pressing pang in her chest.
Gazing at the bent bottom practically splitting the golden knickers as the girl kissed and licked the leather, she knew she wanted to see it whipped. She would have liked to cane that proud posterior herself-and it was the first time she had felt, or acknowledged the feeling, to herself.
“Don't be silly, Joyce, Stand up and answer my question. Well, then… what would you say?”
“I would say… I would, say, Ma'am,” stammered the still crying girl, “that if you ordered it, then it must be right, and I should hope and try to profit from it all I could.”
“A truly Prussian reply,” retorted the Headmistress with satisfaction. “I couldn't be more proud of you for that, Joyce, than if you were one of ours. Well done. You may have a Credit.” (Thus excusing her, Maria knew, of three cuts at the next beating.) “You may leave now. And if I were you, I should keep those bottoms out of trouble for a little while.”
When the girl had gone there was an excited tension in the air. The Frau Direktrice lit another small cigar.
“There's one erring child who won't steal cakes in a hurry, I think,” she said, drawing on the dark weed with satisfaction. “Amazing how the rod imposes its rule.”
“Do you remember that truant, Head, two years ago, whom you ordered ten days of Solitary and six of the best each morning and evening?”
“Heavens yes,” laughed another mistress jovially, “she didn't take her eyes off the ground for the rest of that term. The mere sight of a stick set her shaking like a jelly.”
“You could do anything you liked with her.”
“And doubtless you did, Luzie.”
Luzie Rombau giggled. “I must say I gave her one of the last of those beatings just as hard as I've ever hit. I have a soft spot at the very memory.” They laughed together as the mistress rubbed her center indicatively.
“Do you required my presence any further, Frau Direktrice?”
The Headmistress looked at the mouth-watering morsel of black silk and satin for a moment.
“Have you had it recently, Resi?”
“Unfortunately I have, Madam,” said the maid, roguishly enough, and looking at the ripe curve of her cheeky can Maria Daunitz again felt that abduction of her breath-yes, she would like to see this tender little Dienstmadchen well whipped too, no doubt about it. She would like to see her bent, and bared, and… and…
“Any reason why you shouldn't have it again?”
“None at all, Madam,” replied the maid promptly.
“Resi,” said the Headmistress, stirring her limbs and changing-somewhat-the conversation, “I need to give someone another salutory birching, in front of the whole school. You don't happen to have a candidate, do you?”
The maid's green eyes twinkled. “There have been some odd stains, yes in the sheets, Frau Direktrice, coming in from Dormitory 'D.' We are looking into it, Ma'am.”
“A vicious little onanist is just what I require,” concurred Frau Grumkow with a chuckle. “Fifty cuts in front of the school, after having masturbated publicly first. A week of solitary, with regular canings to cool her off.” The Head was working herself up, it was plain. “But come, Resi, let's show the new mistress the servant kiss. Nice and deep. The scum buss.” The little woman turned. “You know what that is, Daunitz?”
“Yes, Head.”
“What?”
Maria hesitated but fractionally. “Up the… arse.”
Frau Grumkow shook her braids reflectively. “Tongue up the anal canal, deep. Is there anyone here who feels she could come?”
“I could,” said several voices in unison.
“Frau Dick,” the Headmistress gravely selected, and the well-fleshed gym mistress duly arose.
“Thanks, Head. After seeing Joyce's bum I was frankly just about to burst.”
(And so was I, Maria realized hectically. So… am I!)
“Do you think you can do a 'dry' for Daunitz?”
“I'll try, Head.” She added, grinning- “All that brandy!”
Frau Dick had the wide face of her race, though hers was set under a mousy crop of thin soft hair cut short as a German schoolboy's. It set off in curious sensuality her look of a well-fed mare, her brows of a water-carrier, and generally wanton eyes. Above all, as she came forward now, did it contrast with the thick black furze that fanned out up her belly, above the well-seamed slug of her sex.
For the gym mistress had stripped with expert address and advanced nude but for her boots below the waist, thoughtfully licking the last crumbs of a Savoy cake off her fingers. She stood with feet apart, her back to the fire and facing the principal. The quiff of her bush-hair curled in two furry crimps at the very base of her body and when she curiously parted a little the strong spongy lips of her cunt a red bud, like a velvet cap-ribbon, stuck out, shiny in the light of the triple-branched sconces.
“Right up, Resi. Or it's a dozen on the legs.”
The neat maid knelt directly behind the woman. She hesitated a second, summoning a look of concentration to her foxy muzzle of a face, then drew apart the hanging bottom ovals with her fingers. Her tongue licked once at her lips, a cat's before cream, then she pressed her mouth into the divide behind.
Dick hissed as the tongue slid up her. Her cheeks flushed as she bent further forwards, widening with her fingers the silken purse of her pussy.
“Ach… like that… yes, Resi, yes…”
To Maria, watching bemused, the amazing was occurring-the clitoris twitched or kicked! Yes it stiffened in sudden erection, an hypertrophied angry-looking stub of gristle, standing out from the vulva like a thumb, wet and red. The mistress was stretching the quaking thing out further by distension of her lips and breathing pleasurably now, “Hah… komm… suss… come on you little bitch, shoot… she's doing it to you…”
“Heavens, it's a cock,” laughed Katte from her chair.
But the Head said sternly, “You'll eat shit if she doesn't come, Resi. I'll see that you get twenty at the triangle, too. Get it-in-deep!”
Verily, Frau Dick's crotch seemed to be steaming. The stiff wet tube, half as long as a finger, was sticking out horizontally, a furious thing-yes, surely about to burst.
“She's got it,” gasped Dick, sucking in her breath; and the morsel of femininity literally spasmed before them, sweating its dew in driblets to the carpet.
“Holy Mother!” panted the mistress, straightening and looking about her with an undefined, slightly muzzy expression, while the maid withdrew her face, and licked her scummy lips. Froth still seeped expansively from her slit. The Head was according this performance a critical eye, hand at her own crotch, when there came a rap at the door.
Ingeborg Untermacher came in and curtseyed. She was brilliant in the dazzling white of the Duty Mistress's skimpy tunic and she held the black Demerit Book in one hand. Her auburn hair cascaded down her back. Maria Daunitz found herself looking at her friend and mentor with curiously beating heart, as the young woman bent for the Directress to affix her signature to the day's rote of “Duty” offenses. The wrinkleless, clingy material, softly gathered at the skirt by the wide leather belt, proclaimed rather than hid Inge's solid body beneath. Her boots shone in the firelight, cutting into the creamy thighs.
“Only three?” Frau Grumkow was saying, looking at the little list of penitents with a frown; “I doubt if you'll even get warm.”
“I expect they will, Head,” Katte chuckled.
“If I have anything to do with it,” agreed the Duty Mistress of the day, grinning.
“Well, you have one nine; see if you can make her 'come again.'”
“Who's that, Head?”
“Steffi Nagel,” answered Jacqueline Bellais promptly. “My report in Hall.”
“Well, well,” sighed the Frau Direktrice. “A niner can always be a bit uncomfortable. Still, think of the good you are doing to her soul, Untermacher. Lay on-and don't forget what I told you after, will you?”
“I won't, Head.”
As Maria curtseyed and prepared to follow her friend on her punitive mission, the last in the day for the Duty
