From the Top Shelf - She Can't Get Enough, part 2

Last week, in an anonymously written story from the 50s, we met the new House master and read about his introduction to disciplining naughty schoolgirls. Today we'll find that he has been kept very busy with his new duties.

In the next few weeks, I found I had a bottom or two to cane almost every night. Sometimes there were three or four girls baring their bottoms and bending over to receive punishment, the number of strokes varying according to the offence.

The girls were quite well behaved and made little or no difficulty when they were asked to prepare themselves for punishment and bend over; some even took down their knickers and bent over straight away without waiting to be told and, with only a very few exceptions, I rarely asked a girl to take down her knickers. Usually, they wore such flimsy nylon panties or briefs that I could see right through them, and they were so tightly swathed around the hips that they did not impede the cane.

A fine well-developed eighteen year old named Patricia one day bent over the chair and presented a round, plump bottom in navy blue bloomers.

The first stroke I gave her made a loud noise but she didn't even flinch. I tried another stroke and saw that it made no impression on her whatsoever.

"I'm afraid I must ask you to take your knickers down," I said quietly.

Blushing, she straightened and silently drew down three pairs! So, her bottom now quite bare, I made her bend over again to receive four extra hard strokes plus another two for trying to cheat.

It was a lovely, fleshy bottom and the cane whipped into it with a satisfying thwack!. She heartily regretted wearing the three thick pairs of knickers when she straightened up, misty-eyed, for I made her replace all three pairs over the six livid weals I had produced, magnifying the burning pain and heat.

Pamela came to see me for the cane fairly regularly. On the fifth or sixth occasion, she handed me her note and I glanced at it quickly to see she had been ordered six strokes and, something rather unusual, there was the stipulation that it should be given on the bared buttocks.

I fetched the cane while Pamela removed her dressing gown. She wore just bra and panties this time; tight brief things that hugged her hips and lushly curved breasts like a second skin.

She struggled with the panties and let them hang about her knees as she bent right over to touch her toes, offering me her beautiful taut buttocks.

I gave her six strokes, and when it was over she remained in the bent position, as though she were expecting more. Of course I did not add to the punishment, but I watched as the six parallel lines became more red and sharply etched on the rounded flesh. I told her to get up and she did so, smiling faintly, as she fingered her weals.

I signed the note and noticed that it did not bear the initials of the prefect, although the writing was similar and on the usual paper.

I handed the note to Pamela, who only then began to pull up her panties.

"B.D. hasn't initialled it, I see."

"No, Sir". She picked up her dressing gown.

Something in her tone and the way she kept her head down made me take the note back and examine it more closely. There was a lack of the familiar flourish of B.D.' s writing - it was all a little too regular and precise.

Pamela seemed to know what I was thinking and blushed prettily.

"Would you care to tell me who did write this note, Pamela?" I asked quietly.

"I did, Sir," she whispered after a long pause, "I know it was naughty, but it wasn't really a forgery because I didn't sign it."

"Very well, I'm not accusing you of forgery, but I would like a little clarity on this. Did somebody tell you to write this note or..."

"No, Sir - I did it myself."

"But why, girl?"

Pamela blushed even more deeply. "Please, Sir - don't ask me that. I don't really know why. I just - I just - felt the need for it."

"Have you ever done this before?"

"Yes, Sir - the time before last I wrote my own punishment note. You didn't notice it then."

"Do you enjoy being caned, Pamela?"

She was red faced with embarrassment and stared at the floor. "Yes, Sir... in a way. Not actually while I'm getting it but afterwards - in bed - I like the feeling of my warm behind. And..." she hesitated, blushing fiercely, "it's rather exciting when I have to take my knickers down in front of you to get it on the bare."

"And have you had all you need tonight?" I asked her with a grin.

"Er... yes thank you Sir"

"You don't sound very certain."

"Well, Sir, you could have caned me a bit harder. You are too kind to us, really. Mr. Collins was far more harsh with us; he made us scream with pain sometimes and some of the girls used to cry under the blankets for hours afterwards; marks that used to last two or three weeks. But you are much too nice; some of the girls joke about it."

She stroked her still nude bottom and looked over her shoulder, trying to see it, tracing the weals with her fingertips.

"Well," I said, still getting my breath back after such revelations,"Thank you for the interesting little chat. A House master is supposed to understand the needs of his charges and help them, so don't be afraid of coming back to me with any of your needs, Pamela, even if yours are a little unusual."

"Thank you, Sir." She stood before me a little while longer, her delightful young breasts held snugly by her bra, her panties still nestled below her hips giving me a shameless and unabashed view of her smooth flat tummy and, below, the fair silky pubic hair. She knew where I was looking and slowly smoothed her widish hips and said "Have I been punished to your full satisfaction, Sir?" a roguish smile playing on her lips.

I walked round and looked at the six red stripes on the lower part of her round, firm bottom and smiled back.

"I think, young lady, it would be more to the point if we agreed it was to your satisfaction!"

I have the feeling that he will continue to be overworked this term.