Still Waters

From Blushes 13. Following on from The Price! This is the final part of the Mr Bartlow trilogy.

‘What d’you think?’ asked Alison.

It was morning break the day after Alison had climbed into Penny’s bed and while intimately stroking the latter had whisperingly suggested that they set up Mandy with Mr Bartlow. It was this that was being discussed as the two of them sat in a secluded corner of the school grounds. Penny shivered, thinking of last night, thinking also of her own earlier experiences at the hands of Mr Bartlow. ‘I… I don’t know,’ she said hesitantly.

‘She deserves something,’ stated Alison. ‘The pig. She’s always making some snide remark.’

The snide remarks, though, seemed largely true, especially those relating to Mr Bartlow. But Mandy had been pretty insensitive about Penny’s problems with Miss Kingston.

‘We wouldn’t want to get into trouble.’ Penny tended to be of a cautious nature. ‘And also, well I don’t want to, you know, get involved too much with Mr Bartlow.’

Alison gave a coarse laugh. ‘Come on! I bet you loved what he did. Cripes! Stripping you starkers like that and then spreading you out on your back on his blanket and bringing you off. Oh boy!’

‘Shut up,’ hissed Penny, red in the face. ‘And anyway what did he do to you? I didn’t enjoy it. And don’t you dare mention it to anyone. I told you in strict confidence.’

‘Don’t worry, I won’t. But you must have liked it, otherwise you wouldn’t have come and you said you did.’

It might seem difficult to argue with this logic but Penny did her best. ‘I didn’t like it. It was just my… my hormones reacting. You can’t do anything about that, you know.’

Clearly this argument was not going anywhere. ‘Oh forget it,’ said Alison. ‘Let’s concentrate on Mandy. Actually I’ve got an idea. What if old Barters caught her coming back in late without a pass? He could threaten her with old Pinkers unless, you know, she was nice. Yes, that’s it.’ Alison’s eyes were shining. ‘To put her really in it Barters could find some, you know, rubbers in her pocket!’

Penny blinked at the enormity of this; how could Alison even think of such a horrendous thing? In any case wherever did you get such items?

On reflection Alison agreed that perhaps the rubbers idea was just a little over the top. ‘OK, that was just a detail anyway. But the general idea is great. What we can do is fix her up with that boy she fancies in Allenhams.’

Allenhams was a stationers in the nearby town of Hurstley — the very same town where a little earlier Alison had been bought an ice-cream and had her morals tested. Mandy had never actually been out with this boy but she undoubtedly would go wild at the idea of a date. ‘You do that part and I’ll arrange it with Barters. Unless you want to do it the other way round.’

Penny flushed, thought a bit and then said a reluctant OK. She wasn’t all that keen to do this to Mandy but it was true she had been beastly.

----//----

George Bartlow had his usual owlish look when he opened his door to Alison at 4.30 after classes. If it was one of the mistresses he’d have to be ready with a reason why he couldn’t do whatever it was she wanted, but naturally his face brightened considerably on seeing Alison. She was welcomed in, his hand automatically going behind her and below the blazer to the slim but choice flanks contained in the St Helena’s summer issue school frock.

Alison gave a little squeal and wriggled her bottom. ‘Hey, I didn’t come to get felt up.’ But actually a male hand on your bottom was not unpleasant and sent a nice tingly glow through you. Alison had seen a certain amount of Mr Bartlow since that business of the ice-cream but hadn’t allowed him any repeat of what he had done then. Mr Bartlow clearly would have liked a repeat but a girl didn’t want to be doing it all the time, did she?

Mr Bartlow made some tea and then Alison agreed to sit on his lap to discuss what she had to discuss. George Bartlow’s eyes gleamed as the tale was unfolded and not just because his hand was playing with the pert apples in the front of Alison’s frock. That Mandy Whittingham was a cute little piece all right, a brunette with nice bum and tits, but at the same time much too haughty and self-assured, a girl not likely in the normal course of events to fall for George’s ploys. He had once essayed a brief feel at her bottom when she had been detailed to help him shift some hockey gear and had got the sharp rejoinder, ‘If you try that once more, Mr Bartlow, I shall go straight to Mr Pinkerton.’

And here was a plan to deliver this attractive but arrogant young lady right into his hands.

‘She won’t dare go to Mr Pinkerton because she’d get booted out. Old Pinkers is very hot on gallivanting out with boys. So you’d really have her, Mr Bartlow. You could cane her!’

George felt a hot glow of excitement. He shifted Alison’s very pleasant weight slightly as she was crushing what had now become considerably enlarged. The cane on that pretty young Miss would be heavenly. It was some time since George had caned a girl. Yes the thought of the cane was really first rate. At the same time, though, it didn’t do to appear too bowled over by what was being offered. George managed to sound almost reluctant.

‘Yes, well, young Alison. I daresay I could fall in with this little plan. But if I was obliging you I should want something in return. Some little token of gratitude.

‘Oh yes. What?’

‘You know.’

Alison could guess. ‘Look: I don’t want to be doing that all the time.’ George pointed out that it wasn’t all the time, he had only done it once.

Alison considered it; considered also the hand that was now up her summer frock doing rather interesting things. ‘Well perhaps. Actually Mr Bartlow if I did, well, I’m getting a bit hard up again at the moment. For one thing the Tuck Shop’s put up the price of their buns and I need something to keep my strength up. So if I did, Mr Bartlow…’

George raised his eyebrows. At 16 wanting to get paid for it! ‘But this other thing, Mr Bartlow. Mandy. It’s on then?’

George didn’t answer but pushed Alison off his lap and got up to go and lock the door. He came back with a purposeful gleam in his eye. ’No!’ breathed Alison. ‘You can’t! Not here… Not now…’ But it seemed that Mr Bartlow had other ideas.

‘Don’t, you’ll rip them… Ooh! Aaooh! Look… we haven’t even discussed what… you’re going to give me…’

George, breathless, on the on top of Alison, growled, ‘I’ll show you… what I’m going to… give you… young lady.’

‘Oh! Ooohh! Cripes… Jesus… That hurts… Ooh! Ooooh! Look… You’d better… be using something…’

----//----

Penny’s part in the plot naturally didn’t call for anything of that sort but it was traumatic, nonetheless, going in and chatting up a boy you didn’t really know. At first the boy, whose name it appeared was Dave, thought Penny was doing the chatting up on her own behalf, perhaps a natural mistake. Penny did fancy him a bit. Boys anyway were rare and this one wasn’t bad looking and the right age, about 18. But she had to stick to the plan and tell him it was her friend. ‘You know, you’ve seen her. Quite tall with bangs. Brunette, well chestnut really. She’s pretty.’

Dave said he did know and seemed suitably flattered to find himself the object of this young lady’s interest. ‘It would have to be the evening,’ Penny told him. ‘That’s the only time she can get out.’ In fact that was the only time Mandy couldn’t get out, legally at least. Mr Pinkerton wouldn’t give a pass in the evening unless it was very important and you had proof. Of course if you were brave enough or keen enough you could go out anyway.

‘Did it go OK?’ asked Alison that evening before prep.

‘Yes, he seemed quite keen. We agreed on Friday night. He’s nice to talk to. How did you get on with Mr Bartlow?’

Alison rolled her eyes. ‘I had the hard part of course.’ The blue eyes rolled again as she realised her unconscious pun. ‘I wasn’t chatting up boys in shops, I had to go and see Mr Bartlow. He was keen all right but he pretended he wasn’t and made me pay a price.’

Penny pursed her lip and went pink. She’d rather not know about that. Alison gave her friend a dig in the ribs. ‘We talked about you. I said you were still a virgin but it was beginning to bother you. I said he should have taken the opportunity when he had you out at the river and done you.’

‘You didn’t!’ gasped Penny feeling quite sick. ‘Tell me you didn’t!’ Alison gave an enigmatic smile. She was quite capable of saying it. Penny had started to grapple with her when who should come in but Mandy Whittingham.

‘What are you two doing. Naughty girls!’ They broke off. Alison, breathing hard, said, ‘Mandy; guess what!’

They told her. Penny managed to get in conversation with that boy in Allenhams and, guess what, he had asked about her, Mandy! And then guess what, Penny had arranged a date. This Friday. It was the only time he could make.

‘Cripes!’ breathed Mandy, flush-faced. ‘Cripes!! But I won’t be able to get out.’

‘You’ll have to,’ Alison told her. ‘You can’t miss a chance like this.’

‘Jeepers!’

‘You’ll be OK. No one checks. You can sneak in the back gate; girls do it all the time.’ Girls did do it but not all the time. Just occasionally. And not of course with Mr Bartlow waiting for them.

----//----

Mandy went and had a really super time, going to the pictures and then to a cafe. She came back to school on the last bus after they’d agreed to meet again on Sunday afternoon if Mandy could get a pass. Reaching the school rear entrance Mandy cautiously opened the gate and closed it behind her. It was dark but she could vaguely see where she was. Suddenly it wasn’t dark any more; there was a blinding light. A torch shining in her eyes. And Mr Bartlow’s voice. ‘Hello! What’s this!’

The torch was extinguished and Mr Bartlow was close, pushing Mandy up against the wall. ‘Well I do believe it’s Miss Amanda Whittingham. Been out with a boy I daresay and without a pass. And here she is sneaking back in.’ Mandy made a bleating sound. Hands grabbed her. Hands which in other circumstances would have been indignantly thrust away with threats of Mr Pinkerton. Now she simply produced a pleading ‘Please…’ Her light raincoat was unbuttoned and then her blazer. Mr Bartlow took enthusiastic hold of those firm, quite full mounds which he had often eyed with interest. He squeezed. ‘Well, my girl, what’s Mr Pinkerton going to make of this?’

‘No!’ Mandy had a kind of sicky feeling at what he was doing but didn’t try to stop him. ‘Please. Don’t tell Mr Pinkerton. He… he’ll expel me.’

‘What then?’ asked George. He pulled her forward and stuck one hand up Mandy’s skirt to greedily sample the tightly-knickered bottom. ‘You can’t just be let off, my girl.’

----//----

Ten minutes later Mandy was creeping numbly into the dorm.

She was met with excited greetings. Had she had a great time?

She blinked back the tears which squeezed out nonetheless. She wiped her eyes, then made a brave face. ‘Yes… super. But… bloody Bartlow… c…caught me coming back.’

Yelps of excitement. What had he done? In fact George hadn’t done anything much apart from pretty serious groping. ‘He…he’s going to see m…me in the morning.’

Alison wasn’t really a nasty girl but she couldn’t help it. ‘Oh dear Mandy; you’ll have to be very nice if he’s not to tell Pinkers. I mean you always say it, don’t you? He’ll want to do you. He’ll want to service you.’

It was too much and Mandy burst into tears. Penny went to put her arm round her and told Alison not to be cruel. Penny had a soft spot, that was the trouble, and was now feeling really bad that they had done this to Mandy.

Alison said, ‘Well, it’s only what you always say, Mandy. Now you’ll be able to tell us if it’s true.’

Later with the others still in a buzz about Mandy, Alison crept quietly into bed with Penny. She felt tremendously excited about Mandy and also excited because she could see Penny was upset by it. ‘She deserves it,’ she whispered fiercely and although Penny fought it, she insisted on getting her hand between Penny’s legs. Penny tried not to, but she couldn’t help responding; she came quite quickly, stifling her groans in the sheet.

----//----

The next day was Saturday with classes until 12 which was when Mandy had been told to go and see Mr Bartlow. Not in his own room but the boiler room down in the basement. Could he do things there that he wouldn’t want to do in his own room? Mandy felt sick but of course she was there on the dot because what was the option. The boiler room in fact was next to that room where Mandy had had to move that hockey stuff, that time she had angrily told Mr Bartlow off for putting his hand on her bum. She remembered that now — and presumably so did Mr Bartlow.

She tried to force a smile. ‘Mr Bartlow… I… uh, hope you don’t think that I’ve been, you know, unfriendly to you. I mean… well, I hope you don’t think that.’ She could hear herself grovelling but she was just plain scared.

Mr Bartlow gave her one of his funny looks. ‘As I recall, young Mandy, you got all excited when my hand accidentally touched your bum.’

Mandy tried to laugh. ‘No… It was just I…I had a headache that day. I’m not really, uh, silly like that.’

George reached round and took hold of Mandy’s rear. He squeezed.

‘No?’

‘No…no…’

‘Take your knickers down.’

Brown eyes darting, like a cornered animal. Was he going to… ‘Look… please…’

‘Take ‘em down!’

Hands reluctantly fumbled under the green-and-white dress. It felt really stuffy down there in the boiler room and Mandy could feel little pin-pricks of perspiration. Mr Bartlow was very close. Then his hand was up her dress. On her now bare bottom. His voice thick: ‘So you don’t mind me touching?’

Mandy’s voice came out all squeaky. ‘No… no… not… really.’

‘That’s good,’ he growled. ‘Because I intend to touch it. I’m going to smack it. And then I’m going to put the cane across it.’

Mandy made a spluttering sound. It was sick-making but at least it wasn’t… the other. Unless, he planned to do that afterwards. No… no, he couldn’t. Could he? that was just what girls said; what Mandy herself unfortunately said. Mr Bartlow’s hand was still on Mandy’s bare bottom. She licked dry lips. I’m not going to be sick, am I?

There was an old chair, with a broken back that had been mended. Mr Bartlow sat on it and Mandy was over his lap. Her skirt up round her waist and Mr Bartlow tugging her knickers right down to her knees. Groping, feeling up, at first, as you might expect. Then the spanking. It hurt all right, he seemed to be hitting just as hard as he could, but when you have a caning coming and also are afraid of something else… well…

Standing again — with a stinging sore bum. Mr Bartlow had got up and from some hidey-hole had produced a cane. A thin curving whippy-looking cane. Mr Pinkerton and Mr Griffin, Deputy Head, were the only people at St Helena’s allowed to cane girls and it didn’t happen very often. Mandy certainly had never had it. She gulped as Mr Bartlow held it out in front of her face.

‘This is my little tickler, my girl. He’s been waiting to see a bit of action for a while and now he gets his chance, eh!’

He bent her over the chair he’d been sitting on, over the seat with her hands on the floor and her head almost too. She felt her skirt pulled up again and gritted her teeth. She waited. Waiting for it was pretty dreadful. But not half as bad, when it did come, as the actual thing.

He gave her six. Standing, afterwards it felt like she’d sat in the fire. ‘Rub it if you want to,’ advised Mr Bartlow.

Mandy shook her head, wiping at the tears. Rubbing it might make it feel even worse but anyway there was something else to think about besides a dreadfully smarting bottom. What was going to happen now? She stood, tense, knickers still round her knees.

‘OK pull your knickers up.’

Her mind was a bit numb and it took a few seconds.

‘You… I…  is that… it, then?’

‘Unless you’d like six more.’

Frantically Mandy grabbed up her knickers, feeling a hot surge of release. She almost forgot her stinging bottom in the heady realisation that Mr Bartlow evidently wasn’t going to try anything else. No servicing. ‘OK?’ he asked. ‘That was fair, wasn’t it? A smacked bum and the cane and now we’ll forget about it and forget about Mr Pinkerton.’

‘Yes,’ Mandy breathed. ‘Yes… Thanks.’

George took hold of her arms. ‘Of course I could have asked for something else and I reckon you’d have had to say yes, eh?’

Mandy flushed red. ‘Uh… yes… thanks.’

He pulled her close. ‘How about a little kiss then?’

Mandy kissed him, on the mouth. And just to show she was grateful that there hadn’t been anything beyond caning she made it a proper one, pushing her tongue firmly into Mr Bartlow’s mouth. Her bottom was still stinging but as she went bouncily back up the stairs Mandy was not feeling too bad.

----//----

Sunday afternoon. Mandy had got her pass and gone off on her date with Dave. Mandy had been caned by Mr Bartlow, they all knew that but somehow it didn’t seem to bother her all that much. She seemed quite a good sort. Somehow the marvellous plot had lost its bite. Mandy had been caned but she had also met Dave. It was a bit annoying, to Alison at least. Penny of course was pleased.

‘We should have thought up some ploy, rather than fixing Mandy up with Dave,’ observed Alison. ‘We should have found ourselves a couple of boys.’ She and Penny had gone for a walk. It was a nice afternoon but of course it would have been a lot better if you had two boys with you. Penny agreed.

‘Still at least she got the cane,’ said Alison. ‘Did old Barters say anything about it, any details?’

Penny said, ‘No not really.’

Penny had seen Mr Bartlow soon after Mandy’s caning, had been taken out by him in fact. Mr Bartlow had to collect some stuff from the vicarage — vegetables, etc. — and had been told he could take a girl to help. He had taken Penny.

‘Didn’t he say anything?’ Alison wondered.

‘No, not really.’ Penny didn’t sound too communicative. Was she perhaps brooding about something?

‘And he didn’t do anything either? Any you know, that sort of thing?’

Penny gave a sharp ‘No’. Adding, ‘No, he didn’t. Well, he had just caned Mandy, hadn’t he.’

It was a subject Penny did not want to talk about and she hoped Alison would not pursue it. Yes she was brooding. Because Mr Bartlow had of course done something and it was all Alison’s fault. It seemed she had said that about Penny being a virgin and being bothered by it. That was why Mr Bartlow had chosen Penny to help with his job. That was why he had stopped in the woods coming back. Mr Bartlow had been perfectly beastly, threatening that he might go to Miss Kingston again and tell her he had made it up about that teacher getting the sack. And with the threat Penny had given in.

She had known from the beginning she shouldn’t have got involved with this business with Alison. All Mandy had got was a caning that didn’t seem to bother her too much, whereas she, Penny, had been forced to allow Mr Bartlow…

‘Let’s sit down,’ said Alison, ‘we need a rest.’ She put her arms round her friend. ‘As we haven’t any boys we’ll just have to console each other.’

Penny said she didn’t want to do that. Alison laughed. ‘You always say that but when we start you always do want it.’