere, although he gave no sign of it, was sick to death of the contestants who stood there rambling on about new cars and holidays. He loved it when he got someone who said they were getting their granny a new hip and then sending her for a holiday to Australia to see her sister who she hadn't seen for fifty years. It enabled him to milk the 'ooohs' and 'aahs' for all he was worth, and then hand out one of his golden bonus awards also worth £5,000.
Sarah looked delightfully bashful. "Well my fiancé and I want to be married and start a family..."
The compere saw her blush, dear God the girl blushed... wonderful, he pulled his 'oh isn't she sweet' face and milked the moment.
"...with this money we can afford the deposit on a proper family home, get married and start our family."
"Who is this lucky lad? In fact where is he right now?"
Sarah pointed out into the studio audience. "David is out there." She waved and he waved back.
The compere thought he was going to wet himself with sheer delight, and soon a very bashful David was hugging Sarah. Both looked so young and so sweet that all round the world tears were flowing as the fans of School Daze wondered if this was the best ever of all the shows.
The producer was whispering urgent messages into his ear while the compere milked the moment, and then he obeyed his prompt. "Well you know what, I don't think we can do anything but help this lovely young couple out some more. What do you think?"
The studio audience erupted, shouting different things, but it was clear they wanted to give Sarah and David the world.
"Well, I normally only ever give one of my Special Bonus Awards, and they are worth?"
"£5,000," screamed the audience.
"But today I am giving you two." There was hysterical pandemonium. "So Sarah and David, today you are walking out of here with your deposit, the £100,000 main prize, a Headmaster's Award worth £5,000, and not one but two Special Bonus Awards worth £10,000 - a grand total of £115,000 to start your married life."
After the general chaos that followed, the compere extracted a promise of an invitation to the wedding, and as the music swelled he brought to an end that week's showing of School Daze.
Resisting the Temptations of the Flesh
She was on her back on the bed in her spare bedroom, her legs spread wide, her knees raised. He was on top and inside her, thrusting away vigorously and, she could tell, getting near to his climax. He loved to bang away at her for quite a long time before allowing himself to ejaculate, while she used the time to think about all she still had to do before picking the kids up from school.
She didn't like being screwed by him at all. He was fat and hairy, and if there is one thing worse than being screwed by a man with a great fat bum it was being screwed by a man with a hairy, fat bum. However, money is money, and other than that he was OK. He was an irregular regular in that some weeks he'd book and others she wouldn't hear from him. Mostly, she just had five clients who made the bed in her back bedroom creak vigorously.
She was, of course, on benefits because there were simply no jobs in her area, and her ex-husband had left her and their two small children for a nineteen-year-old with two large tits. Benefits only cover the basics, and she couldn't see why her kids should go without the music lessons they loved or anything else that the prime minister's kids could take for granted.
She did feel slightly guilty at earning money like this, and in effect cheating the benefits system, but she wanted her children to have at least some of the opportunities the rich kids had. Besides, a well-known politician had earned twelve million pounds last year and paid less than £400,000 in tax so where was the fairness in that? All the money earned on her back went to her children. It paid for their swimming, music, ballet and gym lessons; it ensured they had good well fitted shoes and proper clothes; and she saved money into their Child Trust Funds so that they would have money for university. She wanted her kids to have at least the opportunity to be free of low paid and insecure work, if any was actually available of course.
With a great gasping groan he finally reached his climax, and she made a fuss of him before seeing him out of the door. Then she rushed around changing the sheets in the bedroom and showering, before clattering downstairs to finish preparing the evening meal. She had bought beautiful high quality minced beef from the reduced counter along with some vegetables, and put the finishing touches to a tasty cottage pie. They were having baked apples and homemade custard afterwards.
She was a canny shopper but determined that her kids would eat properly. The money she saved with her canniness, plus a little of her back-bedroom money, paid for days out to interesting places. Well, why should only the rich have those chances? It was alright for the likes of the prime minister with his privileged background, but if kids never went anywhere they had nothing to discuss and no chance of expanding their horizons.
Her busyness served to calm her mind before her one o'clock client. Her Friday afternoon client paid well, but it wasn't just a question of being on her back, this was much more demanding. All her clients were in their fifties or sixties, and liked her because she was ordinary. She dressed respectably, her house was clean and neat - she wasn't just any old tart. Yet they were all married except her Friday afternoon, he was a widower and she knew him well.