Date: Tue, 17 Jun 2008 23:13:02 +0200 (CEST)
From: Teresa Yam <trevor@maytum.fsnet.co.uk>
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)