Extra Curriculum

Story from Blushes Supplement 3, a sequel to Discovered from Blushes 10.

Life at the 6th form college was an easy one for the caretaker: Rogers had been there for nearly seven years now, and the routine was so much a part of his life he couldn’t see himself changing jobs again.

But Rogers life had been changed, when he discovered a girl in the Head’s Secretary’s office attempting to copy ‘A’ Level examination papers… and this had given him an opportunity to indulge in something which until then had only been a fantasy. To cane an errant schoolgirl. In fact, the episode had had a triple bonus, for two other girls were also involved in the cheating plot, and both agreed to allow Rogers to punish them rather than face the inevitable expulsion.

The likelihood of being able to play out his fantasy again was something which Rogers did not countenance. He had taken a risk when he had caned Amanda Travis and her two partners in crime, but he could not have foreseen how his unauthorised beating could have certain spin-off benefits…

Almost 4 weeks after that event, Rogers was approached by 18-year-old Amanda outside his little office by the boiler rooms. Clad in the familiar short ra-ra skirt, Amanda’s legs looked superb, disappearing up under the fabric to the area with which the caretaker was now so familiar.

‘Excuse me, Mr Rogers,’ she said politely, ‘But I’ve got a note here from my mother. It’s to do with the other night in a way…’ She handed over the envelope, and Rogers took it with a sense of foreboding, a premonition of his career in ruins spinning in his head.

He scanned the letter quickly, and read it again more slowly as his eyebrows lifted up his forehead. There it was, in Amanda’s mother’s neat script: I understand that you were kind enough to take the trouble to punish my daughter Amanda personally rather than let her school career be ruined at this late stage. I am grateful for what you did, and support your actions entirely.

Rogers looked up quickly at Amanda, but her face gave nothing away.

I should explain that the girls lost their father some three years ago in an accident, and that since then I have had to cope with bringing them up on my own — no easy task, as I’m sure you can imagine.

From time to time — such as with Amanda’s transgression — I feel both she and her younger sister Janet would benefit from a firm hand, and I would be most grateful if I could call upon you to administer whatever correction may be appropriate. Amanda understands that while she lives under my roof she must live by my rules, and that, despite her age, she may still be punished. However, she is normally a very sensible young lady.

Janet, however, who is 16, is — and I am reluctant to admit it — a little out of control, and I will, if you agree, send her to you tomorrow evening. I am sure you will be discreet in this matter, for Janet’s sake as well as my own, and I will ask Amanda to accompany her. Perhaps you could let Amanda know a convenient time. If you would rather not give Janet corporal punishment, I will quite understand: you may discuss this with Amanda.

Yours sincerely,

B R Travis

‘Mum showed me the letter, Mr Rogers, and I suggested I bring Janet along at about half past six tomorrow. Would that be convenient?’ asked Amanda.

‘Well er, yes… half six is fine. You’d better come to the library, as I’ll be working in there.’

‘Are you going to cane her like you did me? I didn’t tell mum you had me stripped almost naked. She’d have had a fit. Janet’s never been caned, but she had the hairbrush at our uncle’s last year a couple of times. Will you cane her?’ she asked again.

‘I really don’t know, Amanda. As this is her first time, I may only use a slipper. The cane’s for serious offences,’ he replied.

‘But she’s been stealing mummy’s money out of her purse. I’d say that was pretty serious, wouldn’t you? Anyway, mummy’s expecting her to be caned.’

‘I’ll bring along a cane, then; see you tomorrow, Amanda,’ and he turned to go to the boiler room. This would require some thought.

The thought of administering a cane to Amanda’s younger sister was one which made him nervous. This whole affair could backfire at any time. But he had her mother’s letter of authority, so it really was in loco parentis. He wondered if Janet measured up to the attractive fair-haired Amanda with her long, long, legs and pert rear-end. Tomorrow would tell.

In preparation for punishing Janet, Rogers gave one of his three canes a thorough rubbing down with linseed oil that night. Although only one of them had seen service since he rescued them from the fire two years ago when beating was banned, all three were in superb condition, gleaming in the light, and kept wrapped in linseed-oil-soaked cloths. He would exercise his lightest cane on Janet: still a wickedly bendy length of malacca slightly thicker than a pencil.

----//----

The next evening, Rogers was busy in the science block which housed the library, polishing the wooden floors conscientiously with a mechanical cleaner. He glanced at the clock. Six twenty-five. He went to the main doors, and saw Amanda and her sister turn the corner into the quadrangle. Unlocking the door — he had already checked the building was empty — he pushed it open and the girls walked silently through.

‘This is my sister, Janet, sir,’ said Amanda formally. ‘Janet, this is Mr Rogers, who is going to punish you.’

‘I know, Mandy. Hello, Mr Rogers.’ Janet’s eyes hadn’t left the floor as she held out her hand and Rogers took it in a reflex. It was cool to the touch.

‘This way girls,’ he said, leading the way to the library. He stood aside to let them walk in front of him through the library door, his eyes falling to the bare legs of the 16-year-old, paler than her sister’s, and a little skinnier. Her skirt began just above her knees, a plain blue into which was tucked a T-shirt which showed that Janet shared Amanda’s benefit of well-shaped breasts which danced free under the fabric.

The fair hair was longer than Amanda’s, scraped back into a pony-tail, leaving the face — free of make-up — looking rather white and gaunt.

There was a faint flush of colour in both cheeks, which contrasted with the skilfully made up features of Amanda.

Rogers took the lead again and walked to where the high racks of books obscured any view from the windows which ran along two sides of the room. In the large reading space formed by the racks was a heavy table surrounded by six chairs, the one nearest to the girls moved away to leave the end clear of obstruction.

Janet’s eyes flicked up to the racks on the right following a nudge from Amanda, and caught sight of the gleaming length of malacca hanging by its curved handle from the middle shelf.

‘That’s it, Jan,’ Amanda whispered.

‘Christ!’ was all Janet could manage.

‘Amanda, wait outside the door please, while Janet is disciplined,’ Rogers ordered.

‘Right, sir… I’ve got a note here from my mother,’ she replied, hand over a sealed envelope. ‘I don’t know what’s in it, though.’

‘Right, off you go,’ and Amanda turned to leave the room, Janet shuffling her feet and still looking at the floor, darting nervous glances up to the cane.

Rogers ripped the envelope open.

Dear Mr Rogers it began, Thank you for agreeing to our arrangement. I am sure I can rely on your discretion, and that you will respect my daughters’ modesty. Punishing them in this way is a last resort, but they are still young ladies and should of course be treated as such. Janet has not received a caning before, and this should be borne in mind. I regret, too, that Amanda has been less than totally honest with me over another matter and that she should be punished as well as Janet. I hope this is not inconvenient.

However, with Sports Day so nearby, it might be better that she is not caned. Perhaps an alternative can be found, or if not the punishment will have to wait until after Sports Day. Please let me know what you decide, as you’re the expert on these matters!

Yours sincerely,

B R Travis

Rogers smiled to himself. So Amanda needed to be beaten again! He would enjoy breaking the news to her.

‘Your mother tells me you have not been punished before, Janet. Is that right?’ he asked.

‘Yes, sir,’ came a whisper.

‘And that you have been stealing money from her purse. Is that right?’

‘Yes, sir,’ again the whisper.

‘And she’s sent you to me to have your bottom caned.’

‘Yes, sir, she said I’d get the cane. You won’t hit me too hard, will you sir?’ she pleaded, looking him in the eye for the first time. The deep hazel pools gripped his, her tongue licking along both lips. ‘I don’t feel very well, sir, bit queasy.’

‘That’s just because you’re nervous. Let’s get it over with, shall we?’ Rogers suggested.

‘Yes please, sir.’

Rogers suddenly decided that he would cane her just with her skirt lifted out of the way. The kid was obviously terrified, and her mother had urged that modesty be respected.

‘Stand up to the edge of the table, Janet, and lift your skirt right up,’ he ordered.

The girl took the two steps to the table, and started to hitch her skirt up her legs, finally revealing a pair of pink cotton panties which covered nearly all of her rounded rump but which were sufficiently thin for the division between her buttocks to be clearly seen. They would afford her little protection, and he wondered why she hadn’t selected something a little more substantial. Her fingers reached back to pull the garment down to cover the lower extremities of both cheeks, a move which was pointless when she was told to bend over the table as the thin fabric rode up a couple of inches again.

‘Reach out and hold the sides of the table, Janet,’ Rogers suggested, looking up the slender pale legs to the taut fabric of the target area, the bare skin above her knickers a slightly more olive shade. He leant over and lifted her skirt a few inches higher, and Janet pushed herself further over the table, turning her head to one side as she gripped the edges to rest it on the cool top.

Rogers reached up for the cane and swished it menacingly through the air. He saw the teenager flinch and her buttocks tense.

‘Not yet, Janet. Just relax. It’ll hurt more if you tense up.’ He saw the fleshy mounds relax, and Janet pushed her feet about six inches apart to keep steady. He wondered about pulling her knickers up as he had with Amanda just a week ago when she refused to take them down for a beating.

‘There’s time for that on another occasion,’ he thought to himself as he announced: ‘You’re going to receive four strokes, Janet. Keep still until it’s finished and wait until you’re told to get up. All right?’

‘Yes… sir,’ came the muffled response. Her feet shuffled another six inches apart.

Rogers lifted the cane and sank its whippy length the promised four times into the soft cotton-covered buttocks bent over the table, deliberately avoiding the bare portion of both cheeks presented at the lower end. The teenage victim jerked at each blow and gave a muffled cry:

Swwwittt! ’Aaaahhhh!’

Swwwittt! ’Aaaahhhh!’

Swwwittt! ’Christ!’

Swwwittt! ’Bloody heeellll!’

Rogers thought he could see the marks of the caning through the taut fabric as Janet lay obediently over the table waiting for the order to get up. She ached to rub her bottom, to alleviate some of the burning fire, and Rogers could see her cheeks clenching and relaxing as she wriggled over the table.

‘Stay there, Janet,’ he told her, and walked to the door where he spoke briefly to a startled-looking Amanda who nodded at the end of the conversation and came back to see Janet still bent over the table.

‘Stand up, Janet,’ he said, and the 16-year-old pushed herself off the table and plunged her soothing hands into her knickers to rub tenderly at her sore backside, affording Rogers a view of the top half of her bare buttocks which showed two neatly parallel tramlines.

‘How many, Jan?’ whispered Amanda.

‘Four stingers. Not too bad, though,’ she said bravely, forcing a smile for Amanda’s benefit.

‘Wait outside the door, please Janet. I’ll only be a moment with Amanda,’ Rogers said.

‘You’re not getting it again, Mandy?’ her sister queried anxiously.

‘Not the cane,’ Amanda whispered.

Janet closed the door behind her, and Amanda turned to face him.

‘This is turning into a habit, sir. Thanks for not caning me.’

‘Come over here Amanda. I should by rights be giving you the slipper, but if you’ll take it bare I’ll let you off with a good spanking.’

‘Sounds fair enough, Mr Rogers. Over the table?’ she asked.

‘No, over my lap, girl.’

‘Ah, the traditional approach. That’s what my uncle used to do, and dad too when he was alive…’

‘Stop prattling and lift your skirt up,’ Rogers snapped. Rogers sat on one of the chairs while Amanda pulled her ra-ra above her waist and folded it over on itself to keep it there. She wore another pair of scanty white cotton briefs which did nothing to disguise the full swell of her bottom. Rogers could just see the fading welts left by the caning he had given her a week ago, on her left buttock as she stood beside him.

‘Over you go,’ and she lowered herself over his knee, balancing her hips on his legs and taking her weight on her hands.

Rogers fitted his fingers into the waistband of the cotton and told her to lift her hips while he pulled them down in one slow, tantalising movement to rest just below the twin half-moons of flesh. When he had caned this girl, she had insisted on hitching her knickers up rather than taking them down. Now she didn’t protest as he exposed her magnificent buttocks and rested his hand on the bare right cheek prior to beginning the spanking.

Rogers paused for a moment as he took in the eight fading lines of the previous punishment, the clearest in the fleshiest part of the 18-year-old’s bottom. They would be gone by Sports Day.

His hand lifted and fell, and for the next sixty seconds the library walls resounded to the slap of bare palm on bare bottom, Amanda’s backside turning from a delicate pink to a deeper rose to a glowing red as the spanking progressed, her cheeks relaxed and quivering with each impact — each one quite hard, covering the whole area of both buttocks until she was a pulsing red from thigh to waist.

She gave little ‘ooohhherrs’ and ‘aaahhs’ when a particularly stinging spank landed, but didn’t interrupt proceedings and lay still over his lap when he finished, resting his palm over the crown of both cheeks, pressing down into the warm softness.

‘Right, that’s it Amanda. Up you get,’ and she stood, covering her bush modestly with her hands until she turned and hitched her knickers back into place, letting her ra-ra fall to cover the area of action.

‘Thanks for letting me off with a spanking, sir, I appreciate it,’ she smiled. ‘God it feels hot back there!’

Rogers could feel the sweat clammy on his forehead with the exertion of the spanking — not to mention the excitement of having this attractive young lady over his knee with her knickers down.

‘I’ll let you two out, then,’ he said, opening the door where an anxious Janet was waiting, and following their undulating rears down the corridor to the entrance.

‘Thank you for coming in, girls,’ he said awkwardly.

‘Thank you, sir,’ they bleated in unison, walking off.

Returning to the library, Rogers didn’t see the old man walk off with his little terrier trotting behind. The same old man who always exercised his dog around the school, and who had witnessed one of the canings the previous week, through an uncurtained window.

‘This college is becoming very strict,’ he thought to himself.

‘They’re caning girls every week now. I wonder if the local paper knows about it…’