Room 2D

Story with an iconic photo set, from Blushes 47 The room is brightly lit from unshaded, starkly functional bulbs suspended from the ceiling. There is no natural light for the room’s window is shuttered to blank off anything of the outside world. To blank off also perhaps from anyone who might be out there what is inside this brightly-lit room. What is in the room apart from its bright lights is not a lot in the way of furniture. A splay-legged wooden trestle or horse in the centre and near one wall a high, round-topped stool also of plain wood. That is it. The cream painted walls are devoid of any decoration and the floor is of bare boards. There is one human occupant also present in this room. A girl: a pretty blonde, of above average height and very well built. There can be no doubt as to this latter fact because of her clothes, or rather the lack of them. Standing next to the stool she is, wearing only a pair of ultra-skin-tigh...

From New Blushes 2.20 ‘Hello Fiona.’ ‘Hello sir.’ She closes the door quietly behind her, then goes to stand at attention in front of Mr Brunton’s desk. It is five o’clock, after normal school hours, but school hasn’t finished for Fiona Daltry. It is time for a special training session with Mr Brunton. Henry Brunton, fiftyish and with his bald head and round glasses giving him a somewhat owlish look, is in charge of the school WRAF Cadet Unit. It is an active group because St Monica’s has the RAF Western Command Headquarters just a few miles away and quite a few of the staff send their daughters to the school. Service officers are keen to have proper discipline for their daughters. Well-trained girls make decorous, disciplined young women, the kind of young women a fellow officer will be happy to have as a wife. So the school’s Cadet Unit is well supported. And Henry Brunton you could say has a pretty free hand in disciplining...

From Uniform Girls 1 Group Captain Brian Marshall’s office was to say the least, sparsely furnished. However, he liked it that way. His desk was bare but for his diary and a single sheet of paper. In front of his desk was a plain wooden chair; on the wall facing him hung a mirror. In this the Group Captain could see himself reflected. Vanity? Possibly… but the mirror had been there when he had arrived on the station and he had never bothered to have it removed. Now he looked into that mirror, seeing a head which was steadily balding and a face somewhat lined after twenty four years in the Royal Air Force — ever since he was twenty. One year to go before he could take retirement and a nice fat gratuity. But would he do that? Now, having risen steadily through the ranks to become a Station Commander, with his highly respectable rank, there were quite a number of perks which he would surely miss in civilian life. Like Flight Lieu...