Date: Tue, 17 Jun 2008 23:13:02 +0200 (CEST) From: Teresa Yam Subject: A FINE OLD TIME (Category: Lesbian/Young Friends) As a departure from my usual MO, I have presented this story in a bawdy style typical of the Victorian era -- at least, that was my intention. One can only try these things... This story is based on an erotic story published in a Victorian era journal titled "The Pearl". A FINE OLD TIME The first four years of school passed uneventfully and during that time I was only in one serious scrape, which I will relate as it led to my first taste of the birch. Miss Bunt was a fair-minded and kind schoolmistress and only had to resort to personal punishment for the most serious offences. She decided upon this not lightly and only when she was convinced that to withhold punishment would be to the detriment and well-being of her flock. In other words if she detected something untoward in a pupil, something that was likely to affect their character for the worse in later years, she would nip things in the bud before they had a chance to fester. I was almost eleven years old when I discovered my gift for caricaturing. This particular `talent' was mainly honed while in the classroom at school. One of our governesses, Miss Pennington, a bit of an old crab of about forty-five, inspired my inclinations as an artist with her comic features and mannerisms. These little sketches would be covertly passed around under the desks for the collective amusement of my fellow pupils. I was quietly pleased with my efforts, and a number of admonishments from Miss Bunt for inattention to the lesson in hand had little to no effect on dampening my enthusiasm for doing it. One afternoon Miss Bunt had fallen asleep at her desk, she quite often did this after she had set us some work to get on with. But you had to be careful, she had the uncanny knack of waking up at just the right (or wrong) time. How she managed it was a constant source of amazement among us. On this occasion I had seized the opportunity to make a couple of very cheeky sketches. The first one depicted Miss Pennington sitting on a chamber pot, obviously in the throes of relieving herself; while the second was in a rural setting. This showed the old crab stooping down in a field showing her fat backside, her skirts having been raised and her undergarments lowered while she once again answered a call of nature. The first girl I showed them to, Anne Butcher, who sat alongside me, almost collapsed laughing. She had great trouble controlling herself and with the effort of holding it in, so as not to waken Miss Bunt, her face went so red I was certain she would burst a blood vessel. I'd never witnessed such a reaction to my drawings before and I must say I felt greatly complimented by it. Two other girls were so anxious to see the cause of Anne's amusement, they too were peering over my shoulder to look at my slate. They burst into loud guffaws immediately and before I could do anything about it, Miss Bunt had woken up and was on her way over to where we were causing the commotion. I was about to start rubbing my slate clean when she said: "No, don't do that, Emily. I'd very much like to see just what it is that's causing you girls such amusement.." There was a deathly silence, even Anne Butcher had managed to recover herself. But inside I sensed that this time I'd really gone too far. "Hmm, very interesting, Emily. If only you could apply yourself to your lessons with the same gusto and attention to detail..." She clapped her hands together. "Now you lot...back to your places -- chop-chop!" Miss Bunt smiled at me. "I wonder what Miss Pennington would think of this?" "At least you knew who it was meant to be, miss." "Your cheek is not becoming of you, Emily. I'm going to have to punish you severely. I have let you get away with this sort of thing far too long. I have no choice but to take action. Now clean your slate. Lord knows what Miss Pennington would think if she saw this. Now come with me." Miss Bunt led me out of the classroom and took me to Miss Pennington's office. Susan, the servant girl was dusting around the shelves. "I'm afraid this young lady must be punished for her effrontery, Miss Pennington," said Miss Bunt. "She has been above herself once too often. I won't tell you exactly what she has done, but suffice to say she has insulted a loyal and trusted member of staff. "Susan? Would you fetch my birch rod, please. I must administer punishment while my blood is hot, as I am normally too forgiving and fear I may let her off if I wait too long." I threw myself on my knees, in a fit of peak, appealing for leniency. But Miss Bunt had well and truly made up her mind. "You should have thought of the consequences before you drew such shameful things. The very idea of one of my young ladies being capable of such a thing is abhorrent to me. These prurient ideas cannot be allowed to settle in your mind for an instant. I must beat them out of you!" Miss Pennington, with a grim look of satisfaction, now took me by the wrist, just as Susan, a stout, strong girl of about twenty appeared with what looked to me a fearful big bunch of birch twigs neatly tied up with red velvet ribbon. "Now, Emily," said Miss Bunt, "kneel down, confess your deed and kiss the rod," taking the bunch from Susan's hands, and extending it to me as a queen might her sceptre to a supplicant subject. Anxious to get over the inevitable and make my punishment as light as possible, I knelt down with real tears of penitence and begged her to be as lenient as her sense of justice would allow. I knew I deserved what was due me but that didn't make it any easier too bear. I would take care in future not to insult Miss Pennington again, whom I was very sorry to have caricatured so cruelly. I kissed the rod, resigning myself to the fate that awaited me. "Ah, Miss Bunt!" said Miss Pennington, "I see how quickly the sight of the rod brings repentance." "And so it should, Miss Pennington. In fact I think the disgrace of having the birch far outweighs any physical discomfort for the offender, don't you?" "I agree entirely, Miss Bunt. Now, would you mind if I made myself comfortable while you proceed?" "It will be a pleasure, Miss Pennington. Please...be seated..." Miss Bunt turned to me. "Now, you impudent scribbler, lift your clothes and bare your behind! Seeing as that part of the anatomy is a pet subject of yours, let's see if you're as keen on showing your own as illustrating somebody else's." I lifted my skirts and was then ordered to open my drawers also. My hands were shaking terribly as I fumbled with the stays, but I managed to do as requested. Between them, Miss Bunt and Susan then pinned up my dress and petticoats as high as my shoulders and I was told to lie across a desk. Susan then stood in front of me, clasping both my hands so tightly she pinched the skin. The French governess, who had been called in to assist, then came across to us. She spread my legs apart and held them there. I was helplessly spread-eagled and I knew what an immodest spectacle I must have presented. How my face burned with shame! Miss Bunt flourished the rod with no little enthusiasm for the task ahead. She made it hiss through the air in a show of mock demonstration and I heard a few titters from my select audience. "Now, Emily, let this thrashing you are about to receive be a caution to you. You have behaved despicably and deserve to be made an example of. You can count yourself lucky I haven't invited the rest of the class in to witness your humbling. I hope after we have finished you will apply your talents in a more positive and fulfilling direction." And with that little speech she began to lay into me. The bunch of birch twigs whistled through the air and struck my bottom with a terrifying force. Miss Bunt wasted no time in following this up with another, and another, and another in a sustained attack that seemed to go on and on. The strikes felt so vindictive and cruel I was sure I would bleed. All my affection and tender feelings toward Miss Bunt were suddenly in disarray. How could she be so cruel? And to make a spectacle of me. I pleaded for mercy but she ignored me and pressed on. Each resounding swish and crack was met my an accompanying gasp of amazement from my audience as I stoically bore each and every stroke meted out by Miss Bunt. "I hope I'm getting through to you," she said, resting a moment to catch her breath. "Your backside is becoming quite flushed. You see, Miss Pennington, Yvette, Susan..? Look what happens when a bottom is thoroughly chastised. Do I not have a fine aim?" There were titters again. I felt my resolve weaken and started to wriggle against the hands that still held me in position. "Please, miss, won't you stop now? I don't think I can take much more." "Nonsense! I haven't done with you yet. I will let you know when you've had enough. Now keep still." Miss Bunt, having rested, now went back to her work with renewed vigour. I turned and caught a glimpse of her face which usually had a pale, calm complexion. It was now highly flushed with excitement and a dribble of spittle ran from the corner of her mouth. Her eyes glittered with what can only be described as wanton lust. I didn't realise it at the time of course, I was too young to understand such subtleties. It's only in hindsight that I have come to that conclusion. It was at this point I must have fainted for I remember nothing more till I woke up in bed with a very tender, hot and tingling backside. It was almost a fortnight before the marks of that thrashing faded completely. I hadn't realised that dear, sweet Miss Bunt could be so cruel, but then I guess she really did want me to learn from my mistake. I didn't dare err again and I made a conscious effort to apply myself fully to my studies, something that didn't go unnoticed by Miss Bunt who was quite proud of my improvement. She showed me her appreciation whenever we were alone together by hugging and kissing me and I couldn't help but forgive her all that had gone before. She would make me quite overcome with her generous compliments and caresses. I also had the total admiration of all my fellow pupils for enduring such a thrashing. I had somehow become a heroine in their eyes. When I was twelve I acquired a jolly bedfellow, Alice. She was only two years older than me but appeared far more mature than her years. She seemed to know so much about the world. She was a beautiful girl, fair haired and fair-skinned with a plump figure, large sensuous eyes, and flesh as firm and smooth as ivory. I was totally in love with her and she seemed to take a fair fancy to me also. On only the second night we slept together (we had a small room to ourselves). She kissed and hugged me so lovingly that I became all hot and confused. She took such liberties with me that it fair took my breath away and I felt my face was covered with burning blushes as her hot kisses on my lips and the wandering of her hands across the most private parts of my person made me all agitated and breathless. "How you shake, dear Emily," she said. "Are you afraid? There's really no need. Why don't you touch me in the way I have been touching you?" I began to reciprocate, noticing as I did how her muscles contracted when I touched the different parts of her body. Her limbs moved in direct response to my advances, as if leading me on, showing me I was moving in the right direction. How delightful and exciting it all was. I began to realise the meaning of some of the things Miss Bunt had taught me during the time we had been alone during the previous year. "Put your tongue in my mouth, it is a great inducement to love and I do want to love you so, dear Emily. Give me your hand. Put it here. Can you feel the hair around my fanny? Now rub your finger just here, won't you?" Her ribald dialogue seemed to fire me with such passion. I'd never felt so alive before. And thus she introduced me to the gentle art of mutual frigging. This was a life-changing revelation to me. I had heard stories from other girls about the joys of touching oneself. But never about touching and caressing another person there. Her fingerings made me tremble and fired my blood, and the way she sucked my tongue was indeed delicious. I felt her body suddenly arch and stiffen and she moaned so terribly I thought I had hurt her. My finger was wet with a sticky substance. I thought she had wet the bed, but this was not so. She then covered me with kisses for a moment before lying still and gathering her breath. "What is it, Alice? What happened to you? Did I hurt you?" "Oh, no, no, my sweet, sweet girl," she said. "You were just wonderful. I just need to rest a moment and then I will do something for you." When she started on me I begged her to push her fingers right up. She faithfully obliged and I then lay back while she frigged me deeply and deliciously until a wonderful sensation started building inside me. In no time at all my body was arching against her thrusting fingers and a melting feeling drained away like liquid gold from my stomach. My lover had brought down my first maiden spend. Next night we repeated our lascivious entertainment, only this time we were far more adventurous. She slid down my body and started kissing me between the legs. It shocked me at first. I didn't know what to think. I couldn't believe how anyone could do such a thing, so daring, so naughty and unashamedly rude. But it was wonderful, and when she put her tongue inside me I thought I would surely explode. She brought me once again to a delicious spend, but not just one this time. She kept on at me until I felt two more convulsions come in quick succession so that my body shuddered from head to toe and left me weak. It was simply wonderful. When I had recovered she asked me if I would like to do the same to her, but I told her I wasn't quite ready for that yet. The truth was, I was just a bit scared of what to expect when kissing a girl down there. But she called me a spoilsport and a tease and started tickling me and making me wriggle about. She sat on top of me, almost on my chest and really gave my ribs a terrible tickling. It got me all hot and annoyed, but excited as well. She kept on advancing up my body, bit by bit. She was very strong and determined and I couldn't get her off me. Soon she was right up to my face and I could feel her fanny hair tickling my chin. She sort of teased me with it, grinding herself against me. I could smell her sexual odour as she brought herself closer and closer. I was feeling very worked up. Soon she was right over my mouth and I felt the wetness against my lips. "Come on, Emily...Do it...Like I did for you." And then my tongue was inside her swimming like a little fish. She tasted kind of savoury and sweet at the same time. It's difficult to explain, but it certainly wasn't as nasty as I thought it might be. In fact it was actually quite nice when you got used to it and I loved the way her body responded to my different lickings. Very soon she was crying out and soaking my face with her wetness. She dug her fingernails into the back of my head while she rode my face like a rocking horse. I could hardly breathe. When it was all over we kissed and cuddled and said sweet things in each other's ear. I was feeling a wonderful sense of calmness as we lay in each other's arms. It was like nothing before. Soon we were in a deep and peaceful sleep. ...to be continued... (if enough interest)