Further Training

by Sarah Veitch

  Trembling at the prospect of tasting that selfsame cane, Charlotte left the Breakfast Room and walked to Mr Steen's office. She hesitated then knocked sharply.

  'Come in,' his familiar voice called.

  Charlotte pushed open the door and shuffled in. To her surprise, there was a middle aged woman seated on the other side of the headmaster's desk. She and the man had obviously been having a chat.

  'Girl, come in and meet Ms Dear, your headmistress,' Mr Steen said.

  Charlotte attempted a little curtsey but the sheet got in the way.

  'What on earth are you wearing, child?' the woman murmured.

  'Ma'am, I'm sorry that I'm not in my usual uniform but it was stolen yesterday.'

  'Stolen?' Mr Steen repeated.

  Charlotte searched for a version of the truth that would save her arse. 'Yes, sir. I went out a little walk and some strangers stripped me.'

  Mr Steen started to shake his head. 'You shouldn't have gone out a walk last night. I didn't issue an evening pass,' he said.

  'A pass? I didn't know I needed one, sir. In my last school...'

  'Amanda is supposed to bring you up to speed on the rules. She'll have to be caned for this,' the headmaster said.

  Worse and worse. Amanda would tell them what really happened and she'd be further punished. 'Actually, she did mention something about a pass. I just wasn't paying much attention,' Charlotte replied.

  Mr Steen withdrew a long, slender cane from his desk drawer. 'Ignorance of the law is no excuse,' he said.

  Charlotte felt as if her gaze was glued to the cane. 'I'm so sorry, sir.'

  'You will be.'

  'If I could just have a new uniform...'

  'No, we'll have to go walkabout to find your existing one,' the man said. He picked up the inclement rod. 'But first, I'm going to teach you a lesson so that you don't go out without permission and don't do whatever it is you did to lose your clothes.'

  Ms Dear stood up. 'Shall I hold her in place for you, Mr Steen?'

  The headmaster nodded. 'Over the desk, I think. Naked, of course.' He tapped the sheet with the end of the rattan. 'Take that sheet off now, girl.'

  Shivering despite the strong morning sunlight streaming through the study window, Charlotte peeled the white cotton away from her silken flesh. She let the material fall into a loose pile at her side then stood there, nude, staring at the man.

  'Over the desk, child,' he repeated.

  Charlotte swallowed hard and approached the large expanse of wood. She inhaled then forced herself to arch over. She stretched her hands out and felt an additional fear when they were grabbed by the ironically-named Ms Dear. There was nothing dear about the woman who now held her wrists in an iron grip.

  Charlotte quivered anew as she felt the cane being traced down her naked rump.

  'I see this arse has recently taken a telling,' the headmaster said softly.

  'Yes, sir. A strange woman punished me with a ruler, sir,' Charlotte replied.

  'I'm sure she had her reasons. Let's just say that I intend to get to the bottom of this,' the man added with an unpleasant laugh. He taunted Charlotte's rump with the rod some more. 'I vaguely remember giving you six of the best recently but my message clearly didn't strike home so this time you're getting ten.'

  'Ten?' Charlotte whispered, horrified.

  'Poor you. You're going to be as striped as a zebra,' the headmistress cut in.

  Charlotte closed her eyes then opened them wide as the first swish cut home. Jesus that hurt. Belatedly she got her breath back and howled. Ms Dear flushed and stared at her increasingly hard .

  'Silly girl. Save your cries for later,' she said breathlessly. 'Not that Mr Steen is swayable. He's promised you ten, so ten you shall have.'

  The younger woman longed to tell the headmistress to fuck off but she held her counsel. She waited, almost sick with trepidation, for the second stroke.

  She didn't have long to wait. Soon the rod whistled down onto her tensed buttocks again, bringing fresh fire. Charlotte wailed and juddered and was still writhing in place when the headmaster applied stroke three.

  'I'm sorry, so sorry!' she gasped.

  In answer, the man doled out stroke four, which seemed to overlap one of the previous stripings. Charlotte bellowed even more loudly and danced about the little she could on the carpeted floor. She pulled at the strong female fingers which held her, but they clearly had much practice in restraining naughty girls for they held her fast.

  'Please let go for a second. Please let me hold my bottom,' she whispered piteously to the older woman.

  'Oh no, dear. That's part of the fun for us, enjoying your utter helplessness,' the woman said. She smiled cruelly at the girl. 'Your bum hurts so much, doesn't it, my sweet? You just want to rub it for a second. But I'm making sure that it has no protection from the rod.'

  'It feels like it's on fire,' Charlotte whispered hoarsely.

  'Of course it does and that's after only four strokes. Can you imagine how it'll feel after ten?'

  'I can't stand it, I really can't,' Charlotte protested, trying once again to pull back from the taller woman's grip.

  'Mr Steen, she's being uppity. I reckon she needs a few hard ones in quick succession,' Ms Dear said.

  The headmaster immediately obliged, lashing strokes five, six, seven and eight into Charlotte's proffered arse. The sheer force and speed of the pain broke her and after much jerking and wailing she lay over the desk and sobbed bitterly.

  'Oh please, no more, no more,' she wailed, her face red and hot from crying.

  'Two more and tell me how much you deserve them,' the patriarch said.

  Charlotte lay there in an agony of indecision. On the one hand, her tortured bottom felt as if it couldn't take any more. On the other hand, if she disobeyed Mr Steen he might punish her further. Deciding to obey him to the letter, she forced her mind to form the most demeaning words.

  'Please sir, I've been a naughty girl and deserve the ninth stroke of the cane,' she offered.

  'How naughty?' the headmaster said.

  Charlotte searched for further humiliating words. 'I've been a very bad girl, sir. I... deserve a very hot arse. I deserve to taste the rod for the ninth time.'

  'You certainly do,' the man murmured and laid it on.

  The stroke seemed to awaken all of the previous strokes and made Charlotte gasp anew. She scrunched and unscrunched her haunches in a futile attempt to dislodge the emblazoned heat. She could feel her feet scrabbling against the carpet so wildly that they must by now have carpet burn. What must she look like, held over this big desk with her bare bottom proffered up for punishment? Mr Steen must be staring at her multiply-striped hemispheres even as Ms Dear studied her anguished tear streaked face.

  There was no escape so she might as well beg nicely for the last stroke and get it over with.

  'Thank you for striping my naughty bottom for the ninth time,' Charlotte said shakily. She forced her remaining pride away. This wasn't the time to get in the man's bad books. 'I'm ready for the tenth lash if you want to apply it, sir.'

  'Oh, I'm in no rush. I'm enjoying the view,' the man said.

  'I'd like to enjoy the view for a change,' Ms Dear cut in. 'Can we trade places?'

  Charlotte tensed anew at the thought of this new shame.

  'Be my guest,' Mr Steen said. Charlotte watched as he walked into her line of vision and took hold of her wrists. Ms Dear then let go and disappeared behind Charlotte's bare backside.

  'Oh, it is sore, isn't it dear?' she said with obvious enjoyment. 'And as hot as little coals.'

  Charlotte moaned as she felt soft female hands palpating her. Ignoring her mewls of pain, the woman continued to squeeze and pinch at the punished flesh.

  'What a red little arse. What a tender little arse. And so vulnerable. Tell me exactly how bad it's been.'

  The younger girl whimpered and looked down so as to avoid Mr Steen's gloating gaze.

  'It's been very disobedient, Ms Dear
,' she said with difficulty.

  'What exactly did it do, child?'

  'It went out of school without a pass, miss. And it lost its uniform.'

  'In other words, this arse has been double trouble. I'm beginning to wonder if ten strokes will be enough.'

  'Oh please, no more. It's so hot I can hardly bear it,' the naked girl whimpered. She feared that if she had more than ten she'd become hysterical with the pain and she hated being out of control.

  'We promised her ten so ten it is,' the headmaster cut in.

  'Oh well, I'll just have to make it a very hard stroke,' Ms Dear said.

  Charlotte sensed that she was standing back and picking up the slender rattan. Then she felt it being teased up and down her helpless hemispheres. Inside she begged the bitch just to get it over with. But Ms Dear clearly liked to take her time and teased Charlotte's quivering scarlet cheeks for quite some time.

  'Beg nicely,' she said at last.

  'Pretty please, give me the last stroke, miss,' Charlotte said, tensing and untensing her multi-striped flesh.

  'Ask me for an especially strong lash as you've been so wilful.'

  'I've been... very disobedient,' the girl said shakily. 'Please lash me hard.'

  She cried out for long, high seconds as the matriarch obliged.

  For an indeterminate amount of time, she lay sobbing over the desk with Mr Steen still holding her hands and Ms Dear admiring - and occasionally stroking - her twitching bottom. Then the headmaster let go of her hands and bid her to stand upright.

  'Stop snivelling, girl. It's time that we went looking for your clothes.'

  Gratefully Charlotte stood up and shakily reached for the white cotton sheet she'd arrived in.

  'No, no. Schoolgirls can only wear school uniform and as you've lost yours, you'll have to go out of doors naked,' the smiling man said.

  Chapter Four

  Three minutes later Charlotte followed the headmaster and headmistress outside. 'Walk in front of us,' Mr Steen said, pointing to the path that led to the shops. Starting to snivel anew, Charlotte did so. She had no doubt that they would soon encounter the Environmental Officer and the seamstress and that they'd tell the school staff about her many - albeit mundane - crimes.

  For the first few minutes of her punishment walk she encountered no one, but then a woman appeared in the distance with what looked like two large dogs on leashes bounding awkwardly in front of her. As they drew closer Charlotte could see that they were girls of around twenty, both as naked as the day they were born. Peering down at them, she noted that they had leather pads to protect their knees and hands - but that they had no protection from the slender stick that their owner was holding and had recently applied to their backsides.

  'Meet Cara's twin pups Buttercup and Daisy,' Mr Steen said.

  Focusing on the girls' faces, Charlotte realised belatedly that they were identical. 'Hi,' she mumbled, feeling stupid at her own enforced nudity and at the girls' intolerable situation. The puppy-girls' owner stared at Charlotte's bare body and grinned.

  'They were on isle one of the Training Grounds until a few weeks before you arrived,' Mr Steen continued, patting one of the puppy-girl's heads.

  Would they ever make her crawl on a leash? Charlotte was so busy thinking about how to protect herself in the future that she briefly forgot about the present day.

  Ms Dear's voice dragged her back. 'Child, get out of the puppies way. I'm sure it's time they went home and ate out of their bowls.' She looked tellingly at their owner. 'They were very naughty schoolgirls when I had them. I hope you'll apply the leash to their rumps with great firmness to prevent them becoming equally naughty dogs.'

  Cara nodded. 'Of course, Ms Dear. I often chain them up after a whipping so that their rumps are outside the kennel and get the full benefit of the sun.'

  'And perhaps a slightly tighter collar with studs on the inside for days when they're getting too frisky,' the headmistress said and the puppy girls blanched.

  They walked on and soon found a naked youth tied to a tree. A woman was using a cat o' nine tails on his muscular posterior. The boy flinched strongly at each blow but didn't make a sound.

  'Is this entire island devoted to punishment?' Charlotte murmured to Mr Steen.

  'And to pleasure for those who deserve it,' he murmured - and Charlotte suddenly remembered the enthusiastic way he'd orgasmed inside her as she balanced on her hands and knees.

  'So what do I do, sir, to earn my share of the pleasure?' she murmured in what she hoped sounded like a respectful voice.

  'Work hard and respect the rights of others. It isn't a complicated philosophy,' the man said.

  'But I have to go to sports psychology lectures and hockey and swimming,' Charlotte retorted.

  'Yes, that's all part of working hard.'

  'And I haven't had any pleasure so far.'

  The older man looked at her more keenly. 'You've had the friendship of the other girls and the very best of food.'

  Charlotte realised grudgingly that this was true - but she'd never been one to show gratitude easily.

  'Apart from that, then,' she jibed.

  'You could have enjoyed the many games in the Recreation Room.'

  'Don't like games.'

  'Or enjoyed walking in the evening sun if you'd applied for an out of school pass.'

  She did like the sun, Charlotte admitted to herself. But she wasn't going to admit it to this know-all who'd so cruelly caned her naked parts.

  'I enjoyed clubs and parties back home. There's nothing like that here,' she said, skirting the bushes that she'd hidden behind the previous night.

  'Wrong - we sometimes have parties here,' Ms Dear cut in. 'Though you're such a spoilt brat I doubt that anyone would invite you.'

  Aware that the woman might carry a coiled whip in her shoulder bag, Charlotte kept quiet.

  'People do have a social life here,' Mr Steen added. 'Oh, not you schoolgirls and boys. After all, you've been so wicked that you're starting again at the bottom of the ladder. As such, we keep you on a fairly tight leash. But once you've graduated from our modest academy you get to work here on island two - and providing you do well you can party every night.'

  'But these puppy girls have graduated and they still aren't enjoying themselves,' Charlotte said weakly, remembering the naked twins ignominy.

  'Yes, they graduated and were given work as the island's gardeners - but they were soon urinating in the swimming pools and burning the grass instead of cutting it,' the headmaster said.

  'So they were turned into puppy girls?'

  Mr Steen nodded. 'Behave like an animal and we treat you like one,' he said.

  As he finished speaking Charlotte realised that they'd reached the first of the stores, the seamstress shop. But when she peered in she realised that it was now filled with flagons of juice rather than tailor's dummies.

  'Have you been here before, child?' Ms Dear asked softly, perhaps noticing that she was confused.

  Aware that it might be a trick question, Charlotte decided not to lie. 'Yes, Ma'am. Last night.'

  'The shops have different uses during the day than at night,' Mr Steen explained. 'For example, by day the residents want juice and snacks and perhaps insecticides if the part of the forest they're working in is very dense. At night they have more time and energy to shop for clothes and imported books and toiletries.'

  They entered the juice shop and Charlotte's nakedness was immediately the focus of four hard male stares.

  'This naughty girl has lost her school uniform,' Ms Dear said. 'Have any of you seen it?'

  The four men grinned and collectively shook their heads.

  'It would be a shame to cover that peach with navy knickers,' one of the men added with a leer, whilst yet another ran an exploratory palm over Charlotte's rump.

  She blushed and stepped away from them as quickly as possible but Ms Dear grabbed her by the elbow and steered her back.

  'Now, don't be shy, girl. Show the
nice men your hot little arse.'

  She made Charlotte grasp her own knees and hold the position whilst the quartet of strangers squeezed, stroked and even slapped lightly at her exposed female parts.

  Finally they moved on to the neighbouring shop which offered every kind of fruit. Again, the headmistress asked the staff and customers if they'd seen Charlotte's grey pinafore and navy knickers. Again everyone studied her lightly tanned flesh and deeply crimsoned bottom before admitting they hadn't found her clothes.

  Realising that the school staff intended to carry on this charade indefinitely, Charlotte cleared her throat and told the truth.

  'I... asked the seamstress last night if she'd make me a sundress, Mr Steen. Pupils aren't allowed to wear sundresses so that made her angry. She and the Environmental Officer tied me over the fence outside and used a ruler on my backside.'

  'A nice hard wooden ruler? I'd have enjoyed watching that,' Ms Dear said, looking directly into Charlotte's eyes.

  Mr Steen led her outside where he consulted a chart on the shop facade. 'Ah, the seamstress worked till late last night so she'll be sleeping now. I'll give you directions to her house but she won't be awake until at least midday so don't ask her for your clothes until this afternoon.'

  'Yes, sir,' Charlotte said, glad that he wasn't offering her further punishment.

  'Just keep walking in a straight line until you reach that tower you can see in the distance,' Mr Steen continued. 'Then turn left and follow the path past the melon field. There's a row of thatched cottages at the end of the path and Christine's is the fourth.'

  He turned away and Ms Dear followed suit.

  'Sir?' Charlotte queried, unsure of what to do next.

  'Just go to Christine's in a couple of hours,' the man said.

  'And what do I do till then?' Charlotte looked miserably down at her naked body.

  Ms Dear smiled. 'Use your imagination. You were all for exploring the island so go on, child, explore.'

  'Without clothes in broad daylight?' Charlotte whispered, mortified.

  'You were naked most of the time on island one.'

  'But most of the girls were naked there. That was different,' Charlotte countered.