Room 2D

Final part of a Guardians’ Club three-parter from Blushes 9, following on from  Curiouser and Curiouser . Also following up the fate of Charlotte from  The Club . ‘Where are you taking me?’ ‘That, Miss Charlotte, I am not allowed to reveal,’ replied the elderly peak-capped man driving a rather ancient, musty-smelling Rover. ‘Strict orders from your Uncle Dennis.’ Charlotte pouted angrily but, at the same time, felt a pang of nervous apprehension. She knew that some other girl would be staying with her guardian over the weekend whilst she was to be transferred into the care of a member of this strange, but secret and powerful, organisation which Uncle Dennis had somehow managed to join. It was all very disturbing but it seemed best to go along with it. For the time being anyway. That spanking she had got from her Guardian earlier in the week still lingered hotly in her memory. It had gone on and on and on, until she had thought

Second part of a Guardians’ Club three-parter from Blushes 9, following on from  First Impressions . ‘Did you check up, Harry?’ The headmaster has checked, but he consults a note in his desk diary anyway. ‘Yes — Philip Barclay. No relation to the girl, apparently. He’s on the board of a charitable institution — something to do with a couple of insurance companies putting a bit of money where it’ll enhance their public image and where the tax man can’t get at it, apparently.’ ‘Interesting —’ ‘Yes — I imagine that’s where the girl came from — some Benevolent Society Academy, I believe. That’s how Barclay would have got his hands on her, I dare say. Don’t know if he’s actually her legal guardian — bit irregular if he were, but then it all seems a bit irregular anyway.’ ‘Curiouser and curiouser —’ ‘Yes. All I know apart from that is that she’s here, at the school; there’s nothing on the file to shed any more light on the matter,

First of a Guardians’ Club three-parter from Blushes 9 Afternoon break; suddenly a whistle is blown and every girl within earshot stops in her tracks and turns toward the sound. ‘P’, shouts a tall man in an academic gown standing outside the rear entrance to the school building. Perhaps a dozen of the girls run to the man and form up in an orderly line in front of him. ‘Parkinson!’ Sarah starts, not knowing anything about anything at this disconcerting place. She takes a step or two towards the sound of her name then stops, unsure if it’s her who is wanted. ‘Run!’ says a guarded voice behind her. Run! But which way? To the man, of course. Sarah half walks and half jogs towards the little impromptu parade. ‘Come  on , girl!’ Sarah runs at last. She tags on to the end of the line and feels rather sick with apprehension of she knows not what. The man turns and strides up the steps into the school and the lined-up girls follow h