Back to School 2
Wendy's Story continues:
The three prefects escorted me from the headmaster?s study and down the long corridor with its tiled floor and dark wood panelling, past the tiny cupboard where I had spent the night. I noticed that while their skirts were well above the knee, they were nothing like so revealingly short as mine. Also, unlike me, they were wearing bras. Evidently I had some special status here, apart from being the only non-prefect.
We went into a large high-ceilinged room. There were several tables with rows of girls, all identically dressed, having breakfast. I was led to a small table in the corner with one hard stool, on which I sat. It pressed painfully on my bottom, sore from my recent caning and the irritating cream that made the sting far worse. Also, one leg was shorter than the others, so the stool rocked a lot unless I was very careful.
"Why do I have to sit on my own?" I asked.
"You're not a prefect, little girl," sneered the tallest girl. "You?re not allowed to sit at a prefects' table. Now sit there till you're told you can go."
They left me and sat down at the far end of the room, but soon a very plump middle-aged woman wearing an apron waddled over carrying a tray with a plate, two large bottles and a glass. She put the tray down in front of me, and I saw that the plate had a few slices of dry bread and the bottles were full of water. I made no move, wondering if that was all I was going to get. "Eat your breakfast," she snapped at me.
"Don't I at least get any butter ..." I began, but my voice trailed away before her angry glare, rebuking me for having the impertinence to suggest such a thing. I picked up a slice and began nibbling at it. It was rather stale.
"Eat faster and have some drink," she said in an irritated tone. I did my best to force down the bread, and washed it down with plenty of water. The water had a slightly odd taste, but it was better than nothing. Eventually, I finished all the bread, and tried to stand up. It was really getting painful, sitting on that hard stool with my sore bottom.
'sit down, you naughty girl! You've had less than half your water," came the immediate rebuke. The woman insisted that I finish up both bottles to the last drop.
As soon as I had drunk all the water, she signalled and three girls came over, not the ones I had been with before. "Right, lesson time," said one, gripping my arm firmly. A second girl took my other arm and the third one followed behind us as we went off at a rapid pace. My shoes were quite uncomfortable, making walking difficult, and it was a big effort for me to keep up with them.
"Did they really make you drink all that water" asked the girl at the rear. "I saw two empty bottles on the table. Wonder if they had those strong diuretics in. "
"You talk far too much Fiona," snapped one of the other girls. Fiona fell silent, but what she had said worried me greatly. What were these nutcases trying to do to me."
Eventually, we reached a classroom. We went into and sat down. There were no other pupils, just a man who must have been a teacher standing in front of the blackboard. He was about 30, and wore a shabby blue suit.
'sit down, girls," he said pleasantly. "Ah, it's the new girl. Come and sit on my lap, Wendy." I didn't want to, but something told me that it would not be a good idea to disobey. He sat down in a leather-covered armchair next to the blackboard and I went over and sat sideways on his lap while the other girls sat at desks. He put his right arm round me and hugged me firmly to his chest, pinning my arms to my sides. With his left hand, he pushed up my skirt, already embarrassingly short, and rubbed my bottom. I just sat there and tried to keep calm, as he moved his hand round to my crotch and fondled it through my cotton knickers, pushing his hand between the tops of my bare thighs. After a few minutes, he lifted his hand and undid a button on my blouse. He slipped his hand inside my blouse, and played with my bra-less breast, pinching and twiddling my nipple. Tiring of that, he went back down to my bottom, this time putting his hand inside my knickers. All this time, he was hugging me very tightly.
Trying to take my mind off this pawing, I looked round the room as much as I could. The other girls were sitting there reading quietly, apparently oblivious to the teacher's antics. It seemed like a perfectly normal old-fashioned classroom, from the sash windows to the pile of chalk dust below the blackboard.
Inevitably, all the water I had been forced to drink at breakfast took its effect, and I was soon bursting to go to the toilet. "Please may I be excused, Sir," I faltered.
"Just wait a few minutes," he replied, pressing and massaging my belly in a way that made matters worse. He kept me there until I felt I could stand it no longer. Finally, he directed the other girls to take me to the toilet. Rising, I did up my blouse. As before, two girls took an arm each and Fiona walked behind. No chance of trying to escape. Unlike before, we went quite slowly, as my discomfort increased.
We went into the toilets. They were massively old-fashioned, with brick walls that were painted, not plastered. I was marched into one of the cubicles. The girls were still holding my arms. "Don"t I get any privacy " I began. Suddenly, the girls twisted my arms painfully behind my back, pulling my wrists up to the back of my neck and nearly making my elbows touch. Then they forced my head down into the bowl. "Ow! I screamed. Fiona pulled the chain, and I was nearly drowned as cold water cascaded around my head and splashed my face and into my nose. The sudden shock caused me to lose control of my bursting bladder, and I soaked my cotton knickers.
"Look, the little girl's wet herself!" laughed Fiona. The other girls pulled me upright, water streaming off my head.
"We"ll have to take you to see the Head," said one. "Take off her wet things, Fiona." Gingerly, Fiona unzipped my skirt and let it drop to my ankles. She removed my skirt, knickers, shoes and socks and left them in a pile on the floor. I was completely naked from my waist down.
"I can"t walk through the corridors like this," I said, aghast.
"You most certainly can and you most certainly will," came the emotionless reply as I was hustled to the headmaster's office, half naked, my hair still dripping. Somehow the girls lifted my blouse up so its bottom edge was well above my waist. We passed a few girls and one or two men, presumably teachers, in the corridor. They all turned to stare at me, some with amused expressions. I had never been so embarrassed, and it was a great relief to be back at that door. The girls knocked diffidently on it.
"Come in," said the deep voice that I had already learnt to dread.
"Please sir, Wendy's had an accident in the toilet," explained one girl. The headmaster glared at me.
'so, Wendy, you told me you were too old to be in school. It seems that you"re too young! The next time this happens, we"ll have to put you in the nursery where the children wear nappies and suck dummies."
"But Sir, it wasn"t my fault," I began.
"You"re telling me you"re too young to be responsible for going to the toilet" The head's sarcasm was palpable. "Now put on these clean clothes, and go straight back to your lesson. You"ll be charged extra for cleaning up your mess."
Again, I had to pay for their maltreatment of me! Once again, I squeezed into knickers that were too tight and donned a pleated skirt barely long enough to cover them. Why were all the clean clothes in his study, I wondered.
Back we trooped to the classroom. At least I didn"t have to sit on the teacher's lap and be groped again. Instead, he droned on for what seemed like hours about tectonic plates and how they caused earthquakes. Once I started to nod off, but he noticed at once and snapped at me. I managed to remain alert after that.
The lesson lasted all morning but at long last, lunch came. The girls escorted me back to the dining room and left me at the little table for one in the corner. This time, at least, I was given a substantial if distinctly unappetising meal and was not forced to drink endless amounts of water. Even so, it was not nice to have to eat on my own when the other girls were all sitting together,
As soon as I had finished my food, three more girls came over to my table. Why did they always have to go round in threes" "Hey, new girl, come with us. We"re going to show you the bike sheds," said one.
"My name's Wendy, what's yours," I asked politely as I stood up, hoping that I could get to be friendly with at least some of the other girls. But she ignored me and walked behind as, following the now familiar pattern, the other two grabbed an arm each and hustled me off. We reached a sturdy wooden door with a keypad next to it. Suddenly, all went dark as the girl behind me pulled a bag over my head and tightened the drawstrings. "What's going on" I yelled. I tried to remove the bag but the other girls held my arms firmly and stopped me.
"We don"t want any non-prefects seeing the door-opening code and getting out of the building on their own," one explained as I heard the door swing open. As I was apparently the only non-prefect in the whole school, that of course meant me. They bundled me outside and I heard the door slam closed behind us. I stumbled along, quite unable to see anything and having difficulty breathing through the thick bag, as I was escorted for quite some distance over uneven ground. If they were trying to show me the bike sheds, they would fail if I couldn"t see anything.
Eventually we stopped and they pulled the bag off my head. I gasped for air, and as I did so a lighted cigarette was thrust in my mouth and my jaw was pushed shut. As a result, I sucked in a cloud of tobacco fumes. Never having smoked in my life before, I immediately started coughing. Someone took the cigarette but, as soon as I stopped and gasped for air again, back it went into my mouth and I swallowed another lungful of that horrible smoke and started coughing again. Struggle as I might, the girls held my arms too firmly for me to get away from them or stop what they were doing to me.
"I say, the new girl's smoking," said one of the girls in a horrified tone. "We"ll have to report this to the Head at once!"
"But " this is ridiculous " you"re making me do it," I spluttered.
"Tell that to the Head," sneered another girl. "Who's he going to believe, three prefects or you" Say anything and you"ll just be punished double for lying and insulting prefects." And indeed I remembered what the Head had said " could it really be only this morning" It seemed like half a lifetime away " "if you come and tell me something that contradicts what a prefect tells me, you know who I'll believe."
They put the bag over my head again and marched me back into the school. Once inside, with the door safely closed to stop me escaping, they took the bag off. Soon I was standing in the headmaster's all-too-familiar study.
"Please Sir, we were walking round the grounds and we saw Wendy smoking behind the bike sheds," explained one girl.
"Really Wendy, you should be ashamed of yourself. Only your first day here and two serious incidents already," thundered the headmaster. I just looked downcast and kept quiet, not challenging the misleading half-truth, knowing that whatever I said would only make matter worse for me.
"Are you trying to get yourself expelled" Because you won"t be, you know. But I am going to cane you," he continued.
The three girls, as if responding to a signal, grabbed me and bent me over a chair. Once again, the headmaster flipped up my little skirt and pulled my knickers down to my knees. Once again, the cane went swish and cracked onto my bare bottom. A strip of fire seemed to sear across my naked behind. Remembering his injunction that if I didn't accept a stroke in silence it didn't count, I just bit my lip.
Five times more, I heard that swish and felt that agonising sting. Then again I was rubbed with the cream that made matter worse. This time, the girl with the cream really seemed to enjoy her work, spending quite some time rubbing and caressing every part of my bottom.
At last she finished, and I could stand up and pull up my knickers.
"Wendy has PE now girls, take her down to the gym," said the headmaster.
"Yes, Sir," they said, and led me off to my next lesson.