Room 2D

The Women’s Cricket World Cup kicks off today and to mark the occasion here is a sporting tale from Uniform Girls 6 ‘Good luck then, Shona. I am as you know expecting great things of the team this year.’ Miss Cartwright rose to her feet and Shona Ashford got up as well. The coffee session, the little tête-à-tête with the Head, was evidently over. ‘Yes, Miss Cartwright, I… er… I hope we will.’ The Headmistress raised her eyebrows. ‘Hope, Shona? I expect more than hope. I expect results; and I imagine that Mr Kirby will  ensure  we get them.’ ‘Yes, Miss Cartwright,’ said Shona, exiting, somewhat red in the face. At 18 she was a big girl and a pretty one, short blonde hair and clean attractive features, tall and sturdily built with solid but shapely thighs and buttocks, not to mention big firm breasts. The sturdy but shapely buttocks seemed to be tingling slightly as she walked down the corridor from the Head’s office,...

A vintage classic A featured ad from Roué 21 announcing its release: It’s a bit like Russian Roulette at St Angela’s. I mean, you just never know when it’s going to be your turn — the only thing you  do  know is that it is going to be your turn again pretty soon, ‘cos a girl can get herself into trouble even by blowing her nose in a funny way around here! Dumb insolence is always a ‘last resort’ excuse if a teacher really wants to get your pants down. They almost always  do  take your knickers down, of course, and apparently that’s perfectly alright because we’re all over 16 here, which they say makes it OK, though I can’t quite follow the logic myself. A girl can catch it from any member of staff (even the caretaker, though no-one’s too sure whether he’s  really  s’posed to spank us), but the very worst thing is being on Headmaster’s four o’clock report. You have to hang about down in the Old Hall...

From Blushes 14 with Lucie Martin There was the accustomed high-pitched whistling sound as the cane blurred through the air. It bit deep into the soft, naked bottom awaiting it. For a fraction of a second, it seemed to bury itself deep. Then it arced away, leaving behind a miniature tramline of pink-red pain. It was the first stroke of a promised twelve. William Clifford, Senior Master at St Osith’s, contemplated the weal with mingled satisfaction and regret. Sonia Benson, who was bending over before him, fingers to toes, should have been his star pupil… a front-runner for University Honours. Instead she was graded in the lower half of the Fifth Remove. He noted that the girl had only jerked up momentarily, emitting a brief, breathless gasp, before returning to her straight-legged bending posture. There was no doubt that the Benson family bred their girls both tough and obstinate. William Clifford recalled readily to mind So...