Mr Benfield’s Bottom-Tickler

From Uniform Girls 43. It’s that lovely tarty model from Caned Before School again. In the absence of any further information, let’s call her Sandra Simley from now on. If anyone knows better I'm happy to update.

Sandra Simley smiled at herself in her full-length bedroom mirror. Did she look sexy? She pouted her full-lipped mouth and shimmied her round hips. She was wearing just a white bra and her brief pale-pink cotton knickers and these items of underwear showed off a figure that for 17 was decidedly mature and womanly. And with her full mouth and blue eyes, and long curling blonde hair… yes, definitely sexy was her opinion. Sandra pouted again, arching her back to stick her high, pert tits out at the mirror. She could easily be someone on TV; a contestant in some show or even a proper actress. She certainly intended to be something of that sort when she left school this summer.

Mr Kingley who was Careers Adviser said you needed good GCEs to be an actress just as much as for other things, but of course he would say that. Sandra didn’t believe that stuff — because for one thing she was not at all likely to get good GCEs, she might not get any at all according to some people. No, she didn’t believe it. Girls got on TV with personality. Sexiness.

She wiggled her hips again, and turned her mind from the future to more immediate matters. Mr Canton who was the new English master. He was quite young and tall and perhaps a bit shy with the older girls. Several girls thought he was really sexy including Sandra. She could have very exciting thoughts about Mr Canton.

Yes. She glanced at her bedside clock. Oh Christ look at the time! But… she slid the pink knickers down. Just for a sec. Her hand cupped her blonde-bushed pussy. Thinking of Mr Canton made her quickly wet. She slipped a finger in between the slippery lips of her sex. Oh Christ…! Imagining herself with her knickers off and her legs open. On the bed. And Mr Canton with his big stiff thing out… Sliding it easily into her.

She groaned. Then another desperate glance at the clock. A frantic yelp. Reluctantly she stopped playing with herself. She was going to be late, and she couldn’t be late again! Galvanised into action she yanked up her knickers. Grabbed her tartan skirt, blouse, school tie… But she was going to be late.

----//----

Sandra was late, about 15 minutes. She thought she had made it in with no one noticing though, but then at the last moment before she got to her classroom there was Mr Benfield confronting her.

She gasped at the shock. Bloody hell! Benfield, the school caretaker, could be scary. Oldish with a cropped greying beard, he had an eye for the good-looking girls. No doubt Mr Benfield thought Sandra was sexy. And no doubt he entertained lecherous thoughts of what he could do to her… if he ever got the chance. But hopefully catching her trying to sneak in a quarter of an hour late didn’t really come into that category. Sandra didn’t fancy having Benfield do things to her. He certainly didn’t rate with Mr Canton.

‘Well well! Wot’s this then!’ He barred her way. ‘Sandra Simley sneaking in late again!’

‘No! Please… I’m… not really late. I… I’ve just been to the loo.’

‘The loo!’ He pushed her up against the wall. ‘Don’t give me that. You just left home. Didn’t you have a pee before you left?’

‘That’s none of your business.’ Sandra could feel herself blushing. ‘Look, let me get by Benfield or I will be late.’

‘Mr Benfield. Or you’ll get a clip round the ear.’ He laughed. ‘Or at the very least a squeeze of those nice tits. Wot I should really do is give you a caning. That pretty bum you’re always wiggling and wriggling when there’re any boys around. Take your knickers down and cane your bare bum!’

‘Cut it out!’ Benfield was looming over her, one hand against the wall on either side blocking any escape. ‘Or… I’ll report you.’ Sandra added not too convincingly, ‘I really will.’

Benfield gave an incredulous laugh. ‘You’ll report me! Wot a joke. I am going to report you, Miss. To the Head. Tell him I know for a fact you’ve been late every day this week. And last week.’

‘No!’ Because Sandra had been warned by the Head about being late. ‘Look…’ she tried to sound placatory. ‘I… I’m sorry, Mr Benfield.’

Benfield’s eyes were fixed on Sandra’s tits trembling in her white blouse on either side of her school tie. ‘Sorry are we? OK. But how are you going to show you’re sorry?’ He gave her an owlish look. ‘Let me have a feel of them pretty tits? Or maybe… a quick feel of your pussy?’

‘D…Don’t you dare! Look… I’ve got to go…’

‘OK then. But… you better come down to my place after school. Today. OK? We’ll discuss it then. And if you’re not there I’ll go straightaway to the Head. If you think I’m joking just you try it.’

Benfield moved one arm. He was letting her go. There was no time to argue. As she stepped through the space his hand came heavily across her tits. Sandra yelped, pushing the groping fingers away. The hand didn’t resist and slipped down. The lack of resistance caught her off guard. She didn’t realise Benfield had a second target. Until the hand closed through Sandra’s tartan skirt on her pussy.

She let out a strangled squawk. Grasping at the hand which now did resist. For some long seconds it held her, like a crab’s claw. Tightly gripping her pussy. She finally struggled free. Stumbling forward. In doing so Sandra presented the dreadful Benfield with another target. His hand this time grabbed a cheek of her bottom.

His voice behind her cackling: ‘Now don’t you forget young Sandra, right after school. I’ll be waiting.’

----//----

Sandra was just a few minutes late for her first class which as it happened was Mr Canton. If it hadn’t been for that awful Benfield she would have been on time. She had missed assembly but with any luck no one would have noticed. As long as Benfield didn’t report her. Hurrying to her place she could still feel the caretaker’s hands. Just about everywhere! Her tits and bottom. And her pussy! That dirty old sod! And he wanted her to go and see him after school. Down in the basement where he had a little room next to the boiler.

If she went he was probably going to try more of that same awful grabbing. What she should do instead was report him. For groping her. But if she did there was no doubt Benfield would snitch on her and she would have to face the Head’s wrath. He had said last week he would give her detentions for a month. Also call her parents in and give them a real earful. She really didn’t want that. Which meant…

Sandra tried to put it out of her mind. To concentrate instead on Mr Canton. Not on what he was saying but on Mr Canton himself. It would be a very different thing having Mr Canton grope her. She wouldn’t mind that. His hand… on her pussy… Oooohh…!! Sandra squeezed her thighs together. But Mr Canton wouldn’t do it of course. He was too shy. Unlike dirty old Benfield.

She was going to have to see Mr Canton at the end of the class, to say why she hadn’t done her essay yet. What would she say? Something sexy? ‘I’m afraid I just can’t concentrate on it Mr Canton. I keep thinking of you and my pussy gets all wet and I can’t concentrate. I keep thinking of your big thing up inside me. Sliding in and out.’

Yes, maybe something like that, while fixing him with her big blue eyes. And Mr Canton would get all embarrassed and at the same time probably would get an erection. And she would move in close and accidentally on purpose get her hand on it.

Sandra didn’t actually say that. Or actually get her hand on the English master’s erect member. But she did stick her boobs out at him in an inviting way while giving him her direct wide-eyed look. And she did say something personal. Something to remind him she was a young woman, not just a schoolgirl.

‘I… uh… had a headache Mr Canton, that was why I haven’t done it yet. It was quite bad. But… uh… it wasn’t my period. I mean I had that a week ago. So it wouldn’t be that would it?’

Smiling encouragingly at Mr Canton. Who was clearly thrown by this revelation. Perhaps even blushing a little… As maybe into Mr Canton’s mind came the thought of having intercourse with her?

Sandra went smoothly on, ‘Actually I could do with discussing a few things, if you had the time.’ Laughing. ‘I mean the essay, not my period of course. Which as I say is alright and I won’t be getting for another two weeks. I mean if I could see you after school… I could come round to your place, that wouldn’t be any trouble.’

And Mr Canton after hesitating for a moment said yes! Maybe one afternoon at the end of the week. He would let her know.

----//----

Mr Benfield was sitting waiting for her when Sandra appeared down in his basement retreat just after 4.30. she was somewhat breathless from rushing, afraid he might have already gone to the Head. But no, here he was in this claustrophobic little room which smelt of stale tobacco. Sitting in his old armchair.

Benfield told her to close the door, then eyed her speculatively. ‘Yes. Wot you need my girl is a good caning. Like I told you.’

Sandra gave a little yelp of alarm. No! She hadn’t imagined he was serious. But there were rumours that Benfield had caned girls. When he had been able to persuade them to take it and keep quiet, because he certainly wasn’t allowed to do it. No way.

‘Yus. That’s wot you need. On that nice round bum. With your knickers down. Then I wouldn’t need to go to the Head.’

‘No!’ she yelped. ‘No way! I’m not taking a bloody caning.’ Sounding defiant but fluttering her eyes nervously. Benfield was eyeing her boobs of course. And her pussy. Sandra could remember all too clearly his hands groping her. She would have a job preventing him doing it again. Preventing a real extended groping this time. But… not a bloody caning.

Benfield sucked his tongue. Getting to his feet now.

‘We could say just a good spanking maybe. A good walloping of that pretty arse. As a special concession.’

‘No! Don’t…’ he had come towards her and Sandra had backed away but now her back was against the wall. There was no space in Benfield’s little room, there was nowhere a girl could go to get away from him, not once she was in there with the door closed. Sandra tried to keep his hands off her tits… but then one hand just slid smoothly down below and was at her pussy. She yelped, grabbing frantically at it. But in doing so her tits became exposed again… Hot-faced, she gave a desperate little squeal.

‘Come on! Stop that squirming and wriggling. Let’s get you over my lap. Alright…?’

She shouldn’t have agreed to it. Well she didn’t actually agree, just didn’t say firmly enough she wasn’t going to let him. Which was good enough for Arthur Benfield. He grabbed her arm — at least ceasing his groping for the moment — and pulled Sandra towards his chair. Sitting down he pulled her across his lap. She was yelping and protesting but… it was happening.

She was over his lap and unable to prevent her skirt from being yanked abruptly up. Baring her thighs and those brief pale-pink knickers. Benfield’s hand was feeling her bum in the tight knickers and then… A renewed yelp as his hand slipped in the top of her knickers. He was pulling them down! ‘No!’ But now Sandra was held fast across Benfield’s lap, unable to resist. Her knickers were coming down.

She hadn’t agreed to this! Not with her knickers down! She was struggling now in earnest but to no avail because Benfield had her arm pinned painfully behind her back. And her knickers were coming down. Her bottom was half bare. Benfield had his hand shockingly on the bare flesh.

‘Keep still!’ He gritted. ‘I’m only… getting these knicks down… A girl’s got… to have ‘em down… eh? These pretty pink ones.’

‘No! No… ooo…!’

But the pink knickers were down. Halfway down Sandra’s writhing thighs. Her bottom was fully bare. Benfield’s hand greedily groping the silky-soft flesh. And then sliding underneath. Under the taut thrust of the ripe hemispheres. To where her thighs began. And where something else was hidden. A girl’s private place. Guarded by crisp curls. The caretaker’s hand pushed firmly in there, between Sandra’s thighs.

She let out a shuddering squeal. He had his hand on her pussy. One finger sliding in between the lips.

Benfield’s thick, lecherous voice: ‘This is wot she likes eh? This is wot hot young Sandra likes. A finger in her pie.’

He kept at her for some long moments. His fingers mind-bendingly at her pussy. And then Benfield started spanking her. He had got her all hot and now he started really whacking his hand down. Just as hard as he could on Sandra’s frantic bottom. She was in a desperate state from his fingers frigging her and now this spanking.

Sandra was soon crying. Sobbing. Her now bright-red bottom rolling and writhing. Legs impotently kicking. Her head was spinning round and round. It was like she was going out of her mind.

----//----

Robert Canton felt he needed some advice. Guidance regarding the older girls. He just wasn’t too experienced with 17 and 18-year-old girls and sometimes he guessed they played up to this. Just one or two of them. He would like to have gone to the Head for a chat, but he found Mr Aubrey a little daunting. Then he thought of Mr Benfield. Benfield was only the caretaker but nonetheless he was an old experienced hand with girls.

Benfield proved to be very eager to receive Robert Canton’s confidences. Yes, girls of that age could be a problem. A man needed to build up experience in handling them. But meanwhile if Mr Canton would just tell him the details. The particular girls. Or girl. With an owlish look Benfield inquired if by any chance Sandra Simley could be one of those he was having trouble with.

----//----

‘Well what… what is it?’ Sandra nervously inquired. Adding, ‘I’ve got to be going. I’m not staying.’

She was down in Benfield’s little room again. Facing him as he leant against his table. Sandra had said she wouldn’t come when he said he wanted to see her again. Not after that last time two days ago. But Benfield had darkly replied that she had better, or she could very well find herself expelled. He wouldn’t say anything else so she had no real choice. But… she wasn’t going to take anything this time.

‘Close that door. And you’ll stay as long as I want. Unless, as I say, you want to be expelled. This time I’m really going to give you it. This time it is the cane.’

‘Wha…What are you talking about…’ she stuttered. ‘I haven’t done anything. And I haven’t been late. N…Not again.’

And Sandra had managed to get to school on time these last two days. She had got up in time (just) and then had kept moving. There had been no impromptu last minute masturbatory daydreams of Mr Canton. Sandra had done a good deal of that in bed though. Both nights. Frigging herself as she thought of the English master and her coming visit to his house. He had now said Friday, which was tomorrow. It was going to be fantastic.

But right now of course here she was with awful Benfield, who was making these ridiculous threats.

‘Mr Canton has spoken to me. About your behaviour. He should have gone to the Head of course, but he spoke to me first. If he goes to the Head it will probably mean expulsion young lady. It would be the last straw. So I told him to hang on. Maybe I could sort you out. With my whippy bottom-stinger.’

‘Wha…What…!’ Sandra shook her head. Red-faced. What had Mr Canton said? ‘Don’t…’ she gasped. As Benfield grabbed her now. She tried to push his hands off her tits, still trying to get exactly what Mr Canton had said. But Benfield wasn’t providing an answer. For one thing he was too interested in his groping. Her tits. Her bottom. Her pussy… Sandra struggled, shuddering.

Could she be expelled? Could Mr Canton have said something that would be the last straw, as Benfield claimed. Insofar as Sandra could think straight, with the shock of this bombshell and also Benfield’s grabbing hands everywhere, she didn’t think so. But she couldn’t think straight, not really. And… it might be possible.

Benfield wasn’t going to be content with a spanking this time. This time it had to be the cane he said. Gritting it out as he wrestled with her. It had to be the cane. That was the only thing she would understand.

Finally, half in tears now, she gave way. OK. If no one was going to go to the Head. Benfield, eyes greedy at the prospect of Sandra’s bared bottom, agreed. No, no involvement of the Head. Just the caning. Just a good, hard caning.

----//----

He didn’t do it in his room. Maybe there wasn’t enough space to really swing the cane. Instead it was outside in the bigger space by the side of the boiler. Benfield arranged two wooden chairs opposite each other and about two feet apart. He said he wanted her with her knees on one chair and her forearms on the other.

Sandra looked at the chairs. What had she expected? To be told to simply bend over and touch her toes? Or maybe be bent over the seat of a chair. She nervously wet her lips.

‘I…I’ll fall off.’

Benfield briskly told her not to be silly. Get up on the chair. Kneeling, and then bend forward…

She did it. She wasn’t falling but it felt awfully precarious. But she soon forgot about that. Because Benfield had her skirt up over her back and was sliding her knickers down.

‘White today eh? Not those pink ones. But these white ones are very nice.’

The cane! All at once the enormity of what was about to happen hit her. Benfield was groping her now-bare bum but it was the sudden shocking thought of that cane.

‘Look… Not hard… Please… Don’t do it… hard…’

But of course Benfield did do it hard. It was as if a red-hot poker had been laid across her bare bottom. Searing the flesh. When it landed she did almost come off the chairs, with her hip-lunging reaction.

Benfield gave her two more. Each as devastating as the first. Then his hand at her stinging bottom.

‘How was that Miss? For starters?’

He told her to get down. Sandra stumbled to her feet. She could hardly stand. Her bottom was killing her! Benfield said that was just a start. Now he wanted her knickers right off. And her skirt off. Her bra off… and her blouse pulled right up. He wanted to see her tits.

‘Come on. Now we’re going to start properly.’

Afterwards Sandra told herself not to think about it, she needed to blank it out of her mind, as if none of it had happened Was that possible? Maybe not but she would try. It was the only way to handle such an impossibly awful experience.

----//----

But didn’t they say every cloud had a silver lining? It was a soppy sentiment perhaps but maybe it was true. In Sandra’s case, at least, it seemed like it was. The silver lining being Mr Canton.

She still had her appointment with him on Friday, it appeared to be still on, and she went as planned. Mr Canton seemed a bit sheepish — as well he might after what Benfield had done to her. But did Mr Canton know what Benfield had done?

Sitting primly on the sofa in Mr Canton’s flat Sandra said in a hurt-little-girl voice, ‘I don’t think I did anything to deserve being sent to the Head. Or for Benfield to do all that to me.’

Mr Canton, seated opposite in his armchair, went all red and flustered. Claiming he didn’t know what she was talking about. He had merely discussed with Benfield the subject of dealing with Sixth Form girls. There was nothing about anyone going to the Head. Looking all innocent — and still flustered — he asked, ‘Did Mr Benfield do anything then?’

Sandra didn’t know whether to believe him. But at least it was an opportunity. ‘I’ll show you if you want,’ she offered. ‘I’ll show you what he did with his cane. The marks are still there.’

Sandra stood up and pulled down her knickers. Then flipped her skirt up round her waist. ‘Look. Look at that.’

Mr Canton might be shy but he was clearly interested in looking at Sandra’s gorgeous bare bottom. She moved closer, so that it was inches from his face — and was rewarded with the touch of his hand. Tentatively at first… and then more firmly.

Things rather took off from that point. Sandra lying herself across Mr Canton’s lap so he could make a more studied examination of the damage still evident from Benfield’s cane. In that position, with Mr Canton’s hand making a most detailed examination, Sandra felt what could only be a firm and large erection beneath her. Lifting her weight slightly she reached underneath to take it boldly in her hand.

Yes, once you had got started with Mr Canton he wasn’t shy at all. For instance, he didn’t object at all to Sandra unzipping his slacks and taking it out. A heady, dizzy feeling having his hot engorged flesh in her hand. She commenced to pump it.

In really no time at all she had jerked Mr Canton off.

Afterwards she said, ‘I hope I don’t get sent to the Head for this. Or get another of those canings from Benfield.’

Mr Canton, grinning, said, ‘No! I shouldn’t think so!’