by Sarah Veitch
'I kept meaning to hand it in,' Charlotte said.
'And meanwhile you just hid it inside your shoe?'
'I... put it there for safekeeping.' It sounded ridiculous even to herself. In truth, she'd stolen the ring after one of the guests - apparently a Mrs Colhart - had taken it off to go for a dip in the outdoor pool.
Karo sighed impatiently. 'Spare me your fairy story.' She turned to Mr Steen. 'I really must go now.'
'Don't you want to see her being caned for theft?' the headmaster asked.
'No, I've enough new slaves of my own who'll need whipping. She's all yours,' Karo replied.
'I'll punish her now,' the man said, rubbing his hands together with glee.
Charlotte again searched for a way out. 'But I didn't steal from you, sir,' she muttered.
'No, but you laughed mockingly when you first saw me.'
'It was the outfit I was laughing at,' Charlotte said.
'Then you were laughing at an honoured academic tradition. That's equally heinous. He pointed to the door opposite the cloakroom. 'I'm going to give you three of the cane for keeping that ring and another three for answering back. Now get in there and bend over the teacher's desk.'
'But I didn't mean to...'
'Actions speak louder than words - though my cane makes a girl sing for her supper. Don't keep me waiting or you'll get double,' the man said.
Knowing that she was bested, the twenty-six year old pushed open the classroom door. She strode towards the desk - then stopped, aghast, upon seeing twenty other adult pupils sitting quietly and facing the front of the class.
'Oh hi,' she said, feeling even more silly than before.
No one spoke. Were they mute or had they taken a vow of silence? Rather than stand in front of them and be stared at, Charlotte walked over to the window and looked out into a little concrete yard. The schoolyard had a sandpit and a grassy area, plus chalk marks on the ground presumably indicating where the pupils should stand in line.
'What did I tell you, girl?'
Charlotte jumped as she heard a cane strike wood followed by the schoolmaster's voice.
'I...' She turned around and faced him. 'Sorry, sir. I thought I should wait to be introduced to my new classmates.'
'Just introduce them to your bare bottom. I'm sure they'll be seeing a lot of it,' Mr Steen said.
He pointed to his big wooden desk. 'Bend over it and pull down your pants.'
Charlotte ran her tongue over her suddenly-dry lips. Approaching the desk was the last thing that she wanted to do, but she hastened to comply. She'd learned on isle one of the Training Grounds that procrastination always earned slaves further pain.
Reaching the piece of oak furniture, she inhaled hard. Assuming the position always took every ounce of her limited courage. Breathing quickly, she arched her body over then reached back and lifted up her pinafore, exposing her navy pants.
'Pull them down, girl,' the headmaster prompted.
Unable to put off the hateful moment any longer, Charlotte edged the heavy cotton over her hot backside. Thereafter the weight of the garment ensured that it slid down her thighs and knees to bunch at her ankle socks. Several pupils giggled, presumably amused at the sight of her palmprinted and powdered bottom and swollen labial lips. She cast a sideways glance at Mr Steen, hoping to see him smile in approval - but instead her eyes were drawn to his long, slender cane.
At the sight of it she almost reared up from the desk. But Mr Steen was blocking the way to the door - and as she watched, she saw him lock it and pocket the key.
'I'm really sorry for laughing, sir,' she mumbled, meaning it.
'You'll be even sorrier when you're dancing beneath this beauty,' the headmaster said.
Charlotte closed her eyes and gritted her teeth as he approached. She waited for the rod to lash into her sentient flesh - but instead felt his fingers pushing her pinafore further up her back.
'As your bum cheeks have already been warmed by our very thorough Matron,' he said, fondling both buttocks, 'it'll save me having to spank them in preparation for the cane.'
'Yes, sir,' Charlotte said obsequiously, determined to get in his good books. But her attempts did nothing to save her, for seconds later she felt the first cruel centre-of-bottom lash.
'Jesus!' She leaped up, as she virtually always did, holding her bottom and backing away from the source of the torment.
'Over now or you get double,' Mr Steen said.
Whimpering, Charlotte moved back towards the desk, faced it then hesitated.
'Now,' the man reiterated and she bent from the waist.
This time she gripped the desk edge extra hard and willed herself to stay in situ. Again, the cane landed squarely in the centre of her naked posterior and again she howled and jack-knifed up.
But this time she just rubbed the soreness for a few seconds before getting back, trembling but determined, into place.
'Ask nicely for the third one,' Mr Steen ordered.
If she didn't he'd probably triple her punishment. 'Please... please cane me again, sir.'
She whimpered with renewed pain as she felt his large hands kneading at the first two stripes.
'Oh come on, girl. You've spent months at isle one. You know the drill. You can do better than that.'
Charlotte knew that he wanted her to belittle herself so thought back to some of the phrases that she'd heard the more subservient girls of the Training Grounds use towards their masters.
'Please, sir, I deserve to have my bad little bottom tanned again.'
'You do indeed,' the man said with obvious relish - and soon followed through with another searing stroke.
This time Charlotte jumped up clutching her taut bum and did a little shuffling dance.
'You can't shake the sting out,' the headmaster explained. He pointed at the desk. 'And it's pointless even trying when I haven't finished caning you. Bend back over now.'
Charlotte looked red-facedly at the other pupils and they all stared back. The boys, she noticed, tended to look excited whereas the girls were somewhat embarrassed and presumably felt sorry for her.
Snivelling, she lowered herself over the heavy oak surface again and gripped it tightly. She could feel all three of the cane lines burning across her hindquarters and dreaded the application of a fourth.
'Push those cheeks up a bit,' the man said, and Charlotte felt the rod give a warning tap at her extremities. With effort, she forced her buttocks further into the air. She heard one of the adult schoolboys whistle and another boy laughed gruffly. It was hell for her knowing that they were all staring at her naked haunches with their searing stripes.
She waited an interminably long time and still the headmaster didn't apply the fourth stroke. Eventually she glanced back at him but he simply said 'Head to the front, girl, whilst I admire the view. It's very fetching.'
Charlotte gritted her teeth with the shame of it all but knew better than to make some smart reply.
Indeed, the next sound she made was a prolonged 'Aaaaaah!' as the rod made contact again. This time the cane sizzled along the tendermost place where arse meets thigh. She jumped wildly to her feet and held onto her bottom in a paroxysm of panic. 'Please, sir, no more!' she begged.
'Two more,' Mr Stern replied matter of factly. 'We have a tradition here of six of the best.'
It was clear to her that he'd made up his mind, so - after another desperate rub at her soreness - she again prostrated herself over the ungiving desk.
The fifth stroke fell higher than the others and again caused her to catapult up in a vain bid to take her bottom away from the ruthless rod.
'I'm sorry,' she sobbed as she kneaded her flaming buttocks, 'I never could bear the cane.'
'Then let's hope that you're a very good pupil,' Mr Steen retorted. 'For it's frequently used for misdemeanours here.'
Resolving to be a paragon of virtue, Charlotte got into position and asked supplicatingly for the final stroke. The headmaster obliged, laying it across the central swell of
her naked cheeks. Charlotte knew these cheeks must be vermilion by now.
She lay there after her punishment was over, unsure what to do next.
'Go to the washroom, girl,' the headmaster said, 'and wash your face.'
Staring ashamedly at the wooden floor, Charlotte edged her knickers up over her inflamed bottom. Even the feel of the soft cotton on her sore parts made her wince.
'You'll find it at the far end of the corridor, on your left,' the man explained.
Charlotte left the classroom and walked along until she found the little room with the low sink. The sink had bars of hard red soap at the side that were reminiscent of her early schooldays. There were also animal and flower drawings - albeit clearly done by adult pupils - on the walls.
Charlotte splashed warm water over her face and ran cold water over her wrists, remembering that this was supposed to be calming. A few minutes later she felt sufficiently composed to return to class.
Walking into the room, she looked around for an empty desk and chair.
'No, naughty pupils stand in the corner for twenty minutes after a caning,' Mr Steen said, pointing to the window area. Miserably Charlotte shuffled over. 'And take your pinafore dress off and pull your knickers to your ankles,' he added casually.
Charlotte glanced at him beseechingly but he was staring uncompromisingly back. She looked at the other pupils and they were craning their heads in her direction. Trying to make her mind a blank, she unbuttoned her grey pinafore and let it fall to the floor.
'Knickers down now,' the headmaster reiterated. Charlotte whimpered with renewed shame but obediently removed the navy cotton. Now her tenderised curves were fully displayed.
She pretended to look out of the window for the next twenty minutes but in truth her concentration was on the pain in her punished parts - and she was all too aware that they were the focus of forty eyes.
At last Mr Steen clapped his hands. 'Right, Charlotte, we've seen enough of your privates for today. Put them away and take a seat.'
'Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.' Blushing, Charlotte pulled up her pants and hastily buttoned her pinafore in place. She took the chair that the headmaster indicated then immediately wished that she was standing up again.
'Lucky for you that class is over in an hour,' the man said conversationally. 'I've seen naughty little girls spend all day squirming on these exceptionally hard seats.'
For the next hour he talked about the importance of the work ethic, how they must all band together.
'We can't always afford imports so we must be creative, thrifty and environmentally aware,' he concluded. Charlotte forced back a yawn. When she'd lived in England she'd imported everything from Honolulu king prawns to Chinese vases. She'd...
'Class dismissed.'
Charlotte stood up with the others, hoping that she could talk to one of the girls, find out how to work the system.
'Charlotte,' the headmaster added, 'you've to come with me.'
Fuck, that was all she needed. 'Yes, sir,' she murmured, then followed him nervously through the corridors and across an expanse of concrete to what looked like a large schoolhouse.
'As you've had such a long day,' he said as soon as they entered the building, 'I've decided to treat you to an early night.'
It was only 4pm. Charlotte stared at him as he led the way into a dormitory. He pointed to the first pair of bunk beds. 'Take one of those.'
'Can I take the top bunk?' Charlotte asked.
The man smiled. 'No matter which one you take, you'll end up on the bottom.' She felt his hands snake their way around her waist. 'Lie down on your tummy.'
Weak with uncertainty, the twenty-six year old obeyed.
'Skirt up, panties down,' the headmaster said gruffly. They seemed to be his favourite words in the universe. Her arse already hurt like blazes. Was he really going to cane her more?
Charlotte felt hot all over as she raised her pinafore and edged down the navy blue knickers. She buried her face in her hands and waited for whatever was to come.
Seconds later his body covered her and she realised he had something other than caning in mind. 'You've a hot little bum,' he muttered, 'but does your pussy get as hot?'
To her surprise, she felt his fingers sliding around to seek her clitoris. He stroked lightly around the little bud and despite herself she moaned with desire. The man continued to tease her then suddenly she felt his cock slide all the way in.
'A girl often enjoys a good fucking after a caning,' he said curtly. 'Don't you think?'
'Yes, sir,' Charlotte mumbled then gasped as his cock pushed against her cervix. He was clearly having a good time judging by his increasing length. She wondered if she should pretend to have an orgasm in the hope of bringing on his own climax more swiftly. But to her surprise he played with her clit some more and she genuinely came.
The headmaster came a few seconds later then rested on top of her for a while. When he revived, he said 'Hands and knees, girl. I'm going to fuck you doggy style.'
'Yes, Mr Steen.' Stiffly Charlotte got onto all fours.
'Stick your arse out further and open these thighs a bit,' the man said.
'Yes, sir.' Charlotte felt ridiculous as she adjusted her stance. She could see her tits hanging down like two udders. Worse, her hot talcumed backside was prominently displayed.
'You've striped up nicely,' the headmaster said as he pulled her further back by the tummy and she felt his cock probe at her sex-slicked entrance. 'I know how to give a good caning even if I say so myself.'
He slid inside her and began to buck half out then all the way in. Charlotte blushed with new shame as she heard others entering the dormitory. She watched as four of the other adult pupils sauntered past and lay down on their bunks.
'You've met Charlotte already,' Mr Steen said, as he continued to fuck her. 'She's just trying to be the teacher's pet here for a while.'
The twenty-six year old looked over at the two men and two women and they smiled lazily back and continued to watch the headmaster thrusting into her. As her tits jiggled up and down and her sore bum was pushed forward, Charlotte wondered how she'd endure the shame. She shut her eyes but she could still imagine the strangers staring at her, assessing her most intimate curves.
At last Mr Steen climaxed again. 'Suck me clean, girl,' he ordered perfunctorily, withdrawing from her and stretching out on his back then putting his hands behind his head.
Charlotte wished that she could bite his cock clean off, but she knew the penalty for that would be unbearable. Instead she did exactly as she was told, crouching at his thighs and taking his salty manhood in her mouth. Obediently she lapped at it and at his scrotum until there wasn't a trace of sexual lubricant left.
'What now, sir?' she murmured, sitting back on her knees but keeping her sore bum away from the bunk bed's surface.
'Now we rest, then go to the dining room for our evening meal, have showers and go to bed.' He pulled her across his knee and began to trace the cane lines across her arse. 'Get lots of sleep tonight, Charlotte, because it's Games tomorrow. And here at isle two we take our sports very seriously indeed.'
Christ, that was all she needed. This really was her idea of hell. 'I've never been very good at sports,' she admitted, hoping that she was in his good books now that he'd climaxed twice inside her.
'We don't demand athletic prowess but we do expect our pupils to give of their best,' the headmaster said. He squeezed her breasts lightly in his large, smooth hands. 'Suffice to say that any girl who appears to be slacking soon feels the plimsoll against her bare backside.'
Chapter Two
The following morning Charlotte was woken by the school bell. She turned her head cautiously on the pillow and was relieved to see that the sexually-demanding Mr Steen hadn't returned to her bed after she'd retired for the night.
'I'll show you where the showers are,' offered a female voice. Charlotte looked up to see a girl of about her own age standing by the bunk beds. She was as naked as Charl
otte was.
'Don't we get dressing gowns?' she asked nervously.
'There's no point as it's so warm here,' the girl replied.
'Yet they make us wear a school uniform.'
'That's to make you feel silly because you broke the rules,' the other pupil explained. She held out her hand. 'I'm Amanda, by the way.'
'Charlotte. I just arrived from camp one yesterday.'
'We prefer to call it isle one - and this is isle two, of course. Sounds much less institutionalised,' Amanda said. She sat on the side of the bed. 'I've heard isle one has a really lenient approach. I'm considered so much of a rebel that I was taken straight here - to isle two, I mean - from Germany six months ago.'
So the first island of the Training Grounds, with the painful regime that she'd just left, was considered to be lax. Charlotte shivered despite the morning sun and wondered what was in store for her.
'Come on, let's shower then get down to breakfast,' Amanda said, pushing her long blonde hair out of her eyes.
'I was bathed by that bitch Matron yesterday,' Charlotte muttered.
'Oh, that's just the inaugural washing. You'll get to shower with the other girls from now on,' Amanda explained.
'And I've to see Nurse for my medical next Monday,' the British girl continued.
'Poor you. Nurse likes naked girls so she'll try to take more than your pulse,' her new German friend said.
'So do I just go along with it or scream like hell?'
Amanda looked at her squarely. 'Do exactly as she says - do as all the people in charge say - and you won't go far wrong.'
Seconds later the two young women entered the communal shower and Charlotte tried not to notice the dozen or so naked females standing close to her. A couple of them were clearly more interested in each other than they were in soaping their own bodies clean.
'Is that allowed?' she whispered to Amanda.
'Of course it is. We're not complete killjoys here,' Amanda said.
Girl-on-girl sex had never been her thing but Charlotte didn't say so for fear of offending Amanda. She was glad to have made such an immediate friend. Now, standing under the hot water and cleansing herself with geranium-scented shower gel, she felt quite positive about everything.
