Oh, just a quick reminder. Voting is still open for April's SotM. I've only had one nomination so far and you don't want Aunty to be upset, do you?
Courtesy of JPC, the prefects compare 'handiwork'
Phoebe and Annabelle came into the room after dinner, joking and clowning around and found Gail hard at work. “It’s the first day!” Annabelle exclaimed. “You do know they don’t expect it to be done tomorrow?”
Gail sighed, and ran a hand through her hair. “This isn’t what we got in class. I never had a chance to study the school’s handbook before I went on leave and came here. Miss Hardacre is going to give me a test on it tomorrow and she’s promised unpleasant consequences if I’m not word perfect.”
Phoebe rolled her eyes and sighed, then rubbed the seat of her dress. “She’s right, Belle. That caning this morning bloody hurt.”
Annabelle laughed and planted a firm smack on the younger girl’s pert rear end.
“Ow!” Phoebe yelped and said. “Right brat! You asked for it!”
The two girls raced around the room, squealing and laughing. Gail sat back and watched them with a big smile on her face. Phoebe picked up a pillow and Annabelle did the same, soon the two of them were going at it hammer and tongs in a pillow fight. One of the pillows burst at the rough treatment and all three girls burst into delighted laughter as they were showered with a rain of soft downy feathers. The laughter died on their lips as the door flew open and a furious Emily Masters was framed in it, slipper in hand.
“What exactly do you call this?” she barked.
“It’s a pillow fight!” Phoebe smirked, and then at the last minute remembered to add. “Ma’am.”
“Think it’s amusing to damage school property, do you, Smythe-Jones?” Emily demanded, the slipper in her hand twitching dangerously.
“Em’,” Annabelle answered, then seeing the look in her sister’s eye amended it to. “Ma’am. It was just a bit of fun. That was one of your arguments to Daddy when you forced him into sending me her…” the protest trailed off as Emily’s lips compressed into a tight thin line.
“Clean it up, now!” she ordered. “You too Hetherington!”
Gail frowned and Annabelle spoke up again, “Gail wasn’t part of it, she was studying. It was all Feebs and me.”
“That’s Phoebe and I, Masters,” Emily corrected her sister sternly. “Hetherington, you go and fetch a new pillow from the laundry. If you’re lucky one of the girls assigned there may still be in attendance. Otherwise you’ll have to get the key from the housekeeper, and she is not going to be happy about it.”
Gail gulped and fled the room.
The blonde executive returned with a new pillow provided by a raven haired girl by the name of Yvonne, who had been given sheet folding duty as a punishment for some misdeed or other. Yvonne had been very amused when told why Gail wanted a new pillow, although she said that Annabelle and Phoebe were more than likely going to get well scorched rears for the act.
Phoebe and Annabelle stood in the middle of the room, eyes at their feet as Emily was in the middle of a blistering scolding. The two girls had collected the feathers and put them in the remains of the burst pillowcase.
“Thank you, Hetherington,” Emily said as Gail entered, new pillow in hand. “Place it on one of the beds. All three of you into pj’s.”
Phoebe frowned. “It’s not bedtime.”
“You’re determined to make this hard on yourself, aren’t you, Smythe-Jones?” Emily sighed. “I am Head Girl,” Gail could hear her capitalizing the title. “You do what I say when I say it, do you understand?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Phoebe ground out from between gritted teeth and then cheekily added. “It’s still not bedtime.”
“Right!” Emily took a firm grip of Phoebe’s ear between her thumb and forefinger, ignored the girl’s squeal and hauled her out of the room and down the hall to the bathroom. Eyes wide, Annabelle and Gail followed.
Emily stopped at a washbasin and took a fresh bar of soap from a cupboard above the basin. “Unwrap it,” she ordered Phoebe.
Starting to cry, the girl did as she was told.
Annabelle’s face twisted, she knew what was coming. Emily had done it to her last year when she was a prefect, not head girl. It wasn’t nice.
“In the mouth, don’t bite down too hard,” Emily instructed once the soap had been unwrapped.
Phoebe stared at the head girl. She couldn’t possibly be serious. Emily’s face did not soften. “If I have to fetch a teacher I will, young lady,” she told Phoebe. “They won’t be happy at being disturbed and they’ll probably bring a tawse with them.”
Annabelle winced, she had been tawsed the previous year, too. “Just do it, Feebs,” she urged. “It doesn’t taste nice, but it’s better than being tawsed.”
“That’s good advice Annabelle is giving you. I’d take it if I were you, Smythe-Jones.”
Fat tears trickling down her pretty face, Phoebe inserted the soap in her mouth and gently closed her mouth over the bar, half of it protruded from her mouth. They had gathered a crowd of curious onlookers and judging by the sour expressions some of them now had, not everyone there was a stranger to the old practice of mouth soaping.
“Bend over, touch your toes!” Emily ordered, her hand curling around the long handle of a broad backed wooden bath brush.
Phoebe bent from the waist and neatly touched her toes. Gail was impressed. She had kept herself fit, but not every girl at the school had and Phoebe was obviously quite flexible.
“Keep the soap in place,” Emily said, raising the back of Phoebe’s dress and tugging her panties down to expose her bottom. The cane marks were now clearly visible. “Someone was a naughty girl,” Emily gloated, lifting the brush.
The brush zipped through the air and connected firmly with the blonde girl’s cane welted backside. Phoebe winced and closed her eyes. Gail thought she saw her teeth bite into the soap, but she held position. Emily did not say anything, but applied a second stroke, the white area of Phoebe’s pert rump was now filling in with a vibrant pink around the dark bruises the cane had left on it.
“This is what happens to naughty little girls who damage school property and then cheek those who take them to task for it!” Emily scolded as she continued to lambast Phoebe’s writhing rear with the brushes broad, hard back.
Gail could see that Emily’s cheeks were flushed and her eyes shone. The bitch was getting off on this! The punishment may have continued indefinitely, because Emily showed no sign of stopping and Phoebe seemed equally determined not to break in front of her, if Marie had not stepped in.
The maternal looking prefect made her way to the front of the crowd, gently laid a hand on Emily’s shoulder and said softly, “I think she’s had enough, Em’.”
The head girl turned to Marie, eyes blazing and had something to say on her lips, but looked into the older lady’s normally kindly brown eyes and saw a fire in them that made her pause. She lowered the brush and nodded. “Stand up Smythe-Jones. Take the soap out of your mouth and go back to your room with Masters and Hetherington. I am far from done with you three.”
Marie helped Phoebe stand up and removed the soap. The girl’s teeth marks could be clearly seen in the whiteness of the bar. Marie spoke to her softly, and rubbed her back in circles. She even risked Emily’s wrath by giving Phoebe a glass of water so she could rinse the taste of soap out of her mouth. Emily was busy haranguing her sister and Gail, so did not see Marie’s kindness to the just thrashed Phoebe.
The other prefects chivvied the onlookers back to their rooms, telling them that the show was over and they’d do as they were told unless they wanted to be the stars of the next performance.
Marie watched frowning, as Emily herded Gail, Annabelle and Phoebe back to their room with cross words and slaps to their bottoms.
“I want all three of you in night things and facing me,” Emily said, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at them.
Gail wanted to argue, but she also didn’t want a spanking and she knew that was what she was risking and possibly another mouth washing, if she did. Instead she gave Emily a look of annoyance before getting into her nightdress. Phoebe was still sniffling and made noises of discomfort as items of clothing contacted the abused flesh of her buttocks.
“What is that, Masters?” Emily thundered at her younger sister.
“It’s a nightdress,” Annabelle answered uncertainly.
The girl was dressed in a barely there affair of black and scarlet lace that left little to the imagination.
“It is not!” Emily insisted through tightly pursed lips. “It is a teddy! That is not appropriate for Wellborne and you know it! Weren’t you over the head girl’s knee last year for something similar?”
“Ummm…yes,” Annabelle admitted, looking at the floor, her flaming cheeks matching the crimson areas of her sexy nightwear.
Emily pulled a chair out from the desk and sat on it. “Over my knee,” she ordered her younger sister, patting her lap. She addressed a shocked Gail and still weeping Phoebe. “I want you two to watch this as a lesson if you’re ever tempted to do something similar.”
Annabelle looked at her sister’s stern lap and sighed, draping herself over the firm thighs. She did it so naturally that Gail was certain it was not the first time Emily had spanked her younger sibling. She wondered how long that had been going on. Judging from the roles the two ladies played probably since early childhood.
Emily wasted no time in rearranging Annabelle’s scandalous lingerie to her satisfaction so that she had a mostly bare bottom and exposed thighs to aim at.
“I cannot believe,” she said, spanking furiously as the younger girl, squirmed and squealed under the onslaught. “That you did this again after being spanked for it last year. Do you not learn, girl?”
“Ow! Ow! I don’t have anything else, Emmy!” the hapless Annabelle wailed, kicking her legs.
“It is ma’am!” Emily informed her sister as her palm attacked the sit spots making Annabelle roar. “I’ll be taking you into the village tomorrow for some proper night things. Any classes you miss you will make up in detention.”
Tears ran down Annabelle’s face as Emily brought her hand spanking to a blazing crescendo. The strawberry blonde was quite fair and her plump white bottom had coloured up very vividly and quickly. She hopped off Emily’s lap and did the spanked bottom dance, rubbing her bottom vigorously. Emily shook her head, “You’re such a baby, Belle,” she said almost fondly. “Get against the wall and stop rubbing. We’re not finished yet.”
We’re not? Gail thought. Phoebe has been bahtbrushed and Annabelle spanked. I wasn’t involved, how can we not be done?
“There is still the matter of the pillow fight to deal with,” Emily began, pacing across in front of the three women lined up against the wall.
“Miss. Ma’am!” Gail said, waving her hand in the air.
“Yes, what, Hetherington?” Emily snapped.
“I wasn’t part of the pillow fight, miss.”
Phoebe stopped crying long enough to back her roommate. “No, she wasn’t ma’am.”
“If I want your input Smythe-Jones I will ask for it,” Emily told the small blonde. “So you weren’t in the room, Hetherington?”
“Well, yes I was, but…” Gail tried to answer.
“Did you tell the other two to stop it? Try to get a prefect? We do patrol the halls after supper.”
“Ummm…no, I didn’t…” Gail faltered.
“Right,” Emily decided. “You’re as guilty as they are.” She produced a slipper from a pocket in her dress, flexed it meaningfully and commanded, “Face the wall, hands on the wall, legs straight, bottoms out!”
Gail shuddered and tried to will herself not to jump as she heard the supple leather sole of Emily’s slipper crack loudly across first Phoebe’s bottom and then Annabelle’s and the girls answering squeals. Gail bit her lip and suddenly felt like she was about to wet herself. Corporal punishment had all but been outlawed at her school. Even the smacks she got from the sports mistress had been light and a warning to get her head into the class and out of the clouds where it had been at the time. Some girls said that the matron had smacked them with a slipper, but Gail didn’t think their kindly, maternal school matron even had a slipper let alone hit someone with it. The rumours about the cane in the headmistress’ office were just that, rumours. Her mother had told stories about being slippered at school and it did not sound like a fun experience. It was also occasionally mentioned in some of the girls own books set in boarding schools that she read. To be honest Gail had occasionally wondered what it was like and even fantasised about being slippered by the head girl when she was in ninth grade, but that had just been a girlish crush and went unfulfilled.
The feel of cool night air through the open window on her bottom as Emily lifted Gail’s nightdress out of the way made Gail shiver a little. “Cool are we?” Emily sneered. “We’ll soon warm you up my girl!”
The slipper exploded across Gail’s bottom and she howled.
A flash of burning pain seared across the other cheek and Gail roared and shimmied her legs. While she was still recovering from that Emily was already walloping Phoebe and Annabelle again. All three girls received twelve strokes each. Emily swept out of the room, saying, “In bed! I do not want to hear another peep out of any of you and if I do I’ll be back with Matron’s paddle!”
The three women removed their hands from the wall stood up and began to rub their aching posteriors. They examined the damage and cooed over the state of each other’s rear ends. Phoebe, having endured the caning in the morning and then Emily’s frenzied bathbrushing, was the most marked up of the three. Gail, who was only slippered, faded fairly quickly, but the fair Annabelle would have a rosy glow for some time.
“Bitch!” Phoebe sobbed as Annabelle searched her wardrobe for a jar of cold cream.
The redhead with the strawberry red bottom turned shocked eyes on her friend.
“She is ‘Belle!” Phoebe insisted.
Gail nodded. “I watched her when she was belting Phoebe, she enjoyed it.”
“Yeah,” the other girl sighed and said to Phoebe. “Lay on the bed and I’ll put some of this on your bot, it should cool it down a bit.”
As Phoebe stretched out face down on the bed the door opened and the shocked women looked up, hoping they weren’t going to see an angry Emily with matron’s paddle dangling from her hand. They were met by Marie’s kindly face.
The sighs were audible.
Marie smiled. “Emily’s gone to have a cup of tea, but she is on the warpath, so if I were you three I’d get into bed quick smart.”
“I’m really busting for the loo, miss,” Gail said.
Marie laughed, “Okay, Hetherington. I’ll take you, that should protect you from Emily’s wrath, but into bed straight after, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Gail promised as she followed Marie’s broad back down the hall to the bathroom.
A teddy very like the one that got poor Annabelle into such trouble.