Red Handed Red Bottomed

From Blushes 9

Lights out, the prowling housemaster’s footsteps outside the dormitory door came and long gone. Six of the eight girls in 7D fast asleep, a whispered conversation in a blanket-huddled bed.

‘Still tender?’

A slim hand inside pyjama bottoms, touching gently, skimming over warm young buttocks, lingering here and there where the cheeks feel faintly swollen.

‘Yes, sort of — it was horrible, Jenny. He made me take everything off — everything!’

‘He would —’

Fingers wangling the waistband down over silky hips.

‘Better than being reported to Old Creepy though.’

‘I know — I heard Chrissie Willis got a sixer from him every day for a week for smoking.’

Elastic waistband loose around knees, slipped down without any protest made. Another guarded whisper.

‘Turn on your back Sue —’

‘The duty teacher might come, Jen — he might — sometimes he does —’

‘Turn over —’

Slim legs smooth against each other, pyjama tops and bottoms twisted untidily.

‘Come on, Sue —’

‘Don’t be silly —’

Soft fuzz under knowing fingers, moist parting, silky smooth slipperiness.

‘Jen — I’m frightened. We might get caught. Please —’

‘Don’t worry about that — we won’t get caught.’

Young hips lifting rhythmically despite themselves, the older girl urging her young friend on, Sue’s excited panting louder in the quiet room than either of them realise.

A sudden blaze of light, a stentorian voice —

----//----

Two chubby young bottoms, one faintly but unmistakably marked with pale bluish blotches where the caretaker’s spanking hairbrush has left its imprint, both goose-pimply in the cold atmosphere of the bathrooms at the end of the dormitory landing.

Two young bottoms side by side, two girls bent together across a large wicker laundry basket, tears already in the eyes of the younger as the housemaster’s cane pat-pats on her flinching bottom, finding its aiming point, teasing and testing before being drawn resolutely back and swished down with wicked speed —