From the Top Shelf - The Schoolmaster's Wife, part 2

Last week we began the first of three installments of a short story taken from Janus magazine, by the prolific R.T Mason. Priscilla Browne, the wife of a young teacher, has found herself in a very unusual boys' school. Much to her dismay, she has learned that the headmaster canes schoolmasters' wives as well as naughty boys. In fact, he delights in it! You may want to reread part 1 to refresh your memory.

Once again, I must warn my readers that this is a decidedly sexist story, and oh so NOT politically correct. It was written many years ago and does not reflect my personal opinions. Read it at your own risk.

So now you know it all, thought Priscilla. Bottom pinching in the chapel, the Head canes you, and on top of that you have to let young boys spank your bare bum! Quite, quite inconceivable!

She went back to her own sitting room, her mind bemused by the morning's revelations. She still hadn't formally met the members of her House - that little treat was scheduled for this afternoon. And what would happen then? Could she possibly cope after what she knew now?

Derek came in ten minutes later, his first classes at Kingswood over. He seemed quite pleased and said it hadn't gone too badly. "And how about you, darling?" he asked, kissing her, "Are you getting your bearings?"

She managed to force a smile. "Er...yes, slowly," she said, and left it at that. As he settled down with his newspaper she unhappily reviewed her problems. There was presumably nothing she could do about getting her bottom pinched in Chapel; clearly you either stood still and let it happen or made a scene. And what would that do for Derek's prospects? Quite simply she wasn't prepared to make a scene. And the Head? Well, she could only wait and see about him. But the boys in the House? Surely she didn't have to suffer the humiliation of pandering to their every whim?

The Head introduced Derek and Priscilla to the members of Delany House right after lunch. Forty boys ranging through to 18 plus. Derek made a little speech after Dr. Stirling, then Priscilla stood up, smiling, to let them see her. Smiling outwardly but cringing inside as she thought of what Angela had said. 'Get the Head Boy and the prefects on your side'. Then it was plain sailing. But to do that...!

The real shock came right after the House meeting. Derek had to go and take a class and Priscilla was to serve tea to those very same dreaded Head Boy and his prefects in their living room. Five strapping youths, all of them just a few years younger than Priscilla's 22 years...and what had Angela said? All dreaming about stripping you naked and giving you a good shagging. Priscilla blushed hotly and gritted her teeth.

In her sitting room the Head Boy, Robert Maidment, tall and dark, said, "We're really pleased to see you here, Mrs. Browne. And clearly Delany House is now going to have the prettiest wife in the school."

As Priscilla blushed slightly one of the others added, "And the one with the best figure too!"

The others enthusiastically nodded and voiced agreement, their eyes running all over her body. 'Christ!' thought Priscilla, becoming nervous. She quickly excused herself to go into the kitchen and make the tea. But they all immediately followed, crowding around her. A hand slid over her bottom cheeks.

She tried to move but they were all swarming round. "Look," she said imploringly, "Please...."

Robert Maidment said, "A Housemaster's wife is always very friendly to the prefects, Mrs. Browne. That way we all co-operate to keep the other little tykes in order."

"Yes, miss, very nice and friendly," said a thick set youth she could only remember as Desmond something. "And by the way, Mrs. Browne, you really do have a gorgeous pair of tits."

And then, before Priscilla knew what was happening they had all moved in on her; all five at once grabbing and groping. She felt like the ball in the middle of a rugby maul. One boy was trying to unfasten her dress, another had his hand up her skirt and was twiddling with a suspender, three or four hands were trying to squeeze her breasts at the same time.

Priscilla did the only thing possible, she let out an ear piercing scream. One could imagine the sound echoing across the whole of the school and it did have some effect. They let go of her.

Straightening her dress and with tears in her eyes, she gasped, "You boys should all be ashamed of yourselves. You're acting like wild animals. I've a good mind to tell my husband!"

Robert Maidment, his face a bit red, said, "Now that wouldn't be a good idea, miss. We didn't mean to rough you up. It was just spontaneous and we got a bit carried away. But the fact is that in this school, the Housemaster's wife is always nice to the senior boys. That's just the way things work here."

"What does 'being nice' mean, exactly?" asked Priscilla, still flushed from her struggles.

"It means let's see what you've got under that dress, for a start," said one of the other boys with a leer. "We're starved for a sight of soft rounded female flesh!"

Desmond added. "And Mrs. Bowen lets us spank her bottom too." As Priscilla reddened, he added casually, "Her bare bottom, naturally."

She spat back angrily, "Well I'm not doing any of those things, they're disgusting and degrading. I'd advise you to forget this conversation."

She gave them tea and cakes with the thought that maybe her strong stance just might have got through to their better natures but she could tell from their general demeanour that it was a forlorn hope.

An hour after they had left, sullenly, there was a knock on her door. It was the Head Boy again. He told her that the junior members of the House were likely to be very boisterous that evening and there wasn't a lot the prefects would be able to do about it. Priscilla turned slightly pale. This was blackmail. She tried to argue the issue but he nodded politely and walked away.

That night there was a minor riot in Delany House, boys shouting and screaming, rampaging about all evening, and the racket continued after Lights Out. Derek, white-faced, did his best to produce some semblance of order; but as soon as he'd got one dormitory quiet, a riotous noise would erupt from another. His repeated queries of the Senior boys as to why they were doing nothing to help quell the disturbance finally drew a comment from one prefect:

"If your wife was more pleasant to us, Sir, we'd be more inclined to get involved."

Things finally quietened down when the Head came over, breathing fire and thunder. He said he would see Derek and Priscilla about these shameful goings-on in his study in the morning...separately.

"Whatever is all this about?" asked a bewildered Derek Browne when he and his wife were finally alone in their sitting room at about 12.30 am.

"The senior boys want me to undress for them, that's all!" said a tight-lipped Priscilla, "and that's just the start. Of course I said I wouldn't."

"Whaaaaaattt?"

"You heard. It's the done thing here, didn't you know? A Housemaster's wife is supposed to be nice to the senior boys. Yes, that sort of nice! Susan Rogers lets her senior boys screw her!"

Derek gasped in horror. "Jesus, they haven't asked you for that, I hope!"

Priscilla said, her voice tense, "No - not yet! Though I expect they'd all like to."

In the morning, with an air of ominous calm about Delany House, came the reckoning. Derek was to go and see Dr. Stirling at 9.30 am, Priscilla at 10. Before these dread appointments, though, there was Chapel. In which Priscilla, this morning in a pink-flowered blouse and blue skirt, suffered the same treatment as the day before. Standing at the backless bench with the other wives, her bottom was openly felt up when the boys filed in and again when they went out. It was hateful but today she had more worrying things on her mind - that 10am appointment.

In the Head's study Derek found himself well and truly 'on the carpet' as Dr. Stirling told him, in icy tones, he expected much better from his Housemasters. It had been an utterly weak and disgraceful performance. But Derek could hardly blurt out what Priscilla had told him as, in any case, it would make him look extremely foolish.

"It won't happen again, Headmaster," he said, hoping he sounded confident and sure of himself.

"It had better not!" replied the Head grimly, "or you may find this tenure to be of short duration. You haven't made a very good start!"

He was still looking grim when Priscilla knocked and entered, though now the grimness was tempered with a feeling of pleasurable anticipation.

"Do you have any word of explanation for last night's disgraceful business?" he sternly addressed the unhappy-looking Priscilla.

She shook her head miserably. Well, what could she say? It was probable Dr. Stirling already had some idea why. "When there is disruption in a House, Mrs. Browne, I always attribute a lot of responsibility to the Housemaster's wife. She has to learn to get along with the boys in her care. You are going to learn that...and quickly I hope!"

Priscilla bit her lip. "Y...yes, Dr. Stirling," she muttered miserably.

"Yes indeed, Mrs Browne. And what did I tell you about what happens to the young wives here when they fail the trust placed in them? I give them the cane, Mrs.Browne. Will you therefore kindly pull down your knickers and then bend right across my desk!"

He went to the door and locked it - while Priscilla stood rooted to the floor with shock, her heart thumping. "Look...Dr. Stirling...you can't mean that...I'm not a pupil, I'm a grown woman!"

"Undoubtedly you are, Mrs. Browne. Undoubtedly fully-grown and especially so in all the best parts. And it is one of those best parts which is now going to feel the sting of my cane. And why on earth shouldn't a fully grown woman be caned, eh? So get those knickers down, please! At ONCE!"

What could she do? It seemed that all the others got it. And...at least it was private. Just her and Dr. Stirling. And no one else had to know. She finally, hesitantly, raised her hands and slid them up under her skirt. Looking fixedly at the carpet she slid her knickers down to the tops of her nylons.

"Over the desk!" instructed Dr. Sterling. Papers, inkstand etc had all been thoughtfully cleared to one side.

"Good!" he said. He pulled up her full blue skirt and there indeed were a pair of brief pink nylon knickers at the tops of Priscilla's dark nylons. And then the full pale upper thighs and, above them, a splendid bare bottom; two ripely rounded globes of creamy female flesh.

Dr. Stirling gave this splendid bared bottom a preliminary appreciative smack. There was a satisfying sound of flesh meeting flesh. The bottom wobbled delightfully at the contact. Priscilla, her face in close proximity to the polished desk-top emitted a sharp gasp. This whole business was simply mortifying!

And then after a slight pause; CRACK! An unbelievable pain in her defenceless rear as the cane swished vigorously down. She let out an agonised yelp. Her bottom went into a desperate flesh-wobbling dance.

Then CRACK! A second vigorous stroke across the full meat of that so appetising backside, very close to the line of the first. A second desperate yelp, the bottom's frantic dance re-intensified, and CRACK! a third, then CRACK! a fourth. At which point Priscilla sagged somewhat at the knees and Dr. Stirling had to haul her back into position, her juicy bottom now with its four distinct red stripes.

"No!" she cried. "No more please!"

But there were naturally two more to come. Because, as in all good schools, six of the best was the norm. And at Kingswood School that naturally applied to pretty young wives as well.

When he had finished he dropped the cane and ran his hand approvingly over Priscilla's smarting backside.

"There now, Mrs. Browne, I found that most enjoyable. But for the sake of your husband's career, not to mention your own bottom, I hope you quickly get matters sorted out over in Delany House."

Her hand went up to wipe away the tears.

Ouch! I wouldn't like to be in Priscilla's position. Now what will she do about the boys?