Slippery Wet Bottoms

From Blushes 91, with Vicky Maxwell and her sister.

Two blonde teenage girls are standing, feet wide apart and arms akimbo, facing the wall of a house. They have white blindfold bandages tied round their heads, but otherwise they are quite nude. Their shapely bodies are slick with water — as if they have just been swimming nude, or perhaps had water sprayed on them.

The two nude blondes are English schoolgirls on an exchange visit to Germany. They have committed a serious breach of regulations and are consequently being punished. To one side stands a man, also partially stripped off, with a broad leather tawse in his hand.

Herr Richter said. ‘I have to treat this very seriously. Make an example I think. Maybe I will send you both home!’

Alison and Sandra both gave desperate squeals. The two pretty blonde English girls were certainly in a desperate situation. It was only the third day of their two-week school German exchange, here in this attractive town of Rimsberg in the Black Forest. And here they were up before the school principal in his rather splendid wood-panelled office. The two of them standing red-faced — and shame-faced! — in front of his desk on this truly awful charge. And clearly Herr Richter was intending to deal with it in an equally awful manner.

They had of course been specifically warned against it. Warned against any fooling about with German boys. It was one of the things Miss Turnuld had particularly stressed before she caught the train back. Always remember to be polite and courteous, try and get some work done, especially of course the language and… definitely no involvement with local boys. A couple of girls had giggled, but they had all said dutifully ‘Yes Miss Turnuld.’

Right afterwards Helen Singley had said, ‘Where are these boys. Lead me to them!’ They had all laughed, but it was only a joke. Neither Helen nor any of the others had really thought about boys. But then somehow Alison and Sandra… it had happened without them really thinking about it. Anders and Klaus, both of them 17, the same age as the two girls. Chatting and joking with them, because they were both nice, attractive boys. And then somehow agreeing to go out with them yesterday afternoon. A picnic in the edge of the nearby forest.

And out there in that pretty little clearing in the trees the awful thing had happened. Both girls. Kissing and cuddling initially, Alison and Anders, Sandra with Klaus. But with too much wine drunk one thing leading to another. Leading eventually to the two pretty English girls going the whole way. Their knickers coming off… and both engaging in sexual intercourse. Alison fucking Anders. And Sandra likewise on another blanket a few yards away fucking Klaus.

The girls had felt awful afterwards. When the boys had finished and they themselves had sobered up from their incautious consumption of wine. They felt awful, but hopefully everything would be alright. Hopefully they would not get pregnant. Fortunately for both Alison and Sandra it had been their safe period for fucking, because in each case there had been full penetrative intercourse with both boys coming inside them and no protection used.

And also no one would know because of course the boys wouldn’t tell. The other girls in the group wouldn’t know. Herr Richter and the other German teachers wouldn’t know. And nor of course would anyone back in England, their mothers or their boyfriends back home. So… it would be alright. And naturally Alison and Sandra had no intention of doing it again.

But unfortunately it wasn’t alright. A certain lady, Frau Spriegel who taught History, had seen to that. Frau Spriegel with those small sharp eyes behind rimless spectacles had suspected something. She had covertly followed the foursome out into the forest — and those ferrety eyes had watched it all. The initial jokey foreplay. The wine. And then the more serious business. Both girls sliding off their knickers… and the boys climbing on top of them. On top and between those slackly open pale thighs.

Hannah Spriegel’s glasses had got quite steamy in her excitement. Watching the rhythmic and unmistakable thrustings. She had watched until the boys had finished, and then slunk away. To go immediately to Herr Richter and primly relate all she had seen.

----//----

‘Please don’t send us home!’ Alison begged, briefly meeting Herr Richter’s stern eyes and then dropping her own gaze to the carpet. Sandra chimed in with a similar refrain. ‘We… We just…’

But it was not easy to think of any convincing argument of mitigation when apparently you had been observed to take your knickers off and then openly and of your own volition engage in the full procreative act. There was not much point trying to make out that the boys had forced them. Not if that wretched Frau Spriegel had seen. Then Alison remembered the wine.

‘It… It was the wine Herr Richter. We are not used to drinking it and… it must have gone to our heads.’

Yes the wine! Sandra nodded in eager agreement. Well it was something.

But Herr Richter did not seem impressed. ‘No one I think was forcing you to drink. Or am I incorrect.’

However Arthur Richter in fact felt no strong impulse to send the girls home. Hannah Spriegel might be pleased with that punishment but no one else would gain any satisfaction from it. Certainly he himself could think of other ways of dealing with this undoubted serious breach of discipline. Yes, for such pretty, and lovely-shaped girls… there were much more satisfying punishments.

‘I think perhaps I should speak to each of you separately. In this very serious matter. One of you will please wait outside while I speak to the other. Shall we say Fraulein Bayfield for the first interview?’

Sandra went numbly out. What was going to happen? But at least if he was going to pack them off home right away he would have said that to both of them together. Unless Herr Richter just wanted to play out the agony. Oh Christ! Why had they done it! And as for that bloody bitch Frau Spriegel.

----//----

Now with Alison alone Herr Richter got straight to the point. ‘We do have other punishments here in Germany. We have beatings. The leather strap or the birch. For a very serious offence such as this, a vigorous beating of the culprit’s nude flesh. The back or the bottom.’ Then adding with relish, ‘Perhaps the backs of the thighs.’

Herr Richter had got up from his desk now to stand beside Alison. He slid his arm lightly round her slim waist and she gave a shuddering little gasp. At his words, though, rather than the gently gripping arm. A beating! But that would mean not being sent home?

Herr Richter, squeezing Alison’s pliant waist, confirmed that this was so. ‘We would need to keep the matter confidential however. Because normally a girl must be sent home for such an offence. It would be my personal decision not to do so. So there would have to be nothing said. I can ensure that Frau Spiegel does not speak. And I am sure also the boys. So it would remain for you and Fraulein Monders to undertake to say nothing. Nothing of engaging in sexual intercourse and nothing of the beating which you then accepted with a free choice.’

‘Yes!’ Alison hissed breathlessly. This beating, however awful, had to be better than being sent home. She could feel her heart pounding. It was a huge relief… even though it might be pretty dreadful. ‘Yes Herr Richter. Danke…’

Then she became aware that his hand had slipped down. Herr Richter’s hand was now on the ripe fullness of her bottom. Cupping the nearside cheek in the palm of his hand. She shifted slightly. Unhappy with the hand… but not wishing to disrupt matters. This confidential arrangement which Herr Richter might after all decide wasn’t on, they must indeed be sent home.

The hand didn’t go away. It remained there, firmly cupping Alison’s bottom-cheek. Herr Richter said, ‘I shall carry out the punishments tomorrow afternoon. At my house. And now something else Fraulein. I must check first. Now, this afternoon. Please lower your undergarment. Your panties.’

What? Alison thought at first she had misunderstood. No, Herr Richter did want her to take her knickers down. To check… what? Her bottom?

His hand was still there. It was fondling her bottom. Groping her you could say — except that Herr Richter wouldn’t be groping her bottom, would he? ‘Do we understand Fraulein that you agree to your bottom being strapped? And we are speaking of your bare bottom. With your dress removed and the panties removed also.’

‘Y… Yes… Herr Richter.’

‘Then I repeat I now need you to lower your panties. It is necessary that I carry out a check.’

Was there an excited quaver in the principal’s voice? His face slightly ruddier in hue? To go with what could only really be described as the groping which was still going on at Alison’s rear. These thoughts entered Alison’s head — but the over-riding thought was that whatever Herr Richter’s motives, having her bottom strapped was preferable to being sent home. Even if as it seemed the prospect was the definitely daunting one of having it on the bare.

So… she stepped away from him. She could do that now, because she was going to take her knickers down. Her head spinning a bit, as her hands slid up under the skirt of her dress. Conscious of Herr Richter’s hotly staring eyes. Yes he was getting involved in this, but she had to do it. Gripping her knickers and working them down under her dress. Until they were halfway down her thighs.

‘Yes Alison? Your panties… are lowered. Your bottom is now bare?’

‘Y… Yes…’ she breathed.

He moved close in. One hand holding her waist again, and his right hand sliding up under her skirt. Alison felt her heart thudding. The hand moving up past the lowered knickers. Up one bared thigh… and onto her bare bottom. The hand felt electric, red-hot. Although it was nothing really. Nothing certainly to what she had allowed Anders yesterday. Anders’s hot hands… and then his hot stiff penis… But still, this hand of Herr Richter was making her feel almost faint.

It was softly squeezing and stroking. Caressing the warm bare flesh. Herr Richter’s breathing was undoubtedly elevated too. His voice breathy, undoubtedly excited: ‘There is no reason… why you cannot have it beaten Fraulein?’

Alison heard herself stutter no. Shaking her head.

Outside, in the ante room, Sandra wondered what was happening. The interview seemed to be taking a long time. Why? But soon presumably it would be over. And then it would be her own turn.

----//----

After classes Herr Richter picks them up in his Mercedes. The other English girls have gone back to the families they are staying with but today Alison and Sandra have this other appointment. Herr Richter picking them up at the agreed place where they are unlikely to be seen, to drive them out to his residence which is an old farmhouse just out in the country. When they arrive he shows them to a bedroom. They are to take all their clothes off and put on just these garments. Herr Richter indicates two pairs of skimpy white knickers which have been placed on the bed. They can keep their shoes on (light white canvas slip-ons) but otherwise he wants them in just the knickers. When they are ready they are to go downstairs. He will be waiting for them in the yard at the rear of the house.

They have both had a dreadful 24 hours since being up before Herr Richter yesterday. Those awful interviews! Because Sandra got just the same as Alison. The instruction to take down her knickers so that Herr Richter could ‘check’. Then the hand up her skirt, groping her bared bottom. And finally being made to bend over his desk for a further, more intensive groping. It is pretty clear from those equally unpleasant ordeals (and they have compared unhappy notes) that Herr Richter is going beyond the bounds of simple discipline. Because what could he have been ‘checking’ for? And there is no answer, it was simply an excuse to fondle and grope their nude bottoms. But of course there is nothing they can do, any complaint is quite out of the question under the circumstances.

So inevitably the last 24 hours have been filled with foreboding. And that foreboding is not at all lessened by what they are told in the little bedroom. To take off all their clothes and put on just these skimpy briefs.

Alison, red-faced, goes to glance out of the window. We could say… we aren’t going to take anything too awful.’

But they both know it is a cry in the dark. Herr Richter holds all the cards. He has the whip hand, if that is not too unfortunate a metaphor.

‘Come on,’ Sandra says.

Outside they find Herr Richter has now also changed from his dark grey suit, into shorts and an open-necked shirt. It is a warm afternoon but Alison and Sandra are both feeling shivery. Shivery and also highly embarrassed. The white briefs are semi-transparent and of course everything else is fully on display. They are each especially conscious of their nude tits, as Herr Richter tells them to stand against the wall. Their nude and jiggling tits… and both girls’ nipples are stiffening, from the fresh air and the embarrassment. They desperately want to cover their tits. But Herr Richter sharply tells them to stand straight. With their arms at their sides.

‘What you English girls badly need is discipline!’

And then he tells Alison to hold out her hand. Right hand, open palm up. His words barking out. Herr Richter has a heavy leather tawse in his hand now and it is clear what he is going to do. Alison makes a whimpering sound.

The order is barked out again… and this time she does it. Seconds later she yells out in agony. The tawse has cracked down.

He tells her to hold out her left hand. Alison yelps, ’No… ooo! Please!’ But finally does. The tawse slices down again.

As Alison whimpers in agony it is Sandra’s turn.

----//----

They fight to hold back the tears. To handle the pain. The burning pain in their hands.

‘That was just a start,’ Herr Richter tells them. ‘Six on each hand, that is what I should give you. Six of the best you say in England?’

They make weakly whimpering sounds. But Herr Richter does not pursue that quite impossible suggestion. Not for the moment at least. He comes in close. He has put the tawse down and has both hands free. His hands take hold of Sandra’s trembling nude tits. A whimpering yelp as he squeezes them.

‘I am going to have you both with eyes covered for the next part. So you girls will not see what is coming next. I think that will be more interesting to you. Yes?’

His hands continue to squeeze Sandra’s tits a bit longer and then he moves to Alison. To take hold of hers. She yelps. The tit-squeezing is horrible — but both girls are more concerned with what he has said. Covering their eyes! Blindfolds?

Herr Richter does mean blindfolds. From his pocket he produces a broad length of white cloth. He folds it to make a thick light-tight strip which he then puts up to Alison’s eyes. He turns her, and ties the two ends tightly round her blonde head. Alison staggers slightly, and emits a panicky yelp. She can’t see! Not a thing. Chuckling, Herr Richter gives her tits another little squeeze… and then moves over to Sandra.

Sandra gets the same treatment. The sensation is frightening. Disorientation. Not knowing where they are exactly. And not knowing what is coming. What is Herr Richter doing now? And then they know. As a hard jet of cold water suddenly drenches them!

‘Aaarraaaagghh…!!’ ‘Aaiieeeeeggh…!!’

They stagger blindly about. Not knowing which way to turn as the dreadful cold spray keeps coming. The shock of it is unbelievable! In seconds they are soaking wet! The skimpy knickers clinging like second skins to their desperately writhing bodies.

Herr Richter’s mocking voice from out there, beyond their now-dripping blindfolds. ‘Is it nice! Do these undisciplined English girls like to be wet!’

At last he turns it off. They are gasping for breath. It is absolutely diabolical. Like an awful nightmare! They can see nothing, and they are soaking wet! And freezing!

Herr Richter moves in close, grabbing their arms. ‘Stand still! And straight again!’ His hands close on Alison’s blindfold, checking, it. ‘These coverings must stay tightly in place.’ He laughs. ‘I may have more little surprises for you girls!’

His hands move from the blindfold to fondle Alison’s slippery wet tits. Then he moves to Sandra. The same for her. Checking her blindfold for tightness. And then a play with her slick wet tits.

‘OK. Good so far eh? Now I want the panties off. Please take them off and quickly! Or do we wish more of the water treatment?’

With frantic little whimpers their hands move to the clinging wet knickers. Fumbling at the wet nylon, each of them fearing that sudden and shocking water spray again.

‘Good! Are we perhaps learning a little discipline? But much too late of course.’

They are standing quite nude now. Nude and dripping wet. Conscious behind their blindfolds that now they are showing Herr Richter their pussies as well as their nude tits. But standing straight because they don’t want that diabolical spray.

‘OK. And now we shall have the strap. The water has a good effect. It will protect the flesh from any injury but also allows good transfer of the stroke. So there is very good pain felt.’

Alison hears a little sob from Sandra. She is beginning to cry. Alison steels herself because she is also close to tears and hearing Sandra could set her off. She doesn’t want to cry.

‘Turn round!’ Herr Richter’s voice barks. ‘Face the wall. Your hands flat on it with arms spread apart. Also the legs spread wide.’

Side by side they do as they are told. Sandra is certainly crying now, with irregular blubbing noises. Alison herself is very close to it. And when that leather strap lands for the first time on her wet bottom… she won’t be able to hold it back. She knows Herr Richter is going to really whip it in. He had that look: that greedy, sadistic look. He wants to really hurt them. And all the rest: the blindfolds, that dreadful water. All of it together to make a terrifying nightmare. To terrify them… for Herr Richter’s enjoyment. His sadistic pleasure.

CRACKKK…!!

Oh Christ! Alison gives a frantic, devastated howl. Herr Richter has started with her. The fiendish tawse slicing into the slippery wet ripeness of her nates. Oh God! Her bottom clenching, writhing. With the sickening pain. The pain is too much. She can’t take another… like that… But.

CRACKKK…!! It slices in again.

----//----

The next day Alison sees Anders. By chance in the corridor at school. She was not wanting to see him, because any feeling she had for the German boy is now finished. That business at Herr Richter’s yesterday has seen to that.

Anders grins. ‘OK Alison? Everything alright?’ She says a muted yes. Although of course everything is not alright. Far from it.

Anders continues, ‘So Herr Richter decided to do nothing, eh? Really good of him I would say.’

Alison looks blank. Also perhaps a little numb.

‘Yes. Klaus and I had to see him, but just a little talk. He said we would say no more about it. And you and Sandra would be the same. No punishments or anything, in particular as you are our guests. Frau Spriegel is being ordered to say nothing.’ Anders laughed. ‘Youthful indiscretions, Herr Richter says.’

Alison is struck dumb. For one thing Herr Richter is not finished with her and Sandra. He wants them round at his house again tomorrow. For more of the same. Or maybe worse.

Anders says, ‘So shall we… have another date?’