What the Dickens!

From Uniform Girls 8 — we’re back at Kingswood School for Girls (The Games Mistress) where, as we've seen, they take the training and discipline of teachers very seriously…

‘The only possible problem I can see you having is with discipline,’ said the Headmaster. ‘I’m afraid our previous spiritual adviser was led a bit of a dance. The assumption seemed to be that as a man of the cloth he was an easy touch. And unfortunately this turned out to be more or less true.’

They were in the Head’s study, Mr Dowling and the Reverend James Lambton. The latter was to take the place of the unfortunate Reverend Gostling in part-time duties with Religious Knowledge and also assist with Music at Kingswood School for Girls. James Lambton, in his thirties, was considerably younger than his predecessor: he could even warrant the appellation ‘trendy young priest’. But were trendy young priests noted for discipline? That was what concerned the Head.

‘It’s not just the girls, Reverend Lambton. I am concerned about the staff as well. They are almost all female and some of them quite young. I would look for another male on the staff to be able to put a bit of steel into them. The Reverend Gostling, I am afraid, was somewhat disappointing in that regard.’

Reverend Lambton, sipping the Head’s sherry, answered that gentleman he would not be a soft touch. ‘No, I think I can be as firm as the next man, Headmaster. I can assure you that my choir at St Bartholomew’s was a most disciplined body. Yes. Oh and… please call me Jim!’

Mr Dowling said thank you, he would, though naturally not inviting Reverend Lambton to address him as Arthur. But he was still concerned to search the new man out; it was after all easy enough to say one could impart discipline.

‘Have you ever caned a female, er, Jim. That choir of yours: girls in it no doubt. Did you ever have occasion to tickle up one of their bottoms with the stick?’

James Lambton flushed slightly. No he hadn’t. He indeed was not at all sure it would have been approved. He had smacked one girl’s bottom, though, and was not at all sure that that would have been approved either. However young Susan Peachey had not said anything, as the Reverend Lambton had assumed she would not because he knew something about Miss Peachey that she would not wish made public. Concerning one of the boys. Spanking Susan Peachey had in fact been highly stimulating, causing the Reverend James Lambton to get an unusually large erection as he did it.

He recalled all this as he answered the Head. ‘Er, not exactly, Headmaster, but I am sure I can handle it. Caning… And also… spanking?’

‘Yes indeed. And I am not only talking about the girls. These younger staff as well. Miss Crawshaw, of course, Games, I am rather taking in hand myself so you need not concern yourself with her. But there is another, Miss Dickens, who indeed will be very much your province, your responsibility.’

James Lambton had met Miss Dickens, a darkly attractive and shapely young woman who had smiled sweetly at him. She was his area, teaching both RK and Music. He had also met Miss Crawshaw. The Games Mistress had quite enormous tits. Was the Head saying that he was dealing with Miss Crawshaw’s equally generously proportioned bottom? And warning the newcomer off in that direction? Whatever the situation it did seem that he, the Reverend James Lambton, was being invited, indeed instructed, to deal with Miss Dickens.

‘Miss Dickens is unfortunately somewhat lacking in the disciplinary department. Some of her music classes are in an uproar at times. That will be your responsibility now. And I think I’ve indicated how matters should be brought home to that young lady.’

James Lambton, picturing the shapely and attractive Miss Dickens, felt a pleasant tingle in the front of his trousers. ‘Yes Headmaster. The cane… and a spanking…?’

Mr Dowling nodded assent. ‘I’ve also got a nice little leather strap that’s very effective in touching up the female posterior.’

----//----

Elaine Dickens had not been long at Kingswood School herself but it had been long enough to fall foul of Mr Dowling. It was true discipline was not her strong point and the headmaster had unfortunately happened to look in early on when the girls had been larking about a bit. He had given her a sharp warning: she would have to do better than that. Flushing, Elaine had made abject apologies. Things were usually not at all like that, it was just an uncharacteristic moment.

Unfortunately Mr Dowling had looked in again two days later when things weren’t a lot better. A certain amount of shouting etc. What happened then Elaine Dickens would rather not think about. It was quite unbelievable — but it had happened all right. Mr Dowling had taken Elaine to that room, Room 4C, where he dealt with troublesome older girls. He had dealt with Elaine Dickens.

He had caned her. He had actually caned her. Elaine Dickens, B.A. Oxford, had been bent over the desk and had her skirt raised and then the cane sliced sickeningly in six times across the ripe swell of her tight, brief knickers. It was difficult to know what was worse: the intense, incredibly stinging pain or the equally intense humiliation.

When he had finished Elaine could hardly stand up. The Head had said mildly, ‘Please try and remember what that felt like, Miss Dickens. Please see that I don’t have to do it again.’

Somehow she had since then kept the girls in some sort of order, at least when the Head was around, and had thus avoided any repeat. But Elaine had been living in fear and trembling of it. Now, though, with the arrival of the Reverend Lambton, Elaine felt she could afford a sigh of relief, Mr Lambton would be like a buffer against the dreadful Mr Dowling and would also no doubt see that order was maintained. He seemed a very pleasant man and of course being a clergyman was bound to be sympathetic and helpful. Yes, Reverend Lambton would be a godsend.

Seeing him in the common room on his second day, Elaine invited the new member of staff to a cup of tea in her room. Reverend Lambton smilingly accepted. Elaine Dickens naturally had no idea that he had just had explicit instructions from the Headmaster regarding her very choice hindquarters.

They were choice. James Lambton, seated in Elaine’s best armchair, observed them with keen interest as Elaine knelt before her fire toasting a teacake. Her position thrust her rear divisions into excellent prominence under a tight black skirt. They were most generously sized without being at all saggy. Each cheek separately delineated and when Elaine moved each had a quite independent jiggling motion of its own. The Reverend Lambton’s reproductive member could not help showing undoubted interest as he recalled what the headmaster’s instructions had been.

‘He’s something of a disciplinarian, I understand; our Mr Dowling.’

A gentle testing of the waters. Elaine felt a little shiver. She said, ‘Oh dear, yes.’

‘I gather he can be a stickler with his staff as well. At least… the younger ladies.’

Was there a special acknowledging tremble from Elaine’s splendid hindquarters? She said ‘Oh dear’ again.

‘Yes, he more or less informed me that he was… er… personally dealing with Miss Crawshaw in that regard.’

The teacake was done. Elaine sat up, burgeoning bottom-cheeks squashing down on her heels. Her face was flushed and not only with the heat of the fire. She was aware that the headmaster was paying particular interest to Christine Crawshaw — quite probably it was not unconnected with those very big things Christine had. Elaine didn’t know what was happening to Christine but she thought she could guess. It made her shiver. As it was… Elaine felt an overwhelming desire to unburden herself to this nice newcomer. This man who would be her protector from all that.

She produced a shy smile. ‘It… it’s not only Christine he’s dealt with.’

‘No?’ queried James Lambton.

Not without hesitation and moments of hot embarrassment Elaine told the whole tale. Of what had been so devastatingly done to her own tail. The Reverend Lambton heard it with mounting excitement. He uttered sounds of sympathy —while he felt only heady arousal.

‘Did he actually… er… lower your knickers…?’

Hot-faced Elaine shook her head. ‘But… well, it was virtually as bad. I mean… they’re very thin and also… well, brief.’

James Lambton, fairly quivering, made commiserating sounds.

‘Have another crumpet,’ invited his hostess. He declined, he had done very well. James Lambton was still thinking of Elaine’s description of what had happened in Room 4C. He was thinking also of what he himself had been instructed to do in that same room.

‘Ah… Elaine…’

‘Yes… Jim.’ It was rather exciting calling a clergyman by his Christian name. He really was a nice man, so sympathetic. What a difference from Mr Dowling. So natural and umpompous. Well, just imagine pompous Mr Dowling wearing plimsolls with his suit. As Elaine thought these glowing, warming thoughts, the Reverend Lambton was trying to explain what he was required to do with Miss Elaine Dickens.

With all those glowing thoughts it took a lot to get the message across. Even when James Lambton got to the stage of spelling it out, Elaine’s mind just could not accept it.

‘I’m afraid those are my instructions, Elaine. Of course, I shall be doing it for the best possible reasons; for your own good. I need not say that I shall not enjoy it one iota. But I have simply no choice in the matter.’

He smiled, a reassuring clergyman’s smile. It was finally getting through to Elaine. She shook her head.

‘I’m to do it in that room — 4C. That’s where he deals with the girls, I hear. And I think you said that was where he dealt with you, my dear.’

Elaine said Yes in a distracted manner. Was this nice Reverend Lambton really saying all this…?

----//----

Reverend Lambton locked the door. They were in room 4C and that was the headmaster’s normal procedure when he had a girl or young member of staff in here, and the Reverend Lambton had been advised to do likewise. Disciplining of females was a serious business and one did not wish interruptions. Elaine had been brought here straight from her room, straight from that cosy tea-and-teacakes session.

‘We may as well make a start right away,’ James Lambton had said, keeping the eagerness out of his voice. Poor Elaine was really in no state to argue. What he was saying had finally got fully through to her but at the same time it was not easy to believe it. Could such a nice man really be going to act just like awful Mr Dowling?

It seemed he could. Elaine stood forlornly, incongruously wearing her academic gown. Reverend Lambton had told her to bring it and put it on. ‘To formalise proceedings.’ Also incongruously there was a book of music on the floor. Lying abandoned. Had the Head been making some hapless Sixth Former sing as he caned her?

But there was not time for such thoughts as that. Mr Lambton was now sitting on the chair, and indicating that Elaine was to get over his lap. She looked weakly at him. Was it possible that Reverend Lambton might listen to pleading? Abjectly she tried… Could he not merely say he had done it; but in fact…

James Lambton smiled a smug and godly smile. ‘You wouldn’t want me to lie, Elaine, I am sure.’ She felt almost ashamed of suggesting it. ‘Come on, my dear, just remember we are all in the hands of the One above.’

 

Elaine’s bottom at least was very shortly in the hands of the Reverend Lambton. He grabbed up the tail of her gown and then her skirt. Elaine had chosen today, for no particular reason, to wear a sexy white suspender belt and dark nylons, and a very brief pair of white nylon knickers. A truly enticing sight. James Lambton, in not at all a godly manner, grabbed and groped.

The brief knickers were grabbed down and there was Elaine’s bottom in all its bare and magnificent splendour; twin moons of succulent flesh, ripe for — well, whatever was needed. What was needed was chastisement. Miss Dickens, on the Head’s instruction, had to be disciplined. Sweet and attractive though she might be she must clearly be made to suffer, to feel keen pain in those ripe hemispheres.

James Lambton crashed his hand down, as hard as he could. There was a resounding Splatt! and the meat of one ripe cheek was momentarily flattened. Elaine Dickens produced a whimpering gasp. The sharply stinging pain was perhaps not quite as desperately bad as the sizzling cut of Mr Dowling’s cane but there was now the added fact that she was displaying a bared bottom. The Reverend Lambton’s hand splatted down on her bare and intimate regions, as if she were a naughty schoolgirl. Elaine felt she could die from the sheer shame of it — quite apart from the shocking pain.

James Lambton continued as he had begun, a solid, heavy barrage onto the fleshy cheeks. Elaine Dickens struggled in impotent desperation. She jerked her bottom. Her legs came swinging up. One hand came up off the floor and back in an attempt at protection — but her tormentor simply twisted it behind her and kept going. Some time later he changed his position, getting Elaine over one thigh with his right leg twisted round her. Now she could hardly move at all. The hand kept cracking down.

----//----

 

Back in Miss Dickens’s room some little while later Reverend Lambton asked, ‘How are you feeling now?’ Elaine shook her head, not yet ready for rational speech. She felt just devastated. She had hardly been able to walk along the corridor from room 4C and had been conscious, vaguely, of one or two girls looking curiously at her. How could nice Reverend Lambton be quite so vicious? And what was he doing now?

James Lambton was taking off her skirt. He was in a state of arousal even more acute than with that Susan Peachey. On that occasion being as it were in loco parentis regarding 16-year-old Susan there had been nothing for it but to commit the sin of Onan: to spill his seed on the ground as it were, or at least onto the floor of the loo. But he wasn’t in loco parentis regarding Miss Elaine Dickens who was a full grown 23-year-old. Of course it would be another sin — fornication — at times sinning was not completely avoidable.

‘No!’ breathed Elaine, becoming aware of what the Reverend Lambton might now have in mind.

But that reverend gentleman clearly was not to be deterred. Oh dear, could it possibly be true? Having suffered that dreadful business in room 4C, Elaine was now to be ravished…

Elaine was not quite a virgin but equally she was not the sort of girl who got herself on the Pill or anything. And Reverend Lambton…?

‘Are you… using something…?’ she gasped into his ear.

For the moment the Reverend Lambton, well inserted and moving rhythmically, was not speaking. Later though, shortly, when he had finished, he admitted he had not.

What was a girl to do? Clearly nothing about that occasion except hope and pray. But… James Lambton made it clear he would not be content with just this once. In desperation Elaine consulted Christine Crawshaw. ‘It’s… my boyfriend,’ she told Christine. ‘He… well, I can’t control him at times.’ This was not true. Elaine could control her boyfriend very well, but she could hardly say it was the Reverend Lambton. Christine gave her a hard look and then went to a cupboard. She produced a packet of contraceptives. She could tell Elaine where to get further supplies, she said.

Well that at least was something. You would think of course that with Elaine allowing that favour, or at least being forced to allow it, James Lambton might forget about the disciplining. But he did not, he said it was his duty to continue. He made Elaine go to room 4C and wait for him with her skirt pulled up and her knickers down. Reverend Lambton also now progressed beyond merely using his hand. He had got a cane from the Headmaster, and also a nasty leather strap.

Who would think a man of God could behave in such a manner?