The Minds of First Form Mums
The warm receptions afforded my recent short stories based on some of the characters and ideas of Steve Pervy’s great BDSM novel “It/s All In The Mind” (available on this site as story #4061) have prompted me to write a serial about St. Margaret’s school. You can figure out this serial on its own but it will be more enjoyable of you read a bit of the real Steve Pervy first.
The Rev. E. E. Norcod inhabits a far darker universe than Steve Pervy. Steve’s characters ultimately come to enjoy the unleashing of what are their more base instincts. Norcod’s women are beaten and ‘turn to the dark side’. Those seeking lighthearted fun may not enjoy the following.
Several chapters are concerned with the chastisement of 13 year old girls (Chapter 4) or the recall by a woman of repressed memories of her abuse as a 13 year old girl (Chapter 6). These chapters have been flagged to protect the sensibilities of the more delicate readers. However, I really can’t imagine the sensitive reader eagerly devouring yet another pile of E. E. Norcod’s execrable prose.
A second caveat is in order. This story starts slow. All E. E. Norcod starts slow. In the first chapter there are no spankings, rapes or torture. Just like in real life, you must deal with hopes, anticipation, e-mails and pedantic bullshit. The good stuff will come later.
I hope that those who enjoy the darker side of our nature will be entertained by this tale of how four innocent families are sucked into the maw of Dr Agnes O’Brien’s and Ms Maggie Fletcher’s diabolical scheme.
It’s All In The Head of A First Form Mommy
Kathy Horrigan was thrilled when she got the e-mail at work from Dr. Agnes O’Brien. Her daughter Katie was under final consideration for admission to the St. Margaret’s School. Kathy had gotten precious few breaks in life. Lumbered at fourteen, mother of a baby girl at fifteen, Borstal-bait for peddling dope at sixteen, five years of fighting to get Katie back, struggling to keep a household together. Now, at thirteen Katie had gotten the ticket that Kathy never had. The best girls school in the UK, all expenses paid courtesy of the Fleming Trust. And Kathy at 28, for the first time in her life, might have some breathing room. Next step, tomorrow an interview at the school, a doctor’s appointment, meet the teacher and some of the other girls and their mommies.
Now for the hard part. Kathy had to walk down the hall to her boss’s office and request most of tomorrow off. Her absolute bitch of a boss who never ceased to remind Kathy of her inferior education, of the fact that she was under-qualified for her position, that she was only hanging in there by a thread. That red-headed harridan Mrs. Carroll. Yes Mrs. Carroll, I hope to be in the office by one O’clock. It’s the opportunity of a life time for my daughter. Oh thank you Mrs. Carroll. May the harpy rot in hell.
Kathy Takes Her Daughter to the Doctor’s
The interview with the Headmistress went well. A nice fifteen minute chit chat about the bright future in store for Katie and the absolute importance of home life in her education. High expectations were being placed on Kathy, she would be responsible for the success of Katie’s education.
With that over Kathy and Katie hurried over to the local surgery for entrance physicals. It seemed strange that both of them were required to take physicals, but the place was ultra-professional and Kathy soon began to relax. First they were examined by a nurse, couldn’t quite catch her name. Then they were both given long questionnaires to fill out. The comfy bathrobes were quite the thing. Why didn’t most clinics think of that. The doctor, a nice youngish fellow, David Ritchie, saw them and examined them side by side. Kathy was pleasantly surprised when he saw no reason to do a full pelvic on a thirteen year old. He simply had Katie lie back on the table while Kathy held her legs up and Katie spread her cheeks. A bit of a peek and then Katie could get dressed. Now that was considerate. After Katie was out of the room, Kathy got into the stirrups and the doctor did an internal exam. Nothing much to see but he would wait until he got the results of the Pap test back. The psychologist would be here, in a minute, to see her.
The psychologist was a nice man, Steve Waters. Kathy couldn’t remember much of what they talked about. But afterward she knew she hadn’t been that relaxed in years, maybe forever. And excited about what was going to happen. Actually, Kathy was sort of aroused which was strange. The strain of raising Katie on a limited income had meant very little in the way of pleasure for Kathy recently. In fact, the vibrator was about the only action Kathy had in what must be going on seven years. And although she could bring herself off with it. It wasn’t really all that arousing. Not deep down in the belly thrilling.
Meet The Teacher
Maggie sat down on her desk and looked out at the four moms and their four daughters sitting at the student desks in the classroom. This was one third of Section A of the first form class at St. Margaret’s School. They were hers for the next school year. Hers to shape, hers to form, hers to guide, hers to punish, hers to rule. From her talks with Agnes O’Brien she knew that Steve Waters had done some sort of psychotherapy with the mothers that would make them more responsive to her wishes. But Maggie was unaware of Agnes’s master plan or the roles that David and Steve actually occupied in it. Maggie was also unaware of the programming that Steve had done on her. She was less of an independent agent and more of a slave to Agnes’ whim than she realized.
Maggie talked with the mums and daughters for about 15 minutes. About curriculum, schedules, uniforms, lunches, computers and personal flash drives. And very briefly mentioned was the role of the mothers in the disciplinary system. Almost nothing was said about demerits, corporal punishment in the home and in the school and Saturday morning detentions. That would be covered later, during Friday night sleepovers and after all of Form I, Section A had been through orientation. Then Maggie dismissed the girls to go and get fitted for their uniforms and pick up their books.
Now she would talk with the mothers alone. The mums listened with rapt attention. Partly because their daughters futures were unfolding before them but also because Steve had programmed them for what Maggie was about to say. Soon enough Maggie was talking about discipline in the home and its relationship to school performance. As of today no more cell phones or PDA’s for the girls. She introduced the idea of group weekly reviews of academic progress and behavior. The four of them formed a “Disciplinary Circle”. They would bond together forming a family larger than just simply mum and daughter. That’s what Friday nights were all about. Section A would have three such Circles that would compete with each other. And ultimately Section A would be its own Circle, a family of twelve women and 12 girls. And Maggie would see to it that they were the best in the first form. It was still uncertain how many other sections there would be. There would be at least two others, Section B and Section C. Dr. O’Brien was interviewing candidates for those two sections this week. If there were enough girls, and a suitable teacher could be found there might even be a fourth section, Section D. In the mean time Section A would set up its program in the two months before classes started.
Lastly, she discussed corporal punishment of the girls. Maggie didn’t realize that Steve had done some very detailed programming in this area. She was hesitant about going into details. But as she saw the smiles of recognition on the faces of the mothers, Maggie loosened up and really got into the subject. Maggie’s goal was to have the girls all trained so that by the first day of class discipline would be maintained in her class room. By next week she wanted this Disciplinary Circle to have its first Friday sleepover. And either she or Dr. O’Brien would be there. “Oh yes, and one other thing,” continued the teacher, “Mothers are absolutely responsible for the progress and behavior of their daughters. As the daughters will be subject to discipline so the mothers are subject to discipline.” Such was the success of Steve’s programming that the four mothers, rather than reacting with shock, nodded in agreement. Maggie was amazed and taken a little aback at a reaction diametrically opposite to what she expected. So she went into a bit more detail.
Discipline was going to be much tighter in the first form than in the others. Any time a demerit was given out in the class room, a spanking would also be administered. When a demerit was given the mother would automatically be notified by e-mail. If a girl commits a more serious offense she will be sent to the office. That means a trip to the basement. There the girl would undress and be restrained. A more severe spanking would then be administered. Again, mothers would be advised of the trip to the basement by e-mail. At the Friday night meetings of the Disciplinary Circle, after the weekly review naughty girls would be spanked and sent to bed. Then the mothers of naughty girls would receive their discipline. Five demerits would warrant a Saturday morning detention for both the mother and her daughter. The girl would be caned by her mother. And then the mother would be punished. The four mommies took all of this in and rather than being shocked, nodded in agreement. Maggie breathed a big sigh of relief. She had pulled it off.
Maggie now looked forward to setting up meetings with the two other Disciplinary Circles she would be setting up. She would spend this afternoon and evening calling the mothers of the next group and arranging a time when they could bring their daughters in for orientation.
Kathy’s Reaction
As Kathy drove Katie home the implications of what Maggie Fletcher had said this morning were starting to sink in. Katie was so excited by what she had seen and heard that she chattered constantly during the drive and never heard a thing that Kathy said. Kathy dropped Katie off at home and managed to actually make it to work by the 1:00 PM time she had promised. That afternoon she sat at her desk routinely processing her mindless paperwork. But one part of her mind ran over and over the things that Katie’s teacher had talked about. Girls were subject to being spanked and in some cases even caned. Mommies were going to also be subject to discipline just as if they were school girls. She, Kathy, would probably be spanking her daughter Katie. And possibly other girls. It was quite possible that she would be spanked, and maybe caned. And Kathy was appalled that she found all of this exciting. She actually found this arousing. Kathy thought of the tawse that Maggie had given her, and each of the other mothers, at the end of their meeting. The tawse that was in her purse right now. She picked up her purse, opened it up and yes, there it was lying. And she thought about swinging that tawse and swatting the bare backside of her daughter. And her pussy was getting wet. She barely made it through the day and was trembling as she drove home.
Once Kathy got home she mulled over how to talk with Katie about discipline at school. She knew they had to have that talk tonight. She waited until Katie had changed into her PJ’s and was ready for bed. Then she sat the two of them down on the sofa. Twenty-eight year old mother and thirteen year old daughter sat in a silence that was heavier than any they had ever had since that fateful talk about the birds and the bees. Kathy began, “Katie, how much do you know about discipline at St. Margaret’s?” The daughter replied “I have heard stories that they are really strict. She heard rumors about girls getting spanked. I’m not worried. My conduct has always been really good. I bet that I will get through the first form without a single demerit.” Kathy was glad that Katie was so unafraid and so self confident. She also hoped that Katie was not over confident. Kathy sent Katie over to fetch her purse. She opened it and pulled the strap out. “Katie, I have been given this strap to use on you. Whenever you are bad, you will have to give me your flash drive and I will record down your misdeeds. We have a sleep over planned at the Wilson house a week from Friday. At that time the records for all four of you girls will be reviewed. And you will be punished accordingly. The girl touched the tawse and gulped. This was going to be harder than she anticipated. “Mommie, I will try real hard to be good.”
Date:7 July
To: mfletcher, aarundel, farundel, cbaxter, sbaxter2, mbrown, ebrown, ldiamond, gdiamond, khorrigan1, khorrigan2, bknight, cknight, mkripke1, mkripke3, emcdougal, cmcdougal, moneil, doneil, vstarr, estarr, pstuart. cstuart, nwilson, lwilson2
From: aobrien
Re: Congratulations Section A, 1st Form.
Congratulations are due to Maggie Fletcher and the mothers and daughters of Section A of our First Form. You are the first section of the 1st Form to complete orientation including physical exams, psychological exams, home room teacher meeting and issuance of uniforms. I am sure that you will continue to lead your form as the school year unfolds.
The meetings of your family circles will commence shortly. Ms Fletcher will be visiting Circle 1 at Mrs Wilson’s house on 9 July. I will be visiting the first meeting of Circle 2 at Mrs Baxter’s house on 16 July. Ms Fletcher will be visiting Circle 3 at Mrs Diamond’s house on 16 July. I hope that everyone will have a productive time until then.
Shortly, I will be e-mailing you the first issue of the new Disciplinary Policy.
Regards
Agnes O’Brien, PhD
Foundress and Headmistress
Sinking In
Although Kathy remained euphoric about St. Margaret’s School, Katie was beginning to have second thoughts about what she was getting into. She was leaving her grammar school chums behind, but that was pretty much inevitable. She was definitely being given the chance to move up the food chain. She knew that she was at a disadvantage. As it was her mum was barely able to keep an automobile and an apartment. While working like a navy for that bitch of a boss of hers. Katie could see that some of the girls in school had parents that could supply their every need. When they turned of age in a couple of years they would be given a car. And regardless of how they did on their exams, they would go to university. And get a high paying job. Katie knew that although they weren’t poor as dirt, they didn’t have much. This was a chance at a let up. But she was worried about these rumors about spankings. Everybody seemed friendly enough, but St. Margaret’s had an edge about it. She decided to call up the other girls in her Family Circle. Maybe get together with them and see what they thought. They were Frances Arundel, Diane O’Neil and Linda Wilson.
The four girls, Katie, Frances, Diane and Linda did manage to get together. Despite their loss of their cell phones they still had their computers and access to the internet. Between IMing and e-mail they did OK. And they managed, using public transit, to assemble for lunch at a regional mall. They had a great time and decided that all of their fears were groundless. Once they had put their heads together they decided that the major problem was that their mothers would not give them enough spending money.
Date:8 July
To: mfletcher, aarundel, farundel, cbaxter, sbaxter2, mbrown, ebrown, ldiamond, gdiamond, khorrigan1, khorrigan2, bknight, cknight, mkripke1, mkripke3, emcdougal, cmcdougal, moneil, doneil, vstarr, estarr, pstuart. cstuart, nwilson, lwilson2
From: aobrien
Re: Disciplinary Policy
Appended below is a list of activities that warrant issuance of a demerit. It should be remembered that accrual of five demerits will result in a Detention.
Regards
Agnes O’Brien, PhD
Foundress and Headmistress
Abuse of Animals
Careless Conduct
Lack of Self Control
Lack of Attention in Class
Disrespect
Spitting
Lack of Respect for School Property
Consumption of Foodstuffs in Class
Missing Homework
Poor Performance on Homework
Inadequate Hygiene
Handwriting Incapable of Being Deciphered
Littering School Grounds
Inadequate Performance in Physical Training
Inadequate Preparation for Class
Offenses Against Public Decency
Loud and Rowdy Behavior
Abuse of Inanimate Objects
Lack of Decorum in Hallways
Poor Performance on a Quiz
Slovenly Appearance
Presence in a Restricted Area
Tardy to Class
Talking
Violation of Dress Code
Sleeping in Class
Date:8 July
To: farundel, doneil, lwilson2
From: khorrigan2
Re: Disciplinary Policy
Dear Frances, Diane and Linda.
Have you seen what AO just sent out. We could be in deep shit.
Sister Katie.
Date: 8 July
To: aarundel, cbaxter, mbrown, ldiamond, khorrigan1, bknight, mkripke1, emcdougal, moneil, vstarr, pstuart, nwilson,
From: mfletcher,
Re: Family Circle Gatherings
Dear Mums.
Attached below are some guidelines for conducting weekly Disciplinary Circles. I understand that Section 1 is planning to hold their first Circle on Friday 16th July, while Sections 2 and 3 are planning their first Circles on Friday 23rd July. I will attend the Sections 1 and 2 first Circles while Dr. O’Brien will visit the Section 3 first Circle. Thank you for your efforts to make I.A the best in the First Form. I will send you more materials as they become available.
Regards,
Maggie.
How to Conduct a Disciplinary Circle Activity
It should be remembered that under all circumstances the hostess is to be respected and participants are guests of the hostess.
Date: 9 July
To: aarundel, cbaxter, mbrown, ldiamond, khorrigan1, bknight, mkripke1, emcdougal, moneil, vstarr, pstuart, nwilson,
From: mfletcher,
Re: Family Circle Gatherings
Dear Mums.
Below is a form that will assist you in scoring your daughter’s weekly performance. Obviously, there won’t be any input for School until classes start on 30th August. However, getting a jump on things in the way that you are doing will ensure a smooth transition when school starts. I cannot say how far ahead of the other class sections you are but you are making me very proud. Thank you for your efforts to make I.A the best in the First Form.
Regards,
Maggie.
Demerit Record
Girl’s Name _____________ _______________ First Form, Section A
Week of _____ ________ Swat Factor _______
Day Saturday Sunday Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday
Duty _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____
School _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____
B’hvr _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____
Total _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____
Grand
Total
Total Demerits _____ X Swat Factor ______ = ______ Total Swats
Implement ________________________
Date:10 July
To: farundel, doneil, lwilson2
From: khorrigan2
Re: Demerit Record
Dear Frances, Diane and Linda.
Guess what just got posted in my room, A Demerit Record. Hung right next to a tawse. I hacked into mum’s e-mail box and found the two e-mails I am forwarding to you. Apparently we are going to attend some sort of a sleep over this coming Friday. I bet you we are going to get spanked then if we have done anything wrong. SHIT!
Sister Katie.
Date: 10 July
To: mfletcher, aarundel, khorrigan1, moneil,
From: nwilson,
Re: Family Circle, 16th July
Dear Maggie and the Mums.
This is to suggest that we hold our first Disciplinary Circle at my house, Four Privet Circle, starting at 7 PM. Since school has not yet begun, I suggest that you drop your daughters off at my house at 6 PM. I will provide the apparel. I suggest that we think about seafood and I will provide white wine. I suggest that you think about sleeping over as well as your daughters. I.A will be the best in the First Form.
Regards,
Nanci.
Date:11 July
To: farundel, doneil, lwilson2
From: khorrigan2
Re: Disciplinary Circle
Dear Frances, Diane and Linda.
Looks like we are going to meet at Linda’s next Friday. My mum this morning started outlining my ‘duties’. So far, OK. Also we had to go to church this morning. Mum said we are catholic so we had to haul off to something called mass. Never had to do that before. How are you guys doing.
Sister Katie.
Date:11 July
To: farundel, khorrigan2, doneil,
From: lwilson2
Re: Demerit Record
Dear Frances, Katie and Diane .
I am in deep shit already. Looks like I got to be catholic too. I flipped out when mum tried hauling my ass off to mass. So mum marked a Behavior demerit down. Then I got pissed over chores. I mean that’s why we got a maid and a cook. So I got the maid to make up my bed and the cook to clean up the dinner dishes. Well it turns out they ratted on me and now I got 2 Duty demerits. And its only Sunday evening. I am still excited about school but all of this other shit in my life got me down.
Sister Linda.
Teacher Conference with Headmistress, 15 July
Maggie sat, somewhat nervously, in Dr. O’Brien’s office. This was, her first evaluation since graduating from university and starting here at St. Margaret’s. And let’s face it, Agnes O’Brien was an intimidating individual. She was a famous feminist scholar whose works Maggie had read as an undergraduate. She was the Foundress of this school and its headmistress. So Maggie’s palms were moist and her mouth was dry. And the chair she was sitting in was armless, wooden and with a straight back, obviously designed to make its occupant less than comfortable. But Maggie also found this anxiety a bit erotic. If she was found wanting what would Dr. O’Brien do to her. Would she be made to strip and be whipped? Now that was simultaneously terrifying and arousing.
Agnes looked out at Maggie as the new teacher squirmed in the ‘hot seat’. The combination of the fears that a new teacher normally feels and the programming she had Steve perform on the young lady were obviously interacting beautifully. Agnes bet that Maggie’s drawers would soon be dripping with vaginal secretions. Agnes suspected that the more she reassured Maggie, the greater her anxiety would become. So she began the evaluation: “Maggie, how do you think you are doing. In particular how do you think you are performing vis a vis Bly, Nelson and Hornblower. What goals have you set for yourself and how far along are you in terms of the benchmarks that need to be met for Section I.A? And lastly, how do you feel about yourself?”
Maggie cleared her throat and clenched her pelvic muscles and began. “Dr O’Brien, mam, I think I am doing alright. All of my twelve girls, and their mothers have been through orientation including physical and psychological exams, teacher conference and uniform issue. All three Circles are designated and they have established their e-networks. The first Circle has its first Sleep Over planned for tomorrow at Mrs. Wilson’s. The second and third Circles have their first sleep overs planned for the 23rd. I know that they have received several of your e-mails and are going over them. The first Circle has started their Home Disciplinary Record System which we will review tomorrow. How am I doing in comparison to the other teachers? Well, I was hired a week sooner than Ms Bly so I have a head start on her. She seems to be doing very well. I think that by tomorrow she will have put all of her twelve girls through orientation. I like Kris. Her area of specialization is English and I think the two of us can work together well. I admit that I haven’t really had much of a chance to deal with the other two new teachers. In terms of my goals and benchmarks, I want to have weekly meetings of my three Circles in the next month and a half before classes start so that the home disciplinary system is smoothly functioning prior to startup. I am thinking of e-mailing out a maths assessment to all of the first formers ten days prior to class start due in on the Thursday prior to class start.”
“How do I feel mam? Sort of strange. Actually very strange. On the one hand I am unbelievably excited. On the other hand I am really scared. I am surprised how well the mums respond to my authority. Particularly since they are all older than I am. Some are almost as old as my mum was when she died. And yet when I make a point, they all agree. I am petrified that I will ask them to do something and they will refuse. The girls, on the other hand, I sense more of a rebellious streak in them. A lot of rebellion in a few of them. I am not sure that I can handle them. In fact I am terrified that I cannot handle them. If I fail I don’t know what I would do.” And at that point the young blonde put her face in her hands and began to cry.
Agnes O’Brien leaned back in her well padded brown leather chair and contentedly smiled. Things were going very well. Maggie Fletcher had her class section up and running and it was six weeks until the start of classes. She would go far, she was damned close to the best in this school and her and Kris Bly would be the foundation upon which she would build the St. Margaret’s that she dreamed of. Now to prepare her for tomorrow’s meeting. “Miss Fletcher, there are a couple of things you need to tend to before tomorrow. First make sure that the older siblings of your girls get their exams. I think that for Circle I.A1 there is only one. Laura Wilson. What are your plans for her.” Maggie replied. “Laura and her mother Nancy are scheduled to drop by the Ritchie Clinic late this afternoon.”
Agnes was very pleased at this. She would call David immediately and instruct him as to further programming for Mrs. Wilson. She could probably do it herself but she didn’t want Dave or Steve to know the degree to which she was independent of him. She was not the hyper-suggestible young female that they were used to dealing with. What Steve had done last spring was to primarily release repressions that Agnes longed to release herself. She was actually quite self aware during the process. All of the programming that would have made her quite susceptible to Steve’s wishes totally failed to take. Between her will and her own quite considerable knowledge of hypnosis, Agnes was quite her own creature. But it would not do for her to directly start programming. It ran the danger of Steve detecting the signs of her handiwork. That would upset the apple cart. Well, in any case back to the matter directly at hand.
“Well Ms. Fletcher, I think you have done very well with only a few minor missteps. Therefore I think that you deserve only the lightest level of discipline. I think that two dozen strokes of the strap should be sufficient. What do you think?” Maggie gulped. For a couple of weeks she had been wondering about this. Fearing it and yet anticipating it. She nodded in agreement.
Maggie’s Maintenance
“Then Ms. Fletcher, better remove your knickers, hoist your skirts, kneel down on the seat of the chair, and bend over the back of the chair grasping the back legs with your hands. This is the position you will assume in the future when you are given a minor chastisement in this office. Is this clear.”
Maggie’s head was in a whirl. It seemed as if this was what she had been waiting for, forever. All of her heart and soul had been rushing toward this moment, anticipating this, longing for this. Ever since that day early this summer when she took the train out to St. Margaret’s and interviewed with Dr. O’Brien. She had been building toward this. Her hands trembled as she lifted up the hem of her skirt and began unfastening her suspender garters from the tops of her dark stockings. There were four of them, two on each side. Having released the fasteners she could reach up and lower her white panties, first to her thighs, then below her knees, and then stepping out of them. She blushed as she realized how wet the gusset of her knickers were. She sensed just how aroused she was. She glanced over at Dr. O’Brien wondering where to put her panties. Agnes instructed her to drape them over the back of the wooden chair. Hoisting her black skirt and half slip up and over her hips, Maggie climbed onto the seat of the chair and bent her upper body over. This left her buttocks magnificently exposed and ready for Dr. O’Brien’s attentions.
Agnes, opened a side drawer of her large wooden desk and removed a hefty leather strap. It was far more substantial than the tawses she had issued to the teachers and first form mothers. Longer, wider and thicker the leather was attached to a wooden handle. “Maggie, now you are going to learn about a real spanking.” Maggie thought she knew. After all it was only a couple of weeks since the last time she was spanked. That was by Dr. Waters on the day she had interviewed for the job her. And it took some time until the last of the bruises faded. But when the blow wielded by Agnes O’Brien landed squarely across her buttocks, Maggie understood. The impact of it almost knocked her off the chair and she wobbled around while fighting to keep her balance. And then there was the pain. An impact over such a large area didn’t transmit as an ouch. It was more like a roar coursing through her brain. And then came the next. As the strap whistled through the air Maggie’s brain went, ‘NO NO NO NO’ and then ‘ARRRRGGGHH’. She bit into the oral mucosa on the backside of her lips and could taste the blood that began to collect inside her mouth. As the next blow connected she fought for control. The force of it drove her forward on the chair and unbalanced her. It was all she could do to keep from falling forward and taking the chair with her. The only thing she could do was to fight to move backwards on the chair. And this brought her right up against that which was driving her forward – the swinging strap.
By about the twelfth stroke, Mags had mastered the art of staying on the chair while being beaten with the strap. It was only at this point that she could truly appreciate the special pain coursing through her. And the higher erotic level she was being taken to. Even more so than during her beating at the doctor’s office, this beating was turning her on. Before that day she had never known what a body shaking, soul wrenching force a real orgasm was. Prior to then she had upon occasion diddled herself but never was something like that unleashed. And she hadn’t had a real orgasm since, despite fiddling with her clit every evening and morning in bed. Now she could feel the tension beginning to build. It had been slowly rising over the last couple of weeks as she tweaked herself without getting any real release. Now it was building faster. It seemed that every blow of the strap increased the pressure inside her head to beyond the breaking point. Then the blows ceased and Dr. O’Brien said “That is it”. But the pressure continued to build. Mags was shaking uncontrollably. She somehow got her feet back on solid ground. But she then dropped to her knees bowing down to the ground at Dr. O’Brien’s feet sobbing “Please mam, can I frig myself”. The Headmistress smiled and said, “By all means my child.” Still holding her skirts up, Maggie eased her swollen and tender buttocks onto the chair and went about tweaking her pussy with both hands. Such was her degree of excitement that in less than a minute she climaxed. It was only when her shuddering ceased and her head began to clear that her embarrassment began to show. Her face and neck flushed crimson as she looked up at her smiling superior. “Its alright, Ms Fletcher, I understand. You have been under enormous pressure. You have done very well. Take the rest of the afternoon off. You deserve it. And remember, I will drop by tomorrow night to see how things are going.”
Getting Ready
Dr. O’Brien sat back in her chair and cradled the receiver of her phone. “Dr. Ritchie, when he has a moment to break” she informed Ms Richards the receptionist. Ann immediately knew what level of urgency that signified. Don’t interrupt David Ritchie while he was in with a patient but have him call Dr. O’Brien before he see the next patient. Ann Richards was well trained. And she was severely punish every month for any minor mistakes.
While Agnes waited for her colleague to return the call she pondered the situation. She did not have to wait long. “David, I am so happy with the programming Steve did on Maggie Fletcher. She is in constant low level arousal but cannot under ordinary circumstances masturbate herself to climax. The only way for her to get release is through corporal punishment. Fantastic! Now, I am sending Mrs. Wilson to you, yes the obnoxious one. No, she is not Italian, she is Maltese, there is a difference you know. Yes, I know that you saw her a couple of weeks ago with her pre-first form daughter Linda. This time she is bringing her daughter Laura, yes the one who is Sandra’s age. And she is also bringing her cook and maid, both of whom are also Maltese. I want all four of them to receive the same programming that Steve gave Maggie. Have you got that? Yes, I realize that it will mean a long night for Steve this evening. He will get his recompense. And I want you to remember one other thing. I want Laura left intact. You and Steve can screw Nancy and her servants until their ears bleed but leave the girl alone. That’s right, as far as St. Margaret’s goes, screw the mothers but leave the daughters alone. Finally, tomorrow night is the first meeting for Wilson’s Disciplinary Circle. In fact it will be the first meeting for any of the Disciplinary Circles. So I want Nancy unmarked. In fact, I also want the servants unmarked. Have Mrs Wilson call me when ever you are done with her. Thanks, you will give her the code words ‘Dream of Malta’.”
It was almost 10 PM before Agnes’ phone went off with Nancy Wilson’s call. Once Agnes said ‘Dream of Malta’ the chattering on the other end ceased. Agnes had a particular and virulent dislike for Mrs Wilson. She considered the lady to be the most obnoxious mommy in the entire school and she had two years to become quite well acquainted with the tantrums of her daughter Laura who would be entering the third form this year. In fact, Nancy and Laura where part of the motivation for this entire project. Mrs Wilson was actually the second Mrs. Wilson. The first Mrs Wilson, who had stewarded her dim but rapacious husband to a comfortable fortune, had been disposed of in a nasty and vicious divorce that left the faithful woman nearly destitute. The second Mrs Wilson, a twenty-years-younger trophy wife was a statuesque raven haired beauty with alabaster skin. Nancy was obsessed with her body and would not have her hands ruined with housework, necessitating both a cook and a maid. She obtained these from her native Malta at shockingly low salaries. Nancy would not dare darken her skin with the sun, so a conservatory was built for an indoor pool. Another of the second Mrs Wilson obsessions were her large breasts and narrow waist which were prominently highlighted by the tailored dresses and suits she wore. Whenever she appeared at a school function you could be sure that every male eye was immediately drawn to her. There were rumors about her insatiable desires. After her husband Andy died of a heart attack two and a half years ago, Agnes heard a tidbit from the coroner that he had the highest blood Viagra level that the lab had ever seen.
Now Agnes was going to have fun with the raven-tressed Maltese beauty. She told Nancy what needed to be yet further done so that Friday night to be memorable. Nancy needed to pick up from school the gifts that Agnes would be distributing. The apparel for the four mothers and their daughters needed to be finished. Laura needed to spend the night over at a friend’s. What to say and what not to say. All those little details. The little details that were so important.
16th July - The First Friday Sleep Over
Katie was so excited by the prospect of the sleep over that her legs were actually shaking. Since it was summer, she and the girls that would soon be her classmates had little else to think about. And since their cell phones had been confiscated they spent a disproportionate amount of time at their computers IM’ing each other. And guess what was the hottest topic of conversation? The spankings that they knew were coming. How bad they would be? How well would they stand up to them? Who would break down and cry and who would stoically endure? Would anybody get bruises? How long it would take for black and blue marks to go away? What none of them realized was that since they were using the e-mail addresses the school had supplied them with and were using the school’s e-net for their IM’ing, Ms Fletcher was able to monitor every instant message. And pass the choicer ones up to Dr. O’Brien. If Katie knew that every message passed back and forth was being read by a teacher, she would have been totally grossed out.
Katie’s mom dropped her off at Linda Wilson’s house and then went off running some last minute errands. Katie suspected that Linda was well off and some of the other I.A girls in the rapidly expanding network confirmed this. Katie was, however, unprepared for exactly what this meant. The Wilson house was huge and sat in an actual estate with a gate and a long tree lined drive. But when the door was opened by a maid Katie was flabbergasted. Linda was there to greet her and take Katie up to Linda’s room. Katie was floored by the size of Linda’s room, it must have had the same total area as their entire flat. The most prominent thing in the room was a giant four poster bed with canopy. ‘I guess that is what was meant by a king sized bed’ thought Katie.
The door to the bathroom was open so Katie poked in to scope it out. She was greatly surprised to see Frances Arundel, classmate and Circle member, sitting stark naked on the rim of a truly enormous bathtub. Steam was rising from the bathtub with was filling up with what was obviously quite hot water and bubble bath. Frances’ legs were spread wide and a woman in a short white uniform dress was kneeling in front of the brown-haired girl shaving her bottom. Linda poked her head in and instructed “Cookie, when you are done shaving Ms Arundel, you can shave Ms Horrigan here”. Then she turned to Katie and said, “Sister, you had better get started because Diane should be getting here any moment. If everybody is not ready when mum expects, there will be demerits and God knows, I have enough of those already. Get undressed. Just drop your clothes on the floor. Cookie will hang them up in the right place. I’m going downstairs to wait for Diane. I hope she isn’t late.” Katie gulped. She realized from talks with her mother that when she was spanked it would be on the bare behind. She also knew from reading the school rules that girls were to shave the hair on their trunks and legs. Well, she had been putting off shaving until just before school started. She wasn’t prepared to get naked in front of strangers and have her pussy shaved. On the other hand Frances wasn’t exactly a stranger. She was a class mate and as part of the Circle she was sort of like a sister. Still it was with a bit of trepidation that she started to undress.
So Katie sat and had her pubes, pussy and asshole shaved. Frances, meantime, made sundry and various noises of protest as she got into the hot water to which bubble bath had just been added. At first, all Frances could tolerate was to stand in the water and then after a minute or two, to kneel in it. Consistent with being the fairest-haired member of the circle, Katie took the least time to shave. The hair on her trunk was sparse and so blond as to be barely visible. All it took was a swipe or two here and there. When she joined Frances in the tube, Katie immediately understood Frances’ plaints. This water was hotter than any she had ever experienced. At this point Linda entered the bathroom accompanied by Diane O’Neil, the fourth member of their Circle, who was obviously about to join them. Diane obediently followed Linda’s instructions and disrobed. Since the red hair on Diane’s nether regions was not much thicker than Katie’s, she soon jointed the other two girls in the tub.
Linda was soon directing the three girls in the details of their bathing. “The extra hot water is so very important. That way you are all pretty pink when you come out. Now, Frances, get down on your hands and knees. That’s it. Now Katie, you take one scrub brush and give her titties a good hard scrubbing. Diane, you take the other brush and clean Frances’ bottom. That’s good, keep scrubbing hard. I have bathed already. I will go get our nightgowns and we can all get dressed together.”
And so Katie mused to herself “Soon all of us had been scrubbed and had shampooed and conditioned our hair. It was really nice that not only did Linda have shampoo and conditioner for her dark oily hair but she had the right stuff for Diane’s and my finer, drier hair. Soon we were playing with the two blow driers the bathroom was equipped with blowing each others hair and toweling down our bright pink bodies. We even tried using the blow drier on each others nipples and bottoms which were red from being scrubbed so hard. That was quite a bit of fun.”
Her thoughts continued. “Soon enough we were joined by a stark naked Linda with an armload of nighties. We decided that Linda needed to have her titties and bottom blow dried. Unlike the three of us that were still rather undeveloped, Linda at age 13 already had substantial breasts. At least substantial to us who had to be constantly reassured by our mothers that someday we would have an adequate figure. After we played with Linda we turned our attention to our nightgowns. They were beautiful, of a soft cotton muslin, so thin it was almost sheer and invisible. The gowns had high necks and long sleeves which were hemmed with white lace. Each of us had a gown of a different pastel. Mine was yellow so pale that it was almost white. Diane’s was a pale rose which we joked perfectly matched her shaved pubes. Frances’ was a light blue which perfectly matched her eyes and Linda’s was a soft green which matched her eyes. The gowns were perfectly fitted to our upper bodies and clung without a wrinkle. The fabric was so soft and thin that for Diane, Frances and I, our nubbins poked out wickedly. In Linda’s case, the bodice of the nightie clung to her breasts as if it was a second skin. And on the left side of the bodices, just above the breast, the initials of each girl had been embroidered. Below the gathered waists, the gowns were pleated ending in a lace-adorned hem just at our ankles. We all marveled at how beautifully the nighties were tailored precisely to each of our bodies. We wondered how Mrs. Wilson got things so right and Linda thought that she got our measurements from the school. Our slippers were the exact same shade as our gowns. We put them on and twirled about the bathroom and Linda’s bedroom causing the skirts of our nighties to flare out. We were as giddy as we could be.”
Our frivolity was interrupted by Mrs. Wilson. She shooed us down to the lounge where a long folding table had been set up with our book bags on it. We had to complete our maths prior to the start of term assessment first. And no tea until it was done. So we settled in with a will and were soon enjoying our tea and pastry.”
Toilette of the Mommies
About 6 PM the ladies started arriving. They were not as giddy as their daughters but after several glasses of white wine they certainly began to loosen up. The maid took care of them, as directed by Mrs Wilson. The tub in Nancy’s room was even bigger than that in Linda’s and the ladies took their leisure lounging in it two at a time, their wine glasses magically refilling when ever they got dangerously low.
Kathy’s memories of what followed were dim. Take four women all in their 30’s (well except for Kathy who was 28). All had previous sexual experience and if recently they weren’t rogering at least they were getting off by manual means. For the last couple of weeks they had been under Steve’s mental control conditioning. This, on the one hand released a great deal of repressed sexuality. On the other hand, because of Dr. O’Brien’s rules, their programming including a prohibition against climaxing except, by and large, when Agnes allowed it. What all of this amounted to was a group of horny mommies who weren’t getting any. So where their thirteen year old daughters were having fun frolicking around the bathroom, their programmed mums were engaged in some much more serious business. Unprogrammed, inexperienced girls were having fun rubbing tities and bottoms. But their mind controlled mothers were using the handles of bathing brushes in orifices that were not normally associated with bathing brush handles. And K-Y jelly was liberally employed. There was much sucking and licking but nobody was getting off.
After a while the exhausted but unsatisfied mums realized that they had better get back to the business at hand. They toweled their bodies and blow dried their hair. And then Nancy Wilson brought out her present to each of the mothers in the Circle. A beautiful satin dressing gown, As they were soon to realize, the mothers’ gowns matched the pastel shades of the daughters. Nancy explained, “I was inspired by those marvelous movies of the 1930’s. Norma, and Betty, and Joan, and Olivia. So elegant and so sexy.” And to go with the dressing gowns were self supporting thigh high stockings and high heeled pumps. And of course the color of the hose and shoes matched that of the dressing gowns. The ladies thoroughly enjoyed themselves as they put on the stockings and tried on the shoes. And the shoes fit perfectly! Actually better than the shoes the ladies normally wore which were almost invariably a half size or so too small. Who ever sized the shoes knew the ladies real shoe size rather than had simply sneaked a peek in their closet. Clothes were certainly no substitute for an orgasm, but all in all, they were better than nothing.
Thus accoutered, the four ladies descended the stairs and met their daughters in the dining room. There they attacked the seafood buffet laid out by the Cook. And the mothers partook of more white wine. Alas, every time one of the daughters attempted to sneak a sip from a crystal goblet carelessly left unattended, the Maid whisked it away. By eight O’clock, the girls had stuffed themselves full of shrimp, crab-stuffed mushrooms and lobster rolls and the mums were well filled with German, French, Chilean and Italian white wines. The doorbell rang. It was Maggie Fletcher standing on the door stoop.
Video Time
The girls and moms of the First Form, Section A, First Disciplinary Circle suddenly became very quiet. The moment that they anticipated and dreaded had arrived. The fun and games were over and an uncertain amount of punishment was going to begin. The girls, who had undergone no programming at the hands of Dr. Steve Waters, knew only dread anticipation. The mothers, who had been subjected to mind control, release of inhibitions and denial of orgasms had much more mixed emotions. Yes, they knew, in greater detail than their daughters about the chastisements to come. But they also were under an erotic thrall. Their hearts were beating faster, not simply at the prospect of pain, but also at the prospect of pleasure. That was what Maggie was bringing: pain and pleasure.
And so the teacher directed them all to the lounge. Surprisingly, the girls did not simply sit next to their mothers. Instead, already influenced by the immediately precedent experience, they huddled together, all four of them on the sofa, sensing that the older women were no longer purely a source of comfort. They suspected that shortly the women would represent a source of pain for them. Maggie Fletcher went up to the massive large screen, flat display TV. She turned it on, inserted a DVD and turned off the lights as soon as the video started. She said, “Dr. O’Brien has a few remarks for you to hear. Then there will be a practical demonstration on the DVD. Please pay attention. Your lot will be easiest if you follow directions and commands to the letter. Failure to do exactly as you are told will bring penalties upon you that are most unpleasant.”
Soon the screen was filled by an image of Agnes O’Brien seated at her desk. She quickly outlined what they were in for. Girls could be, and should be, spanked in their home by their mothers for all and any reasons. There were also to be weekly meeting of the Disciplinary Circles. At these, the conduct of the last week would be reviewed and penance assigned. The girls would do their penance first. The women would as a group mete out the punishment, spanking the girls appropriately. The girls would then go to bed. Then the mothers would discharge their responsibility for the actions of their daughters. Dr. O’Brien was much more vague about what that involved. Dr. O’Brien thanked them for their attention and concluded by remarking that she would periodically visit the various Disciplinary Circles to monitor their progress.
The screen dissolved and the next image to appear was that of a mother and her two daughters. Nancy Wilson immediately recognized the younger girl as Sandra, a classmate of her older daughter Laura. She more vaguely recognized the woman as Sandra’s mother Sally and surmised that the other daughter must be Helen, a sixth former. For the life of Nancy, she couldn’t remember their surname. The purpose of this part of the video was easy to guess even before the caption “Basic Spanking” flashed on the screen. Sally had a leather strap in her hand and the girls were stripped to their uniform shoes, white knee socks and white spaghetti-strap tee tops that came down not quite to the top of their depiliated pubes. It certainly looked like Sally was going to demonstrate how to administer a spanking using Sandra and Helen as models.
Sally quickly got to the point: “Spanking in the home should be done frequently and thoroughly and always on the bare bottom. Girls should strip from the waist down or else should be completely naked. When my girls have been bad at school they are to change immediately upon arriving home. They then begin their homework until I arrive home. When I enter I instruct them which implement to get and they are immediately punished. In our house punishment is doled out in groups of a dozen. So if it is to be ONE they get a dozen swats, TWO means twenty-four and so forth. Rarely are more than FIVE needed. Today, Sandra will be getting SIX so that we can demonstrate a variety of positions. Sandra, assume the basic position!”
At this point the fifteen year old girl turned around, place her feet a little over half a meter apart, bent over and grasped her ankles. Sally continued her narrative: “This position is quite suitable for either a strap, a tawse or a leather paddle. The legs should be far enough apart so that the girl’s labia are just visible. In addition to the tawse supplied by the school, in our house we use a number of different implements of chastisement. You will probably want to obtain supplementary implements for your household once you get the hang of the basic techniques. Remember, however, that the use of the cane is restricted to Saturday Detentions at the School. Some women prefer to have their girls recite formulaic ‘Thank you’s, counts or requests for further swats. In my house I don’t bother with these things. Now, for the first dozen we will use the tawse.”
Having said this Sally reached over to the adjacent table and picked up the tawse. Standing to Sandra’s left she then delivered six hefty rapid fire blows across Sandra’s buttocks and left upper thigh. Sally then immediately walked over to Sandra’s right side and rapidly applied another six strokes. The flesh of Sandra’s backside rippled with each impact but the girl hardly flinched. However, her head was visible between her spread legs and her face was quite red. In this case it matched her posterior where the prints of each tawse stroke were turning red and beginning to swell. Sally continued her narrative; ”There are several advantages to this position. Note that when the tawse is applied to the thighs the two tails whip around and strike the inner surface of the thigh, a most sensitive area. And it is possible to stand in front of the girl and bring the tawse down along the buttock and thigh.” As Sally explained, she demonstrated rapidly raining down a dozen blows in short order. After two dozen strokes of the tawse, Sandra’s backside was one large, swollen, red welt. But the girl had not yet even flinched.
“On the other hand,” Sally continued, “This position is not perfect for all implements and techniques.” Sally walked back to the table, put down the tawse and picked up a very large leather paddle. “When the legs are spread this way, stability is not optimal and a sufficiently heavy blow can knock a slender girl like Sandra off balance.” While saying this Sally wound up like a demented cricket batsman and on the words “heavy blow” delivered a mighty smack to Sandra’s backside. This did, actually knock the petite girl off balance and she had to struggle to not fall over. In the process of this she had to take her hands off her ankles, come upright and shuffle her feet. Sally then motioned her over to the table saying “It is helpful if the girl being chastised with a heavy paddle has something to hang onto such as a table or chair. This aids them in keeping their balance.” Sandra went over to the table and bent across it with her legs together, gripping the edge of the other side with her hands. Her mother repeated the sequence she originally demonstrated with the tawse, first striking Sandra six times from her left and then switching over and hitting her six times from the right. Sally then examined her daughter’s backside commenting “The nice thing about the paddle is that it doesn’t just leave swollen red marks. A sufficiently heavy paddle leaves bruises.” And her comment was exemplified by the purple blotches that were appearing and spreading across Sandra’s buttocks.
Sally put down the paddle and picked up a strap mounted to a wooden handle. “Positioning can be key when more severe punishment is desired. For example, most girls hate what is called the ‘luge’ position. This position should always be done in the nude.” Sally looked over at Sandra and nodded. Sandra gingerly sat on the edge of the table and removed her white knee socks. Then she slipped her tee top over her head and placed her scant coverings on the table. She got down onto the floor on her hands and knees. Then Sandra positioned her feet almost a meter apart and got up on her palms and her toes. The distress this position caused was immediately apparent. The physical discomfort has enhanced by the humiliating exposure of her genitals and the dangling down of her small breasts. Aware that her daughter was in an uncomfortable position motivated Sally to slow down the pace of the blows she delivered to no more than two or three a minute. And of the dozen strikes she delivered, at least half were whipped across the back striking the pendant nipple of the girl’s breasts. These caused Sandra to gasp. After the dozen were delivered Sally motioned Sandra to stand.
“But there is one position that girls detest above all other,” Sally commented “and that is called the ‘diaper’ position”. Sandra returned to the table, sat on the edge, lay back, and raised her legs up. She then took her arms and clasped her hands behind her knees. Sally continued “If you are right handed, as most of us are, your best strokes are delivered when standing on the left. When a girl is in the standard bent over position, you strike her right side most forcefully. No matter how cleverly you swing when standing on her right side the blows are never as good. On the other hand, when the girl is on her back with her legs raised up, you can strike her left hand with full and proper impact.” And so Sally did, raining a dozen blows down on the buttocks and thighs of the poor girl. Sandra’s backside was now a solid swollen mass of black and blue bruise. Even with her hands gripping tightly behind her knees, Sandra’s legs were shaking. After five dozen blows from tawse, paddle and strap, the girl was clearly reaching the limits of her control.
Sally’s commentary continued: “For the next punishment I will need assistance.” Helen who throughout the video had been standing silent and motionless in place, now walked over to the far side of the table. As she did this Helen turned and the viewers could catch a brief glimpse of her backside. Linda sucked in her breath and blurted out “Oh my God, look at her bootie, it is all cut to shit”. Ms Fletcher glared at the girl and said “Another outburst like that, girl, and your punishment will be doubled.” What had prompted Linda’s outburst was the momentary sight of Helen’s recently and thoroughly caned buttocks. Fifty strokes had left the skin in tatters and fresh blood glistened in the bright lights used to make the video. But it was only a momentary glimpse and the sight was quickly obscured by the table and her sister lying on it.
Sally next had Sandra place her hands behind her head, interlocking her fingers together. Helen reached over the table grasping Sandra’s ankles and pulling her legs toward her. Helen then spread Sandra’s legs as far apart as she could. The exposure of Sandra’s genitals made Sally’s commentary unnecessary but she made it anyway. “A girl’s most tender and intimate part is her pussy. And the one thing that every girl fears the most is a pussy spanking” Up to this point Sandra had borne her torment stoically but now she started to quietly cry. But her mother was implacable and merciless. A dozen swats struck Sandra squarely from the pubis down across the labia. The girl bucked with each one but her sister held her fast. By the time the last was delivered the girl was loudly sobbing and shaking but she did not take her hands from behind her head. Sally commented “Sandra has had her pussy spanked many times in the last year. She knows if she takes her hands from behind her head she will get twice that number as a penalty. And on two occasions she has.” The camera now zoomed in on Sandra’s quivering pudendum. The outer labia were badly bruised. The inner labia and clitoral hood were swollen to four times their normal size and were protruding well out beyond the outer labia. These most delicate parts were cherry red and were starting to turn purple. “Sandra knows what three dozen swats will do to her pussy. She will do anything to avoid a bloody pussy.”
And so the DVD ended with an image none of the girls would ever forget. Sandra’s bruised and swollen genitals filling the entire expanse of the large screen TV. The image of a shaking battered pussy dominating the darkened room. They were too horrified to make a noise. The four of them just sat their in their nighties shivering. Their knees were drawn up to their chests, hugged their by their clutching arms. The four of them huddled there together shaking in terror. Their mothers, on the other hand, programmed by Steve to associate pain with eroticism and unsatisfied by their earlier activities in Nancy’s tub, were highly aroused. The girls were too frightened to notice that every one of their mothers had slipped her hand inside her robe and was fingering herself. Unfortunately the fingering was all for naught and their programming prevented any release for the mums.
Maggie cleared her throat. The girls almost jumped out of their skins. The mothers were startled for a different reason and quickly rearranged their dressing gowns. Maggie turned on the lights and said “I think we need to move downstairs to the utility room”.
Report Cards
Once everybody had settled in, the mothers sitting on folding metal chairs, the girls standing, Mrs. Wilson handed each of the four girls their weekly scorecard in a sealed envelope. She gave Katie hers first, remarking that she had the best report of all. When the hostess nodded, Katie opened the envelope and examined the card within.
Demerit Record
Girl’s Name __Katie______ __Horrigan____ First Form, Section A
Week of __10th_ __July__ Swat Factor ___5___
Day Saturday Sunday Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday
Duty _____ _____ __ I__ _____ __ I__ _____ _____
School _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____
B’hvr _____ __I__ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____
Total _____ __ I__ __ I___ _____ __ I__ _____ _____ __3___
Grand
SAH _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ Total
Total Demerits ___3__ X Swat Factor __5__ = __15__ Total Swats
Implement ___STRAP_________________
She was by and large familiar with it. After all it had been hanging on the wall of her bedroom all week. Next to that ominous looking tawse. After one mark on Sunday and one on Monday, she had managed to get through the next four days with only one more demerit. OK thought Katie, if three demerits was the best, what would the worst be. Before the other girls got the chance to open theirs, Katie noticed that some additions had been made and calculations performed. The Swat Factor line had been emended by the addition of a 5. For reasons that escaped her now, Katie had always assumed, ONE DEMERIT, ONE SWAT. Three swats, no big deal, she could handle that no matter how hard the swats. That was what a swat factor was, the number of swats administered for each demerit. She gulped and managed to prevent the “OH SHIT” from escaping her lips. Yes it could be a lot worse than she imagined. Katie was not sure how well she could handle fifteen swats.
Dianne audibly gulped and became a little pale as she realized that her four demerits worked out to 20 swats of the strap. Frances was even more upset. She did the math and came up with twenty five. The brunette let out through tightly clenched teeth a barely audible, “Bugger”. “OH HOLY FUCKING SHIT” Linda was not as lucky nor as well controlled as the other three girls. “Frances and Linda there are penalties for unwarranted comments” warned Maggie Fletcher.
Linda’s hands shook as she examined her card. “Fifty swats with the strap.” She said more quietly than before. “Fifty plus a nasty penalty for having a big fat dirty mouth” corrected Ms Fletcher.
Demerit Record
Girl’s Name __Linda______ __Wilson____ First Form, Section A
Week of __10th_ __July__ Swat Factor ___5___
Day Saturday Sunday Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday
Duty _____ __ I__ __ I__ _____ __ I__ __ I__ _____
School _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____
B’hvr _____ __2__ __ I__ _ I___ __ I__ _ I___ _____
Total _____ _ 3__ __ 2__ __ I___ __ 2__ __2__ _____ _10__
Grand
SAH _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ Total
Total Demerits __10__ X Swat Factor __5__ = __50__ Total Swats
Implement ___STRAP___________
And so they began with Katie.
Advisory! This story describes spanking 13 year old girls (but not sexual relations with them).
If this sort of thing disturbs you, don’t read this story.
Katie Horrigan
Mrs Wilson knew that it was now her job to direct the punishment of the girls. She wondered if anybody could tell how shaky she was. She struggled to control her voice and sound authoritative. “Katie Horrigan, step forward.” A visibly trembling Katie took a couple of hesitant steps forward. That the girl was that scared actually reassured Nancy. Maybe this was going to work she thought. Then she said “Katie you are to get a fifteen swat spanking. Do you understand?” The blond girl nodded that she did. Nancy was further reassured that this girl was not going to cause trouble and there was real confidence in her voice as she continued: “Katie, gather up the skirts of your nightgown and hold them up to your waist.” Katie lifted them up to her hips just showing a glimpse of her shaved mons veneris. Nancy was not satisfied and there was a bit of an edge in her voice when she said “Higher”. The girl, startled, jumped a bit and yanked her nightclothes up above her navel. Nancy now instructed “Bend over and grab your ankles”. The girl quickly complied whereupon the long skirts fell down around her head and arms. But that didn’t bother Mrs Wilson at all, the target buttocks were clear and ready for action.
She cleared her throat: “Since this is the first time for all of us, I think we need to dispense with all but the necessities. To make it easier mothers will not be asked to chastise their own daughters. Anne Arundel and Mary O’Neil will spank Katie. By the way, are either of you left handed.” Mary O’Neil raised her hand and Nancy Wilson was so happy she almost started dancing as she said, “Well then, Mary, as we just learned you can stand by the right while Anne stands on the left. We have a tawse for each of you. Anne since you are dexterous, you can deliver eight and Mary since you are sinister you can deliver seven.” Nancy was so proud of her clever allusions she totally failed to notice how badly Katie’s legs were shaking. But it didn’t matter. Katie had no real job to do. Other than stand there and take it. Nancy’s final instructions were brief, “Better do a good job or you will be on the receiving end of a penalty. And Katie, remember that if you take your hands from your ankles you will get a penalty. And after what we saw on the video, penalties are not to be taken lightly.”
Mrs. Arundel and Ms O’Neil held a brief whispered consultation to work out the details. Since Anne had the larger number of strokes to dispense, she would strike first. Then the red head. And alternating back and forth until the requisite fifteen were reached. And arousing though the video had been, neither had any desire to be on the receiving end of a penalty. God knows what lay in store for that piteous misencreate.
With her head bundled up in the skirts of her nightgown, Katie was clueless. Until her world exploded when Mary O’Neil’s stroke hit her butt. Startled, she came within a hair of letting go. It was only that she had locked her ankles in a death grip that saved her. She was better prepared when Anne Arundel’s blow hit. Katie had been alert enough to hear the barely audible whistle as the leather whisked through the air. The smack hurt but Katie just clenched her teeth. At least she didn’t have to do any counting nonsense. After that it was just routine. Whistle, Clench, Smack, Pain, Hold On For Dear Life. Katie’s mind started drifting off into space as the pain became non-stop. After 12 she actually lost count. After the blows ceased she devoted all of her attention to listening for the soft whistle of the descending tawse. The whistle that never came. And Nancy actually had to raise her voice to get Katie’s attention, “Katie Horrigan, it is all right to stand up now”. The blond girl stood there blinking, her hands at her side, fingers clenching and unclenching. Nancy quickly realized that the girl was a bit stunned and said, “You did fine Katie. Stand over there, nose to the wall. And hold your skirts up so that all can see the marks of your punishment.”
Diane O’Neil
Red-headed Diane O’Neil thought that actually Katie did great. She admired the quiet way that Katie had taken a lead role this summer. Diane was uncertain whether she liked Katie so much as she hated the loud, obnoxious, pushy Linda Wilson. But in any case, Diane thought that Katie’s backside didn’t look all that bad. Yes, it was covered in red marks from top to bottom and from side to side. They looked swollen and painful. But Diane, who had many a spanking when she was a little kid and therefore considered herself to be an expert in these matters, thought that Katie would escape without any bruises. Who knows, maybe a little redness tomorrow morning and that would be it. And Diane thought it was cute looking at Katie’s pussy. Katie clenched her buttocks when being beaten which made her private parts appear and disappear. Kind of like it was winking at her. She had to control herself to keep from laughing. Well, Diane thought to herself. You had better start thinking about yourself. If the trend continues, Diane thought, you should be up next. Your twenty should fit right in between Katie’s fifteen and Frances’ twenty-five.
Nancy Wilson took command of the situation and moved things along. “Diane O’Neil, twenty strokes of the tawse. Since your mother is spared the task of spanking you, Ms Horrigan can deliver from the left while Mrs Arundel will switch to the right. Girl, you should know what to do.” And Diane did. With no hesitation the red head jerked up her skirts, bent over and grabbed her ankles. Kathy Horrigan dealt the first blow. It hurt more than any swats Diane’s mother had given her as a little child but it was not intolerable. It could be endured. Diane counted to herself, just on the edge of audibility. And soon enough it was over.
Frances Arundel
Frances Arundel watched her blonde and red-headed classmates’ punishment with an increasing knot in her stomach. She knew she was in for twenty-five. And by the time Diane O’Neil was getting spanked, Frances knew she would be beaten by Kathy Horrigan on her left and Mary O’Neil on her right. She had really never been spanked before. Maybe her mom had given her a swat or two when she was a real little kid. But she had no memory of it. And that video had given her a real fright. The girl in it had been given a real beating. She had been beaten to the verge of bleeding. And she caught a glimpse of the backside of the girl’s older sister. That girl had been beaten until she was bleeding. How would she be able to handle the pain? What was she going to look like afterwards? She had been going to the Council pool a lot this summer and had gotten a pretty good tan. Lately, most of the time she wore her new bikini. It was not all that brief, her mother wouldn’t allow it. But she was afraid that there would be bruises. And that they would extend out beyond where the fabric of the bikini bottom covered. She would be too embarrassed to go to the pool. Then Mrs. Wilson called her up and she figured she would have bigger problems than worrying about going to the pool. Like keeping the shrimp and crab down because her stomach was really acting up right now.
Mrs. Wilson called up Frances Arundel and excused Mrs. Arundel. Her battery would now consist of the two women of Irish extraction plying their tawses on a girl of classic English descent. Being Maltese, this brought a twinkle to the Nancy’s eye and a bit of her smile curled the corner of her mouth. She thought the brunette girl looked a bit pale and queasy despite her tan. She would need to learn to keep out of the sun. Her skin darkened all too easily. She looked over at the two girls standing over by the wall. The skirts of their nightgowns were hiked up revealing rounded bottoms shining red above pale thin legs. A nice contrast. Frances’ legs were tanned as were the outer portions of her arse cheeks whereas the central globes of her arse were quite white. That would soon change. Ms Horrigan and Ms O’Neil were starting to understand their jobs and get into a rhythm.
Frances was bent over and her head was between her knees. When she bent over she tucked the hem of her nightdress under her chin so it didn’t fall and cover her face when she grabbed her ankles. The first few strikes with the tawses were not too bad but as the two mothers hit their stride the blows were raining down incessantly. Frances was having a hard time controlling herself and she started to cry after the first dozen. As her sobbing increased the tears and snot started clogging up her nose. Soon with every sob she was blowing and sucking snot. This plus being head down increased the pressure in her stomach. Soon she was coughing and gasping and choking. Just as she was on the verge of vomiting the beating stopped. They had reached twenty-five. She stood, stopped crying and belched. She could taste acid in the back of her throat. She obviously couldn’t take anymore. Holding her nightgown up, she began to walk over toward the wall where Katie and Diane were standing when Mrs. Wilson’s voice brought her to a halt.
“Where are you going, young lady” intoned the tall raven-haired woman, “I seem to recall that you earned yourself a small penalty with a comment you made earlier this evening.” Frances’ face now became very pale. Mrs Wilson looked at Maggie Fletcher and said, “For a penalty what do you think about five swats with the big leather paddle? Naked?”. The teacher nodded in assent. “Well Frances, better take off your nightie.” commanded Nancy Wilson. Mrs Wilson continued as the brunette girl began to unbutton the back of her nightgown. “We have had all three mothers exercise their arms with the tawses. I guess I can do my part with the paddle.” While Frances undid the buttons at the cuffs of her nightgown, Mrs Wilson walked over to the table where the laundry was usually sorted and folded. There she picked up a large, thick leather paddle very similar to the implement used on Sandra in the video. After Frances pulled her nightgown over her head, Mrs Wilson indicated that the girl should put it on the laundry table. Then she had the girl stand a little more than a meter from the table. Then Frances had to bend over and grasp the edge of the table. “Yes, girl. I want you to brace yourself so that the force of the blow doesn’t knock you off balance. See how we learn from the video.”
And with that statement Mrs Wilson gripped the paddle with both hands and swung with all her might. The leather hit the girl across the globes of her buttocks and she cried out loudly. Nancy immediately swung again and again hit the girl’s backside squarely. Frances screamed and gasped for breath. Mrs Wilson swung her head around and glared at Katie and Diane who had taken their noses off the wall and were watching Frances’ ordeal. “You two. Put your noses on the wall or you will strip off and get your bottoms really bruised” she barked. Then she went back to the sobbing brunette girl and beat her arse a third time eliciting another “OOOOOHHHHHHH” from her. Finally when the girl’s sobs decreased a bit, Nancy hit her a fourth and then rapidly a fifth time. At this point Frances’ knees buckled and she collapsed in a heap on the floor. Then she crawled over to the stationary laundry sink and hauled herself up. Frances then began to retch. Soon enough she was vomiting up creamy chunks of what could easily be identified as shrimp and mussels. The naked girl shuddered as she continued to empty her stomach. When nothing was coming up except mucous streaked with greenish bile, Frances turned the tap and washed her face. Then she went over and stood next to Katie and Diane. Although the blonde and the red head had arses that were crimson red, Frances’ was purple turning black and blue. It would be awhile before she would put on her bikini and traipse off to the Council pool.
Breaking The Brat
Nancy Wilson’s daughter was due up next. Nancy made it short and sweet, “Linda Wilson, 50 swats and a severe penalty. Ms Horrigan and Ms O’Neil, 50 of your best, please.”
Linda was next and she knew it. There was nothing she could do but lift up the hem of her nightgown, bend over and grab her ankles. Katie’s and Diane’s mothers were going to beat her and she couldn’t do a thing about it. But some day she would get hers back. Kathy hit her first.
By now Kathy knew what she was doing and she had quickly acquired a dislike for the dark haired girl. Everything the girl did, everything she said screamed out ‘Brat’. So Kathy showed no mercy bringing the tawse down on the snow-white buttocks with all the force she could muster. The tawse made the most curious sound when it hit the ample behind. Sort of a slap, sort of a pop, sort of a plop.
The pain seared through Linda’s bottom and jolted through her body into her brain. Although she was more robust that the slightly built three other girls in her Disciplinary Circle, she did not have anywhere their self control. Not only had she never known corporal punishment, she had never known much discipline of any kind. She was a brat and she always acted upon her first impulse. She released her ankles, grabbed her burning behind, stood up and literally danced around howling at the top of her lungs. This was outrageous. She would not stand for any of this. She would report them all to the police. As soon as she got her cell phone back she would call and they would all go to prison. She would run away and never come back.
Maggie Fletcher spoke. “Linda, is your tantrum over? Then, you will hoist up your gown, bend back over and hold your ankles. We will pretend that your little act didn’t happen. Kathy, start all over again, that stroke didn’t count.”
And so Linda tried again. But when Kathy hit her again, the same song and dance occurred. This time Linda fell to the floor and rolled around. Maggie was not pleased. She turned to Mrs Wilson and said, “Strip her. I want the three girls to hold her over the edge of the table. We will brook no more displays of this sort.” Mrs Wilson was horrified but she knew that she was losing control of the situation. She told Kathy and Mary to grab Linda’s arms and haul her up off the floor. Then Nancy went behind her daughter and undid the buttons on the back of her nightgown. Then she undid the buttons fastening the cuffs. Then she took the hem of her daughter’s nightie and lifted it up and over the girls head. As Linda stood there, held by Ms Horrigan and Ms O’Neil, Mrs Wilson did have to acknowledge that the adolescent girl had bloomed early with full hips and rounded breasts and yet a narrow waist. She would turn the head of any young man if she did not go over-ripe too quickly. Then Mrs Wilson summoned the three remaining girls. Frances was bid to put her nightgown back on. Katie and Diane were to stand on the far side of the utility table, each holding one of Linda’s wrists and stretching her across the table. Frances was to crouch at the near side of the laundry table and hug Linda’s calves, preventing the dark haired girl from kicking out. With the brat thus secured, Ms. Horrigan and Ms O’Neil could do their duty without further interruptions.
And ply their trade they did. They ignored the screams and threats that Linda incessantly hurled at them. They alternately rained down their blows striking what started out as pale skin beginning at the waist and continuing down to just above the knees. Linda squirmed and struggled but her three classmates took a perverse pleasure in holding her down. After twenty blows of the tawses Linda’s backside and flanks were a uniform cherry red. After thirty strikes her buttocks and thighs were a single solid swollen welt. After forty swats it was a mass of purple bruise. By this point Linda was hoarse and the volume of the screaming began to less as her voice began to give out. Her body noticeably slackened. And all of a sudden Frances let out a shout. “EEEUUUAHH!” exclaimed the brunette, letting go of Linda’s lower legs, “She’s pissing herself”. Sure enough, a puddle of foul smelling urine was spreading over the floor around Linda’s feet and the front of Frances’ nightgown was darkened and damped. Maggie told Frances not to be so fastidious and for the women to get back to her work. Fortunately, Kathy and Mary had only another four blows to go to get to fifty. At this point the three girls released their victim. Linda just limply lay across the table, naked and sobbing. Her backside was mottled black and blue and there were spots were the skin was superficially torn. Some blood blisters had formed and were oozing. The girl took her hands and rubbed her swollen and blistered buttocks.
Mrs. Wilson was pale, appalled by the damage done to her youngest daughter. “Don’t worry”, said Ms Fletcher, “the cuts are only quite superficial and the bruises will fade in a week or two.” Maggie hoped that her confident prediction would prove true. The teacher then put the three girls to work cleaning up the mess that Linda had made. Fortunately, the utility room was just that. It was a room designed for making a mess with tiled floor and walls. A bit of work with a mop and a pail of Lysol and things were cleaner than before. Frances’ nightgown was another matter. “Ugh, it’s ruined, the incontinent bitch ruined it” she exclaimed in disgust. “Nonsense girl” said Maggie. “Just take it off and launder it. That’s a washing machine over there. That’s what they are made for, to wash things. Get to it. About time you learned to do your own things.” Soon enough Frances was naked again and the washing machine was sloshing away.
Linda’s Penalty
Maggie then turned her attention to the girl bent over the laundry table quietly sobbing and rubbing her backside. “Linda” Ms Fletcher began, “we haven’t forgotten about you and your penalty. We have just been cleaning up the mess you have made. Since you have pissed all over us, I think that your pisser should pay the price.” Linda had heard everything Maggie had said. She stood up immediately, covered her pubes with her hands and danced up and down crying, “No, No, No, No. You can’t hurt my gina. No not my gina!” Maggie came back “Do you mean your vagina. Technically we are not going inside you vagina. We are going to beat your perineum. We are going to give you a rather thorough pussy whipping. You have been impertinent, intemperate, incontinent, and totally out of control. Nothing but the most severe punishment will do.” Mrs Wilson trembled at the thought of what they were going to do to her daughter, but she sensed that much of the problem was her own fault. And so she kept silent, knowing that soon enough she would suffer for her failings. She had lost control of the evening and Maggie had taken over.
Maggie summoned the three girls back to work. She told Frances to put on Linda’s nightgown. It was Linda’s fault that Frances’ gown had been soiled so Linda could go naked for it. Then Maggie made Linda sit on the table. Then lie back on it. Frances held Linda’s arms. Then Katie and Diane lifted up and spread Linda’s legs. The three of them held Linda in a splayed leg position that left her most private parts open for all to see but more frighteningly, to all to hit. Maggie then turned to Kathy and Mary and told them, “Each of you give her ten. Right where it will hurt the most.” And so they did. In a little over two minutes it was accomplished. At first Linda was screaming at the top of her lungs. At the end she was gasping for air. After the girls released their grip on Linda’s arms and legs, she grabbed her pussy with her hands, pulled up her knees into a fetal position and curled over on her side onto the utility table. She lay there quietly sobbing. The brat had broken and could do nothing but mewl a protest.
Dr O’Brien’s Arrival
As the five women and the four girls stood there catching their collective breath, the door to the utility room opened. In walked Dr. Agnes O’Brien accompanied by the maid and the cook. The two servants were still sporting their outlandish uniforms with short skirts underlain by crinoline petticoats. The skirts were so short that they revealed bare thigh above the tops of their suspendered stockings, black in the case of the maid and white in the case of the cook. The arms of the maid were loaded with brightly gift wrapped packages. Agnes looked about and smiled broadly motioning for the maid to put the packages down on an open spot on the laundry table. Dr O’Brien said “Well I see that Ms Fletcher and Mrs Wilson have things well in hand.” She walked over to the table where Linda lay curled up in a fetal position and admired the bruising of the girl’s backside. Agnes said, “Well that’s a job well done. Nothing like getting ready for school by teaching a girl the consequences of misbehaviour. How did the other girls do.” Mrs Wilson instructed the three other girls to turn around and hoist the skirts of their nightgowns. They displayed their reddened and, in some spots, bruised buttocks. Agnes approvingly nodded and commented “By the time classes begin I will bet that these girls will be on their best behaviour. Well, Mrs Wilson, shall we get on with it.”
Nancy Wilson gathered her wits about her and realized that Dr. O’Brien had given her the opportunity to get back in control of the situation. She had the maid take Linda upstairs and put her to bed. She had the cook take Katie, Diane and Frances up to the guest room and put all three of them in the big king-sized bed. As soon as the girls were settled in the servants should return. That left the four mothers, Ms Fletcher and Dr O’Brien here in the basement utility room. Nancy thought to herself, ‘I guess our time is at hand’.
Spanking the Muses
Maggie Fletcher addressed the gathered mothers explaining that central to the new St. Margaret’s way of doing things was to hold mothers to the same standards as expected of the girls. Since the girls wore uniforms, in public the women were to dress modestly. No short skirts, no slacks, no tights, no tee shirts, no overly snug or low cut tops. Since the girls were subject to corporal punishment, the mums were to share in that punishment. That included the Disciplinary Circle activities and Saturday detentions. But since the girls were thirteen years old, there were certain limits to their punishment. The mums on the other hand were mature women. Fifteen swats was significant punishment to a thirteen year old girl. Fifteen swats was nothing to a grown woman. Therefore, in the Disciplinary Circle, the mothers would get twice the dose that the daughters got. As they did the mental arithmetic their reactions varied from a sober stare on the part of Kathy Horrigan and Mary O’Neil, through a visible gulp on the part of Anne Arundel to shocked horror on the part of Nancy Wilson. The lips of the tall, buxom black haired lady could be seen to form the words “One Hundred Swats” several times over. Maggie said, “We will start with Ms. Horrigan, Ms O’Neil and Mrs Arundel. Ladies remove your robes and hang them on the hooks over there.”
The three ladies untied the belts of their dressing gowns and undid the six buttons that held the bodices closed. Their bodies were smooth and sleek as they hung their robes. They were now naked excepting their pastel stockings and matching high heeled pumps. Agnes stood next to Nancy and made commentary in a quiet tone. “They are truly a well matched set, are they not? One blonde, one red headed and one is a brunette. They are all pretty much similar in height with long elegant legs and pert behinds. They all have beautiful shoulder length hair. They have only one child apiece and have never breast fed. No cesarean sections and lots of working out. Look how little their breast sag and there is not a belly on any of them. I truly think of them as my three muses. Graceful and lithe. I consider them the pick of this year’s First Form. They are Maggie’s. And they are yours. I want my muses to receive special attention. And you my Nancy will be the Queen of my Muses.
Kathy’s mind was a bit befuddled as she listened to Maggie explaining the rubrics of the chastisement. The highest level of her consciousness was quite attentive. She would do her part and play her role with composure and self control. She had been beaten in school with a tawse not dissimilar to those that they were using tonight. Most frequently on the hands and occasionally on the panty clad bottom. But she had certainly never been beaten while naked like tonight and that seemed to make a big difference. Thirty swats with the tawse could be physically managed. But the deeper, more reptilian part of her brain was in turmoil. The nakedness and beatings of the girls had roused her in a way she had never experienced before. She had enough sex to get lumbered at fourteen. However that sex was semi-forced on her by the brutal and coarse boys she then knew. It was not something she particularly sought out. It was more that the guys sensed her vulnerability and went for her like a pack of wolves until she gave in. After Katie was born she would have nothing to do with men for several years. In her early twenties she upon occasion cruised the pubs. She was more looking for a husband than looking for sex. After a few furtive couplings it finally sunk in that men weren’t interested in being husbands, they just wanted to shoot their rocks off. Kathy would get by using her vibrator for the last few years but even that seldom gave her any kind of a real climax.
But the sight of those naked well beaten buttocks shining red under the fluorescent lights had aroused Kathy. And the sight of well developed Linda’s breasts bouncing when her backside was struck really got to her. But when they laid Linda on her back, spread her legs and whipped her pussy, Kathy could not control herself. Those dressing gowns were so devilishly constructed with no fastenings below the fabric belt. It was so easy to slip her left hand in between the edges in the front and finger her slit. To slip her left index finger in below the hood and lightly diddle her clit. Kathy had wished that the beating of Linda’s privates could have gone on forever. It wasn’t an orgasm but it was sweet arousal like nothing Kathy had never experienced before. And it was strange. In a minute or so, she was going to be beaten. Kathy would have to bend over naked, breasts dangling and spread her legs and hold her ankles. And be beaten thirty times. And she was even more aroused by the prospect of the beating than she had been by Linda’s pussy whipping. She had never been this aroused in her life.
The protocol was the same as for the girls. Kathy went first and Anne and Mary were going to spank her. Again they used the tawses and Kathy knew just what to expect. As she bent over and held her ankles Agnes sidled over to Maggie and quietly told her to take a careful look at Kathy’s privates. A whitish, lightly cloudy, viscous liquid was starting to not simply ooze but to actually drip from Kathy’s vagina. Anne and Mary did not feel like wasting any time and the first dozen blows from the straps rained down in rapid fire order. Nancy actually had to tell them to slow down and take a breather. During this pause the vaginal secretions actually began to form a puddle on the tile floor beneath Kathy. The lady’s reaction to her beating was highly subdued. Agnes suspected that Kathy was deep inside her own head, probably being erotically stimulated by the tanning of her arse by the tawses. Agnes smiled to herself as she considered that the erotic stimulation and orgasm frustration would continue to build because Kathy could not climax until given a specific hypnotic release. Steve had given the crucial codes and passwords to Agnes (she had insisted on it of course). And it would be several hours before Agnes would give any of the women permission to have an orgasm. Kathy did indeed feel pain from the thirty lashes with the leather straps but this was overwhelmed by the rising tide of unrequited passion.
When with her punishment finished Kathy stood back up, she was dry eyed. Such was her craving that she looked forward to the opportunity to again beat some arse. She was quire ready to inflict as much pain on Mary, Anne and Nancy as she could. And Mary would be next, the target of forty lashes with the tawse. Although this was more than Kathy had received, Anne was administering the strikes from the right and her backhand was not as effective as Mary’s vicious left-handed forehand stroke. So the only stroke of the pair of blows that really hurt was Kathy’s. When Anne would hit Mary, the red head would hardly even flinch. But when Kathy hit Mary the red head would start forward a bit and her ample buttocks would flatten and her pendulous breasts would shake. As the punishment neared its end, Mary’s face became as red as her hair, tears started running from her eyes and her breathing became labored. She was very glad that the punishment was going quickly and she didn’t have to bother with all the bullshit ritual recitation of ‘Thank You’s” and counting. Forty blows came and Mary was snuffling when she stood up. She put her thumb and forefinger to her nose and blew the snot out to Nancy’s horror and the great amusement of Kathy and Anne. She rubbed her thoroughly reddened arse briefly and wondered if she would have much in the way of bruises tomorrow morning. Then she walked over to Anne and took the tawse out of her hand signifying that it was now the brunette’s turn to bend over and be beaten.
Anne Arundel had a little bit more difficult time with her beating than either the blonde or the red head did. For one thing she had more swats to endure and for another she had two batters that were each highly competent at swinging the tawse. About every ten lashes it was necessary for Anne to readjust her grip on her ankles. After forty swats Anne had to really concentrate to take the last ten with equanimity. Kathy and Mary seemed to sense the growing desperation of their victim and really put an effort into each of their last five. Anne would start forward with every blow and her tormentors were really focusing their efforts on the globes of her buttocks. Purple bruise was spreading over her backside with every hit. By the time fifty came it was obvious that it would probably be a week or maybe two before Anne could wear a bathing suit without revealing the fruits of her discipline. She went over to the side of the room and stood there with her back to the wall rubbing her bruised backside. Comparing notes, Agnes and Maggie agreed that if Kathy was transparently aroused by her beating and Mary might have been a little turned on, Anne had received little or no erotic stimulation from her thorough arse bruising.
Nancy Wilson
While the ‘three muses’ were being spanked Nancy Wilson appeared to be off in a world of her own. Neither Agnes nor Maggie had any idea of what was going on in her head as she stared off into space. Earlier that evening she had seen her daughter loose control in a rather spectacular fashion. And Nancy was destined for far sterner punishment. In fact, only Dr. O’Brien knew what was in store for the tall, buxom, black haired woman. Sooner or later Agnes intended to break this arrogant lady. And with the opportunity presenting itself sooner, Dr. O’Brien would jump at the chance. First things must be slowed down a bit so that anxiety could corrode its way further into Nancy’s mind. Agnes had an instinctive understanding of the role of anxiety and humiliation in punishment and the way in which these factors could enhance, magnify and focus physical pain.
But first Agnes had to get her attention. “Nancy. Nancy! NANCY!!” began Dr O’Brien. This jolted her out of her wool gathering. “Your turn is next. I think you need to take off your dressing gown and hang it up over there.” Agnes’ sadomasochistic physico-psychological assault was about to begin.
As Nancy Wilson was in the process of removing her dressing gown, Agnes began to question her:
Had she gone to a convent school back in Malta? Why yes.
What order of nuns? Why Ursulines.
Ah, what kind of discipline were the students subjected to? Why, very little as she remembered.
Did the nuns ever beat her? Well, no, this wasn’t the middle ages you know, it was the 1980’s.
Well, how did she feel about being beaten now? She guessed it was what she had to do.
Well, how did she feel about being naked? She didn’t like it but she had to do it.
Dr. O’Brien could see the conflicts building within the lady. She knew that Nancy had a strong sexual drive. The stories were rampant about the young men, actually teen aged boys, that Laura would bring home only to have her mother seduce. When naked, Nancy was revealed not just to have pleasingly large breasts but rather to have enormous breast. They did not look to be surgically enhanced, just enormous. Unsupported as they now were, they did sag down, but not as much as Agnes expected. Similarly, although broad in the hips, Nancy had not yet gone to fat. Love handles had not yet begun to hang down from her waist and her thighs remained undimpled. But all of this was undoubtedly achieved at an enormous cost in dietary effort and exercise. One small run of excess and indolence and the entire edifice would probably collapse in an excrescence of flab, sag and cellulite. So here was the paradox. A woman with enormous appetites, for food, for men, for drink. Kept in check. But full of fear. Fear of what? Of excess that leads to decay. Of letting go and having all go to hell. Behind this haughty and ambitious woman what were the emotions screaming for release? Dr. O’Brien would find out.
“Nancy,” said Dr. O’Brien, “Your chastisement will take place in two phases. We limit the amount of punishment given in a single modality. No more than 50 strokes are given to the backside with a strap or the cane. So your backside will receive fifty leather kisses and then we will determine how to apportion the other fifty. Do you understand”. The statuesque raven haired woman nodded. Dr. O’Brien then added “You will be restrained from the very beginning. From the behaviour of your daughter, it is obvious that your family is unfamiliar with chastisements. I see no reason to repeat the silly-shallying we went through with Linda. Here, open this box.” Agnes took a pair of brightly wrapped, beribboned square packages from the utility table and handed them to Nancy. “Think of this as a butt warming present” she said. Agnes also handed Maggie a long gift wrapped box and said “Save this for later”.
Nancy opened her present first. Inside were a pair of manacles. Bright chromed handcuffs trimmed with leather such that the edges of the cuffs would not chafe the skin of the wrists. There were also assorted lengths of 5 and 6 mm braided nylon line in bright colors. Nancy was a woman of the world and surfed the net enough to know what this was all about. A thrill of fear course through her veins. She realized that she was not simply going to be spanked. She was going to be bound and then beaten. She would have no choice. No chance for the pain and torment to end until her mistresses willed. She was meat to be chopped and pounded. She tossed the manacles into a corner of the room and dropped to her knees blubbering, “Please, Dr. O’Brien, not this, please don’t chain me up. I’ll be good. I will do what you want. I will obey. Just don’t tie me up.” Nancy hurled herself naked at the feet of the headmistress and sobbing clasped her around the ankles kissing the tips of her sensible brown shoes. At this point Agnes knew she had hit pay dirt. What ever Nancy’s psyche evolved around, fear of losing control, of being a hopeless victim, of being a bound slave, was a significant component. Dr. O’Brien commanded the three muses: “Kathy and Mary, each of you grasp one of Nancy’s wrists. Bring her to her feet. Anne retrieve the cuffs. I want the three of you to cuff Nancy’s hands in front of her.” And so it was done. But not without a struggle. It took a significant effort on the part of the three women to subdue the crying, histrionic dark haired lady. All were panting with the effort by the time Nancy was handcuffed and forced to bend across the laundry table. Once this was accomplished one of the ropes was used to fasten the manacles to the cross member of the brace connecting the paired legs. Then another length of line tied her ankles together. The running portion of the line was also fastened to the cross member so that Nancy could not kick up her bound feet. The helpless woman could do nothing but wiggle a bit and turn her head to the side and wail her dissatisfaction.
The Texas Prison Strap
Dr. O’Brien now had Nancy exactly where she wanted her. Without a single blow being landed or any pain inflicted she had deduced that Nancy had a morbid fear of being tied up. And being able to play upon fear was at the core of breaking someone and ultimately controlling them. Agnes turned to Kathy and instructed her to open Nancy’s other present. As the blonde removed the wrapping, a low whistle issued from between her lips. Ooohs and Aaahs came from Anne and Mary as Kathy unfolded the three quarters of a meter long length of heavy leather. Kathy passed the strap around to her fellow muses so that they could appreciate its heft and stiffness. Then she grasped the strap by its wooden handle and gave it a trial swing or two. As it was driven through the air it generated a palpable swoosh. And a trial swat delivered to the top of the laundry table resulted in an explosion of noise. Kathy aimed a trial swat at Mary, just barely missing the red head. Soon the blond was chasing Mary and Anne around the utility room taking mock swats at them as all three giggled and squealed.
“Ladies, ladies! You are acting like school girls with a new toy. Behave yourselves and get down to the task at hand.” reprimanded Dr. O’Brien who was inwardly delighted at the reception the three ladies gave her present. She also noted Nancy’s reaction to the strap. The raven-haired beauty turned her head away and cried all the harder. “Settle down! Now I want Kathy and Mary to get to work. You know your positions.” explained Dr. O’Brien as she handed the strap to Ms Horrigan. “This is Texas Prison Strap. They do things differently over in the colonies. Here we regard spanking as light punishment, something that will terrify only a schoolgirl. When we get serious we raise welts with the cane. When you three ladies were strapped with the tawse, Ms Horrigan and Ms O’Neil walked away with nothing more than red arses that will be back to normal by tomorrow morning. Mrs Arundel’s fifty with tawse left bruises that will be gone by Monday. On an arse like Mrs Wilson’s fifty with the tawse would be like a hand spanking. In America when they want to terrify a schoolgirl they use a Spenser Paddle and to make an impression on an adult they tie them down and use a Texas Prison Strap. Although I could not come up with a Spenser School Paddle on short notice, London Tanners had Texas Prison Straps in stock. I can assure you that Mrs Wilson will long remember tonight’s spanking. Now I want you two ladies to alternate every five swats. And take things nice and slow.”
Kathy and Mary immediately recognized the wisdom of what Agnes was saying. This was not going to be a quick spanking. This was going to be punishment. Kathy did a real windup before delivering her first swat and the strap hit with a WACK that resounded throughout the Wilson’s basement. And Mrs. Wilson responded with a shriek that drowned out the whack. Kathy then allowed enough time for the shriek to die down before she struck again. It took almost three minutes to deliver five blows. And then it was Mary’s turn to use her left hand to deliver five strokes from Nancy’s right side. After a total of ten lashes with the Texas Prison Strap, Nancy’s buttocks were flame red and she was shaking and sobbing continuously. Kathy now started in on Nancy’s thighs. The way in which Nancy writhed and twisted in her bonds told Kathy that Dr. O’Brien was wise in supplying leather lined cuff. Otherwise Nancy’s wrists would surely now be cut and bleeding from her struggles. By the time her tormenters had delivered forty blows from the dreaded Prison Strap, Nancy’s backside was a solid swollen mass of purple bruise. To start the last ten swats off, Kathy switched to a two handed grip and really put her whole body into her swing. Nancy roared from the force of the blow. This strike raised small 1-2 mm blood blisters where it landed. Kathy grinned, knowing that that she had really hit home. She repeated the trick landing every blow with maximal force. Mary did the same and by the time the fiftieth lash had landed, beads of blood were forming all over Nancy’s torn bum and thighs. And Nancy had lost consciousness.
At this point the two servants returned from their task of putting the four girls to bed. It made quite a scene. An obtunded, pale-skinned woman with a bleeding backside was tied to a table around which stood three naked women with red arses while two dark haired women dressed in ridiculously short skirted uniforms with suspendered hose stood by. Maggie looked at Agnes and giggled.
Advisory! This story describes repressed memories of an adult woman recalling her abuse as a 13 year old girl.
If this sort of thing disturbs you, don’t read this story.
Nancy’s Memories
Agnes O’Brien was perplexed by Nancy’s behavior. From a woman of Nancy’s wealth and bearing, Agnes would have expected control and composure. Instead, at the prospect of having to undergo bondage and discipline, Nancy reacted like a child. Before they proceeded any further Dr. O’Brien wanted more background information. Therefore, she instructed the maid to get a couple of bottles of white wine and some glasses. She told the cook to take a liter of white distilled vinegar and add half a kilo of salt and bring her the solution. And after the maid brought the vinegar brine to her, she was to bring some snacks for everyone. It was time for a break. Once the vinegar brine arrived, Dr. O’Brien began to sponge the cuts on Nancy’s backside. The astringent did the trick. It not only staunched the bleeding but revived Mrs. Wilson from her faint. Not that she enjoyed the revival but bound to the table there was not much she could do about it. Normally, Agnes did not like to fiddle with any of the hypnotic programming Steve had put in place, but this would be one exception. She would not be making any changes but just obtaining information. Dr. O’Brien whispered into Nancy’s ear “Dreamtime, Nancy. When you wake up I am going to ask you some questions and I want you to tell me the truth. Now count to twenty and then wake up.”
Agnes boosted herself up onto the laundry table so that she could comfortably chat with Mrs Wilson. That is comfortably for Agnes. As for Mrs Wilson, cuffed and bound across a table is not usually the most comfortable position in the world but at least no one was currently beating her. Agnes began asking a series of questions:
“Nancy, did the nuns or anyone else in school ever beat you.” “No”
“Did your mother or father ever beat you” “No, they died when I was young.”
“When you were younger did any one ever beat you” “Yes”
“Who beat you” “My cousin Anthony”
“How did he beat you” “Usually with his belt as part of games we were playing”
“How old were you” “I was thirteen”
“How old was he” “He was fifteen”
“Did he beat anyone else” “My thirteen year old non-identical twin sister and my thirteen year old cousin”
Nancy, I want you to tell me all about these beatings, all the details, leaving nothing out.
“It was summer and there was no school. There was an abandoned building in a corner of the family estate in Malta where no one ever went. My cousin Tony had discovered it. We made a windowless room behind a heavy wooden door in the back of the basement our secret play room. There we acted out the secret plays we made up. Tony, Angela my sister, and Maria, Tony’s sister. There we had our secret games the favorites of which were ‘Doctor’ and ‘Captives’.
Playing Doctor
“One of our uncles, Fredrico was a physician and in one part of the estate had a rather substantial clinic. Tony would pretend that he was his uncle Fredrico and we were his nurses and patients. At night, when everyone was asleep, we would sneak into the clinic and borrow medical things. We would stash them in our secret hiding place for a few days. We would play with them before returning them. Some we kept for several weeks. Like Tony’s green surgical scrubs. Like Maria’s nurse’s top. Ang and I had pediatric patient gowns. Of course that would be all we were wearing. Marie’s top came down barely to cover her ass and her pussy. Ang and my gowns came down to mid thigh but were so small that they couldn’t really be closed in the back. So they were just tied at the top and our butts were exposed for the most part. All of this was OK because usually the first thing after we changed into our costumes was the spanking. You see we were all bad nurses and patients. So right away it was bend over and hold you ankles and Tony would ‘tan your hides’ with his belt. That was to warm us up. After a while you got used to the spankings and they didn’t hurt as much as they excited. And we were excited because we were always playing different games depending on what we had borrowed from the clinic. We had found an ancient table and we pretended it was an examining or operating table. So by the flickering lights of the candles we filched we played medical games.”
“What kinds of games?”
“It depended on what we had. Sometimes it was taking the patient’s temperature with a rectal thermometer. After the spankings Tony would always inspect our holes with his finger. All three of us girls would often take off our costumes and do exercises while naked. Things like jumping jacks, squats or upside down bicycling. When we had no medical equipment available we would practice bondage using what rope we had.
“Onetime we borrowed a big pair of surgical forceps. We would use these as nipple clamps. Particularly on me. Angela had not yet started menstruating and she had no tits. Maria had been having periods for a year but still had nothing in the way of boobs. I had just started having monthlies but already I had something to show for it. Tony said that I didn’t have boobies yet, but I had buddies. I remember once having mouse-toothed forceps clamped onto my nipples and then having these strung up. I was wrenched up on my tip toes, naked with my hands tied behind my back. The forceps had sharp jaws with teeth in them. This caused my nipples to bleed. And it was that time of month for me. Tony made Angela and Maria alternately sucking the blood from my pussy and licking the blood from my nipples while he whipped my ass with a switch. That was a really wild afternoon.
“Once we found a Foley catheter and really had fun with that. Tony made sure we did a thorough cleaning and disinfection. Then he inserted the catheter and inflated the bulb at the end to hold it in. We all used to get the giggles when the clamp was released and the urine tinkled out. Then we used to pull the catheter out without deflating the bulb. That would really cause the patient to jump as her urethra was dilated. We would see what the limit was as to how large the bulb could be inflated and still be pulled out. Angela won that contest when we were able to inflate the bulb to fifty cc and still pull it out. But poor Ang lost control of her bladder for a week afterwards. She was always having to leave the dinner table and run to the bathroom. Her panties were urine stained for weeks afterwards. We thought it was so funny.
“Often, when there was nothing else to do, either the patients or the nurse got enemas. Before the enema there was always an extra vigorous spanking. Then cleaning the bottom with strong soap and a surgical scrub brush and then the enema. Sometimes they were single bulb enemas but other times they were bowel wrenching colonic bag enemas. And always, after an enema, Tony would take us up the arse. He never fucked our pussies, only our arses. Of course, we had to suck him every day. He would pull out his penis and say, ‘clean up time’. It was really gross to have to such him after he had just buggered your sister or your cousin. The taste of her shit was all over his penis. Sometimes it was so bad, between the taste and you gagging on his dick that you barfed. It was really neat to watch your sister barfing.
“But playing Gynecology was the most fun. Tony managed to pinch a speculum and we used ropes to restrain the legs of a girl in the splayed out position. Then it was time to play pelvic exam. While the nurse held an electric lantern to illuminate the vagina Doctor Antonio would sometimes scrape the cervix with a wooden stick for a Pap smear. If Maria or I were having our periods there would be douches with straight vinegar or bleach. But not until we would make Angela remove the tampon and suck it dry. Then there were the vaginal scrubbings with a bottle brush and Lysol. And the day that we decided to open up Angela’s hymen with a tampon applicator. I found the sight of the blood from the torn hymen particularly exciting. Every girl had her chance to have her clit and lips licked and sucked until they swelled with the excitement. Then Tony would squeeze the swollen genitals with pliers until the blood ran.
Captives
“The other game we played was captives. I guess that everybody plays some form of captives but we had a particularly Maltese version of the game. It was called Christians and Arabs and it was based on our history when for centuries Malta was the often attacked Southern Mediterranean bastion of Christendom. Corsairs from the North African ports would attack commerce to and from the island and it was not unusual for female passengers to be captured by the Muslim pirates. Countless stories repeated the outrages perpetrated on the helpless victims.
“We knew all the stories and played out our versions of them. All three of us girls had elaborate native Maltese costumes for the various festivals throughout the year. We snuck these down to our secret playhouse, without the drawers of course. But blouses and bodices, skirts and petticoats were donned. We even had special corsets for girls designed to pinch in the waists but not to support the breasts which we, of course, didn’t have. Tony didn’t need any costume. As an Arab all that he needed were sandals, a loincloth, and a rag on his head. And our costumes never stayed on for long. They would be shed in elaborate ceremonies with profuse protestations of our innocence and virginity when each item of clothing was removed.
“Then would come the inspections. Every Arab knew that Christian women, upon the approach of corsairs would hide their jewels in their most intimate cavities. Therefore upon capture all women needed to be stripped and to have their cavities probed. This would of course be accompanied by further tears, shrieks and protestations. As part of changing into our festive dress, we would insert candies into our anuses and vaginas. After our stripping and examinations, Tony would make us eat the confiscated “contraband” he had extracted. Not our own but the candies recovered from the other girls cavities. We naturally competed to see who could secret the most candy. I managed once to insert an entire half a kilo of rock candy in my pussy. Maria got almost a kilo of peppermint candy up her ass and Angela was forced to eat it all. She got sicker than a dog which Maria and I found endlessly funny.
“But the main part of the captives game was the torture. The reasons for the tortures varied. Sometimes it might be to reveal where the treasure was buried. Sometimes it might be to tell when our father’s battle fleet would sail. Sometimes it might be to renounce our Christian faith and become a Mohammedan. Sometimes it would be to induce us to couple with the foul Sultan. Sometimes it was punishment for disobeying the laws of the Harem. But torture was always the lot of the captive Christian women.
“Here our ingenuity was put to the test. We could not incapacitate the victim for fear that our custodial aunts and uncles would notice. And there was always the peril of a trip to the beach where bruises would be noticed. So the thighs as targets were off limits. Some leeway was provided by the ability to wear modest shorts and a halter top when sea bathing together rather than a bikini. This meant that the whip (God knows where Anthony got that from) could be employed down to the tender junction of bum and thighs, but no lower. Of course the butt, nipples and genitals could be beaten until they bled. And they were. No captive would ever break down under torment, no matter how fiendish. We never played captive more than once a week. It took too long afterwards to recuperate.
“Then there was the play about being skinned alive. A favorite torment that the Arabs used on Christian captives was to string them up by their wrists and flay the flesh off. They would then tan the hides and stuff them, hanging the effigies from the yardarms of their ships. The nuns used to tell us stories about how it might take several days for the victims to die screaming in constant torment. The sisters said that the Arabs particularly loved to skin women. They would always start by slowing flaying the skin off their breasts, starting with the nipples. Then they would strip the flesh off their buttocks. Finally they would slice off their genitals starting with the hood of the clitoris, then the clitoris itself, and finally the inner and outer labia. This process was called infibulation. The nuns said that even today the Muslims still perform this operation, without anesthesia, on their women. It was obvious that we could not exactly repeat this procedure but we toyed around with the idea. One of us girls would be tied down to the table and a stick for her to bite down on would be placed between her teeth. We would make tiny cuts in either the nipple and areola or in her genitals. Once the blood started to flow we would alternate sucking the blood with rubbing salt into the wounds. All three of us loved to get our chance to have a go at the knife. I think that I had my first orgasm playing infibulation.
“One piece of equipment made our last several episodes of captive special. Tony managed to find a chain hoist. This, when attached to a ceiling beam of our basement secret playhouse enabled the poor Christian virgin to be suspended in the air in ways that constantly challenged our imaginations. My favorite was to have my hands and ankles secured behind my back in a position referred to as ‘the hog tie’ and attached to the chain. I would then be hoisted about three feet into the air. Only if you have been in this position can you realize the pain to the joints of this suspension. To make things worse you are completely immobilized and your most sensitive parts are wickedly exposed. Maria and Angela used to be delighted to take lighted candles and play the flames under my nipples and genitals. Maria was always scared that she would badly burn me but my sister had the uncanny ability to apply the flame until small burn blisters would just start to form and then back away. My howls of pain drove her into a frenzy. Tony had a different approach. He used a needle to pass thread through the out lips of my pussy. He then spread my labia by tying the thread around my thighs. With the outer portion of my vagina thus exposed, he would see how many times he could light, and then extinguish a cigarette by snuffing it out on my vaginal skin. After about a dozen vaginal burns I usually fainted.
The Branding
“But the last torment we played was the most exciting. One of the books that Anthony had to read that summer was about the slave trade. In one chapter they described the branding of slaves. One evening in early August was the eve of Maria’s fourteenth birthday. We decided to honor her with a branding. First we hung her by her wrists and gave her the good whipping that every slave deserves. We had earlier fashioned small branding irons out of pieces of wire coat hangers stuck into wooden handles. We started a small charcoal fire in our secret playroom and procured some olive oil. After her whipping Maria was tied to our sturdy table. Her freshly shaved pubis was coated with olive oil so that the hot branding iron would not stick to her flesh. The rest of the oil was put in a small pot and placed on the charcoal fire to heat. Maria was given a folded piece of leather to bite down on while we waited for the oil to come to the boil. Anthony declared that hereafter Maria was to be his slave and we would burn an A into her mons veneris to acknowledge her owned status. Then Tony heated a 3-4 cm long piece of wire in the boiling oil. After a minute or two he grabbed the wooden handle of the makeshift iron and pressed it into her pubic flesh. Maria writhed and cried out until Tony removed the wire leaving a livid scarlet / in her skin. I took the wooden-handled wire and heated it again. When I thought it was hot enough I made the second mark on Maria’s mons, almost at a right angle to the first. Now she had a ^ burned into her pubis. Angela now took a second, shorter piece of wire, heated it in the boiling oil and burned a crosspiece into Maria, completing the A. This truly was our finest hour and Maria was faint, sweating and shaking when we were done.
Out of Eden
“Childhood never lasts forever and neither did our adolescent idyll. I will never know how the elder generation became aware of our secret playhouse and the games we engaged in. But learn they did. Angela and I had gone to visit distant relatives on the other side of the island. After two days we came back to discover that Anthony had been sent off to boarding school in England two weeks earlier than expected. Maria had been pulled out of the Ursuline School in Valetta and sent off to a convent school in Naples, Italy. Angela and I were trooped off to our secret playhouse by two of our aunts. There we were forced to strip and were strung up by our wrists. ‘So we understand that you two girls like to taste the whip. Well you are going to get a surfeit of it now.’ And with that began the worst whipping of my life. I have no idea how many times my two aunts hit me. I do remember losing consciousness three times and being revived with smelling salts twice.
“After the last time I woke up in my bed in the big house and it was the next day. My wounds and the wounds of my sister had been expertly dressed (I suspect by our Uncle Fredo). But when I removed my nightdress to bathe, the agony of freshening the scabs caused me to once again faint. The next day I counted the number of cuts on my sister’s body. There were one hundred and two of them. I didn’t even attempt to count the bruises as they all basically merged into one gigantic bruise that covered her body from just below the armpits to just above the knees. Angela was uninterested in counting the cuts on my body but I think that I took the worst of it. I know that my pussy was so badly lashed that it was three weeks before I could urinate without grinding my teeth because of the pain of spreading my labia. Angela and I were in bed for a week subsisting on broth and bread alone. It was another week before we could walk without pain. We were excused from gym class for a month after classes resumed that fall so that the marks of our punishment would not disgrace the family.
“The family never talked about what went on between the four of us that summer. And with time all memory of it has been repressed. Anthony, not surprisingly, became a doctor and now is an under-minister in the Dept of Health. Maria, ran away from her Italian convent school at seventeen. She never did develop much of a figure but got an obscene pair of silicone breast implants. She became a Eurotrash Porn Star called Messilina and is currently the Hostess of “Wheals of Fortune” on the S&M Network. Her name is anathema in the family. I was married off to Andy Wilson immediately after graduation from the Ursuline School. Angela was married two years later to a Maltese family as wealthy and distinguished as our own. Today she is the mother of one son and five daughters. I am not close to her and upon my infrequent visits back to Malta I have never asked her about her sex life. And I have no desire to know.”
Dr O’Brien whispered in her ear. “When you are next punished you will imagine that you are once again a little girl. Anthony is punishing you. You are once again in the secret play house.“ And with that Nancy Wilson dropped off to sleep.
While Nancy slumbered, Agnes instructed Maggie. Maggie then directed the three muses to untie the somnolent lady and reposition her on her back on the table. A rope was passed around Mrs Wilson’s waist and secured to one edge of the table. Because this left her hips and legs dangling off it was necessary for Anne to grasp Nancy under the knees and keep her up or she would have slid off the table. Kathy and Mary working together were able to pull Nancy’s hands over her head and secure them to the far side of the utility table. Now Mary gave Anne a hand and they lifted up Nancy’s long but full legs so that Kathy could secure them to the far side of the table. Kathy pulled the ropes so tight that Nancy’s legs were almost by her ears. Never had the three ladies seen a woman so shockingly exposed. Agnes was happy and nodded her approval to Maggie. She then whispered some instructions into Mags ear. Finally Dr. O’Brien went over to Nancy and whispered to her, “Nancy wake up”. The dark haired woman woke with a start and looked around her dazedly.
The Third Present
While the three mothers stood by puzzled and Nancy was collecting her wits, Maggie removed the wrapping from her present and opened the long rectangular box. Dr O’Brien cleared her throat to make obvious to the group of four mothers and two servants that a portentous statement was forth coming. “Ms Maggie Fletcher, I cannot say to you how proud I am of what you have accomplished. This marks the first meeting of the first Disciplinary Circle of the First Form. You are at the forefront of establishing a new form of education that will bring women finally into the 21st century. Behold the mark of my confidence and the emblem of your authority.” As Maggie lifted out of the long thin wooden box a long slender riding whip, Agnes continued. “This is a custom riding whip. Including the handle and wrist strap it is almost a meter long. It has a core of fiberglass over woven with the thinnest of leather braid and covered in black silk. Unlike the shorter riding crops which have a leather flap on the end, this riding whip has a silk tassel. Let all those who you supervise and guide recognize it for what it is. It is the finest creation of an arcane tradition.” This presentation drew ooohs and aaahs from the assembled ladies including the invariably silent maids. And the clenching of more than one pussy and bowel as the women imagined what it would feel like to have the glistening slim rod applied to their more tender parts. Agnes concluded, “Now Maggie, get on with it.”
Maggie explained the next phase of Nancy’s punishment. Mrs Wilson’s splayed legged position made it obvious what the target would be, her perineum and the inner aspects of her thighs. But Maggie made clear what she wanted done. Each of the three muses would deliver seven blows with the tawse: two the right thigh, two to the left thigh and then three to the center. The work order would be, Kathy first, then Mary and finally Anne. The last four lashes would be delivered by Maggie herself. It went without saying where those would go and with what implement they would be delivered.
By this point Nancy had recovered from her shock and looked around her. So many memories were coming back. Memories of the times when she had been in this situation before. Back when she was just a pubescent adolescent. Back when she was in Malta. Back just a few years ago just before Andy died. As the blows started to slowly rain down, she was not as much acutely aware of the pain. The pain would sharply and periodically sear through her consciousness but her mind was being overwhelmed by the memories.
Nancy dreamed of the first time Anthony tied her to the table in the secret play house and beat her pussy with his belt. The time he made her lie on her back and hold her legs up and apart while he squeezed her genitals with a surgical clamp. The time she was bound with her labia majora pierced and stretched open while he stubbed out smoldering cigarettes on her vaginal mucosa.
Nancy was brought back to reality when Kathy gave her three rapid fire blows to her labia with the tawse. The blows to that most sensitive spot were so hard that for a moment Nancy couldn’t even draw a breath let alone scream. Then there was a moment of rest as another woman came to the punishing position and Nancy went back to her reveries.
Nancy dreamed of the time Anthony bound her into a ‘hog tie’ and hoisted her up with a chain hoist. Nancy hung there, almost four feet off the ground with agony ripping through her twisted shoulders, hips, elbows, knees, wrists and ankles. She was suspended there with her head hanging down, her pubescent breast buds dangling, and her pubes obscenely exposed. And her sister Angela took a candle and played its flame up onto the nipples, labia and mons veneris. OOOH the agony of it.
As Mary struck Nancy’s mons veneris and labia with the tawse the dark haired beauty howled. Nancy screamed, “Don’t burn me. Please Angie don’t burn me. Oh please not the flame.” The three muses looked at each other. Perhaps Nancy had gone insane with the pain. Only Agnes O’Brien had a hunch of what was going on in Mrs Wilson’s head. Agnes looked at Anne Arundel and commanded “Proceed”.
Nancy dreamed of Andy. Everybody blamed her for his death. Nobody really knew what went on in their marriage. Think about a fifty year old successful businessman, recently widowed, childless, marrying a nineteen year old girl right out of a convent school. He accepted her Roman Catholicism. She accepted his sexual demands. She ripened into motherhood with large breasts, full hips and a developing sexual appetite. He aged into his late fifties with its diabetes and hypertension and hypercholesterolemia. And so the sex became kinkier and soon enough Nancy began to undergo the BDSM rituals that he demanded. The canings, the bondage and the pussy whippings were bad but Nancy could stand battered labia. Like that brown haired Arundel bitch who is beating her now. She is no big deal. Then came the maids, sent up from families that had served her family’s estate for centuries. Then there were Andy’s business associates who stopped by for weekend long business parties. Finally, Andy suffered that massive heart attack, just about the time he started eying the ripening charms of Laura, Nancy’s eldest daughter, thirteen at the time.
This time Nancy’s screams shook everybody up. Maggie jumped back at least three feet. Those four hits to Nancy’s pussy with her new whip were hard. But Maggie never anticipated such a violent reaction. But Dr O’Brien knew what to do. She went up and whispered in Mrs Wilson’s ear and the lady became quiet.
Fear and the Female Breast
Having regained her composure after being startled, Maggie bid the three muses to loosen Nancy’s ropes. Then she had them kneel in front of her in a row and clasp their hands behind their heads. What was coming was fairly obvious but all three of the ladies hoped that their hunches were wrong. Ms Fletcher then addressed her mommies. “What you have just seen is a pretty good pussy whipping. Twenty five lashes to a mature woman’s inner thighs and genitals. She has bruises and her labia are bleeding. But I’ll bet that none of you were really scared during Nancy’s punishment. Maybe a little bit aroused. But it didn’t scare the pee out of you. Now I am going to say some things to you that will probably bring some fear into you. This whip is a pretty scary weapon. When forcefully used it can cut flesh with every stroke. But after the things you have seen tonight, I suspect that any one of you would obey my command to bend over, hold your ankles and prepare for an arse whipping. But I am not asking you to bend over. You knell there and your breasts are exposed. And with you in that position and I standing here with this whip in my hand, I’ll bet you are growing fearful.”
“Why is it that women fear having their breasts beaten so much? We don’t particularly fear having our arses whupped. We dislike the pain but we don’t fear it. In fact some experts suggest that a major difference between men and women is that men have broad shoulders and women have broad fatty butts. We were made to have our backsides pounded. How about our pussies. They get pounded by men all the time from the time our cherry is popped until our last orgasm. And talk about pain. Nothing that I will do to your pussy will match the pain you endured in childbirth. No the breast is different. It is the most visible sign and symbol of our sexuality. We become women when we start bleeding but we are not recognized as women until our tits grow. Remember how inadequate you felt in early adolescence when you looked at the girls with big tits in the locker room. They took the longest time to change and they stuck their boobs out for all to see whereas you covered them up as quickly as possible. And once you had boobies what preoccupied you about them? The knowledge that some day they will sag. The reality that they will get flat and hang like dugs. Sagging and deflating, that’s what drives the brassiere business. What you fear the most is damage to your most public display of your sexuality.”
“Now you, kneel there, submissive to me. And I am going to beat your breasts. Not a terrible beating, just five lashes each. And if I am nice, I won’t hit too hard. If I like you I will leave marks but I will not tear the skin. If you are good I won’t cut your nipples and watch the blood run down your belly.”
Maggie stood in front of Kathy and commanded her to look the teacher in the eyes, “You sniveling blonde bitch, are you afraid.” Kathy gulped and had to admit that she was. Then Maggie began to hit her. First she struck a couple of times from the left, hitting the tops of Kathy’s breasts. Then she moved to the right and struck down from that side. Lastly, Maggie went back to her left and hit Kathy right across the nipples. True to her word red marks but no blood appeared. Maggie said to Kathy “See, my charge, I showed you mercy. I did not cut you. This time your breasts did not bleed.” Maggie lifted the front of her skirt and petticoat to reveal pantiless clean shaven crotch. “Now kiss my pubes.” Shaking, Kathy complied twisting and turning and placing a loud buss on the shaven mons. Maggie moved on down to Mary and repeated the mantra. Again five times she struck the red-headed woman’s breasts with the last blow landing squarely across the nipples. And Mary, grateful that her boobs were not torn, paid submission to the teacher by lifting her skirts and kissing her pubes.
Then, it was brown-haired Anne’s turn. She was shaking badly by the time that Maggie stood in front of her. Anne had her eyes tightly closed, dreading what was coming. The first time Maggie hit her breasts with the whip she yelped and grabbed her breasts with her hands, rocking back and forth. Anne cried and wailed, “Please don’t hurt my boobies. Please, please don’t beat my breasts.” Maggie’s left hand took Anne by the chin and raised her head up so that the teacher could look her in the eyes. “What do we have here, a bad girl? And what did I say about bad girls. You need to get ten lashes. And maybe I should do more than leave little red marks. Now listen girl. Put your hands back where they belong or I will have you strung up by your wrists and whip the skin off your titties.” Anne sobbed but complied. And Maggie gave her three solid blows from one side and then three solid blows from the other. The six strokes to the tops of Anne’s breasts almost immediately raised wheals and soon enough bluish purple bruise was spreading under the skin as tiny blood vessels were broken. Fortunately for Anne, Maggie had not struck hard enough to cut the skin. And the number of blows was few enough that lash did not fall upon lash, tearing into already swollen tissue. The last four blows Maggie aimed at the nipples. She took her time and precisely aimed each blow. Although not as forceful as the blows that came down from above on the tops of her titties, the nipple shots all landed on the same spots. The left nipple was badly bruised but the right one was cut. Soon enough, several drops of blood oozed out. Maggie took the tip of her whip and toyed with blood, smearing it over the areola. Then she bade Anne to suck the blood off the proffered whip tip. Once Anne had complied, Maggie made the weeping woman kiss her mons. Completely humiliated, the women were allowed to rise to their feet and drop their hands from in back of their heads. The ladies rubbed and comforted their sore breasts.
A Real Breast Beating
Everybody in the room that could count past ten, was at this point, cognizant that Nancy Wilson still had twenty five lashes coming to her. And after the sadistic introduction that Maggie gave the girls to torturing tits, all the women pretty well suspected what was next on the evening’s agenda. Nancy was highly likely to be in for a walloping tit whipping.
Coming back to consciousness and finding herself restrained only by her padded handcuffs, Mrs Wilson sat up, only to witness the final stages of Anne Arundel’s breast beating. As Nancy shook her head back and forth to clear the cobwebs, memories of her breast beatings in this very room came flooding in. Yes, there it still was. The pulley through which Andy used to thread the line that ran from her wrist restraints over to the cleat on the far wall where the line was fastened. Holding her up. Suspending her. Stretched out taught, breasts jutting out, utterly exposed. After Andy died she never gave the pulley and the cleat another thought. She never took them down. She thought those types of things were out of her life forever.
Nancy was not the only one in the room with an eye for detail. Agnes did not have all of her attention focused on the fun that Maggie was having with Anne. She noticed Nancy’s revival. Dr O’Brien followed Nancy’s eyes around the room. From Anne’s breasts being whipped to the bit of metal hanging from a ceiling joist above to the cleat on the fall wall and back to Anne’s breasts. When Agnes took another look at the flash of metal on the open ceiling of the laundry room she recognized it as a block, also known as a pulley. Things immediately clicked in Agnes’ head. There were some things she knew about Nancy’s married life but she was smart enough not to presume too much. And tied wrists, overhead pulleys and cleats could be connected by a line. Dr. O’Brien wondered if the Wilsons had ever played BDSM games. Maybe Nancy had been spanked since the days back in Malta. Agnes had never asked Nancy about domestic spanking.
And so soon enough, Mrs Wilson was strung up by her wrists. A rope was tied to her leather padded hand cuffs, up through the pulley and down to the cleat. She was not dangling with her feet unable to touch the floor. She was not even on tippy toes but she was certainly held taut with her large breasts jutting out. Nancy could swing a little from side to side but it was impossible for her breasts to escape from the blows that Maggie was about to rain upon them. Dr. O’Brien just hoped that Ms Fletcher could curb her excitement and not hurry the whipping along. Nice and slow would work the magic. Fortunately, Maggie was becoming sensitive to Agnes’ body language and there would be long intervals in between the lashes that would tear into Nancy’s boobs.
Mrs Wilson was in agony. Despite the leather coverings, the hand cuffs cut into Nancy’s wrists. Although she was not off the ground, she was definitely in suspension and it was only by getting up on her toes that she could take some of the strain off her wrists. Never could she take all of the cutting tension away. That meant that she could not concentrate on swiveling about so as to minimize the amount of time her breasts were attractive targets. And this bitch Fletcher was a patient bitch. Maggie was biding her time so as to strike when Nancy’s breasts were most fully exposed. That whip was like a snake. It did not need the lengthy windup that a truly vicious stroke of the cane required. A tawse or a strap moved slowly because of air resistance. That whip just struck. Oh God and did it sting and cut. Andy never did like the whip. He was British through and through. Once he got through the over the knee and slap the arse phase, it was always the tawse or the cane. Every once in a while, for variety, he would use a hairbrush on her behind. For the titties it was always a light cane. It would leave some ugly bruises but Andy never liked to hit her tits hard. This lady was different. Nancy could see that Maggie was fairly well endowed herself. And she suspected that the young woman had been on the receiving end of a breast beating or two. She took her time, aimed her blows well and hit hard. Twenty-five lashes was going to take a long time and do some nasty damage. Nancy tried hard to get into her head space as she had done during her pussy whipping. But the merciful oblivion wouldn’t come. Neither would the sexual arousal that often accompanied the BDSM that she and Andy engaged in. There was nothing but the damned pain. That and the horror of watching cuts being opened up in the skin on the tops of her breasts. Worst of all, Maggie had not yet even begun to whip Nancy’s nipples. Mrs Wilson was petrified at the prospect of having her nipples torn open.
Maggie was happy at the way that the whipping was going. She was finally truly in command and she was going to make this arrogant woman suffer. Concentrating on keeping her excitement down and keeping the pace of the whipping slow, Maggie carefully aimed each blow. She waited until Mrs Wilson stopped wiggling. As a result the last five inches of the nearly meter long whip almost always landed exactly where desired. Half way through the twenty-five lashes, there were half a dozen nasty cuts on the upper globes of each of Nancy’s breasts. The cuts were deep enough so that blood was not simply oozing but was actually welling up. Maggie stopped the action and searched out the vinegar brine. She sponged off the cuts in Nancy’s tits and applied the astringent with a moistened cloth. Mrs. Wilson howled in agony but the bleeding greatly diminished. Well, thought Maggie to herself, twelve lashes to go, time to start on the nipples. The young woman focused all of her attention on hitting one nipple perfectly. Then she waited until Mrs Wilson stopped howling and ceased to thrash. Then Maggie concentrated on hitting the other nipple perfectly. She was extremely proud of herself and smiled broadly. Occasionally she caught glimpses of the other women in the room. The three muses had their arms crossed over their chests horrified by the way in which Mrs Wilson’s titties were being torn to shreds. They were probably also imagining their boobs being ripped in the same fashion. The maid and the cook just stood there stoically. And Maggie Fletcher slowly and methodically worked her way through twelve lashes to Mrs. Wilson’s teats.
Agnes watched as the drama came to an end. Maggie had taken half an hour to administer twenty-five lashes to Nancy’s breasts and it was now approaching eleven o’clock. Although they were thoroughly lacerated, Maggie’s time and attention to staunching the bleeding meant that blood was not spattered all over the laundry room. Later Agnes would talk with Maggie about how well she did for it was truly a magnificent whipping. Certainly it was the equal of the best she had ever seen back in the convent. And those nuns had decades to hone their techniques. She watched as Maggie applied the vinegar brine to Mrs. Wilson’s breasts one last time. Maggie then French-kissed the suspension-bound woman while kneading her buttocks with both hands. Nancy struggled for a bit and then returned the kiss, grinding her pelvis into that of the young teacher. Ah well, thought Dr O’Brien, it is going to be quite a year for the girls of the First Form and their mommies. If even one of the other three teachers worked out as well as Maggie this would be the most exciting year of Agnes’ life.
Putting Everyone to Bed
Maggie indicated that Kathy should undo the line from the cleat on the wall. As Mrs Wilson was lowered, the tension in the room palpably lessened. Next, Agnes took a key on a chain from around her neck and handed it to Kathy who unfastened the cuffs from Nancy’s wrists. At first, Nancy’s legs were unable to support her and it was necessary for Mary and Anne to help her into one of the metal folding chairs in the room. Maggie told the four mothers that they could now put their robes back on. The three muses quickly retrieved them and covered their nakedness. They had to help Nancy up and assist her in getting into her robe. However, they could see that she was recovering minute by minute. The maid went and got a glass of neet brandy for Mrs Wilson. The lady downed the cup with amazing rapidity. The three muses looked to be none the worse for their chastisement. It was a safe assumption that by Monday they would all be hale and hearty, although Anne might well have visible marks for the better part of a week. They were almost ready to be dispatched upstairs to bed. Nancy had a longer way to go.
But before of these things happened Agnes had one more task to do. She went over and drew the three muses around her saying softly “Dreamtime Kathy. Dreamtime Mary. Dreamtime Anne. Tonight you are permitted to climax as often as you are aroused. You have until the sun rises. Awake and off you go.” The three mothers started giggling and sped out of the room and up the stairs. As they left the basement and entered the hallway who did they bump into but Drs Ritchie and Waters. The two men were casually dressed in jeans and buttoned-down oxford cloth blue shirts. They corralled the three giggling women and herded them up the stairs to the master bedroom suite dominated by the king sized canopied bed. In short order three satin robes were shed. The men had their clothes virtually ripped from them. The three women had been denied any form of orgasm for several weeks. They had been progressively aroused by the nakedness and beatings going on all evening long. Now finally their libidos had been released and they were going to make the most of it. Soon Steve and Dave were flat on their backs as Kathy and Mary sucked and wanked them to hardness before mounting them. Anne of the badly bruised breasts quickly searched the night stand adjacent to the bed, discovering Nancy’s extensive collection of sex toys. She turned on two vibrating dildos and inserted one into her pussy and one up her ass before she started to suck on Kathy’s nipples as the blond bounced up and down on David’s dick. It would be a long time until dawn.
Nancy’s Gets to Switch
Agnes took the cook and the maid over to where Nancy was sitting. She knew that the two young women had been programmed for orgasm denial in the same way that their mistress had been. In a low voice she released the three women from their climax prohibition until the rising of the sun.
Mrs Wilson hauled herself stiffly to her feet. She wrapped her robe about herself gingerly. Some of the cuts on her backside and her breasts were already seeping through the thin satin of the white dressing gown. Nancy walked over to Maggie and quietly asked a favor of her. Maggie nodded and handed over the whip. Agnes motioned to Maggie to gather her things and come with her. As they left the room the maid and the cook began to quickly remove their clothing. First dropping their crinoline petticoats and then removing their aprons and brief uniforms. Somehow neither Agnes nor Maggie were surprised to see that neither young woman was wearing panties. By the time the headmistress and the teacher exited the room, the cook had fastened the handcuffs to the wrists of the maid and was attaching the line to the cuffs. Mrs Wilson was already taking practice cuts with the whip. It would obviously be a long night down in the basement laundry room.
The Ride Back
Stunned by the events of the evening, Maggie was silent during the ride back to St. Margaret’s. Agnes slowly and quietly told Maggie what a great job she had down and how proud she was of her. She told Maggie that it was not her lot in life to have had children but she could not be prouder if Maggie was her own daughter.
Agnes told Maggie of her plans for the school. How the other First Formers would be molded just like this group. Next week the 2nd and 3rd Disciplinary Circles of Section A would have their first meetings. She, Agnes would handle the 3rd Circle and Maggie could handle the 2nd. Those meetings would probably be a little milder than the first meeting of the 1st Circle. The 1st Circle was special just like Section A was special. They were the Three Muses and the Queen of the Night. But one could never predict what would happen. The 1st Circle would meet on their own at Anne Arundel’s house. It would be a dull session. Most of the girls if not all of the girls would have no more than one demerit. It was possible that several would have none. And the next time they met, there would be no relief from climax prohibition for the Muses and the Queen. We will let the tension build until just before the start of school. Maybe we should let them stew until after the first week of classes.
And Maggie would have to help Agnes with the other First Form teachers, Kris, Betty and Monica. There were myriad administrative details to be attended to. There were always too many administrative details to attend to. Agnes thought that Kris would do fine and Betty would be OK but she was definitely worried about Monica. Monica might need a lot of help.
When they got to the Faculty dormitory wing and Maggie was about to go off to her room, Maggie took her hand and led her to the Headmistress’ digs. Agnes sat Maggie down and put a glass of Jameson in her hand polluted by only a single ice cube. And later that night she taught Maggie ways of making love that the young woman had never dreamed of. They were soft and tender ways of making love that men knew nothing about at all. There were things that fingers and tongues could do that peckers could never think of. Although both were exhausted it was only as the first light of the coming dawn brightened the Eastern sky that, twined in each others arms they fell asleep.
Managing the Disciplinary Database
The first thing that Agnes did when she got into her office on Saturday was to turn on her computer. She clicked on the ADA icon and entered her password. The first thing that popped up on the Automated Disciplinary Administration system was the most recent status report.
Status as of 17 July
First Form Section A Disciplinary Circle 1
Disciplinary Record
Age SmT HC MS Home DC School Detentions
MTD Cum MTD Cum MTD Cum MTD Cum
Arundel, Anne 33 En Br D 50 50
Arundel, Frances 13 En Br S 25p 25p
Horrigan, Kathy 28 En Bl S 30 30
Horrigan, Katie 13 En Bl S 15 15
O’Neil, Mary 31 En Rd S 40 40
O’Neil, Diane 13 En Rd S 20 20
Wilson, Nancy 36 M Bk W 100P 100P
Wilson, Laura 15 En Bk S
Wilson, Linda 13 M Bk S 50P 50P
SmT, SomatoType; Ec, Ectomorph; En, Endomorph; M, Mesomorph; O, Obese
HC, Hair Color; Bk, Black; Bl, Blonde; Bn, Brown; Rd, Red
MS, Marital Status; D, Divorced; S, Never legally married; W, Husband deceased.
Oh yes, Maggie was such a good girl. The first thing she had done when she got in this morning was to feed the Demerit Records that the mothers had filled out and turned in last night into the OCR scanner. ADA had done the rest. Agnes did spot checks of some of the individual and family files. Yes, the data had already been posted there. It was a very good weekend. It would be a very good year.
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