Story from Februs 30.
The Secret Classroom
by Edward Masterson
The girl mounted the steps and stopped under the Regency-style portico. She was flanked by massive white-painted columns and a panelled door with a semicircular fanlight. It blazed with light. Although the night was unseasonably mild she shivered slightly. As Verity summoned up the courage to press the bell her knee-length coat moved easily over the sheer skin of PVC she wore underneath.
Being a Sunday evening the streets were quiet. Oh, if only Karl could be with her now, she wished. But that was impossible – as Karl had patiently explained. He had insisted she came on her own. It was like being caught in one of those tunnel mousetraps where you can see the way out but are unable to take it. And why, oh why had he been so insistent she wear this catsuit for Miss Praeger?
Miss Praeger was her boss at the branch library where Verity had worked since leaving college. So unlike easygoing old Mr Burbage who had retired from the post last year. Now Verity was kept up to the mark collecting fines and ensuring that no more than three books per ticket were issued.
'Discipline, Verity. That's what we need to do to set a good example,' Miss Praeger was always keen to emphasise.
'If a borrower cannot return a book on time it shows an elementary lack of self-discipline. The fine imposes no hardship, after all. As my papa used to say, self-discipline is the only basis for success and fulfilment in life.'
The impressive front door of Miss Praeger's house swung open with a faint creak, startling the slight figure on the porch. Although blazing with light the entrance hallway appeared to be empty. The girl crept in, pushing the door closed behind her, at the same time noting that the latch was controlled by a wire cable which climbed up one wall via a small pulley.
'There you are at last, Verity. I thought you'd never come.'
Looking up, she saw Miss Praeger leaning over the bannister under the dark skylight. Her voice still echoed in the marble-floored stairwell.
'Up you shin,' she called in a friendly tone, but the underlying timbre of her voice could still make Verity flinch. As she climbed towards Miss Praeger's dark figure she tried not to think of Morticia in the Addams family. In Verity's gloomiest moments she could lighten her mood in this way, but now the last thing she felt like doing was reciprocating the confident smile that greeted her. Tonight she saw a new Miss Praeger. Her raven hair fell free to her shoulders (unlike in the library where it was kept in a severe bun) and her dress was ankle-length.
'The stairs shouldn't be a trial for a young thing like you,' Miss Praeger intoned. She insists on treating me as if we were from totally different generations, thought Verity, even though there's scarcely ten years between us.
'You'll find the flat is quite cosy.' The door closed softly but firmly behind her. 'When I was a girl we had the whole house, but when papa passed away my mother divided it into flats. Somehow I've never felt like leaving. I suppose I must be getting set in my ways.'
This was accompanied by a refined growl, the nearest Miss Praeger got to a chuckle. Verity stood in the corridor that now served as a hall, still with her coat buttoned to her neck.
As always when she was alone with Miss Praeger she felt resolution ebbing away with each passing second. After Mr Burbage had reached retirement age six months ago Miss Praeger arrived and Verity's ordeal had commenced forthwith.
* * *
Normally Verity was out of reach, working at the issue desk. But at least once a week Miss Praeger would stick her head out of her office, to strike dread into the heart of her assistant with: 'When you've a minute, Verity.'
She still remembered one such occasion barely a month after her arrival.
'Verity, I hope you won't take what I'm going to say too much to heart.' This was accompanied by a bewitching flash of while teeth.
'I'll try not to, Miss Praeger', she stuttered. Had she absent-mindedly shelved a Cartland under Westerns or placed the latest Stephen King under DIY?
'It is to do with your mode of dress, my dear.'
Already she sounds like my mother, thought Verity, who still lived under the same roof as hers.
'I couldn't help noticing that several of the male readers were watching your derriere just now as you bent down to restock the shelves.'
'But surely you don't think I...' Already Verity felt her treacherous cheeks beginning to glow.
'Verity, dear, you must try not to be so sensitive. All I'm saying is, if you must wear jeans, and there appears to be nothing whatsoever in the library regulations to forbid it; then you might consider a more appropriate style of undergarment.'
Verity felt her head begin to spin with the onset of panic.
'You wear such skimpy things, Verity, and they are so apparent from the rear. Any young woman with a neat figure like yours must be aware of the effect you create in a pair of tightfitting trousers. Now all I'm suggesting is that you wear something more ample underneath to discourage those furtive looks. There, I'm sure I need say no more on the subject.'
She was dismissed, like some fifth-former who had been caught writing a love letter in class. So what was she to do? Karl, as always, had the answer. He went with her to the street market the next free morning and together they chose a selection of lacy thongs.
'At least the Fraulein Praeger will not be complaining any more of a visible panties line.'
His unidiomatic English for once went uncorrected as the two of them burst into uncheckable gales of laughter.
It was while trying on the underwear later that Karl first took her over his knee. He wanted to go further, but she knew she must make him wait. Her mother had not yet met him and Verity suspected she might not approve of this penniless student who had come to the UK to study law.
Verity thought she'd never have the courage to wear them to work. At Karl's prompting, however, she did. And no more was said on the matter, even if she felt Miss Praeger's eyes boring holes in her derriere.
* * *
'Well, aren't you going to take off your coat?' Verity came back to the present with a bump. Slowly she undid the buttons, knowing that she was, by this action, creeping further into the trap. But why had Miss Praeger invited her here? And how did she know about the coral-pink catsuit?
She became very aware that the figure-hugging uniform, with its back lacing down to the cleft of her buttocks, left nothing to the imagination. She took a deep breath as the last coat button was undone and Miss Praeger slipped it instantly from her shoulders.
The sensation left her feeling as if she were utterly naked. To Verity's surprise, instead of a gasp of shocked disapproval from Miss Praeger, she received a frankly approving look from top to toe.
The catsuit had naturally been Karl's idea. They went together after work on Friday to the party shop for a weekend hire. With his encouragement she tried it on in the dressing room and then dared to face herself in the full-length mirror.
When she saw every curve sharply outlined she scarcely needed any prompting. It was like a second skin, somehow accentuating the thrust of her pert breasts and buttocks. This was a new her that she could not stop admiring. The urge to create a sensation by walking straight out the door was almost irresistible.
Once they got home, of course, the shiny PVC suit went straight back on. She could tell that Karl was getting as excited as she was. He began by sliding his hands down her arms and then he transferred his touch to her thighs. The slight veiling of sensation made her yearn for his real touch all the more. Then his hands moved round to her buttocks which, after pinching quite roughly, he treated to a few playful slaps.
His hands moved over her hips and down towards her sharply delineated pubis. Already she was panting with desire as his fingers teased the sensitivities of her labial folds through the second skin. It somehow felt safe but at the same time extremely decadent. I'm not really naked, Verity had to keep reminding herself.
She didn't remember how she ended up lying over Karl's knees with her coral-clad buttocks so prominently positioned. His initial slaps gained in strength as he began to establish mastery over her, crooning all the time in his strongly inflected English: 'Nein, nein, meine Madchen, you must not struggle so. This is your big Bruder Karl who wants to make you into a good, good little girl.'
Soon his more vigorous smacks were echoing round the bare walls of his small rented room and Verity began to fear that the next-door lodger would hear. She found it difficult to get him to stop, and in a sense she didn't want to, even though the pain was becoming quite sharp. Already one hand was at the nape of her neck, starting to unthread the laces, which Verity prevented by twisting like an eel. She could see that he was very red in the face and sweating freely.
There was only one way to get Karl to stop. Verity agreed to do a strip, so that he could inspect his handiwork. Luckily, she reminded herself as Karl finished unlacing her, she had a pair of briefs on underneath.
But as she hesitantly peeled off the catsuit (how it seemed to cling!) she nearly lost the undergarment. Pulling the white cotton back into place she noticed that the crotch was warm and wet with her desire. So she barely resisted as Karl reached up from where he was sitting to pull down the waistband at the back.
He gave a low whistle, stroking the angry red patches on each buttock. They made a startling contrast to the whiteness of the rest of her body. He brought over a small shaving mirror so that she could see for herself. As she looked she felt the heat spreading down her belly and under, infusing the lips of her sex with a glow. The labia pulsed and seemed to protrude in a way she could not remember before.
Verity just had to check for herself. To Karl's delighted surprise one hand reached down and furled around her mons. Soon she was lost in her own self-induced bliss, a finger parting the lips now well slicked with her own juices. Karl needed no second bidding, peeling off his clothes with ardent fingers. Verity stood almost on tiptoe before him with her briefs around her knees, one finger still tracing her blushing cleft while the other hand lifted her light hair from her neck. She seemed to be floating away on clouds of desire.
* * *
'Well, Verity, now we can have our little talk with no interruptions.' The husky voice of Miss Praeger was a harsh awakening from her dreamlike memory. 'Come along first of all into my boudoir and we'll have a drink and relax a little while I explain what this is all about.'
As they made their wav down the narrow corridor, Verity noticed there were five or six doors before they reached Miss Praeger's so-called boudoir. She could scarcely suppress a gasp as she was shown in. It was like no other room she had seen before.
It reminded her of a very large sheikh's tent. On the walls there were animal skins and tapestries. More fur rugs were scattered about the floor. The lighting was low and it was several seconds before she could fully make out her surroundings.
To her right was an antique dresser that was used as a drinks cabinet. Otherwise the only furniture was a long leather upholstered divan in the centre of the room facing the curtained window. Incense sticks added to the unreality of Verity's sensations. From concealed speakers a hyena-like female crooned unsatisfied desires to an exotic backing.
She fell herself succumbing to the hypnotic spell of these sensations. Verity came to herself again as a cool glass was pressed into her hand. Miss Praeger stood close beside her and for the first time she noticed that the long dark gown was entirely made of supple leather.
'I think you'll like this drink; it's a herbal distillation that is claimed to energise vital forces. Now let's sit down and talk,' Miss Praeger indicated the swelling divan which squeaked slightly as they sat down together.
The smell of the leather enveloped Verity, reminding her of tight-fitting gloves and new shoes, and one favourite handbag that eventually came apart at the seams. It also reminded her of something that Karl had shown her much more recently. But no, she didn't want to think of that just now.
'You haven't tried your drink,' Miss Praeger continued, taking a dainty sip of hers. It had a sharp aftertaste which Verity did not much fancy, but at least it helped to overcome the dryness of her mouth.
'What I'm going to say may come as something of a shock. I know your Karl quite well. I too have German blood in my veins, a paternal grandfather whom, unfortunately, I never knew. Karl is patently devoted to you but he would like you to be a little more, shall we say, daring in your relationship.'
Verity gulped but remained silent. What else did this interfering woman know about her private life?
'You see, I had to call Karl in for a talk. It's these overdue fines. Yes, the ones that I now see you thought you were going to keep secret from me.'
'But Karl never mentioned...'
'No, he was under strict instructions from me not to breathe a word of this to you. He realised that if I knew that you had been renewing books far beyond their return date and falling to collect fines then the consequences for you would be grave indeed.'
'Karl needs those law books for this year's exams. There is no way he could afford to buy them, Miss Praeger. His family are not well off.' Verity gulped down some more of the tart drink as she felt her panic rising.
'That's as maybe. Your actions are a credit to your heart if not to your head, Verity. He is a fine young man, if a little too aware of his own qualities. But I was going to tell you what agreement I have reached with Karl.'
Miss Praeger inched closer on the leather divan and touched her arm confidentially. Verity's head was in a whirl.
'Of course it would be quite out of the question for him to repay the accumulated fines of the last six months, so we struck a deal. I agreed not to pass on your misdemeanours to a higher authority as long as I was free to discipline you in a private capacity.'
There was an indrawn breath from Verity. 'So is that why you insisted I came like this?'
That was actually Karl's idea. He pointed out that your costume was to be returned tomorrow and it seemed a pity not to get full wear out of it. He must have thought I would enjoy seeing you like this,' Miss Praeger gave another of those low-throated chuckles that could make Verity's heart jump.
'How am I to be... disciplined?'
'Karl told me you were developing quite a fondness for spanking. Don't blush so, you silly little goose. It's quite normal for young women who have lived a sheltered life such as you have to develop such fantasies. But now yon are old enough to begin experiencing life for real.'
There was a silence as Miss Praeger looked steadily into Verity's face. The girl looked away and took another sip.
Eventually the silence was broken as Miss Praeger continued in a brisk tone. 'Now finish your drink, Verity. We're going to another room, one even more special than this. As I think I told you, my father was a teacher, a wonderful teacher. He gave his life to imparting the Classics. I have created a small museum in his memory and I'd like to show you. Follow me, please.'
Miss Praeger's tall figure, stylish and resplendent in her supple maroon dress, stood over Verity. She noticed for the first time how well-endowed Miss Praeger's bosom was in the low-cut gown. In her garish party costume she once again felt at a disadvantage as the librarian led the way back along the corridor, pausing only briefly to unlock one door and remove the key. She beckoned Verity inside with a level gaze.
* * *
The new room was even larger than the boudoir, but not nearly as inviting. It had a slightly musty small, Verity noticed. There was only a skylight for light and ventilation. The high walls were dark panelled up to shoulder height and then became an indeterminate off-white. There were two rows of old school benches that had clearly seen rough treatment in the past, and beside her stood a teacher's desk on a high dais.
'Look around. You will find I have preserved many of dear papa's teaching aids. Maps of the Classical World, reproductions of suitable urns and vases, even his bust of Homer. The classroom furniture was donated by the school as a token of respect for the 30 years he taught there with scarcely a day taken off ill. It was this dedication and discipline that hastened his death, I am convinced. Of course,' she sighed, 'things are quite different now.'
Verity tried desperately to grasp some meaning from this latest twist. Dutifully she moved to take a closer look at Homer. The buzz of the striplights was distracting. Then she heard the sound of the key turning behind her.
She whirled round, to find Miss Praeger standing behind her father's high desk. Her penetrating gaze rooted Verity to the spot. Miss Praeger lifted the lid soundlessly, reached inside and produced something which was not immediately discernible in the dim light. She lowered the lid and the object was swiftly laid on top with a slight slap.
'Now Verity, the time has come for you to take the discipline which by rights you should have received mouths ago.'
She gulped, thinking that she might be in for a few slaps across the wrist or a tap with a ruler. Surely Miss Praeger, a refined and educated woman, could not be thinking of anything more severe?
'Bend over that desk facing you, with your arms stretched out to rest on the row behind.'
'But Miss Praeger!'
'Come now, girl. You didn't for a moment think you would get away with defrauding the Library Service of more than £50?' Her interrogative tone had suddenly hardened with a hint of menace.
Verity's head whirled once more. 'Surely it can't be as much as that!'
'You lost count, didn't you Verity? Well, it's what comes of lapsing into complacency. Believe me, that's a lesson you will learn painfully tonight.'
'I can't think what you mean by adopting that kind of tone. There was no intention of fraud against the library. You surely must see that,' she squeaked. 'No one else was asking to borrow the books.'
'Be quiet, girl. When I address you in this room you remain silent. You speak only when invited to by your teacher.'
Her voice was now harsh, almost metallic. There was something very strange about this room and what it was used for. She shut certain thoughts out of her mind. And then she saw what Miss Praeger carried in her hand.
Only a few nights ago Karl had produced something similar after one of their now pretty regular hand spanking sessions. They had just graduated to a long-handled clothes brush which produced a sharp crack like a pistol shot. Bui it resulted in a wonderful warm glow to her trembling globes. It was then he produced the 3-tongued tawse to show her what would he called the next pace. He meant step, of course.
There was something about the dull gleam of that grey strap that frightened Verity, plus a pungent smell of new leather that assailed her senses. Now, as in a nightmare, she noticed that Miss Praeger was running between the thumb and fingers of one hand something almost identical. But this one was far from new and its stiffness creaked slightly in Miss Praeger's grasp.
'Bend over, now, and take your punishment. Karl and I have agreed to share out the apportionment of strokes. There will be one for each pound owed to the Library Authority. You will hardly feel a thing in that outfit and the drink you have taken contains a mild herbal painkiller.'
At this Verity found herself being pushed over the desk by a firm hand in the small of her back. Although shocked by the turn of events, she was relieved to remember that she was not totally naked and defenceless. The glossy PVC skin, although now tightly compressing her haunches and labia, was at least going to take the edge of her first taste of the strap. But it was so humiliating to be treated like a schoolgirl.
'How many?' she asked in a tiny voice, looking back over her shoulder.
'We will begin with six now. But your partner will be administering some more later tonight.' Verity's shocked face was turned to face the front firmly but gently. 'You will help me by counting. Start with Six To Go.'
'Six to go.' Verity heard the creak of the ancient tawse on its upward and return journey. The sensation was only a slight burning.
'Five to go.' The next time was definitely harder, and Verity now suspected that she was being broken in gently by the experienced librarian. A slight pause as Miss Praeger adjusted her sleeve. On the fourth stroke she swore she heard Miss Praeger grunt and after that she knew that the final two would be a trial indeed.
'Two to go.' Again the unmistakable grunt and this time the burn grew in sharpness before eventually fading.
'One to go.' This time there was practically no pause before it was administered, much lower down and below the pantyline. This time Verity sprang up and rubbed furiously, angry despite herself. Then, in a trice, she remembered where she was.
'Your apologies are, I'm afraid, insufficient,' Miss Praeger declared. 'You will need to receive an extra set for indiscipline. And this time it will need to be without the catsuit.'
'Miss Praeger, please. I've had enough.'
Despite Verity's struggles the librarian swiftly began the unlacing. She felt the cooler air on her back as the laces came free. Her raven-haired oppressor pulled the second skin free of the girl's buttocks to admire her handiwork. Then the front door buzzer went. Miss Praeger shot her a quick glance which had a touch of exasperation.
'Now, I think I know who that is. You will be excused your extra punishment after all at my hand. But I see there are dark stripes left on your costume. Get fully undressed and I will bring you your coat.'
As Verity stripped off the pink garment completely she could hear Miss Praeger talking to someone over the intercom in the hall, but failed to catch the words. The girl was standing quite naked in Miss Praeger's strange schoolroom when she returned with her coat. She placed it on the high desk then made Verity turn round and display her glowing haunches.
'Mm, I seem to have let you off lightly,' the librarian stood arms akimbo with a lazy smile. 'Karl says he is in no hurry, so bend over again as you were. This time I will use the usual weapon for punishing beginners.' She brandished a heavy wooden 12-inch ruler.
This time Verity distinctly heard the whirr and knew it would be harder. The slap of the flat wooden surface surprised her. She had never dreamed the pain could be so sharp, but this time it was on her bare buttocks in the empty classroom. Holding her firmly down Miss Praeger inflicted five more in sharp succession before releasing the writhing figure of the girl.
'Ow, that really hurt!' Verity could think of nothing more original as her hands went to smooth her flaming haunches. To her dismay she had a tear ready to roll down one cheek.
'Never mind, your Karl will finish off the job later. Put on your coat. I will keep hold of this for tonight and give it to you clean tomorrow.' She held up the catsuit.
Verity felt she must find out the truth, even if it was unpleasant. 'How do you know so much about Karl?'
To her surprise Miss Praeger came over and held her gently at arms' length, giving her a genuine look of concern. 'Verity, my dear, your innocence does you credit. But I think you need to ask your Karl a few questions, especially about what he does most Monday nights.'
'Do you know where he goes?'
'Why yes, he comes here with one or two other gentlemen who enjoy watching a young girl such as yourself receive punishment at my hands. It is all very civilised, I assure you. We have drinks in the boudoir afterwards. But, of course, they all pay me generously for making the arrangements.'
'You do this as a business?'
'On a branch librarian's wages, my dear, I could never afford to keep this place up.'
'But how could Karl possibly afford it?'
'Believe me, Verity, he could afford to come every night if he wished. His family treat him generously. I understand you have not yet visited his luxurious flat just around the corner of the square.'
'I thought he lived in that boarding house. So why ever couldn't he pay the library fines for the overdue books?'
'Because he wanted to put you in my hands for an evening. With the best of intentions, he thought I could bring you on a little. And that is exactly what has happened. I hope you enjoyed your first taste of CP and will go on to enjoy more.'
Miss Praeger sighed softly. 'Now Karl is waiting for you in the hallway. Enjoy the rest of the night.'
The evident sadness in Miss Praeger's voice made Verity wonder about her love life. For the first time she felt she was seeing a vulnerable side of her superior. Impulsively she went up to her and held her fleetingly in a cheek to cheek embrace.
Then, with a 'See you tomorrow' tossed over one shoulder, Verity made a beeline for the door. Tripping delicately down the staircase she looked down to see Karl's squat figure dark against the white marble floor of the hallway. He was due her an explanation. And she knew she would get it, eventually, when he was ready. Hugging her nakedness, she was strangely excited at what awaited her beforehand.