Re-orientation Weekend

From Uniform Girls 49

‘Eat up,’ Andrew Sibley said to his daughter. ‘You’ll probably be on bread and water for all the weekend.’

Pretty 17-year-old Sophie made a face at him across the dining table. It was Friday tea time. Marjorie, her mother said, ‘Don’t tease, Andrew.’

‘And not be sitting down for it either,’ he went on. ‘Standing up to eat it because your bottom will be too sore to sit on.’

‘Andrew!’ Marjorie scolded. ‘There’s no need to go on. You might show a little sympathy.’

Sophie pursed her full lips. Her face had gone pink. Her brother, 15-year-old Danny, eyes gleaming, said, ‘Boy I’d like to watch it! With her knickers down I bet!’

With a blurted expletive Sophie swung an arm out at him, which Danny parried.

‘Calm down Sophie!’ Their father ordered sharply. ‘Or I just might do a bit of it myself. You’ve only yourself to blame. And hopefully the experience will do you some good.’

Sophie gave her brother a wait-till-I-get-you look. After the meal she did make another attempt to get a proper blow in — but Danny was now big enough to handle Sophie and was able to block her attempted punch without too much trouble. And also in the process, to add insult to injury, get in some gropes at Sophie’s big, shapely tits. Danny had unfortunately reached the stage of liking to do that. As they grappled he repeated his taunt. ‘Do you think he’s going to have your knickers down Soph? I bet he will! I bet old Finford’ll have them right off.’

Tomorrow morning Sophie and her friend Nicola had to go round to the Deputy Head, Mr Finford’s house. To stay all day Saturday, Saturday night and then Sunday as well. For what Mr Finford termed a ‘re-orientation weekend’. What it was in fact was a punishment weekend. The two girls had each amassed a total of 10 demerits for various shortcomings in the last several weeks. And the punishment for that… was a weekend with Mr Finford.

A re-orientation weekend was not something a girl was going to enjoy. She was going to be kept working, in the house and in Mr Finford’s garden. Housework plus outside weeding, digging maybe. Kept working all the time, without a break.

But that wasn’t strictly accurate. She wouldn’t be working all the time. Because some of the time she would be being caned. Or tawsed. Both probably.

Yes, Sophie’s father (and brother) weren’t joking. Mr Finford used the cane and the tawse on girls he ‘entertained’ for the weekend. Only girls. Boys who were in need of ‘re-orientation’ were taken by Mr Paxton, PE Master, on an exhausting weekend of cross-country hiking. They were pushed to their limits but there was no caning. Caning was reserved for girls. Only Sixth Form girls, not younger ones, and of course only Sixth Form girls who needed this salutary treatment.

But… Mr Finford could bend the rules a little bit. Or so it seemed. In the matter of handing out demerits. It seemed sometimes that it was the good-looking ones who got the demerits. That was certainly how it seemed to Sophie and her friend Nicola Hayden, who were of course both very attractive girls. They had got demerits when some other girls were getting away with murder, or so they thought.

They had both complained to their parents, but it hadn’t done much good, it hadn’t altered anything. Both their mothers had been sympathetic, especially of course at the thought of the cane. Because it was generally known that Mr Finford used a cane. He made no secret of it, it was made quite clear at those parent-teacher meetings at school. The cane was a very useful stimulus and also deterrent for an older girl. A girl’s parents were told that and had to agree. But mothers, naturally, with their maternal instinct, when it came right down to it were not at all happy when it was their own Sophie or Nicola.

Fathers could take a more robust attitude. As Andrew Sibley and Alec Hayden had. It would do their girls no harm to get the cane across their bottoms. And very probably Sophie and Nicola had been slack about handing in work and the various other things they had got demerits for. They didn’t want to hear that other girls had maybe been even worse and got away with it. Sophie and Nicola would say that, wouldn’t they?

Their boyfriends were sympathetic of course. Sophie’s Kevin and Nicola’s James. Naturally the thought of Mr Finford having the girls for the weekend for the purpose of caning their bottoms was something which made them feel a bit sick. That dirty sod! And yes, Kevin and James were certainly of the opinion that Mr Finford was deliberately picking on the best-looking girls. But of course what Kevin and James thought wasn’t going to change things one little bit.

Sophie saw Kevin that Friday evening. With the dread weekend visit now only hours away. Round at Kevin’s house sitting in front of the TV set she complained that her family had been awful. Well her father and brother anyway, saying nasty things. Kevin was most sympathetic. For one thing he was very horny. He had an exceedingly stiff prick in his trousers as he sat on the sofa with Sophie, and with his parents out there was the possibility of doing something with it. Specifically of getting it up Sophie. If he could get her in the mood to agree. Sophie frequently wouldn’t, she didn’t really think they should do it, or so she said. But tonight, with what was to come tomorrow making her fraught and anxious, he thought he had a good chance.

Unfortunately for Kevin it didn’t work out that way. Sophie said she definitely wasn’t in the mood. Not after her father and Danny had been so awful, and even more of course with what she and Nicola were going to get tomorrow. The cane! The thought of it made Sophie feel quite sick. And it was the cane and the tawse! Mr Finford seemed to like using both, by all accounts. The thought of either of those implements searing their bottoms… And their bare bottoms! Because that, again by all accounts, was what it was.

There was only one other little thing. Sophie had been told by another girl… that she had heard you could avoid the cane and tawse on one of these weekends. By agreeing to you-know-what. If you let Mr Finford have that he might let you off the cane (and the tawse). If you let Mr Finford screw you. Sophie didn’t know if she could believe this. She wasn’t sure she wanted to believe it. Which was worse — just supposing Mr Finford did offer such a choice? Sophie didn’t want to answer that question. Didn’t even want to think about it.

But anyway with all of this, all these things in her head, Sophie just wasn’t in any mood to agree to what Kevin wanted. They got into a bit of an argument about it, with Sophie accusing him of not being interested in her, only in that. The argument got worse if anything. Sophie got up, and said she was going home.

At home Sophie went straight to bed although it wasn’t late, saying she was tired and refusing her mother’s offer of a cup of cocoa. She felt close to tears; quarrelling with Kevin like that being the last straw. In bed Sophie started playing with herself right away, because she really needed the relief. Her fingers urgently in her wet pussy. She conjured a sensuous fantasy. A really rich sheik, quite young and very handsome, coming to the school. Touring the school and seeing her — and right away deciding he had to have her. He wanted her to come on his really fabulous yacht, for a two-week cruise. To get her parents’ agreement he gave them a cheque for half a million pounds — to be put in trust for her, Sophie, of course.

On this really fab yacht cruising smoothly in the warm Mediterranean night. In its cosy soft-lit lounge, just the two of them naturally, he pulled open his red silk dressing gown and showed her his big stiff prick.

----//----

Sophie arrived at Mr Finford’s right on time, 10 o’clock, driven by her father and carrying a small overnight bag. Nicola had got there minutes earlier. Sophie’s dad went off and the two girls were left with Mr Finford in his lounge.

Adrian Finford eyed them, perhaps a bit like a cat presented with a bowl of cream. Both girls were in school uniform, as he always stipulated for these weekend visits. White blouses and their blue-and-black striped ties and short box-pleated navy skirts which showed a good deal of both girls’ shapely legs.

Yes Sophie and Nicola were two girls he had been most keen to have on a re-orientation weekend. Sophie with her luxuriant chestnut locks curling down around her shoulders, and Nicola with her ash-blonde hair tied in two bunches; and both of them with those firm, full tits pushing out the fronts of their blouses. Both also with full, womanly bottoms under their skirts! It was those bottoms of course that Adrian Finford was going to have some early interest in. Bottoms which were no doubt even now flinching at the prospect.

The Deputy Head smiled — and from somewhere, like a magician, suddenly had a cane in his hand. Long and thin and whippy. An extremely nasty-looking cane. He sliced it through the air — causing two sharp intakes of breath.

‘Now girls, I hope both of you are ready to start your day. I certainly am.’ The cane sliced briskly through the air again.

‘We are going to do some work outside first of all. Or rather you two girls are. There’s quite a lot of seeding I need doing. But right at the very beginning of the proceedings, even before that, I am going to use my Mr Tickler here. Sophie you first. Hold out your right hand, palm up. I shall give you two on your right and then same on your left. To get you properly in the spirit of things. OK? And then it’ll be Nicola’s turn of course.’

Both of them had gone pale. Sophie breathed, ‘No! Pl…Please Mr Finford! Not… not…’

‘No nots,’ Mr Finford said briskly. He reached round behind Sophie and groped the cheeks of her bottom through her skirt. ‘Don’t worry, you’ll get it on your bottom soon enough. But hands first.’ Another greedy grope. ‘Now get your hand out right away — or do you perhaps want six on each of them?’

With a little sob Sophie forced herself to hold her hand out. Adrian Finford had come round in front of her again. His eyes were gleaming. He had got an erection, bulging out the front of his trousers. Neither girl had noticed this though. Like rabbits hypnotised by a weasel their two pairs of eyes were fixed on the cane… and Sophie’s now trembling palm-up hand…

There was a sickening THWATT… as the cane whipped down and met the shivering flesh. An agonised howl from Sophie — and at the same time a shocked little yip from Nicola.

Sophie was doubled up, clutching her red-hot hand. Adrian Finford moved round behind her again. His hands pulling her upright. At the same time thrusting his hot and erect penis into her bottom.

‘Just compose yourself my dear. It’s all for your own good, you know that.’ Sophie was still making desperate gasping sounds. Mr Finford’s hands came round further, and cupped underneath her ripe tits as he rubbed himself hard against her bottom again. Then he let go, and took up the cane again.

Nicola watched with frantic eyes. She didn’t want to watch but she couldn’t help it. As the cane seared down again… and then again. Poor Sophie! But she wasn’t really thinking of poor Sophie. It was herself! In a few moments… she was going to get the same. And she couldn’t. She just couldn’t take that… That sickening cane… Those bright red marks now across Sophie’s palms… She couldn’t take that. But she was going to have to.

----//----

Upstairs now, in one of the bedrooms. A medium-sized room with a bed with a blue-and-white striped cover and by the side of the bed a low leather-topped table. On this table is a small bronze statue of a nude girl kneeling back on her heels, her head submissively bent, her hands between her parted thighs. And by the side of this statue is Mr Finford’s cane.

On the bed Nicola is kneeling in exactly the same posture as the bronze statue. Nude and sitting on her heels with her hands down between her parted thighs demurely covering her pussy Her head is bent, which serves to emphasise her full high tits thrusting up and out.

The door behind Nicola opens into a bathroom. Sophie and Mr Finford are to be seen in this bathroom. Mr Finford is sitting on the edge of the mahogany-panelled bath and he has Sophie across his lap, face-down. Sophie is also nude. Mr Finford is vigorously spanking her nude bottom. Sophie is making gaspy yelps, and his hand rhythmically whacks down. But of course the pain is not as bad as earlier, that very first introduction to the day. The cane whipped sickeningly in across her hands. That cane which is now placed at Nicola’s side in the bedroom. No doubt it is due to see more action quite soon.

Nicola cannot see the action in the bathroom but she can hear quite clearly. The sound of the hard smacks, and Sophie’s yelpy gasps And then after a bit… it seems to be just the gasps.

----//----

Since that first traumatic caning of their hands Sophie and Nicola have spent most of the time out in the garden weeding. Mr Finford has generally been in close attendance — with the cane in his hand. Whipping it in when he considered either girl was not putting quite enough enthusiasm into the task. (And also, to be strictly honest, just whipping the cane in, across a calf, or the rear of a soft thigh, or lifting a skirt to lay it athwart a tightly-knickered bottom, simply because the fancy or desire took him.)

That lasted for quite a long time. Forever, it seemed like to Sophie and Nicola but actually it was just the rest of the morning. Then they had some lunch; not quite the bread and water Sophie’s father had been predicting, it was soup and sandwiches which the girls were detailed to prepare. Mr Finford had the same, plus a gin-and-tonic beforehand which he had Sophie bring in to him in the sitting room while Nicola was busy in the kitchen.

When Sophie brought the drink in Mr Finford told her to put it down on the side table, then with her standing close at his side he gave her a little lecture on proper behaviour, what was required of you in the Sixth Form, etc. Soon after the beginning of this he slid his hand up the back of her skirt. Up those smoothly rounded thighs, to Sophie’s bottom contained in her tight white knickers. And then accompanied his unctuous words with some keen bottom-groping.

After a few minutes of this Mr Finford evidently got quite a taste for what he was doing, and decided that matters could be improved. He broke off his lecture to tell Sophie to take her knickers off. Sophie didn’t fancy taking them off — but then she hadn’t fancied having her hand caned, or subsequently having the cane whipping in to various other parts of her anatomy when she was doing that weeding. You didn’t fancy these things, but you weren’t supposed to fancy what happened when you went to Mr Finford for the weekend. So although Sophie didn’t want to take her knickers off she knew she had to.

Mr Finford’s hand of course immediately came back to where it had been before. Up Sophie’s skirt to her now nude bottom. Stroking and fondling the warm and silkily resilient flesh. And then sliding down underneath. His hand pushing Sophie’s trembling thighs apart so it could slide in between them. Mr Finford’s little lecture conveniently moved on to the subject of sex — as his fingers found the moist heat of her pussy. Holding forth on the insidious dangers of indulging in sex, the unfortunate grip it could get on a girl once she had started indulging. The most unfortunate effect it could have on her work.

Sophie was having difficulty standing still now, because Mr Finford’s fingers were right there. In the wetness of her slit. At her hot clit. Mr Finford was now onto the subject of her and Kevin. Oh yes, the Deputy Head knew that Sophie and Kevin Parker had a relationship. He knew most things that went on in the school. But he didn’t know all the details of course. And he would like to know them. Exactly what… and how often.

Mr Finford’s fingers were working on Sophie as he put these insistent questions. Working her up, and a girl couldn’t help responding, when someone was doing that. And you couldn’t stop him doing it, you had to just stand there, quivering and squirming, and take it. Because it was Mr Finford doing it. Yes Sophie was responding, she was going to come…

But then no. Mr Finford stopped just before that. Stopping and taking his hand out and giving her bottom a sharp slap. Leaving her in an awful state.

----//----

Mr Finford is doing that again now. Those squeaky gasps that Nicola can hear as she kneels on the bed. The squeaky gasps which continue though there is no longer the reverberating crack of Mr Finford’s hand splatting onto Sophie’s bare bottom. Yes he is doing that again. Getting hot-bottomed Sophie going again.

Can Nicola guess this? Or is she too concerned about her own fate? Because whatever Mr Finford is doing right now, he will shortly be coming in here to her. With his cane lying conveniently to hand. Waiting for him to pick it up. Yes that bloody cane.

But it isn’t the cane when some five minutes later Mr Finford does come in. Has he brought Sophie off? Or has he again just left her on the brink? Bringing the poor girl up to the very brink… and then leaving her there, all panting and desperate. Nicola doesn’t know or care. Her thoughts are only on that cane. But it is not in fact to be the cane — because when Mr Finford comes in he has something else in his hand. A square-tipped length of heavy leather. Yes a vicious-looking tawse.

SPLATT…!

Mr Finford has whipped it sharply in across Nicola’s bare bottom. She lets out a howl. Smiling he tells her, ‘OK, that’s enough of that position. Now I’d like you with your bottom up. And your head down in the cover.’

This is how Mr Finford wants Nicola for the tawsing. Kneeling on the bed and her bottom thrust up, as high as it will go. That position will do nicely. For about ten heavy whacks at least. And then he wants something else. A variation. Now Nicola on her back, with her legs pointing up at the ceiling. Ten more like this shall we say? Yes, why not. And then is it time for the cane again?

No it is not quite time for the cane. It is time for the bath. Adrian Finford is not an excessively hard man. Or so he would have one believe. A little break then, and Sophie can sponge Nicola’s red-hot bottom with soothing warm water containing some gentle sweetly-scented bath oil. And likewise after Sophie has had her own taste of the tawse Nicola can perform the same service for her friend.

But after that there is to be more caning of course. And tomorrow, Sunday, there is going to be a whole lot more of the cane. That is what Mr Finford smilingly tells them.

----//----

Sophie gets the bedroom with the blue-and-white-covered bed and the little statue. Nicola is in another small bedroom. Mr Finford is in his own room.,

Except that now Mr Finford is here, with Sophie. Is it about 11 o’clock? Something like that. Anyway she has been in bed a little while now, lying awake. Thinking about that awful cane and the equally awful tawse. Thinking also about tomorrow which will be another dreadful day of it. Sophie certainly doesn’t want to think about all this but she can’t get it out of her mind. And she can’t get to sleep. There is only one thing for it, which is to do what she did last night. Bring herself off. Her hand slides down to her pussy. Mr Finford of course has done that to her. Twice today. Played with her, but not brought her off. Worked her up to the very brink… and then left her there.

That bloody bastard!

Sophie is just thinking, with her hand at her pussy, that she’ll have that fantasy about the rich sheik again, when… Mr Finford is suddenly there! He has come silently in the room, to sit on the side of the bed.

What does he want? Yes, it is what that girl has told her. Things can be a whole lot easier on the second day. If Sophie wishes. Does she wish? Yes she certainly, fervently does. Even if…? Well yes. Probably. Anything.

Mr Finford is sliding in with her. He has taken off his dressing gown… and has nothing underneath. It is just Mr Finford underneath. With his large and stiff erection. He directs Sophie’s hand to it.

She thinks… of her fantasy. Well it is the easiest thing. She certainly doesn’t want to think of Kevin. No, that rich sheik. In bed in his cabin on the yacht. The sheik on top of her. Rubbing his very big penis at her wet pussy. And then getting it in. Sliding it up.

That half a million pounds. Actually the reward is going to be just as great, she would rather have what Mr Finford is promising. No more cane and tawse tomorrow! If he keeps his word! He is going to keep his word, isn’t he?

Sophie’s breathy voice seeks assurance. Adrian Finford curtly tells her yes. But now keep quiet. While he takes his pleasure.

Later on of course, after a suitable period of recovery, he is going in to see Nicola.