Fantasy Holiday

by

Rob Willson

 

Chapter 12

 

The next morning, seven women, between the ages of twenty-two and thirty-five, and one buxom lady of about forty-five were assembled in a schoolroom with the desks in two rows of four.

The women had all been conditioned under drugs and hypnosis to believe they had been recently kidnapped and brought to this bizarre schoolroom.

The ''schoolgirls' were dressed identically in very short 'gymslips' of the 1940's, which barely covered their buttock cheeks. They were also of a very bright orange, which no real school would ever have used, and this fact made them even more humiliating to wear. The 'girls' also wore lime green blouses with blue school ties with yellow diagonal stripes.

The gymslips had a blue badge in the centre of the top wide hem, which had a yellow shield on it with three pairs of crossed canes as the school badge. All of them had had their hair teased into something as near as possible to what a schoolgirl of that period would have worn as a hairstyle, such as plaits, and wore white ankle socks and 'Mary Jane' shoes.

The final item of the uniform was a sash round each waist. Four of the girls, who were slaves, had blue ones and the other four, who were holiday guests, wore green. One girl of each colour had a yellow band along the centre. They were to find out that, for team events, these would be the team captains.

Each girl had a name badge pinned over her left breast and these matched name boards on 'their' desks. Helen and Joan wore green sashes as did the older plump woman called Susan. The fourth 'girl' was called Rachel, but was really Ron, a man who had chosen to be a girl for this scenario. He/she was wearing the captain's sash.

Helen was surprised to recognise girl wearing the blue captain's sash. It was ex-Constabel Kitty from the town of Paradise, but she had obviously been conditioned not to recognise Helen in turn.

The expressions on the faces of the two teams were quite different. Those on the 'blues' were ones of resignation, with added deep despair on the face of Kitty. The 'greens', however, wore a mixture of eagerness, anticipation and apprehension.

The greens were talking quietly amongst themselves, when Lucy, the schoolroom maid came in and told them to take their places and to stand up when 'Sir' arrived, which would be very soon.

They settled into their desks and found them to be very uncomfortable indeed. The seat was very hard and narrow and, as they were soon to discover, this width closely matched the area of their bottoms, which was caned most.

The seats were also very low, which made it very difficult to sit comfortably.

At this point, Peter arrived and the girls struggled up to stand to attention. He stood for a moment, with his hands on his hips, looking coldly at them and then sat behind his table in the comfortable chair.

"Right Ladies. This is the last time I will address you like this. Until a short time ago, you were all leading lives in the outside world, but now you and your bodies belong to me.

"You are now dressed as little girls, because you have all become schoolgirls again, in my school. I like to play at being a schoolteacher, but you are not here to play at being schoolgirls – you ARE schoolgirls. Probably as reluctant as your first time, but schoolgirls nevertheless. You may not enjoy your lessons, and even think them pointless, but I promise you that you will learn them.

"Your new school badge has canes on it. These are symbolic, but those hanging there on the wall over there, are anything but symbolic. Miss Cane and Miss Strap are my assistants in this classroom and I will let you into a little secret. Those canes never need dusting by the schoolroom maid!

"You will have noticed three canes hanging on the wall rack and also three leather straps. These are not historical items, as you may think, or hope, but are in constant use in my classes. I don't want you to be in any doubt about that. Their use is perfectly legal here.

"The first two of each are the junior and senior grades and the third is a punishment grade cane and strap. You may wonder about those names, since you will think that all three are used to punish you. This is not so. The first two are merely to correct any faults day-by-day, whereas the punishment one is used if I find it necessary to make an example of any of you.

"The conditions will remind you of your own schooldays, which, I remind you, have been described as the 'The Happiest Days of Your Lives'. So, that means that you are privileged to have been chosen by me to be in my school.

"You may remember actions for which you were punished, or ought to have been punished, when you were previously at school. Things like bad or slow work; laziness; inattention; insubordination, etc. Well, those things and others are punished here severely, so you can't say you haven't been warned.

"Most important of all is disrespect for me, your Schoolmaster." He glared at them all still standing fidgeting uncomfortably while he sat looking at them.

"The next time you stand up without curtseying when I enter will bring instant retribution. Understand? If I call your name, you will stand and curtsey. If you are already standing, you will curtsey in answer. Do you all understand that?"

They all murmured, "Yes Sir".

"So, if you understand, where were the curtseys?"

They hurriedly curtseyed and repeated, "Sorry Sir. Yes Sir".

"If I call you to me, you will curtsey again, come forward and curtsey when you stop. The same when I send you back to your seat. That seems a lot of curtseying and it is, so now to the good news. You will not be beaten for making mistakes in your school work as I do not believe that is correct procedure." He paused as looks of relief swept over their faces.

"What happens if you make mistakes is that it means you have not been concentrating, or working hard enough, so you WILL be whipped for those lapses. Now sit down and we will begin lessons."

"Stand up again", he roared. "Where were those respectful curtseys? Also when you stood up? I think you all need to be introduced to Miss Junior Cane and she can make my instructions more forcibly."

He took it down off its pegs and swished it menacingly through the air. They all flinched at the ominous threatening sound.

"Now let me give you all a demonstration."

He pointed at the Lucy and she came forward and curtsied.

"Face that wall and grasp your ankles."

She did so and he raised her skirt, and lowered her knickers. The other girls gasped as they realised that the canings were to be on their bare buttocks. He brought the cane down hard on the underhang of her buttocks. A perfect shot.

Lucy screeched and shot up straight with her hands clasping her globes. Peter immediately slashed he cane down over her knuckles and she yelled again and rubbed her hands together in anguish.

"That is something you are completely forbidden to do. First to stand up before being given permission to do so and also to try to protect your little bums. That cut across her knuckles doesn't count by the way, so she still has it to come again. If you do any such thing after this little demonstration, it will also mean extra strokes."

When he had finished giving Lucy six strokes, he told them, "Now sit down again and lift your skirts so that you are sitting directly on the seat".

This time they carefully bobbed before sitting down and lifting their skirts.

"Put your feet flat on the floor and keep your knees together," he ordered.

Some of the pupils had tried to make their positions more comfortable by stretching their legs out in front of them, or by crossing their ankles and opening their knees. They quickly obeyed, each not wanting to be the first to feel one of the canes, but soon realised that sitting for hours like this would be a purgatory in itself, because the seats were so low that their feet and thighs could not take any of their weight, which was now totally on their behinds.

"You. Come here", he snapped pointing at Helen in the front row on the right.

She stood, curtsied, came over to his desk and curtsied again and stood waiting for him to speak.

"Ah! Possibly one of our brighter pupils," he said.

He handed her some sheets of paper and told her to give one to each pupil and then to sit down.

Helen obeyed.

"This is an arithmetic test. There are twenty questions and you have twenty minutes to complete the paper. Right answers will be added up and deducted from twenty. Any figure over will mean strokes of the junior cane, which will be for lack of concentration, or for idleness. That means strokes for any answers you get wrong and any questions you don't answer. Your time starts now."

Twenty minutes later, he rang a small handbell.

"Collect the papers, Monitor, and give these out in their place."

Helen concluded that he had appointed her Monitor and did as he said.

"Now while I mark these, you are to study the fifty facts on the sheet and you will occupy any spare time during the day in learning these facts by heart. Unless you are stupid, you will have already guessed that you will be tested on your knowledge of them at the end of the day.

"And, unless you are very stupid, you will also guess that bad results in this test will mean that you will end the day with a very sore bottom indeed. Now go to it!"

Their wait was very brief and they knew the moment that they had all been dreading had finally arrived.

"Now then. Put those papers away in your desks and sit with your hands on your heads. I'll deal with the 'Blues' first. One of you has three strokes to come, two of you four strokes and you, the Team Captain, who is supposed to set an example, has six."

Peter went over to the cane rack and selected the slender junior cane. The experienced girls in the class were well aware that thin, flexible, whippy canes were misleading in their looks and were very painful indeed, especially 'on the bare'.

"Brenda. Out here."

Brenda obeyed, remembering just in time to curtsey. She was bent over to touch her toes with her backside facing the other pupils. Like the others, she was wearing the regulation school briefs, which were of the same colour and material as her blouse. They barely covered her sex in the front. At the rear, a small strip of material followed the crack up between the cheeks of her arse and covered nothing of her buttocks. Peter gave her three measured wristy strokes, which made her gasp.

She curtseyed again and thanked him and then resumed her seat, giving another small gasp as the cane's target area took the full weight of her body as she sat down.

Next were Rose and Ivy. They both took their four as stoically as possible, with Ivy giving a little whimper as she sat down on the sore area.

Peter smiled to himself as he heard it. His idea of a narrow hard seat so low down had proved to be as successful here as it was at home.

Then it was the turn of Kitty. Peter had also recognised her from Paradise, and Helen watched the expression of satisfaction on his face as he gave her six full-bloodied strokes, which were much harder than those he had given the other girls. Helen knew that Kitty would be a very sore, well-beaten girl by the end of their two-day 'fantasy'. Not so much of a 'fantasy' for Kitty and the other slaves!

Then she realised it was now their turn.

"Now to the Greens. Susan gets three, Helen gets four and Rachel, another Team Captain, 'tut-tut', gets five. But what is this? Joan finished the test and got them all correct. Explain yourself Joan. If circumstances were different, I would accuse you of cheating, so how did you do it?"

Joan stood, also remembering just in time to curtsey and said, "Well, Sir, I have a degree in mathematics"

"Oh really, a degree? I have special penalties for the class dunce, but I have never had to deal with rewards for a class genius before. Of course, there are other subjects yet to be tested and there is always physical training to consider. How is your spelling, by the way?"

"Not too good I'm afraid, Sir."

"Good! Then you can look forward to the end of the next test, can't you, and you will now know what is waiting for you if you fail?"

"Susan!"

Susan bent over to get her three strokes.

"My, you are well-developed for your age, aren't you?" Peter said as he saw her unsupported breasts hanging down under her blouse and he regarded her plump rounded buttocks.

"I think God intended this arse for the cane."

He then gave her three stinging cuts with the thin cane, which made her yelp. Both Peter and Helen concluded that Susan was not very experienced at being beaten and Peter made a mental note to try to check this point out, before he went too far with her.

Now it was Helen's turn to bend over and she knew that Peter was about to serve some retribution for her recent treatment of him.

By now, she was usually capable of receiving only four strokes of such a light cane without making any fuss, but he made sure that all four landed one on top of the other and she knew that the desk seat had marked her bottom to give him the exact target to aim for.

She gave a little whimper as the fourth landed and another as she curtseyed her 'thanks' and then there came a squeal as she sat back down. She had not lowered herself carefully enough! Peter smiled at that.

Finally, Rachel got 'her' five.

Peter gave her a mini-lecture on the duty of all Team Captains to lead and to set an example and then, with the cane returned to the rack for the time being, Peter gave them the spelling test.

Another period of studying the fact sheet and then it was back to 'hands on your heads', whilst he gave out the results of that test. Each, once again, got differing amounts and Helen once again got four, all laid on exactly the same place, which she thought unnecessarily cruel of Peter. Peter had already decided this himself and had planned to put future strokes on to a different area of her bum.

He deliberately left Joan to the last, in order to drag out her apprehension, and then finally.

"Joan".

She stood, "Yes Sir".

"Well, you were quite right. You are not too hot on spelling are you? Eight mistakes."

"Eight Sir? I thought it was better than that Sir. Can I have a look at my paper, please Sir?"

Helen and the slave girls all sucked in their breath at this remark. Joan obviously didn't realise what she had done.

"No you can't. It sounds as if you are doubting your teacher's word."

She was quite right, in fact, because she had only made four mistakes, but that wasn't what the game and fantasy was all about. She hadn't yet been a maid who had scrubbed a floor perfectly clean and then been punished for 'marks' left that even the keenest-eyed hawk could not have seen).

"After your small success with the arithmetic paper, it seems to have gone to your head and you need taking down a peg or two. Well, I have a solution for that. Four strokes with the junior cane and four with the senior. Count yourself very lucky that I am still in a good mood and I am not making it eight with the senior, or even the punishment cane."

Joan came forward, now realising too late what a fool she had been, and was bent over the back of a chair for support, holding grimly on to the seat. She realised that this caning would be something more than she had previously received at the hands of her young 'mistress' Cindy.

Peter then gave her four slow strokes with the junior cane, well-spaced out on her buttocks and then made a great show of changing over to the longer, thicker, senior cane. He then gave her another four, which he placed carefully between the first four. Joan couldn't help yelling as these landed and was the first girl to end her session crying and she resolved never to be so stupid again.

This resolution was reinforced as she put her sore buttocks onto the wood and she found that the previously uncomfortable position was now even more so. And she still had the rest of the school day to go, with the certainty of further canings.

By now, it was mid-morning and Lucy brought Peter in a tray of coffee and biscuits (cookies). For the school children, it was something different. Peter explained.

"Years ago, children were always given milk to drink, because it was thought to be healthy for them. Now we know better. Nature never intended mammals to drink milk after they have been weaned and certainly, other animals never drink the milk of another species. So, your drink here today looks like milk, for old-times sake, but it is a specially formulated nutritious drink for growing children.

Lucy went round to each of the pupils and gave them each a pint mug of the 'milk', after tying a plastic bib round the neck of each child.

"Right you can start now and I want to see every drop drank. ' Waste not, want not', as the saying goes."

The girls innocently raised the mugs to their lips, took their first mouthful and then spluttered. They had expected it to be a milk-replica, but that was only in appearance. It was foul! It had a very slimy texture and a disgusting taste, which they later found would last and last as an after-taste until the next mealtime.

Peter smiled as he enjoyed his coffee and biscuits.

Lessons continued with the nasty taste in their mouths, with the cane, and sometimes the strap for variation, being applied to their backsides.

Eventually it was time for lunch. They were taken into an adjoining room with a large wooden scrubbed table and wooden forms to take four pupils on each side. The plates of food were already on the table getting cold. Before they were allowed to take their seats, they each had to put on a bright yellow rubber pinafore over their school uniform. Even when they were seated, they had to wait while Lucy recited a very long Latin grace.

Then they could begin to eat – it was stone cold by now! One thing Helen was thankful for was that it was not Slave Mix No. 1, nor anything like it. She wondered if Joan had experienced that yet and made a mental note to ask her. The food, in fact, was like typical traditional school food; plain, very stodgy and over-cooked and now stone-cold into the bargain.

They were once again ordered to eat every morsel up. When finished, they hoped for something to drink and were rewarded with another drink of 'milk'.

Lucy had been left in charge of them and made the most of it. She tied the plastic bibs back on, on top of the rubber pinafores and then told them that there was to be a competition. There were no prizes for the winner, but forfeits for the losers.

She gave them each a baby's bottle and then showed them three other bottles. Two were the same size and the other was half as big again.

"The last three girls to finish will each get another bottle to empty, with the last child getting the larger one. Ready, steady GO!"

They all started sucking like mad and found that the horrible taste was not the same as before. If anything, it was worse! It was a thinned down version for use with a teat. Something else they did not realise was that the contest was rigged. Five of the bottles had normal holes in the teats, two, including the one that Joan had been deliberately handed had slightly smaller holes with Helen's teat being smaller still.

So, inevitably, Helen finished last with Joan and Susan just in front of her.

Lucy tut-tutted and handed out the penalty bottles.

"Now I have to tell you that there is a second contest."

She crossed over to a cupboard and took out a slim cane.

"In case you don't know what this is, it is called a prefect's cane. It is the type of light cane given to older pupils in private schools to control and discipline their juniors. Schoolroom maids here are also allowed to use them and this is what is going to happen next.

"The first of you three to finish will get four strokes, the next eight strokes and the last one twelve strokes."

She gave Helen an unpleasant grin as she said this.

"Now GO!"

Helen realising her larger bottle's handicap, gave a strong suck on her teat, expecting it to be the same as her last one, but it had a much larger hole and she sputtered as it gushed into her mouth unexpectedly and the 'milk' ran down her face and on to her bib and apron.

"Stop!" said Lucy.

"No, not you two. Just 'greedy guts' here", she added to the others who then continued to suck frantically, while Lucy took a large spoon and scraped the noxious liquid off Helen's bib, apron and face before putting it to her mouth to lick clean.

Helen was then allowed to continue.

Lucy ruled that the other two had dead-heated, with Helen obviously last. There was no way that she could have caught them up. She then declared that the tie merited six strokes each and they had to bend over the kitchen table and grasp the far edge tightly.

Now Lucy was going to have her own back for being caned as a demonstration.

Although Lucy turned back their skirts, she placed the cuts on the backs of their thighs. The watching girls, including a very apprehensive Helen, could see that this light thin cane was still very effective at delivering pain.

Then it was Helen's turn to bend over the table and she gritted her teeth as she steeled herself. She took the first three strokes across her thighs in silence and then Peter walked through the door.

"What is going on here?" he asked, as though he hadn't been watching the whole thing on CCTV.

Lucy knew he had seen it all, but explained as though he hadn't. The other 'guest' schoolgirls waited for Lucy to be punished for exceeding her authority, but her fellow slaves new better.

"Right! I think you can put that cane back in the cupboard."

Helen gave a small sigh of relief, until he added, "You can finish the punishment with the junior cane from the schoolroom."

As Lucy went to fetch it, he said, "Let this be a lesson to you all to obey orders from anybody put over you."

Helen then had to endure another nine cuts with the thicker heavier cane across her thighs, which had her squealing at each cut.

Peter went back for his coffee and they were then allowed to talk amongst themselves for five minutes, still wearing their pinafores to remind them of their situation.

After that five minutes, during which Helen had managed to find out that Joan still had the dubious pleasure of sampling Slave Mix No 1 to come, they were fitted with large baby's dummies to prevent any further talk and put back to studying their fact sheets.

Peter eventually returned to the class after an excellent lunch of Dover sole and a nice wine.

In the corner of the refectory, there was a television set with a VCR. Peter switched it on and played a video of a team game, which had vague similarities to the English girls' game of net ball, but where the players had to keep a much smaller ball in their hands, whilst jumping up to hit it against a small high plate in order to score. They were told to watch the game carefully to learn the rules, as they were soon to play against each other and ignorance of the Rules would not be accepted.

The impression they all got from the demonstration that it was so very easy to accidentally commit a foul. Questions were allowed at the end and Brenda asked very tentatively, "wasn't it a very unsatisfactorily, non-fluid game, because it kept stopping, as so many fouls were given?"

Peter blandly replied that it gave that impression because it was a demonstration of the Rules of the Game and that, if they didn't keep on fouling their opponents, then it would be fluid. Some chance of that!

They then removed their pinafores and went to the court. Once there, Helen noticed another set of canes and straps hanging on the wall and was immediately suspicious that they hadn't been told everything about the game.

Before the end of the first minute, with both teams feeling their way into the Rules, Rose committed an accidental foul on Susan, and Helen found out that she was right. They lined up to re-start the play in the way that the video had showed, but were stopped by a command from Peter, the referee.

He sent Rose to the wall to fetch the junior cane and made her bend over and gave her a vicious cut across the top of her thighs 'for committing a foul'. He then blew his whistle and the game re-started. Thirty seconds later, he blew again for a foul by Helen. It was her turn to get a cut on her thighs. She sighed resignedly as she realised that this was what the game was really all about.

Then, as one of the girls jumped up to try to score points, her skirt billowed out like a parachute as she came down, exposing everything to view, and a whistle of appreciation from the small viewing gallery indicated that male guests and staff had been told about the game.

Helen also now realised why the ball had to be held in the hand and not thrown up, so as to make the player jump as high as possible.

After a ten-minute 'half', they had a five-minute break before changing ends.

By the time the game finished, the spectators were loudly applauding every jump as they saw the now well-striped thighs and buttocks.

The girls trouped back to the classroom not knowing which team had won and not really caring, but then found that they should have done so.

Peter drew their attention and said, "I forgot to mention that the losing team gets six strokes of the cane and their captain twelve. However, it is a very complicated scoring system, because account is taken of fouls committed, among other things, apart from the points actually scored. Lucy will be along shortly with the final score."

Just as he had finished, Lucy came in with yet another curtsey and gave Peter a piece of paper. They waited for the result with baited breath, realising that half of them were soon to 'taste' the cane once again.

Peter finally said, after keeping them on tenterhooks for several minutes, "Well, it seems this complicated system of scoring has resulted in the game being a draw."

They all gave a sigh of relief. If nobody had lost, then they would all be spared the cane, after all. Then they were disillusioned.

"That means that both teams get half the number of strokes for not trying hard enough to win. I told you I would not stand for slacking. You were warned about this."

Lucy smiled to herself in the background. Most games seemed to end as draws for this very reason.

Peter took down the cane and then they were then brought out one by one and given three strokes each. This time, Peter did aim for a different area of Helen's sore bum and she managed to endure them without making a sound. Both Joan and Susan also managed in silence, but both flinched badly. Peter nodded in silent approval.

The two Team Captains now each got their six. Helen could not help noticing that those given to Kitty were much harder and better aimed at a sore area than those given to Rachel.

Then the 'lessons', canings, and strappings continued into the afternoon, with another episode of bibs and milk.

Finally, the day ended with another spelling test, and the resultant punishments, but not the knowledge test Peter had been threatening them with all day. He now told them to take the facts sheets with them as homework and that the test would be at the end of the next day instead.

Lucy took the girls off and told them they now had a free half-hour before their evening meal. Most of them walked in the grounds, because there were no soft chairs to put their sore arses on. The blues walked singly in their misery and the greens in two pairs with Helen and Joan discussing the day, so far.

Joan said that she was not regretting joining the fantasy, but was sure she would enjoy it more in retrospect, because her arse was hurting so much at the moment.

Helen then said ominously, "Somehow I don't think today is over yet. There is still too much time left before night-time".

"Ouch! Not more beatings I hope," said Joan.

"I shouldn't bet on that," added Helen, knowing how Peter's mind worked.

Their meal was as unappetising as the first one and was followed by the inevitable 'milk'.

When they had finished, Lucy took them to the dormitory and told them to undress.

"When do we do our homework, Lucy?" asked Helen.

"I'm just coming to that part Miss."

They each stood by their beds, which they now noticed had the mattresses covered by rubber sheets and which sagged very badly in the middle. They were then instructed to look under the beds and bring up the wooden planks they found there. These were laid across the bottom of each bed and they then had to climb on to their bed and kneel on the plank with their feet behind them on the rubber sheet.

Lucy told them they had to kneel upright and study their fact sheets like that. She would watch them and had to report any lapses in 'deportment' to the Matron, when she came to put them to bed. They were not allowed to talk and, if they did, Lucy would have to put the dummies back in.

None of the girls wanted this to happen, so they knelt there quietly, studying the 'facts' and finding that their knees were gradually becoming as sore and uncomfortable as their bottoms.

Eventually, they heard the rustle of a starched apron and Lucy was curtseying to the Matron, who of course was Peter, now in nurse's uniform. He was carrying a piece of paper and a thick stiff leather tawse.

He then put on the type of thick rubber apron that Helen had learnt to call a spanking apron in the town of Paradise. Each of the girls was called out in turn for an OTK walloping. 'Matron' continued until each girl was weeping hysterically. Then they were sent to sit on the edge of their rubber-covered mattresses, all sobbing their hearts out.

Lucy then wheeled in a trolley with bibs and bottles on it and Helen guessed what was coming next. It was the inevitable castor oil dose. Three large spoonfuls of it.

The wooden boards were put away under the beds and they each laid down on the rubber sheet. Their hands were strapped to the headboards and their feet were separated by a short spreader bar. This was to prevent them from turning over during the night to ease their sore arses. Lying on their backs, Helen realised that the sagging in the middle of the mattress was under their buttocks and obviously designed to collect any shit during the night. Also piss, since none of the girls had been allowed to empty their bladders.

"Good night. Sleep tight," said Lucy with a wicked grin as she switched the light out.

"And don't forget any talking after 'lights out' and I'll come back with the dummies. I think you will already be uncomfortable enough without me gagging you with those. Just one of you talks and you all get dummies. Good night all".

"Good night Lucy," they chorused.

The next morning, Helen awoke to find herself lying in the expected pool of urine, but, surprisingly, there was no shit. She was amazed at this, considering the spoonfuls of castor oil she had swallowed the night before, but she was not due to find out the answer to that problem until the following day.

Then two unfamiliar women arrived dressed as matrons. They pretended to 'tut-tut' when they saw the pools of urine and got the girls up one by one. They left their hands secured and moved the rubber sheet so that the urine spread over it. They then held each girl facedown, with her face against a smelly wet portion of the sheet, and gave each one twelve strokes with a light strap.

As they did so, they said, with one word for each stroke, "You are a very naughty disagreeable little girl for wetting your bed."

After a breakfast of bread and 'milk', which consisted of large chunks of stale bread soaked in the 'milk', they reassembled in the classroom.

Lessons recommenced, but this time, Peter conducted them more like conventional lessons and only punished them individually when they made the inevitable mistake.

So, after an easier morning and another stodgy meal, they went for another 'net ball' match.

Before they started, this time they had to change into PT kit. Some 'kit'. It consisted solely of a very short flared rubber skirt of blue or green.

They then stood before Peter, knicker-less and bare breasted. He brought out a small box and proceeded to fix two nipple clamps, connected by a very short chain, on to each girl. As he did so with flat chested Rachel, Kitty could not help complaining.

"Please, Sir. That's just not fair. Rachel has virtually no breasts and no weight on them so the clamps will not hurt nearly as much as ours will when we jump about."

There was a fearful silence as Peter ordered her to stand in the corner. He then suspended a small weight from the chain between Rachel's breasts and told her to jump up and down. She whimpered as she obeyed. The weight made it hurt.

"Now slut", he addressed Kitty, "I'll teach you to wait until I have finished before speaking, and also that, in any case, it is I who decides what is fair and what is not! Now bring me the senior cane."

Kitty obeyed and received six hard strokes from it. Then Peter suspended another weight from HER breast chain.

"Let's see how you like that", he commented.

He then told them that today's match would be for half an hour each way and that the penalty for losing would be the same, except that it would be the senior cane this time.

Rachel and Kitty had come to a private agreement and had told both their teams to slow down the action. This should make it easier to prevent so many fouls. Each time they moved sharply, and particularly when they leapt up to score, the clamps pulled painfully at their nipples.

This time, there was an even bigger audience than on the day before, with much appreciative catcalling and whistling.

Eventually the game was over, and they were all nursing sore nipples as well as painfully striped bottoms. Then came the wait for the result. Amazingly, once again a draw!

"Oh well," said Peter, "Today the scoring is slightly different. The penalty strokes are for not winning and since we do not have a winner, that means both that teams are losers."

He brought the 'greens' out first and six strokes from the senior cane had them all crying and it was Rachel's turn to get twelve. Poor Girl!

Then it was the turn of the 'blues' and the twelve that Kitty got, on top of those she had already received that day, had her howling her head off.

Then it came to the end of the day and the general knowledge test and more strokes from the senior cane on already sore bottoms. At this point, Helen was very glad she had specified only two days for her fantasy.

But the schoolday was not yet over. Peter announced that there was a final 'award' for the class dunce over the two days. It was Kitty, surprise-surprise, and she was dragged out, already weeping from the result of her bad result in the final test, and was firmly strapped down over the whipping block.

Peter announced pompously, "In all my days as a schoolmaster, I have never known such a bad, unwilling-to-learn pupil as you and I am sorely tempted to give you twenty strokes with the punishment cane as an example. But, because I am a bit soft-hearted, I will only give you twelve with it."

The rest of the class were astonished. Twelve strokes from the severe punishment cane on top of what she had already had. Strapping her down on the block was going to be really necessary. The other guests had already decided to complain to the Management about this, not realising that this had been decreed by them.

Slowly Peter gave the punishment, spacing it out between the agonising shrieks from Kitty. The others watched horrified as Kitty began to bleed from the beating.

When it was over, Kitty was carried off to the infirmary by two nurses, who did not seem at all surprised to be called to do so.

Six girls went off to their dormitory for the rest of the night and Peter carried off Helen to their rooms, where he gently made love to her.

"Peter, did you really have to punish Kitty so terribly? I remember that she was a real bitch, when we knew her before, but that did seem a bit excessive to me."

"I know my dear, but I was asked to do it by the Management. We are meeting Carol tomorrow morning to hear more details about it from her."

The next day, Carol, Peter, and Helen were sitting on one of the sunny terraces drinking wine.

"Please explain. I felt I was overdoing it by more than a bit yesterday and I would like to know the background," asked Peter.

Carol said, "Of course. You are owed an explanation.

"You see after Kitty was dismissed as a Constabel in the town of Paradise for maltreating that young girl, she was punished and then made a probationary jailer at the penal part of the resort, which I assume you remember quite well," she added with a twinkle in her eye.

"It was thought that being an overseer there would be a suitable position for such a sadistic girl, provided she had learnt her lesson and could now follow orders."

They both nodded.

"You will also remember the occasion when Helen here thought she was going to have her nipples pierced against her expressed wish?"

They both nodded again.

"Your overseer acted correctly, stopped immediately, reassured you and calmed you down. Well, Kitty was taking someone through exactly the same scenario and the same thing happened, but Kitty didn't act correctly. The guest was becoming demented. Kitty actually took her into a room, which had the piercing equipment in it, although she should have taken her to the room you were led to, after calming her.

"We don't know even now know exactly what Kitty had in mind and if she intended actually to do the piercing against orders, but the guest went almost berserk when she saw the apparatus. Fortunately, a supervisor was watching on camera and she threw a switch which plunged the room into darkness, whilst two others rushed to the rescue.

"As a result, Kitty was sentenced to three months in the prison and demoted to the lowest grade of slave and will spend the rest of her time here scrubbing floors and doing similar menial jobs and anything unpleasant that is going. That is, of course, when she is not taking part as the 'fall guy' in scenarios similar to yours.

"She has also been sentenced to receive a sound thrashing at least once every five days, so, if you hadn't followed our request, she would have had a severe caning from one of us. I hope that makes you feel a bit better about it?"

"Yes thanks, but only a bit", said Peter.

"I did think I was overdoing it right at the end and I'll tell you one other thing, though. I don't want to do anything like it ever again. I prefer fantasies on a more everyday level, thanks."

"By the way," added Carol with a smile, "we have to thank you both for the great help you have given us with Joan. She is turning out to be a real submissive, isn't she, and she is also very grateful for your help and is beginning really to enjoy her holiday at last."

Helen now added her query.

"Carol. How come we all didn't end up laying in shit after drinking three large spoonfuls of castor oil?"

Carol grinned. "I've been expecting this question. Have you told Peter about it?"

"No, not yet. We've hardly had time."

"It is really a very simple explanation. You will agree that there are two unpleasant things about castor oil. There is that awful taste and sensation of it in your mouth and then its effects on your bowels. Well, we decided it would be great, sometimes, to be able to have the first effect, without the second.

So our scientists have invented a 'replica', which we call 'castar' oil, which tastes exactly like the real thing, but without the side effects. This means that we can give it, for example, when we do not have time in the scenario for the otherwise very necessary cleaning up.

This won't spoil it for when we give you your next dose, because you will not be able to tell which you have had. Castor or castar".

"Oh yes, but we will know after a short time and can relax from that point of view."

"Oh no you can't! You see we can mix the two in different proportions so that it has a delayed effect. The amusing thing is that only a small drop of the real thing is sufficient for a complete emptying of the bowels. It's just that the smaller the proportion the real oil is, the longer the delay, but then both act together as real castor oil. So, you have no consolation there. Sorry".

Carol laughed, showing that she was really not the slightest bit sorry at all.

Helen looked accusingly at Peter.

"Did you know about this when you gave it to us?"

"No. Really I didn't. Couldn't you tell it wasn't real castor oil, then?"

"No. As Carol says, it tastes exactly like the real thing. Vile! Yuck!"

At this remark, Carol was a bit concerned.

"If you hate the taste so much, why don't you put it on your 'barred' list together with nipple piercing and the other things?"

"Well, I loathe and detest the taste and having to drink the disgusting, repulsive stuff."

Then Helen added with a grin, "But I actually quite enjoy being forced to drink it. That's quite a different matter! That's similar to that nasty porridge type goo you feed us in some scenarios.

'Open wide, baby.' "That can be a lot of fun, when you're wearing a baby's bib and faced with that yucky stuff, although I imagine a lot of people wouldn't think so."

Peter then said, "I want to order several large jugs of both kinds of oil for delivery to our home."

"Agreed!" answered Carol. "That doesn't seem to bother you at all Helen?"

"Indeed no," she replied. "Ours is an 'equal opportunities' marriage, so he will swallow his share of it."

Carol then added, "And you can order anything you like, such as uniforms, restraints etc., before you leave. Also you can order anything by email, if you forget something, or need any future supplies of anything."

"Good," said Peter. "I want to order a matching school uniform for myself and also ones made of rubber for both of us."

"That order is also agreed."

In the evening, Joan came to join them in their meal.

Joan started by saying, "I want to apologise, Peter. I didn't intend to come tonight, because of the way you treated Kitty yesterday, but then Carol got me, Susan and Rachel together and explained what had happened and why, so here I am."

Peter said it was OK and added that he didn't intend to do anything like it ever again.

They were served the meal by their maid, Rita, as before. All three were wearing pretty flowered ruffled pinafores (with plastic see-thru cover-alls whilst they were at table), and Joan no longer found it odd to see Peter aproned, except when it was in some unusual and peculiar circumstance.

Rita also didn't find it at all 'funny' to see her temporary mistress and her guest in aprons and not even the 'master'. She had been holidaying as a maid on the Island now for some years and was in her late thirties and during that time she had seen practically everything that the most devious of minds could conceive of and that the guests could ask for.

Peter asked Joan, "Is it true that you have a degree in mathematics?"

"Oh yes," I thought you knew that, but I must have missed telling you both about it".

Peter then added, "That's OK, because we haven't told you that Helen has one too. Hers, in fact, is a First-class Honours from Oxford University."

Here Joan was puzzled. She turned to Helen and said.

"So how was it that you didn't also get all those easy sums right?"

Helen smiled at this naïve question. "If you remember it was MY designer fantasy and I could do what I liked in it. The fantasy was not 'to be at school', but to punished as a naughty schoolgirl. Where was the fun in getting them all correct and then watching Peter cane, or strap, the rest of you? I could see that sort of thing on a video.

"Also, you remember the first time you saw Peter in one of his fantasies? He dropped his apron and 'forgot' to curtsey, which earned him the strap. Now that you know him better and know about our previous experience here, do you really think he could have forgotten? It was his way of asking to be beaten in front of you."

Joan said ruefully, "I still have a lot to learn about fantasies, don't I?"

"Actually", said Helen, " We were remarking earlier at just how fast you were coming on and learning. By the way, what are you doing next, after today's rest?"

"I'm going to spend two days as a baby, as your description of your time as one sounds attractive."

(At this description of that time, Helen and Peter exchanged looks).

"Then I will be a six-year old Edwardian girl with a strict Nanny the next day and a twelve-year old under a very severe governess on the fourth day".

She added after a pause, "I have asked for the governess to use one of those Victorian canes you told me about."

"Wow," said Peter, "I hope you are still talking to us afterwards".

"Oh, I expect so. Then, after that, I am going to have some serious maid training." What are you two doing then?"

"Ponies and traps," said Peter.

Helen explained, "We will be ponies for two days, drivers for the next one, and then half a day each driving the other. Have we told you about the facilities we have at home for human ponies?"

Joan shook her head.

"Well," said Helen, "It is getting late and we all have early starts tomorrow, so we shall have to tell you about that another time. There is now an incentive for you to want to talk to us after experiencing the Victorian cane. Have a happy Baby Time!

"Incidentally, just one other thing. You do realise, don't you, that 'maid training' is not, as some people think, a matter of standing about in a fancy uniform serving tea, but involves a lot of scrubbing, polishing, cleaning and washing dirty dishes etc. Not to mention getting the cane for doing any of those things slowly or badly?"

"Oh yes," said Joan, "Carol has warned me about that."

"That's OK then. Well 'Good Night' and we'll see you a bit later on to compare notes."

 

 

 

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© 2001 by Rob Willson. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.