Madam Vosges' Finishing School Read online

  That night they would have pleasure, not pain.

  With dread, Virginia watched Miss Magda put two ticks under her name on the Demerits Board. How close she was to going to Miss Vosges’ Study! The thought of that agonising cane was intolerable. But it was always there. There... hovering.

  “I want a bigger mental effort from all of you girls,” Miss Magda was saying. “Virginia in particular. She seems to be falling back after having improved. Is that not so, Virginia?”

  “Mmmm... y-yes... yes... I suppose it is, Miss... mmmfff ...”

  “Well, Virginia, let me tell you I shall not have the slightest hesitation in laying the strap across your bottom every time you fail. This morning again if necessary. This afternoon, if necessary. Am I making myself clear?”

  “Y-Yes... Miss ...” whimpered Virginia. The thought of being strapped again that very morning was quite intolerable. How could she endure it? How?

  Miss Magda opened a folder.

  “Botany,” she said.

  Virginia quaked inside. She hated Botany.

  ***

  Within the hour, Virginia was presenting her reddened bottom for another taste of leather.

  “Four strokes,” said Miss Magda.

  “Oh... oohh... Miss... please... have mercy,” gasped Virginia.

  “I do not know what is the matter with you, girl,” said Miss Magda. “Your brain seems to have turned into cotton wool.”

  “Oh please, Miss... I really tried.” Virginia knew it was futile to plead, yet she did so instinctively.

  “I intend to stimulate that cotton-wool brain... through your backside!”

  TTTHHHWWWAAAACCCCCKKKKKK!

  “Yeeeeeghhhhhaaaggghhh!”

  Virginia was down on the floor, squirming and squirming, hands pressing.

  “Get up girl... AT ONCE ...or you’ll get that one again!”

  The threat was sufficient to galvanise Virginia into action. Once more her burning bottom was well presented.

  TTTHHHHWWWWAAAAACCCCKKKKKK!

  The heavy leather thong, with its three excruciating tails, cracked down again, with Miss Magda using the full force of her powerful right arm.

  “YYYYYAAAAGHHHHHHHH!”

  Virginia was down again, threshing and kicking. Her agonising torment was very evident to the whole class.

  “Virginia,” said Miss Magda coldly, “would you like me to have the manacles put on you... and start all over again?”

  “Nooooo... NOOOOOOOO!” shrieked Virginia, hauling herself up and falling back over the red bolster. Her nates were like clenching fists.

  TTTHHHHWWWWAAAAACCCCKKKKKK!

  Remorseless, relentless, Miss Magda laid on again. Once more Virginia was contorted down to the floor. She did not believe she could stand one single more stroke from the burning leather. But Miss Magda’s rasping voice got through to her.

  Up... UP... girl... or I’ll start all over again!”

  “Noooooooo... oooooooo ...” It was a long whining plea as Virginia forced herself up. Then over again. Blazing buttocks presented for yet more torment. “M-M-Merceeeeeee ...” she howled.

  TTTHHHHWWWWAAAAACCCCKKKKKK!

  The fourth stroke fell as hard as all those which had preceded it. Surprisingly, Virginia remained over the bolster, her bottom writhing and jerking with the incessant pain.

  “Hurt, did it, Virginia?”

  “Uggghh... uurrff... uggghh ...y-yugh ...esss... Miss... y-yes ...”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” stated Miss Magda. “It will help to alert you to the effort required to put into your future studies. Right?”

  “Uuuuugh... yyyyughhh... esss... oh yes... Miss ...”

  “Knickers up... and back to your desk.” The order was sharp.

  “Mmmfff... mmmfff... mmmmffff ...” sobbed Virginia as she pulled up her briefs and went tearfully back to her desk.

  “And do not think, Virginia,” continued Miss Magda, “I shall be hesitant to make you feel more leather if your effort does not improve this afternoon.”

  In fact, during the afternoon, she received three more cracking strokes from Miss Magda and, by the time the day was done, it felt to Virginia as if her bottom was placed before a roaring coal fire.

  She sobbed with infinite relief when, laying face down on her bed, Miss Bernice coated her buttocks with soothing Healing Ointment.

  ***

  “Oh you poor darling ...” Virginia was clasped in Melanie’s arms. They were together in Virginia’s bed, with Lucy on watch. “Twelve strokes... and on your birthday too.”

  “I know... I know,” whispered Virginia. “Oh that strap is really terrible.”

  Melanie stroked her buttocks very gently. “Your bottom still feels hot, darling.”

  “I know, even though I’ve had the Ointment. It will cool soon. I don’t mind anyway. Now that I’m with you.”

  “Darling ...” Melanie kissed her fervently. “Rub your sex lips on my thigh,” she whispered.

  “Yes... yes ...” Virginia proceeded to do so. It wasn’t long before she achieved a shuddering orgasm. Oh how she adored this lovely girl!

  Then it was Melanie’s turn to get her pleasure. She rubbed and rubbed, fast and furiously, but took longer to reach an orgasm than Virginia. Neither of them minded. Time was of no importance. Afterwards, they lay, breathing softly, close together.

  “Tongues?” whispered Virginia.

  “Yes... together... the soixante neuf position.”

  “Oh yes... yes ...”

  Soon the girls were inverted upon each other and tonguing lasciviously. They were lost... utterly lost... in a world of lust. Pupils in neighbouring cubicles heard their squeals of delight and became a little worried. However, Lucy was a most efficient watchdog and, as it happened Miss Bernice did not put in an appearance that evening. She had, as a matter of fact, taken the evening off with a local wealthy business man. Having had an excellent dinner, she had been solidly fucked on a lounger in his summer house whilst his wife slept peacefully in their house nearby.

  It was about one a.m. before Melanie crept away to her own bed, slaked and happy. Lying face down, Virginia slept almost instantly.

  Chapter Two

  “Nice to see you again, Mr. Lanners.”

  “Thank you Madame Vosges. It’s nice to be back.” He looked round the grim Victorian-style Study. The atmosphere pleased him. “I’m on my way to the Nunnery... but I thought I might look in here first.”

  “You’re always welcome, you know that.” Madame Vosges was looking as pleasant as ever it were possible for her to do. “I do not think your visit will be unrewarded.”

  “Ahh... is that so?” Piet Lanners’ grey-blue eyes twinkled. Madame Vosges usually managed to lay on something for him when he called in. It was the very greatest pleasure for him to watch one or another of these attractive youngsters getting a cane across her bare backside. He watched from the small room adjacent to Madame Vosges’ Study, looking through a large false mirror.

  “Yes,” nodded Madame Vosges. “It so happens that two girls in the Senior Class are just approaching the limit of their Demerits. It is most probable that they will reach the limit this morning. In fact, I would say it is certain.” Madame Vosges, when she heard Piet Lanners was on his way had had a quiet word with Miss Magda.

  Piet Lanners felt his nerves tingling. “That sounds most interesting,” he said, his voice a little thick.

  “You have already seen one of these girls punished,” said Madame Vosges.

  “Oh?”

  “Yes... she is a young dark-haired girl by the name of Melanie. She has just reached the age of nineteen.”

  “Oh yes, I remember her. Pretty little thing. You awarded her nine strokes of the Number Four cane but had to give her ten a
s she forgot to count one of them.”

  “You have a good memory, Mr. Lanners,” said Madame Vosges, consulting her PUNISHMENT RECORD. “You are quite right.”

  It’s not the sort of thing one forgets easily. A shapely young naked bottom squirming uncontrollably over the edge of the desk... legs kicking... thighs splaying. Nothing had been hidden from him as stroke succeeded stroke.

  “How many strokes will they be getting?” he asked.

  “Ten,” replied Madame Vosges. “One for each Demerit mark. However, they will now be getting the Number Two cane, since they are Seniors, and that is considerably more painful than the Number Four.”

  “I see,” mused Piet Lanners, looking highly delighted.

  “What is more,” continued Madame Vosges. “They will not be secured for their punishment. They will have to take it ‘voluntarily’ and, if they interfere or do not get back into position quickly enough, they get extras. I give them six seconds to dispose themselves.”

  It did not seem long to Piet Lanners but he recalled now that, when he had watched his niece Beatrix being caned stark naked in the Study, bending over and gripping her ankles, she had received quite a few extras for not being positioned properly.

  As if sensing his thoughts, Madame Vosges enquired: “And how is Beatrix coming along?”

  “Not too well, I’m afraid. Hasn’t settled down yet, it seems. That’s why I thought I’d go and take a look for myself.”

  “Very wise of you, Mr. Lanners.” There was a flicker over Madame Vosges’ thin lips. It might have been the beginning of a smile, but it did not fully appear. “You will have heard from the Abbess then?”

  “Yes... she sent me two Reports. It seems that Beatrix is paddled frequently... almost every day... and she has been birched several times. However ...” Piet Lanners’ voice tailed off.

  Madame Vosges tut-tutted. “I do not understand these girls,” she said. “They are sent to the Nunnery for contemplation, rehabilitation and relaxation, yet they do not seem to appreciate the value of it.”

  Since the relaxation, Piet Lanners thought, consisted of them having the arse fucked off them by the Brothers, that was scarcely surprising!

  “No,” he nodded, “girls can be quite contrary.”

  “Stubborn ...”

  “Quite so, Madame Vosges.”

  “Well, perhaps you can sort it out, Mr. Lanners.”

  “I’ll do my best ...”

  At that moment there came a knock on the door. “That should be the two girls,” said Madame Vosges. “Enter!”

  The door opened and two pale-faced young creatures entered... and they gasped at the sight of Piet sitting there. He recognised Melanie but had not seen the other girl before. She was fair-haired and a little more buxom than Melanie; perhaps a year or two older, too. The breasts of both girls were clearly outlined through the tight, semi-transparent blouses they wore. The skirts were very short, exposing long, milky-white thighs. Delicious!

  “Yes, Virginia... and Melanie? What is it?” asked Madame Vosges.

  “Demerits, Madame,” they answered together.

  Madame Vosges’ eyebrows went up. “I cannot understand you girls. Experienced as you now are, you still cannot seem to apply your minds to your work. Lack of concentration... lack of effort... I suppose.”

  Silence from both girls. Both were flushing, very conscious of Piet Lanners’ eyes beadily upon them. Surely, thought Virginia wildly, we are not going to be caned in front of him! She would do ANYTHING to avoid that! Melanie, though, after her previous experience, was aware that the man would almost certainly leave.

  “I am sorry for this interruption, Mr. Lanners... but this matter must be attended to at once.”

  “Of course,” nodded Piet gravely.

  “And,” went on Madame Vosges, “since both girls are going to have to take their knickers down for the cane, I am afraid I shall have to ask you to leave.” Both girls flushed crimson at this announcement. How utterly shaming it was!

  “That’s quite all right, Madame,” said Piet, rising. “I’ll go to the small sitting room and wait until you’ve finished.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Lanners.”

  Piet went to a door at the far side of the room and opened it. This led to a short stairway which took him into the little room behind the mirror. There was a comfortable armchair and a bottle of Bols and a glass on a table nearby. What a considerate hostess Madame Vosges was! The mirror was wide and deep and he might as well have been in the room itself. Sounds were clearly reproduced by a concealed microphone.

  Piet poured himself a stiff drink and sat down. The two girls were still standing in front of the desk and Madame Vosges was writing in her PUNISHMENT RECORD. He saw the thighs of the girl Virginia quivering slightly.

  “Very well,” said Madame Vosges at last. “You know the penalty. It is ten strokes of the cane. A Number Two cane.” Madame Vosges opened her desk drawer and tossed a cane on to the top. It looked considerably meatier than the Number Four cane, thought Piet. In fact, it was rather like the one he had seen used on Beatrix, which he understood had been a Number One and the heaviest cane of all. Both girls flinched simultaneously at the sight of the cane. Madame Vosges rose, her black taffeta dress rustling loudly. She picked up the cane and flexed it. It bent very easily and she seemed satisfied.

  “You know the Rules,” she said coldly. “You count the strokes and, if you lose your position, you have six seconds to get back into it. If you forget to count, or do not get back into position in time, you get that stroke again. If there is any attempted interference by hand or arm, you will receive two extra strokes. Is that all quite clear?”

  “Y-Yes... M-Madame ...” The two girlish voices were a mere whisper.

  “Right,” said Madame Vosges, “I’ll have you over here, Melanie ...” She tapped the right hand side of her desk. “And you at the other end of the desk, Virginia. Pull up your skirts and bend over. Both of you.” It was only then that the girls realised they were going to be caned simultaneously. This was a new experience for both of them.

  Up in his little room, Piet unzipped. He was already well on the way to an erection but he knew it would be silly to start wanking too soon. If he did, it could well be all over before the canings were finished. He let his penis stiffen fully but did not touch. He took another slug of Bols.

  Piet’s pulse beat faster as each girl pulled up her skirt to display a pretty little pair of tight red briefs. The girl Virginia, he saw, had a superb bottom, rather more fulsome than that of Melanie whose buttocks were nice and tightly rounded. It was certainly going to be a great treat to watch two such young beauties getting it at the same time. He watched them bend over the desk, which enhanced the curves; then saw Madame Vosges button the hem of each skirt to the blouse collar. The magic moment was coming. Piet took hold of his swollen prick. He simply couldn’t help it.

  “Knickers down,” ordered Madame Vosges.

  With the most minimum of delay, the order was obeyed.

  Two delightful bare bottoms were being displayed to Piet... and, of course, the delicious pink, split fig of sexual delight in the cleft. Piet’s hand began to move gently. Melanie was to get it first, he saw. Madame Vosges was tapping her bottom lightly, making it quiver all over. He could hear the girl gasping and whimpering with dread.

  With a rustle of taffeta, the cane went up high, then came whiplashing down to bite into the tops of Melanie’s buttocks. She jerked up instantly, gasping out loudly, clasping her hands to the twin-tracked weal just raised.

  “One ...” called out Melanie in a high-pitched voice.

  Then Piet heard Madame Vosges counting. “... two... three... four ...” At the count of “Four” Melanie’s hands left her bottom and reached out to grip the front edge of the desk again. Under normal circumstances, Melanie would ha
ve got her second stroke but, as it was, she was to get a reprieve. It was Virginia’s turn.

  Rustle... rustle... rustle... and Madame Vosges had reached the other end of the desk. Piet wanking faster, saw Virginia’s lush nates contract convulsively.

  Sssswwweeee ...cccrrrraaacccckkkk!

  “Aiiieee... a-aaahhh... one... ahh... one ...” cried Virginia, squirming in torment yet somehow managing to hang on to the front edge of the desk. The first stroke often seemed the worst. One had been anticipating it for so long.

  Unhurriedly, Madame Vosges walked back to Melanie’s end and measured the flinching buttocks.

  Sssswwweeee... cccrrrraaacccckkkk!

  The second stroke fell about half an inch below the first. Once more Melanie’s hands clamped frantically to her bottom as she twisted and turned in torment, dark head thrown back, gasping out in pain.

  “Ahhhh... ooowwww... ooowwww... t-two... oooo.”

  “One... two... three ...” Madame Vosges was counting again. On the count of “Three” Melanie’s hands came away. Another vivid weal now laced over both buttock cheeks.

  My God, thought Piet, there’s nothing quite like watching a young girl getting a damned good hiding. His hand began to move faster and he had to slow it. So many more strokes yet to come.

  Madame Vosges had rustled back to Virginia, whose bottom was twisting slightly to one side in dreaded anticipation.

  “Keep your bottom square, girl!” snapped Madame Vosges. “And stick it up higher.” Amazingly, it seemed to Piet, the girl obeyed both commands. It must be a matter of experience, he supposed. Or dread of worse punishment.

  Sssswwweeee... cccrrrraaacccckkkk!

  Virginia writhed frenziedly as the willow bit but, with remarkable fortitude, again managed to retain her grip on the desk edge. She’s got guts, thought Piet. Also, she’s a lovely looking ripe young pussy. If she gets sent to the Nunnery, I’ll probably have an opportunity of fucking her. And the other one. That young Melanie. Piet found himself losing control again and was forced to stop wanking.