What It's Like

Story from old Swish.

What It's Like

Jane was nervous and shifted her long legs about uncomfortably, perched as she was on the side of a single bed in her dorm while Nicky fiddled with her hair in front of a small dressing table mirror, her black miniskirt lying slung on her own bed which ran parallel to Jane's.

"Do they.... do they always cane girls in the evening here?" Jane asked. It was only her third day at St Catherine's and so far she had only been spanked once, and that by the gym mistress who – shamefully as far as Jane was concerned – had attended to her, knicks down, over a vaulting horse while the other girls watched with a mixture of excitement and awe as her bottom had reddened to the fierce smacks.

"Yes", Nicky said and leaned forward to see if her eyelash-black had 'caught'. It had, and they looked all right, she thought. Why she had to have a new girl like Jane in with her, she didn't know. It was part of the new system, or that at least was the whisper. Nicky had preferred being in with Carole who had, like herself, almost completed her month's term. At least they were both a bit more experienced and could talk about it. Jane obviously didn't know much yet, and her next question showed it.

"Well, why? Why in the evenings?" Jane asked. – "Because you have to get used to being seen to just before bed", Nicky wanted to say bluntly, but instead she just shrugged and said, "It's the custom, I suppose. It's worse being caned on an empty tummy, I can tell you. At least when I've got a good supper down me and a couple of glasses of wine, well.... You must have known you were going to be caned here, Jane, or at least you knew it was strict, didn't you?" she asked almost accusingly.

"Not as bad as being caned – I didn't expect that", Jane said moodily, "I'm sure I won't be able to stand it; I don't know how you can".

More decisively then Nicky turned away from inspecting herself and swung herself across so that she sat facing Jane between the two beds with their knees touching. – "Jane, can I give you a bit of advice? May I? You have to learn to go into the cane. They call it.... Well, they call it "offering" here. You'll not only have to learn to take it, but you'll learn postures, too. Have you... I mean, d'you mind if I ask you – have you been spanked, before you came?"

Jane blushed and swung her legs up, lying on her back along her bed with one arm over her eyes as if to protect them from the light. She could feel Nicky watching her, waiting for her reply. – "A bit", she said. It was no use saying she hadn't, and anyway it wouldn't be true. With a start the felt Nicky glide down beside her as if comfortingly. – "And it wasn't TOO bad? I mean, not absolutely awful, Jane. Did you get a cuddle afterwards?"

Jane swallowed and nodded. Something inside her told her she was 'awkward' – as had been said to her. She remembered wriggling and sobbing pettishly and feeling her hot reddened bulb being momentarily caressed by two strong seeking hands while she lay mulishly on the bed afterwards. – "It was awful," she said, whereat Jane half sat up over her and ran a speculative finger along Jane's lower lip. – "I don't s'pose it really was; you only allow yourself to think it was Jane. We all have to learn to put our naked bums up here, that's what".

"N...naked?" cried Jane, sitting up so that their noses bumped, and this bringing a surprised laugh from Jane. – "But what did you expect, darling? Don't tell me your skirt was down when you were spanked". Jane shook her head. She was spilling out more than she had ever intended to. – "I had my nightie on", she mumbled.

Yes, and your panties halfway down your legs, Nicky thought, but didn't say so. – "Well, then, what's the difference? You' re really learning poise here, Jane. We all screech at first, but we get used to it. Well, sort of", she added with a giggle. This evening would be special – she knew that. Her mouth felt a bit dry at the thought and in just half an hour she would be 'poised', as she had been trying to get over to Jane.

But Jane had to learn the hard way, Nicky decided. After all, they all did. The very idea of coming to St Catherine's on just a short-stay term was that there was an atmosphere of discipline here, and it was applied impartially, if one could call finger-tasting impartial. But that was part of it, too. That was the lead-in. The cane brought submissiveness, and Miss Marston was as bad as any of them, if bad was the word.

Miss Marston was thirty and some of the girls soon enough got a crush on her. It was clever, Nicky realised, that a curvy, soft-spoken female should be one's first teacher in certain respects. – "I don't want you to think about who I am, or even whether I am male or female, Nicky", she had been told on her first 'inspection and posture' night in the gym.

The gym was the place where you really got started, and not in front of other girls either. When it was dusk you knocked, tripped in and found Miss Marston waiting for you. And she would be smiling as if to say 'Welcome!' Miss Marston always blindfolded you first, as if to say "It doesn't matter where you are or who you are with". You were given a warning then not to jerk or snatch away as inspecting hands then flipped up the back of your black pleated skirt and unveiled your knickered bottom. Tight knicks were important – bottom-tight – because you had to learn to display that way.

"Hold skirt – up – UP!" Nicky remembered being told briskly while Miss Marston stood just behind her and Nicky could see nothing through the black velvet band across her eyes. Then the teacher's voice would come softly, "Well now, what have we here? Oh, beautiful isn't it? Stick it out a bit more, Nicky. Dip your back. Good. Stand perfectly still now, legs together. Keep your skirt up, Miss. This is Posture One – inspection. First inspection, shall we say? Still, I said – don't waver!"

"Shall we have Posture Two now?" Miss Marston's lulling voice would continue, "I want you to reach behind you, Nicky, and push your tight knicks down to below your black stocking tops. Just do it nice and slowly, as if you want to show it, darling. Yes – good – a bit more. Fine! Now hold your skirt up again. Lovely and round and smooth, aren't we? You see that bar in front of you? Now, sorry, of course, you can't, but if you let me guide you down.... No, it's O.K., you'll be safe. There – yes – just grasp hold of it while I unclip your skirt and – ah, there, you see – it's off!"

Bare-bottomed then and with urging injunctions to push her bottom out more, Nicky had 'shown' herself, and evidently to Miss Marston's approval. The blindfold helped, though. It was almost as if she could persuade herself that she didn't know what she was doing, showing her cleft like this.

"I believe you displayed a couple of times before you came here, Nicky, but not too willingly, eh? Well, we must do something about that, mustn't we? THIS is much, much better. Out more, please – right out towards me – good! This is a really splendid Posture Two, Nicky. You CAN do it, you see, but you felt embarrassed and selfconscious before, didn't you? I'm going to teach you not to be. I'm going to teach you ACCEPTANCE, Nicky. Your knicks have slid down below your knees now. No – don't move! Just spread your legs more and keep them taut. Ah yes – excellent, darling, excellent! NOW, what is the word we NEVER say when our knicks are down and we're bending over. Do you know it, Nicky?"

"No", answered Nicky truthfully enough, though if she had had time to really think about it.... but it was too late by then.

"That's the word, darling, yes – the word we never say, but we are going to be quiet, Nicky, very quiet. And do you know why, Nicky? Because I'm now holding a cane, and a nice sensible girl who is offering her bare bottom keeps as quiet as she can at times like this. It's best for all concerned, isn't it? Quiet now. No mote talking, darling", Miss Marston said just as if Nicky had herself been chattering away all the time.

But it wasn't the cane that came first to the breathlessly-waiting girl. It was a finger. The finger was curled and came up under the blissful bulb of Nicky's bottom and teased along the ridge formed by her puckered lovelips – whereat Nicky regrettably jerked. Regrettably, for no sooner had she done so (wilfully and rebelliously, as the teacher thought of it) than ZOOOO-WITT! came the right across her outstretched bum, bringing a whining cry from her that floated up to the gymnasium ceiling and then bounced off.

"I THOUGHT I said QUIET, Nicky", came Miss Marston's voice at length. "And when I say quiet...."

But that sentence was never finished, for precisely at that moment tapered fingers slid around and under Nicky's sleek tummy and soothed her love-notch again, causing Nicky's nostrils to pinch at the dual sensation she was then experiencing while the deep stinging resounded through her naked bottom still. Straining desperately, Nicky kept very quiet. The only movement was in the shimmering of her tummy as fingertips coaxed her pouting lips and rambled for a moment in the surrounding thicket of curls.

"Good, Nicky – that's VERY good. Now, two more, Miss, and I want this bottom of yours RIGHT out, please. No – even more than that. Yes, better. Keep those knicks stretched. I want you to feel that you're going to come into the cane, Nicky – come into it. Push your bottom out and up to meet it."

"GEEE-YEEEK!" Nicky had squealed then as a searing streak of fire seemed to course across her offered halfmoons. It was getting dark by then in the gym but Nicky didn't realise that under her blindfold. Her entire sensations were wrapped up in the fearful burning that invaded her with that second striping. Her hips waggled madly as if to shake it off, but for some reason Miss Marston didn't chide her for her screech. Unknown to Nicky she was more interested in the maintenance of her posture. Hard as it was to do so, Nicky had managed to keep her botty pushed out.

You little devil, Miss Marston thought admiringly and with a surprised, if muffled "OOOH-WE!" from Nicky she again cupped her plump young quim from the front while her free hand came with the sharpest of smacks into the girl's already deeply-stinging bottom.

"GOO-HOO! NO!" Nicky wailed, gripping the supporting bar even tighter.

SMACK! came Miss Marston's hand again and therewith another soulful "WO-WOH!" that was broken into sharply by her gym teacher saying crisply, "It's a Friday night, Nicky, and your panties are down. What is it?"

Unable to gather her wits for a moment and with the bulb of her superb arse already feeling as if it were in flames, Nicky failed to answer, endeavouring as she was to choke down sobs and further cries. But at such a moment Miss Marston would have none of that. – "I said it is a Friday night, Nicky. What did I say?" SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! And the red streaks left by the cane were then splurged into the stinging impact left by her palm and fingers.

"FRI-HI-DAY night! WOOOO!" Nicky sobbed.

"And your knickers are down and you're being good, aren't you, Nicky, eh!" SMACK-SPLATT!

"GOOO-WAAAAR! Yes! Yes, yes, yes!" Nicky blathered and was rewarded then by a gentle stroking of both her bottom and her cupped slit that made her bottom roll and wriggle. There was a sicky-burning, breathless feeling in her that invaded her slim body like a gentle cloud. She could hear herself hissing through her nose; quickly, quickly. Everything was swirling, and it was dark, dark, dark under the blindfold.

"It's a Friday night, Nicky, isn't it – or maybe a rainy Sunday afternoon, isn't it?" came Miss Marston's insistent whisper and therewith choking gurgles from Nicky who could feel her cunny getting stickier and stickier on the teacher's palm.

"DOO-DOOO-DAH!" Nicky whimpered incoherently. There were fireworks now in both her tummy and bottom. She could feel the moist fleshiness of herself rubbing sleekly over Miss Marston's cupping palm and the sicky, tingling feeling was increasing and seemed almost to be encouraged by the heat in her cleft peach which itself seemed swollen and wanting, wanting.... but surely not the smacks or the cane again? Her hips had begun to jerk, and not to the displeasure of her teacher who unknown to Nicky was smiling as she listened to every small sound the girl had emitted and felt every nubile movement of her as yet unsatisfied crotch.

But Miss Marston knew that this was no time to bring an L-plate spankee to fruition. They had to be kept waiting for it and in that way they would, whether consciously or not, associate discipline with final fulfilment and aftercare – which, as she could sense, Nicky was as all but ripe for.

"We'll have you cock-ready soon enough, darling", the teacher thought, but of a sudden – and to Nicky near despair as her cunny really began to bubble – she removed her teasing fingers from under the girl's crotch and brought Nicky upright, peeling off her blindfold and bringing the girl to press the top of her head blushingly (and with more urgent wriggling of her hips) against her teacher's fulsome and prominent tits.

As much as Miss Marston would have adored kneeling and tongueing Nicky's sticky pussy then, she knew she must resist it. There were several schools of thought about that, but the leading one at the moment was that the cock should go in first and give a girl a pulsing creaming after the cane, or even – in some cases – after a good spanking. Miss Marston's delirious tonguings came later – sometimes immediately afterwards or sometimes during a confidential cuddle in her bed an hour or so later.

When Mr Hebden, the Principal, caned Nicky it was different. Or at least it was at first. He instilled obedience simply by sternness. – "When a door is closed on you – when your knickers are down, Nicky, and the cane waits for you – you become suppliant, conscious of your need to be obedient to the older male. That is the understanding here. This is the principle on which we work. I tell you this because you have now been here for ten days and are beginning to understand. Do you understand, Nicky?" he had asked her.

Nicky had hung her head. She was already hanging her knickers, with her skirt held dutifully up and Mr Hebden had several times glanced approvingly at her fresh, plump bush where the tops of her thighs curved very, very slightly inwards to leave a tiny, inviting gap even when her legs were closed.

"A little bit," she had ventured. Mr Hebden liked you putting on a silly little voice and she did her best to sound fifteen rather than the eighteen and a bit that she was.

"A little bit will be enough for the moment, Nicky. The cane will teach you the rest. Loosen your skirt now and take it off, together with your knickers. Undo your tie and unbutton your blouse and then walk slowly to the desk. Yes, Nicky, now!"

It was such a blatant, naughty thing to do, and yet Nicky knew she had to respond. The gentle waving back and forth of the cane in his hand told her so. There were always whispers around the college that if you were quick and obedient, you only got three instead of six. If you were silly and awkward then you might get eight, or more, and Nicky couldn't bear to think of that.

"You look very beautiful, Nicky. Now, let me see your posture", Mr Hebden had said, not taking his eyes off of her midriff where his vision scanned her then half visible titties, the whorl of her navel and the thickly-curled puff of her mount. Conscious that her black self-supporting stockings were drawn up tight, Nicky swallowed and ventured closer to the desk, her movements making her open blouse flutter and her brown nipples show.

When she bent, dutifully and hoping that it would be only three, she had parted her slim legs as Miss Marston had told her to, and orbed out her bottom. It was partly true, as she was beginning to realise, that if you went INTO the cane, it wasn't quite so bad. – "Remember your future Friday nights, Nicky", the gym mistress had said before Nicky had gone into the Principal's study.

It was warm in there at least and her bottom felt warm – warm and exposed, its cleft fully shown for his approval – as she dimly hoped, though conscious that her legs-open, jutting position also revealed the fig of her nest, or her 'haven', as Miss Marston called it. A haven was somewhere where one came to rest, Nicky told herself, and knew that something exceedingly naughty was going to happen to her, and that that was really why her bottom was stuck out for it.

Mr Hebden praised her posture, though. That was something. He even stepped back more to admire the view of her twinky, stockinged legs and the peeping thatch under her tremulously-waiting bulb. But then when she heard him step forward again, Nicky knew he was ready for it – and so, in every sense except eagerness – so was she.

"We have learned to be quiet, I believe", Mr Hebden intoned, flexing the whippy cane in his hand. Nicky didn't know whether she was supposed to reply to that, but decided finally on silence. – "Silence means consent, you know, Nicky", Miss Marston had told her, added "Especially when your panties are being rolled down".

"WHEEE-OOOH!" squeaked Nicky in the next second, for the first came sooner than she had bargained for. Surreptitiously she had even come up a bit on her toes to give Mr Hebden a better 'peep', and although it was an excellent pointer that he didn't fail to note, he still knew that Nicky was 'treatment-due'. Otherwise she could still prove giggly and frisky if a cock-touch was put up to her too soon.

Mr Hebden allowed Nicky a full twenty second of quiet sobbing then before he silently swept back the cane again and again he measured the distance. The first red streak showed beautifully. One did not wait until it 'spread'.

"THOW-OOOCH!" came Nicky's slightly louder cry at the next which he skilfully placed an inch under the first. Artistry was all, as Mr Hebden often smugly told himself. She wasn't roof-screeching, at least. Miss Marston had done as good a job on her as was possible, and in any case Nicky seemed to be a natural. What she HAD to be taught was to take the cane first. Ideally the very sight of a cane held in a waiting hand in a bedroom would henceforth bring her to automatically begin easing up her skirt – if skirt she was wearing, and not a nightie.

Nicky – who knew nothing of the subtleties of such thoughts – uttered another howling wail, and even louder this time as, after a due interval of 'soaking in', the cane took her right under her bulb, making her toes strain up and her black high heels lift an inch off the carpet. – "NO-HO-HO, sir. PLEASE!" came her beseeching sob, but Mr Hebden was implacable. The fees that he called for demanded that he should be.

"You are NOT thrusting it out to me, Nicky", he uttered sternly. – "HOOO-WOO-WOO, I'm t...t...trying, sir, I am", Nicky sobbed, squeezing her bumcheeks tight and purposefully allowing him to see that she was doing so by her vivid muscular contractions.

"ARE you – are you really, Nicky? Then let us have another obedience test, please. I want your top off, and quickly. Up straight, girl, and do it. Cast it aside together with your tie – and now, TURN!"

"SOO-HOOO-HOOO!" Nicky sobbed blindly as she obeyed and made to bend again, her quivering nipples bared completely and brushing the top of his polished desk. It was the first time she had stood in stockings and high heels only in front of a man and her bottom was raging hot and there were tears blurring her eyes, and she wanted something, she wanted something, but not the awful cane! – "P...please, sir", she stammered, trying to peep at him under her arm.

"Yes, Nicky, what? Quickly, girl?" – "Well, sir, I want to be good, I do, really, but please don't cane me again – please!"

A silence followed that – a silence so awesome that Nicky wondered whether he had ignored her plea and was flexing that wicked cane again. But then.... "You want to lie down, Nicky?" he asked and received her slow, gulping "Yes". Perhaps it was then that Mr Hebden wondered if he had spoken too quickly, too impulsively for once, but the way her hips waggled as Nicky walked to the waiting couch told him that it was time for her – almost.

When Nicky subsided and rolled on to her back (the movement making her hot bottom squirm even more), she knew it was the most wicked thing she had ever done. Well almost. Up to then at least. But it was when Mr Hebden leaned forward and carefully slipped the cane under one limp wrist and moved her hand pointedly towards her crotch that Nicky knew, with flushed face and biting lip, what he wanted to see her do next.

The room blurred then and her eyes half closed, and her finger began to move in rhythm with her bouncing bottom, and she couldn't help herself, even though he was watching her, watching the frank opening of her legs; but after all it would be Friday nights soon....