A Question of Proof

A period story set in a girls’ boarding school.

By Jane Fairweather

“Please Miss Robson, I have forgotten my swimming things. Can I just watch the others?”

“Eleanor Carter,” said Miss Robson from the melancholy heights of her thirtieth birthday. “This is the third time in three weeks. I have been patient with you up to now because you are a Sixth Former, and I do not like to discipline Sixth Formers. I was prepared to believe it was the forgetfulness of your butterfly mind the first week. The second time I raised my eyebrows, but decided I would put it down, yet again, to the mechanics of your butterfly mind and give you the benefit 0f the doubt.”

She paused, noting the sudden unease on the girl’s soft cream face. Eleanor could not be too enthusiastic about fresh air, any more than she was overwhelmed by the thought of learning to swim. She noticed too that several other girls were watching with interest; they must be wondering if they too could get away with forgetting their swimming costumes on purpose. If so, this was the point at which to draw a very firm line.

She glanced across to Lizzie Andrews and Veronica Smith, who were Eleanor’s mates, but also keen swimmers; they were watching the situation with mild amusement. Miss Robson reflected, not for the first time, that Veronica Smith was a very fine piece of female flesh with her nicely proportioned breasts and buttocks and lovely long firm legs, but if only she was not so naughty and rebellious! It made rather a contrast to her friend Eleanor Carter, who was close to fat and when being naughty, as she was today, only half doing it consciously. It crossed her mind that this might well be Veronica’s idea, and if so it was doubly desirable that Eleanor should be reined in, hard on Eleanor though it probably was.

She said very firmly: “I am just not prepared to put up with this any longer, Eleanor Carter. I am quite sure you are doing this deliberately and you deserve to be punished. You will do this lesson in your knickers and bra.”

“Miss, you cannot mean that! I can’t walk around in wet underclothes!” Eleanor protested, bursting into tears.

“You should dry out reasonably quickly if you borrow a towel afterwards and give yourself a good rub.” Miss Robson responded, well aware she was sounding very harsh and not actually that pleased with herself for sounding so sarcastic, but feeling this was definitely an argument she needed to win.

“But Miss, it really is not fair! She hates swimming!” The luscious Miss Veronica Smith was protesting, pouting ferociously through her mass of long black hair, which she was in the process of putting up so she could get her swimming cap on.

“Veronica Smith, what I have just said is not open to argument.”

“But Miss, it is so unfair!”

“Very well, Miss Smith, if that is your attitude you can write me five hundred lines: ‘I must not be insolent when I disagree with my teachers.’ Bring them to the staffroom before Assembly tomorrow morning.”

“But Miss, this is all so jolly unfair! You are a terrible teacher, Miss!” Lizzy Andrews protested, suddenly joining in the argument, the black eyes above her petite, almost boyish, body positively spitting fire.

“Elizabeth Andrews, unless you apologise this instant you can go and see Miss Morgan as soon as we get back to the school.”

The thought of a visit to the Headmistress, and quite possibly a slippering, did indeed produce an apology, but a rather half-hearted one. Miss Robson felt fully justified in giving Lizzy five hundred lines as well.

It must be said in fairness to Miss Robson that when she finally saw Eleanor dog-paddling round the pool in her floppy black knickers and ill-fitting black bra without a swimming cap and with the folds of flesh on her stomach flopping about, she felt a little sorry. But what alternative was there? If she did not rein Eleanor in, others would follow suit. She was quite relieved after the lesson when Anthea Burnell, a rather kind gentle girl, said that she had a second pair of knickers with her and let Eleanor have them, though they were not exactly a good fit, and Eleanor had the sense to leave her wet bra off when she got dressed, her slightly repentant teacher noticed.

*         *          *

Lily Robson always lingered in the Staff sitting room in the evening as late as she could. Not that she had any real friends among the rather stiff and elderly staff, none indeed that she felt like telling the fact it was her birthday, let alone her thirtieth birthday. Perhaps she would acquire one or two acquaintances with time, she had thought when she first came to this boarding school a little over a year ago, partly because of the higher pay, partly because of the difficult ending of her relationship with Mabel. Still, you could read a book or a paper and smoke and there was always a certain amount of chatter, which you could join in with. She only wished there was somebody, almost anybody, to have sex with.

At least, with the blazing fire in the large old fashioned marble fireplace, it was not cold. In the autumn and winter, her little bedroom was always freezing, even with the gas fire on, for the wind howled through the cracks in the window frame and seemed to come through the wall as if the bricks were not there.

Not for the first time she joined in a vague general discussion about why the school was so badly built. As usual, it was concluded that Avison Hall had been jerry built by the Victorian gentleman who had raised the ugly pile to save money.

This time, however, there was a variation. The very pretty Miss Warburton, who Lily guessed to be in her mid-twenties and had just taken over the Music at the school only ten days before due to Miss Anthony’s stroke, was intrigued that the Hall was called ‘Avison’. It seemed that at College Miss Warburton been taught by someone with a very unfashionable interest in Eighteenth century English music.

It was a very unartistic school and everyone looked bored and the subject was rapidly changed. However, to Lily Robson whose parents were both musicians and had almost been one herself, it was manna from heaven and she rapidly engaged Elsie Warburton in conversation, discovering what she could about this little known composer and partly, if she was honest, fishing just a little; she was struck by Miss Warburton’s neatly arranged auburn hair and stylish glasses. Not she suspected that Miss Warburton was likely to be interested in things like that.

But quite suddenly Miss Warburton said rather archly: “I hear you are the one who gets to do the whacking for Miss Morgan.”

Lily, who had been quite happily chattering about music, was caught decidedly off guard. Was Miss Warburton doing a bit of fishing of her own? Or was it was just morbid curiosity?

“Oh, not very often and only when we really have to. Usually lines and a telling off are all that is needed, which Miss Morgan is very good at.” Said Lily feeling thoroughly embarrassed but also intrigued.

“Oh, so you have caned girls, have you, Miss Robson? That must be interesting. What’s it like?”

“Actually we only slipper them, Miss Warburton. Some of them get quite worked up enough with that, especially when they get it bare.” Lily replied, immediately regretting her last statement.

She asked herself, not for the first time, if she had been too reasonable with the three Sixth Formers at the Swimming Baths earlier that day. A request to Miss Morgan to slipper the lot of them would almost certainly have been treated favourably. As it was, Veronica and Lizzie had seemed remarkably unsubdued and Eleanor had exuded a spiteful resentment, none of which boded well for her future lessons with them.

“So you’ve really smacked girls’ bare bottoms with a slipper, Miss Robson? That must be interesting; they did not do things like that at my school.”

Lily took evasive action, talking determinedly about her father who played the trumpet in the Philharmonia and composed in his spare time. He had even had a symphony performed. And her mother, who played the piano for various singers. And then her own regret that she had not been good enough to think of a musical career. Before the evening was over, the two girls were well on the way to being firm friends and dropping the formal Miss and calling one another Elsie and Lily.

Reluctantly, about ten-thirty, the two young mistresses trotted upstairs into the Arctic regions of the upper floors of Avison Hall.

“We are only two doors apart!” Elsie Warburton observed, pausing in the corridor. “I had not noticed that before. If it gets really cold we could always share a bed and cuddle. I doubt if anyone would notice, especially as the room between us has no one in it.”

“It would be one way of keeping warm, certainly!” Lily replied giggling, though she was not entirely sure about it and she was suddenly feeling glad that she would shortly be alone in her own little room. There was something about Elsie Warburton that she found simultaneously very attractive and rather disturbing.

She was never sure about this attraction she had to her own sex. It had got her into several awkward tangles in the last few years and she was still very sore from Mabel’s dropping her so abruptly, which was one of several reasons that she had changed jobs, though now she rather wished she had not. Still, she was not that averse to casual sex, of which she had quite shamelessly done quite a lot, usually though by no means always with girls. But quite possibly Miss Warburton meant no more than it would be warmer with two girls in the bed rather than one; it was quite common for girls to share a bed and gossip and Miss Warburton might well not share her inclinations.

“Well the offer is there. If you wake with icicles in your hair, just knock on my door.”

“Night!” Said Lily firmly, but adding: “We must continue our chat tomorrow.”

“Yes, we must!” Elsie said, unlocking the door of her room as she said it.

Lily walked the few steps down the corridor to her own room and opened the door, which she had not bothered to lock. She drew the curtains, put on the gas fire, although it smelt, and started to boil some water for the hot water bottle on her little gas ring.

Shivering, despite the gas fire, she changed into her thick woollen pyjamas, leaving her vest and bra on underneath the jacket. The water, of course, was terribly slow to boil and she did not feel like getting in to the icy bed without the hot water bottle, so she paced about the room crossing her arms and shivering.

Eventually the water was something like boiling and she fiddled with the stone hot water bottle, then clutched its warmth briefly before switching off the gas fire and heading towards her bed. But when she pulled back the bedclothes to insert the hot water bottle before clambering in herself, she had a most unpleasant shock. Someone had tipped quite a lot of water between her sheets and finished off their handiwork with a lot of strawberry jam, and there was a piece of paper torn from an exercise book with a large black spot and the words: ‘WE ARE TIPPING YOU THE BLACK SPOT’.

Lily’s immediate reaction was that it was impossible to sleep in this bed and she would have to take up Elsie’s offer to share hers, even though she barely knew her and she realized her attraction to the Music Mistress might lead to all sorts of complications, which she was not sure she was ready for.

Her second reaction was that the culprits were almost certainly Veronica Smith and Eleanor Carter and quite possibly, though less certainly, Lizzie Andrews. Oh, why had she been so hard on Eleanor? She had known she was not being particularly sensible when she had done it.

Anyway the sure fact was that she was going to have to punish several bare bottoms in the morning, assuming Miss Morgan did not take a different view, which was however most unlikely; and half of her took a real pleasure at the thought of a very well deserved and very personal vengeance, while the other half was rather shocked at what had happened and kept cursing herself for letting it come to this.

Her third thought was that Miss Morgan always went to sleep at ten and would not welcome being woken for anything less than a fire. So, she ought to ask Elsie to witness it all, just in case something happened to disturb the scene of the crime. Wasn’t that what the Police called it?.

*         *          * 

“Are you awake, Lily?”

“Just about!”

Lily realized that she was cuddled very comfortably up against her bedmate and feeling much warmer than normal at this hour of the morning, but Elsie had an arm round her, which she was not quite expecting and was not quite sure about. Not that anything had happened the night before except for some very circular chatter about the crime and the politics of the school, and then deep and blissful sleep.

Possibly thinking the same, Elsie withdrew the arm and offered tea. Lily did not stop her; it was nice to have someone else to get out into the freezing room and fiddle with the gas fire and put the small kettle on the smelly gas ring.

“This could be tricky.” Elsie announced as they sipped their tea side by side in bed. “I was thinking about it while I was waiting for you to wake up. There is no proof who did it, as far as I know.”

“There are three very obvious candidates!” Lily retorted. “I said that to you last night.”

“But you have no proof that all or any of them were involved. Whoever it is probably won’t do it again anyway. It might be quite a good idea just to let it go.”

“I most certainly am not going to ignore such a blatant challenge to my authority. Anyway, all three of them should have had the slipper yesterday; it won’t do any great harm if one of them gets it who wasn’t involved in this apple pie bed lark, because it will make up for not getting it yesterday.” Lily snapped, knowing as she said it that she was not being quite logical.

“I still think it would be wisest to let it go.”

“Are you saying you won’t go with me to Miss Morgan? Thanks a lot!”

“No, I will be very happy to go to Miss Morgan with you. I just wonder what will happen when we get there.”

*         *          *

“Miss Robson, you are surely not suggesting we should severely punish three Sixth Formers on almost no evidence!” The silver-haired head of Miss Morgan was saying from behind her desk. “And quite frankly, Miss Robson, this does seem to have happened partly because of a severe error of judgement on your part, not that it excuses whoever did this.”

Lily stuttered that of course that was not what she meant, though in fact it had been, but surely if they dug deep enough they would find the culprit.

“Well I can at least interview the three girls; Eleanor Carter, at least, might crack. Go and get on with your lessons and come and see me at the beginning of lunchtime. Hopefully we will get to the truth.”

“Shall I come as well?” Elsie asked uncertainly.

“Yes, you may as well, Miss Warburton.”

They were abruptly dismissed.

“Will you need help if you have to slipper them?” Elsie asked unexpectedly as they trotted down the corridor.

“I usually do it by myself. Miss Morgan gets upset about watching, though I do it in her study. Perhaps it would do no harm to have someone else there with three big girls to deal with. I suppose you are offering, are you?”

“Yes!” Said Elsie Warburton very definitely.

*         *          *

“I think it is Eleanor Carter, reasonably definitely.” Said Miss Morgan at five past twelve in her study.

“Think?” Said Elsie Warburton, echoing Lily’s unspoken thought that this was a rather uncertain way of putting it.

“Yes, Miss Warburton, think, though she has not confessed and I would be much happier if she did. There is an empty jar of strawberry jam among her possessions and, even more curious, a copy of Mr Ransome’s excellent ‘Swallows and Amazons’. 

“If you have not read it you should; it’s almost as entertaining reading for an adult as for a child. Anyway, there is a passage there about children tipping the black spot to an annoying Uncle and it was marked with a piece of paper. Fairly conclusive, I think, but all I have had out of her is tears; she just won’t talk sensibly about it.

“I had my secretary escort her back to her room to give her a chance to consider her options. If she does not confess I am going to ask you to give her a very sound dozen with the slipper; if she does finally admit it she can get off with six. Bare of course, either way with something as serious as this.

“Anyway, come back at quarter to one, would you? It will give her a chance to think and perhaps she will be more reasonable by then. I will have her back in here just a few minutes before you arrive, just to see if I can make her change her mind.”

*         *          *

“The trouble is,” Elsie said to Lily as they approached the Headmistress’s door for the third time that day. “The trouble is, I am not quite convinced it is Eleanor, or only Eleanor. The other two could be better liars and could have borrowed her strawberry jam and even her Arthur Ransome book. Not that I know any of the three, being so new here.”

“Well Eleanor has the most obvious motive and the evidence is reasonably strong,” Lily replied edgily. “But, like Miss Morgan, I would be much happier if she confessed. I don’t think it is likely she is innocent, but it is just that uncomfortable bit possible. I don’t think I am going to whack her quite as hard as I would do if I was convinced she absolutely definitely had done it. In some ways, I think I would prefer not to whack her at all unless we have definite proof, but I don’t think Miss Morgan would agree to that, having got this far with it.”

They approached the Headmistress’s door and Lily knocked and opened the door since they were expected anyway, though she wondered as soon as she had done it whether she should not have waited for the headmistress to open the door.

The scene inside was strange. A slightly worried looking Miss Morgan was sat behind her desk glancing at some papers rather half-heartedly. Eleanor Carter was stood in a corner with her hands on her head and wearing only her brown vest, her black school knickers and her black stockings, whose tops were hidden under the knickers, which reached a fair way down her thighs and right up to her waist.

Lily concluded that Miss Morgan was trying to frighten Eleanor into confession. Normally the undressing would have been part of the punishment and she would have been responsible for it.

Miss Morgan turned her head towards them and said: “I was hoping she would be persuaded to give in and confess, but she is adamant she won’t.”

“I did not do it! I really didn’t! Please believe me!” Came the oddly defiant voice of Eleanor from the corner.

Lily found it an odd contrast to the querulous Eleanor of yesterday and indeed most of her experience of the girl.

“Eleanor,” Miss Morgan stated very firmly. “This is absolutely your last chance to avoid the severer punishment. Either confess now, or I will go out of the room and leave you to Miss Robson to administer a punishment you will remember for some time and which no doubt she will take a certain pleasure in; I know I would if I was in her place.”

“I won’t do it,” said Eleanor. “I won’t lie and say I did it when I didn’t.”

“Very well, Eleanor, on your own head be it! She is all yours, Miss Robson. And give her two extra for making such a fuss would you, which by my arithmetic should make fourteen in all.”

Miss Morgan strode out of the door looking genuinely angry.

Lily walked over to the Headmistress’s desk, opened the cupboard in one side of it, that only she and the headmistress were allowed to open, and extracted the large, slightly off colour, tennis shoe without laces that was the school’s instrument of punishment. She noticed, not for the first time, that it smelt abominably. Out of the corner of her eye she realized that Elsie was watching intently.

She placed a wooden chair in front of the desk and moved the things on the desk that were immediately in front of the chair. Then she walked briskly over to Eleanor and with a minimum of fuss took her arm and walked her over to the place of her punishment.

“Take your knickers off, then kneel on the chair and put your elbows on the desk.” Lily said, wondering what they would do if this big girl started to make a fuss; would Elsie be strong enough to hold her? She had her doubts.

To her considerable relief, Eleanor seemed to shrug, then unbuttoned her black knickers at the side and lowered them to the ground, before kneeling on the desk and putting her fore arms on the desk. Lily paused and noted the two large white globes of flesh.

She positioned herself very carefully, tapped the girl’s recalcitrant bottom once, drawing a nervous whimper, then thumped the slipper into the lower buttocks, producing a loud yelp and the noise of tears. The mark was extremely red, she noticed with professional pride.

Then another tap on the white cheeks of the girl’s bottom, then another whimper, then another thump of the slipper on virtually the same already very red area.

The victim wriggled wildly, then said: “Streuth, that really hurt! Please!” With considerable feeling.

Lily decided with a certain satisfaction that the punishment was getting through to the desperately weeping Eleanor rather sooner than with some girls she had dealt with.

She paused to let the lesson sink in, tapped the bottom yet again and carefully took aim for a third time, but then suddenly the door shot open. It was Miss Morgan followed by an unnaturally pale Anthea Burnell. What on earth! Anthea had lent Eleanor her spare knickers, but what earthly connection did she have with the apple pie bed? Anthea was normally very well behaved.

“Stop, stop, stop!” Miss Morgan was screeching with a hysteria that was quite unlike her, “Miss Burnell here has just had the courage to admit she was responsible for this outrage. Eleanor Carter, you can stand up and put your knickers back on.”

A sobbing Eleanor did as she was told. Lily Robson felt cheated; there was something very personal between her and Eleanor Carter and she would really have liked to have finished the full punishment before Miss Morgan’s arrival had stopped it.

Then Miss Morgan was fussing and telling Eleanor to put all her clothes back on, which she did rather slowly, to Lily’s mind.

She was just wondering how long it would be before Anthea, who she had always rather liked, was on the chair with her much smaller bottom sticking out, and she realized with quiet pleasure that Miss Morgan was giving the dreadful Eleanor quite a telling off.

“Eleanor Carter I suppose in a sense you are guilty of nothing more than showing Anthea Burnell that passage in Swallows and Amazons about the black spot and expressing the wish that something similar would happen to Miss Robson. At least so Anthea tells me and I see no reason to disbelieve her. But I cannot help thinking that you undoubtedly put the idea in Miss Burnell’s head, possibly quite deliberately, and who knows, perhaps you lent her the strawberry jam, though Miss Burnell firmly denies it. How many has she had, Miss Robson?”

Lily found herself muttering that she had only administered two whacks and feeling resentful that she was not going to be allowed to carry out the remaining dozen. Eleanor Carter might be more or less innocent, but there was something she just did not like about the girl.

“Well I cannot help feeling those two whacks were quite appropriate.” Said Miss Morgan with a judicial air. “Even if I would not normally have sentenced you to them. I think you have a lot to answer for, Miss Carter, and I shall be watching your conduct in future. You may go.”

A more than slightly bewildered Eleanor Carter crept out of the door, touching her bottom through her skirts, but giving Anthea an adoring look, which Lily noticed was being returned. If nothing else was happening, Eleanor was almost certainly changing best friends as a result of this bizarre episode. Lily realized that Elsie had noticed the same thing and was giving her a broad wink while grinning rather.

“Well, Miss Burnell, it is very brave of you and very honest to save your friend’s behind at some cost to your own, but equally we cannot have this sort of thing going on. Teachers have to be protected from their pupils.” Miss Morgan observed, ignoring the sardonic glances between the two mistresses. “If there is any more serious misbehaviour from you then I am afraid you will be immediately expelled, good though your record has been till this point in your career at this school.”

“Yes, Miss Morgan, I do understand.” The girl said, looking slightly at her toes.

“Right, Miss Burnell, I think you deserve a jolly good hiding, don’t you?”

“I was only trying to get Miss Robson back because she was so really horrid to Eleanor.” The girl said.

Lily Robson, watching, was quite unsure whether this amounted to a bad final excuse under pressure or extreme insolence, and was very glad she did not have to make the decision.

Miss Morgan, however, clearly had no doubts and suddenly looked much angrier than she had been and furiously announced: “If that is your attitude, that you have a right to ‘get back teachers’ you can have a full dozen bare. I was going let you off with six and I was thinking of leaving your knickers on. I will leave you to get on with it, Miss Robson.”

The Headmistress turned angrily on her heel and swept out of the door.

“Right, we had better get it over with, Anthea. Take your skirt and tie and blouse off.”

There was a tense silence as Anthea undressed, putting her clothes down on one of the chairs and whimpering audibly. Lily felt oddly as if she should not really be here. She would have punished Eleanor, Veronica or Lizzie with the greatest of pleasure, but Anthea’s only crime was to have played the honourable school girl. No doubt there had been a touch of play acting and now she was coming up against the reality of what she had done and was very scared. Still, Lily thought, it had to be done for the sake not only of herself but of all the mistresses.

Anthea was now reduced to a rather attractive green slip and the inevitable black stockings, vest and knickers and bra that all the senior girls wore.

“You can take your knickers off now, if you want.” Lily said, not unkindly, thinking to spare the girl the indignity of taking them off in full view.

Anthea struggled with her knickers under her slip and added them to the heap on the chair.

“Now, your slip!”

The girl obeyed, though tears were flowing down her cheeks already.

“Kneel on the chair and put your forearms on the desk.”

Anthea obeyed, looking dazed. Lily looked at the small firm bottom with almost no space between the buttocks and reflected the slipper was going to cover most of the bottom with each whack.

“Please, please, not too hard, Miss Robson, please!”

Lily was well used to such pleading and took no notice. The slipper thumped remorselessly into that small bottom six times, while the victim wriggled and wailed and the flesh grew redder and redder.

Then Anthea’s hands shot over her inflamed flesh and she begged piteously for it to stop. “I just can’t take anymore, Miss Robson, I can’t, I really can’t, it really hurts.”

“Well if you had not said such a stupid thing to the Headmistress, we would be just finishing, wouldn’t we?” Lily growled. “Hold her hands, would you, Miss Warburton.”

Elsie Warburton strode round the other side of the desk and after a slight struggle got hold of Anthea’s hands and pulled her back over the desk with her face almost touching it.

Lily felt much angrier at this point than she had previously and she really let Anthea have it with the last half dozen. The girl wailed and kicked and struggled and finally started to shriek.

Elsie let the victim go and she frantically clenched her buttocks, wailing she was on fire. Lily quietly put the slipper away and after a couple of minutes told the victim to get dressed and make herself decent.

Anthea staggered about for a second or two when she stood up, as if she really did not know where she was. Then she staggered over to the chair that had her clothes on and slowly put them back on.

“You can go!” Lily said very formally as she always did on these occasions.

*         *          *

“We seem to be making a habit of this!” Elsie remarked as the two girls undressed side by side in front of the gas fire in her room.

“Well you heard Miss Morgan: ‘The mattress is ruined and we have no spare one. Do you think you girls would mind sharing again? I know it is a bore.’” Lily said with a giggle.

“And you don’t mind really, do you?”

“No, not at all. I thought I was going to last night, but in the end I rather enjoyed it.”

“I like your slip.” Elsie remarked.

“Present from my parents for my birthday. I have reached the dreaded age of thirty, you know.”

“Shows your parents have taste anyway. Incidentally, Miss Morgan mentioned it and I slipped out and got you a card this afternoon. It is not much, but I hope you like it.”

“That is really sweet of you! And Miss Morgan!” Lily said and gave her new friend a gentle peck on her cheek, thinking as she did it that she liked the taste of Elsie; it was definitely different.

“Miss Morgan thought you have been looking a bit lonely and put it down to nobody knowing about your birthday.”

“That was really very sweet of both of you.” Lily said very warmly.

They arranged themselves in bed.

“I can see why Miss Morgan does not like watching a punishment.” Elsie observed. “It was a bit gross. Poor Anthea! Her bottom got so red and she wriggled so much. And when I had to hold her hands you could feel her shaking. None of it was very nice.”

“On the other hand it, was very well deserved, and I quite enjoy carrying out a well-deserved punishment, though it was a bit hard on Anthea because she has such a small bottom. But then she’d been pretty hard on me.”

“You are such a sadist, Lily Robson. I bet you’d enjoy cutting off someone’s head.”

“Not on your life; there would be much too much blood for me.”

“Well, hanging then. I can just see you slipping the rope round the victim’s throat.”

“Oh, you are revolting!” Lily said, aiming a playful slap at her bedmate’s behind, who responded in kind.

Then quite suddenly they started playing at spanking each other. Then almost without it being intended, the two of them started to embrace and kiss passionately and then to put their hands in interesting places. Lily found herself having a long wild climax. Elsie was slower to come, but Lily skilfully got her there.

“I don’t know if that was just sex, or love.” Elsie observed with surprising honesty as they lay quietly afterwards. “But that was pretty good. Have you been fancying me? I have you, every day from the day I came to this school.”

“I hadn’t really thought about it till yesterday, but yes, I like you and that was gorgeous. We will have to see whether it was just a good practice, or something more. But I refuse to rush. I’ve done it before and got into some terrible tangles.”

“Yes, we will take our time and see. I agree with that. I’ve had some messes in my life as well. Still at least it keeps the bed warm.”

Then Elsie said: “You know, I am not convinced Anthea did it.”

“Why ever not?”

“I bet all the girls knew Eleanor had done it. She is the sort of girl who cannot keep her mouth shut. And it was blatantly obvious Anthea has an almighty crush on her. Anyway, I bet she took Eleanor’s punishment for her to get her attention. And judging by the look Eleanor gave Anthea when Eleanor departed, she succeeded.”

“Well, it is a theory! Anyway, at least somebody got punished severely for the crime. That is probably all that really matters. Anyway, my dear, are we going to make this arrangement more or less permanent?”

“Perhaps a little cynical permanence about our sleeping arrangements would do no harm. And anyway, my dear, it is so much warmer.”

The End

© Jane Fairweather 2016

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