"Very well, then," concluded the deputy Head. At that moment the bell rang, and Prudence called out,
"Your weekend homework assignment will be on the board this evening. Jennings, don't forget your two pages, by Monday without fail, please."
"Yes, Miss," said Alice quickly, eager to go across and comfort Grace.
Grace was still crying silently as Alice helped her up the stairs to the dorm. They went to Dorm K where Alice got out her cream.
As Grace lay draped over Alice's knee, a little recovered now as she felt the wonderfully soothing coolness of the Ponds which Alice applied with careful gentleness on her blazing, welted buttocks, she said, "Alice, I swear I'm going to ... I'm going to ... I don't know, but I'll do something, Alice. We've got to get our own back. It's not fair."
"I know, Grace," said Alice. "I know."
27. Whacked with This?
Around four on Saturday afternoon, with no hockey match or film this week, Rachel and Susan were at a loose end. It was raining, had been for hours and it didn't look like letting up. Christina was reading on her bed in the dorm, everywhere else was crowded and they wanted somewhere quiet just to be together.
"I know!" said Susie. "Let's go to the attic room! And we should call it something special like ... um ... SWACK Headquarters."
"Yes!" said Rachel, "Or ... or ... the Swackattic Room!"
Susie laughed. "Anyway, how about it, Rache? We could at least see if Very Waring's in her room or not, and if she isn't ..."
"Yes, all right," said Rachel and they set off up the stairs, two at a time. When they reached the bottom of the staircase to the third floor they paused. Rachel trod carefully on the uncarpeted boards, climbing just far enough to be able to see, through the banisters, whether there was light showing from the crack at the bottom of Miss Waring's door, though it wasn't dark outside yet.
"I think it's all clear!" she whispered.
"Then why are you whispering?" whispered Susie. They both giggled.
"I don't know!" whispered Rachel. "Probably for the same reason you are, cleverclogs!"
Rachel carried on up the stairs and Susan followed close behind, watching with a slightly guilty pleasure the swing of Rachel's hips and the movement of her bottom. It suddenly occurred to her that it had been quite a while since that bottom had been whacked!
"Hey, Rache," she said as they reached their destination and Rachel pushed open the door.
"Yes?"
"How long is it since you got whacked?"
"Why?" asked Rachel, turning with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "Are you offering?"
Susan giggled slightly nervously. "No, silly," she said, though Rachel's question made her heart skip a beat and she realised, more consciously than she had before, how the thought of spanking Rachel's bum excited her. She suppressed it. "No, really, Rache, when was it?"
They picked up two pillows from the pile and placed them on the floor next to each other by the sofa so they could lean up against it.
"Don't you remember?" asked Rachel, sitting.
"Erm ..."
"It was Molly - about ten days ago. You cried, remember?" said Rachel, teasing affectionately.
"Oh gosh! Yes! Honestly, Rache, that was so pathetic, wasn't it? I'm sorry! I mean, you come out of Marky's study after the thrashing of your life - first girl whacked with Molly no less, and ... God, you're brave you know..." Her voice trailed off. She turned to face Rachel and took her hand. "And then instead of comforting you and..."
"Hey, Susie," Rachel broke in. She moved her face closer. "Just seeing you there was my comfort ..." She smiled invitingly and moved in for a kiss. Susan's mouth opened in eager response, their lips met and their heads turned slowly back and forth as they explored each other's mouths.
"Mmmm," murmured Rachel after nearly a minute, pulling away. They were both flushed and Susan felt that luscious tingling in her lips that felt like love.
"God I love you," she said. She had a thought and her heart started to race. She quailed for a moment but then took courage. "Rache," she said quietly. "Erm ... would you like me to ... um ..."
"What, Susie?" Rachel looked at her, eyebrows raised.
"Would you like ... actually, no!" She sat back and said very directly, "Rache, you know what? I would really like to give your bum a good whacking!"
Rachel looked very shocked. "Susan French!" she said, frowning fiercely at her friend.
Susan blushed bright red and her face went awkward with shame.
"How DARE you?" breathed Rachel, but her tone was already matching the wicked grin on her face. Susan looked uncertain for a moment. "I thought you'd never ask!" said Rachel, laughing.
Realising how she'd been duped, Susan smiled slightly angrily and slapped with both hands at Rachel's arms and shoulders. "Oh, you sneaky cow ...!" she laughed.
"No, not there Susie!" said Rachel, and she turned and got onto her knees facing the sofa. She leaned forward, parting the pile of cushions and stuck out her bottom. "Try that!" she said.
Susan looked momentarily stunned. She looked around. "But, Rache - won't it make too much noise? I mean ..."
Rachel pushed herself upright again. "Yes, maybe you're right, but we could just try a few, couldn't we?" she asked, a bit disappointed. "Tell you what. I'll go and double-check that Waring's really not there."
She got up and disappeared into the corridor. Susan heard her creeping down the stairs and then she looked up sharply as she heard two loud knocks from downstairs. Her eyes widened. After a few moments she heard the knocking again, then the sound of Rachel coming back up.
"Gosh, that was brave!" said Susan when Rachel reappeared. "What if she'd been there?"
"Oh," said Rachel nonchalantly, "I'd have just asked her about the Geography homework or something." She turned to the door and tried to make it close properly. The latch bolt wouldn't click as it should. She looked around. "I'll see if I can't get this to close more," she said. She went to the bookcase and picked out some heavy-looking volumes and started to stack them against the foot of the door. After she'd piled up about ten she was satisfied. She wiped her hands on her skirt to get the dust off. "Now, some pillows - Susie," she said and Susan passed her three pillows from the sofa. Rachel pressed these up against the foot of the door around the stack of books.
"There, that should do it."
Susan's heart was still thumping away. She sat feeling rather helpless, and in complete awe of Rachel's efficiency. Rachel looked around again.
"Now then," she said. She wandered round the room, searching. Eventually, she came back to the bookcase and surveyed the rows of books, running a finger along the spines. Eventually she settled on a newer-looking, medium-thick volume in brown leather. She pulled it out and wiped the dust from the top. She grasped it by one end and swung it through the air. Then she tapped it firmly against her palm.
"Here," she said, handing it to Susan. "It's got a nice hard cover and it's not too thick for you to get a grip on it. But it should be heavy enough to give a nice whack."
Susan stared at Rachel as she took the book. She gulped. Rachel arranged her pillow to kneel on. She got back into position and lifted up the back of her skirt. "Knickers down, Miss?" she asked meekly. Susan took a deep breath and got into role.
"Yes, knickers down, girl," she said in quite a good imitation of Miss Bainbridge. Rachel slowly unpeeled and Susan stared appreciatively at the lovely round buttocks as they were gradually unfolded to her glazed eyes. Even after ten days there were faint traces of the stripes from Rachel's caning with Molly.
Susan took a firm grip on the book and got into a position to get a good swing. She pulled her arm back a little way and whacked the book into Rachel's bum.
"Harder please," said Rachel immediately.
"All right," said Susan, pursing her lips. She knelt up on one foot and pulled her arm back a lot further. This time she swung her arm further and brought the book in a lot faster hitting Rachel's bottom with a resounding Smac
k!
"Mmmm," said Rachel. "That was better." She wriggled her bottom a little. Susan noticed it had reddened a bit and licked her lips.
"Right, Thomas," said Susan in her Bainbridge voice. "It's six of the best for you, my girl."
"Yes, Miss, sorry Miss."
"You will be," said Susan and she whacked Rachel's bum with all her might. Rachel was knocked forward a bit but made no sound. Susan whacked again. Rachel let out a loud breath. Susan adjusted her stance and really gave it her all. The book thwacked into Rachel's left buttock, flattening it, and Rachel groaned. Susan gazed in awe at the redness now forming on Rachel's bum and whacked again.
WHAP!
Rachel went 'Oooh!' and wriggled again.
WHAP! WHAP!
Susan couldn't take her eyes off the buttocks as they jiggled under the impact. Rachel let out a small squeal, as much of delight as of pain. Susan had never been so aroused in her life: her head felt giddy, her heart pounded and she could feel her wetness.
"More," moaned Rachel and she stood up. Her slightly drooping eyelids indicated her own arousal. She flipped her skirt up and touched her toes. Susan stood too. She was breathing heavily.
She had just raised the book to deliver, if possible, an even heftier blow when they heard a voice calling,
"What's going on up there?" They heard footsteps on the wooden stairs. They froze. Then Rachel pulled up her knickers quickly and whispered,
"I'll tell her I was alone. Just keep quiet!" and with that she yanked at the door until she got it open enough to slip through and she was out into the corridor. Susan heard an indignant voice - it was Very Waring.
"What do you think you're doing up here, Thomas? This floor is out of bounds to girls and you know it! What..."
"I'm sorry, Miss," cut in Rachel's voice, quickly. It sounded as if they were at the top of the stairs. "I know I shouldn't have come up here, Miss, but I ... I was just ... " Susan winced as she sensed Rachel flailing for an excuse.
"You were just what, girl?" said Miss Waring angrily.
"I ... I ... was bored, Miss," said Rachel desperately.
"That's no excuse! Stand aside, girl, and let me pass," said Miss Waring and Susan heard another step.
"No! Miss, no, please, I was just..."
"THOMAS! Get out of the way this INSTANT!"
"Miss, really, I was just..."
Susan heard sets of footsteps approaching. She darted over to the far end of the bookcase and pressed her back against the wall. Somehow Rachel had managed to stay ahead of Miss Waring for it was she whom Susan saw backing into the room. She held her breath. Rachel's eyes flickered in her direction and registered where she was.
"Miss, let me explain," cried Rachel desperately. Susan heard Miss Waring's voice very close by. She must be standing in the doorway. "Miss, I'm sorry! I was ... I was..."
By some miracle, Miss Waring hadn't come further into the room. If she had, she would have seen Susan instantly.
"This had better be good. Look at the mess in here! What on earth were you doing?"
"Miss, I was ... I..."
"Yes? Well? Out with it!"
Susan's heart was in her throat and she clenched her fingers and winced in desperate support of her utterly nailed friend.
"I ... I ... was ... whacking myself, Miss!" said Rachel.
"You were WHAT?!" exclaimed Miss Waring. There was a silence. Susan could see the blush spreading on Rachel's face as she stood there awkwardly. "What ... why ... Good heavens, girl, why on earth were you doing that?"
"I was feeling very angry with myself, Miss, 'cause ... I ... I haven't done my homework, Miss, and ... and ... when I feel like that, I ... I find it..."
There was another silence.
"I see," said Miss Waring eventually, obviously nonplussed but somewhat mollified. "Well, that is NOT a good idea, Thomas, and ... and well, if it's a whacking you want, then ... well, you've earned yourself one now, haven't you? This floor is out of bounds, as you very well know, and that is a serious misdemeanour."
"Yes, Miss," said Rachel meekly.
"Now pick up those books and put those pillows back."
"Yes, Miss."
Rachel tidied the pillows and brought the books back from beneath the door, piling them on a shelf. "And that one!" said Miss Waring. Rachel bent and picked up the book Susan had used to whack her with and placed it quickly on the edge of the shelf right next to Susan's head. Their eyes met for a second: Susan's were wide with admiration, Rachel's bright with adrenaline.
"Very well, now come out of there." Rachel gave Susan the briefest final glance and disappeared out of the door. "This will be reported Thomas, you can be sure of that," heard Susan as the door was pulled to. "This part of the wing is private and you have NO right wandering around up here." Susan heard their steps as they descended the stairs. "I shall be speaking to the Headmistress about this in due course," she heard in the distance. "Now run along and don't ever come up here again." This was followed by the sound of Miss Waring's door opening and closing with a bang.
Susan let out a huge sigh of relief, bent her knees and flopped down onto her haunches. She couldn't help but smile at the irony of the situation. As Waring had said, Rachel had wanted a whacking and now she was in for one - probably a caning in fact.
Meanwhile, Susan was trapped. There was no point getting caught trying to go down those stairs, not after everything Rachel had been through to protect her. And Waring was bound to come out at the slightest sound now. She'd just have to listen out and wait till she heard her going somewhere.
---oOo---
Prudence shut the door to her room forcefully and stood for a moment with her back against it. She felt very annoyed at the thought of any of the girls wandering up to her floor, disturbing her privacy. But Thomas! Whacking herself? Actually, it didn't surprise her - she'd always sensed something a bit ... masochistic ... about Thomas, so this fitted. She shook her head. What was it about this place?
Then she thought about the evening ahead and her own, not dissimilar, intentions. She sighed and winced at the prospect of what she was going to ask for. And why? It was just plain peculiar. But she knew she wouldn't shake off her feelings of guilt about French without that retribution. She shivered. Miss Markham's caning had changed her life, yes, but she was getting a little worried: was she going to need a thrashing every time she didn't match up to her new high standards? Damn! She was NOT looking forward to it, and Monica, she knew, was capable of ferocity.
She went over to her chest of drawers and took out the slacks she intended to wear. She climbed out of her skirt and pulled them on. They were grey and fitted her very snugly. She stood before her mirror and turned to view herself side on: she had a perfectly curved bottom, even if she did say so herself. She thought of Emily and Margaret. Meeting the reflection of her own steady gaze in the mirror, she wondered guiltily at the desire she saw there to inflict pain and hear the cries of the punished.
---oOo---
After squatting on her heels for a while, replaying in her mind the excitement of the past twenty minutes, Susan's knees started to ache and she stood up. She looked around, wondering what to do while she waited. She wished she had the spelling book Miss Markham had given her - she was beginning to feel as if she could, bit by bit, get better at it.
As she turned, intending to go and make a comfy place to sit among the pillows on the sofa, she accidentally dislodged the book Rachel had left on the edge of the shelf and it started to topple. She reacted quickly and caught it before it could fall. 'Phew!' she breathed in relief. 'Don't want Very Waring hearing that! That book's made enough noise for one afternoon,' she thought ruefully.
She hadn't really looked at it in its earlier incarnation as whacking tool. It was light brown and leather-bound and looked rather new. Strangely, it had no title on either the cover or the spine. She opened it. The first two pages were blank. On the third page she read,
THE GIRLS OF CROPTON HALL
; by
SIR STANLEGH MEETH
Probably some deadly boring history of the school, she thought, but at least it wasn't covered in dust and it had, after all, become intimate with her Rachel's lovely bottom, so maybe it deserved a bit of a read. She tiptoed over to the sofa with it and, parting some cushions to make a space, seated herself. Some feathers flew up and she brushed some tiny flecks of pink fluff off her knee.
The pages were very fresh: she had to prise them apart a bit and press them back as she turned each new one.
After the title page was another blank one and on the next, simply,
For GP and MJH
and with gratitude to Beth and Sebastian
She wondered who they were - probably some old codgers long gone, she thought - and turned over to the next page. 'Chapter One: How Molly Played a Part' she read. It didn't occur to her that this might be the same Molly with whom Rachel had recently become so painfully acquainted.
She started to read: "Established in 1888 to educate the daughters of the upper and mercantile classes..."
She yawned and was about to give it up as a dry old waste of time - what the heck, for example, did 'mercantile' mean - when she saw that it must be very recent: it said 'the early 1950's' and then - the cheek - the writer said the school mostly admitted 'girls of a troublesome disposition'...
What does he mean, 'troublesome', she thought indignantly. Who does he think he is? She read on and her eyes began to widen ... 'the summer of 1953' she read, and then Miss Bainbridge was mentioned. Gosh! This really was up-to-date! Now she was interested. And when she came to a bit from Miss Bainbridge's diary about Rachel, 'I gave her an extra 50 lines for blaspheming' her mouth fell open and she gasped.
"I remember that!" she exclaimed aloud. She put her hand over her mouth and froze, looking at the door. She waited a few moments but she heard no sound from downstairs, so she turned her attention back to the book. This was really exciting! She could almost hear Miss Bainbridge's voice saying the lines as she read.
The Girls of Cropton Hall Page 38