NIS Punishment Programme: New Laws

Synopsis

The ruling military Junta changed the laws to give males back their superiority and introduced corporal punishment to curb crime. The changes have their effect on school life.

Naked In School Punishment Programme:

1 New Laws

by obohobo

Warnings

Please take note!

The text in this story contains erotic material and is expressly written for adults only.

MF NC. Spanking

If you are underage or offended by such material, or if viewing this file is illegal in your locality, then leave, close or delete this file-story now.

This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living, dead or otherwise is purely coincidental. The ideas and thoughts that follow are pure fantasies.  In real life, at the very least they would be unpleasant and probably illegal. Fantasies are like that; daydreams where we can contemplate and imagine the sensations without suffering or inflicting the pain, despair or humiliation.

© obohobo 2009

Monday August 31st 2026

Before starting the diary for this term, future readers should be aware of the background to the events that follow.

First a few personal details. I’m Laura Matthews, 16 years old (just) 1.6 metres tall, dark haired with it trimmed to shoulder length, 84 cm B cup tits on a moderately slim figure. Not a glamour girl but most boys find my figure more than acceptable. With about 500 other pupils I attend Morsham High School and am starting my second year there and expect to stay for another two until I am eligible to leave when I’m 18.

At the pre-school meeting today, the headmaster warned of the effect the forthcoming legislation would have on us from the beginning of the term, legislation being brought in by the military junta that has ruled England for the past three months. Fortunately it was a bloodless coup and for the first few weeks little changed except for the removal from office of all the leading female politicians, as were all females in the judiciary and top executives in major corporations. They of course, made a great fuss but all their efforts to rescind their dismissal, failed. Gradually over the years, these powerful women increased women’s rights to such an extent that men were under our thumbs and we could flirt and tease them, but if they tried to fuck us without our express consent, they risked imprisonment for rape. Brigadier Scott and his officers stopped all that but at a lower level, girls still kept control over what the men could or could not do with them, and many boyfriends went home at night dissatisfied. I was as bad as the rest and only took a boy to my bed when I wanted and not because he’d spent the evening with me. I enjoyed sex so my boyfriends weren’t as poorly done by as some but that would change because, from September 1st, under the new laws a woman in a relationship with a boy, and that included temporary relationships, had to be willing to have sex with him. From the comms debates and the newscasts, a temporary relationship could be as short as spending one hour together.

The old naked in school programmes of a few years ago, ran their course until nudity became so commonplace the need for forced nakedness no longer existed, and a retro movement started that brought back school uniforms. “You look just like I did when I went to school in the 1990’s,” Gran commented when she saw me in a white blouse, pleated skirt and blue striped tie. We still saw plenty of naked flesh though. Physical training classes and swimming lessons were all co-ed and done without clothing unless there were medical reasons for it, and in decent weather, most would sunbathe naked in the park or on the beach. The changing rooms, toilets and showers were now all unisex and we frequently washed each other while us girls flirted and teased the boys. Even the staff used them at the same time and we would gawk at the massive pricks two of the P.E. staff sported, especially when, with all the nubile girls around, they couldn’t help getting an erection.

Sex wasn’t a major thing either. In general it wasn’t permitted in public places or during work or school time but otherwise everyone was pretty relaxed and most girls, once their tits had sprouted, took boy or man to their bed with the blessing of their parents. Always the girl had the prerogative to invite a boy to her bed or to have sex with her and the boys were hesitant to make the first move to avoid being arrested for sexual harassment. Not being one of the richer families, our apartment is fairly small and I share a bedroom with my older sister and frequently we both have boyfriends in there with us.

So the being naked in school part of the legislation wasn’t a great worry but this time nakedness was only one aspect of a punishment regime. Mr. Burken our headmaster and avid supporter of the Junta, put it from his point of view and by the sound of things, he intended to enjoy his new-found authority to the full. “Schools and parents are again being allowed to use corporal punishment to correct the misbehaviour of children. Punishments can range from hand spanking, to the use of an imitation leather strap and to the use of the cane for serious offences. All schools have received a supply of the straps sufficient for all the teachers, ancillaries and the caretakers to have one each, and you’ve no doubt seen them for sale at knock down prices for your parents to purchase. All staff, including our cleaners and ancillaries, are allowed to hand spank and use the strap and the punishment will always be given on the bare flesh and normally in front of your classmates.” We knew all about it from the many newscasts on the comms units, “The cane is reserved for my use and that of my deputy Mrs. Tomkins, and these are the only punishments that are recorded on your comms personal information file. By the liberal use of these instruments, we hope to raise your standard of attainment and bring this school into line with the more affluent ones on the other side of town. If you misbehave or do not work to the standard your teacher thinks you are capable, expect to go home with a sore rear at least.” I looked with apprehension at the supple, mass-produced, leather-like plastic strap he waved around and then smacked loudly on the table. With my low grades and lack of interest, I knew my chances of being on the receiving end of it, were pretty high, almost a forgone conclusion. Worse followed.

“Like many other schools in the area, we will combine the punishments with what used to be known as the naked in school programme and we now term the Naked Punishment Programme. Any student warranting more than two punishments in any one day, will remain naked for that and the following day so that all may view the effectiveness of the punishments and the student’s shame. Your parents will be informed and they may wish you to continue your punishment at home. In any case, if you are a student given a longer term punishment or mentoring, you will be naked at all times, in school and out, when the temperature is above 20 degrees Celsius.” Again, I knew I was a prime candidate and I could expect extra punishment from either or both of my parents. They’d already threatened me with the strap if my attitude to them didn’t improve and Dad especially was keen to see the law in place. Until the following day, if he hit me I could sue him for assault.

“We plan to introduce the mentor system you may have heard about, whereby any student whose work is below standard, will be tutored by a member of the opposite sex who has suitable qualifications. In return the student will live with the mentor 24/7 and take care of his or her needs. Mentors, mainly boys in the A stream of your year, will be issued with a strap and instructed to use it at any time the student fails behaviour-wise or work-wise and in addition to any punishment, will refresh the student’s memory by giving ten strokes before bed.” My heart sank even lower.

“Lastly, I’m sure you’ve all seen and heard the fuss the women’s groups made over the legislation to re-introduce ‘old fashioned values’ to the country, values where the woman is seen to be the housewife and the man is the dominant breadwinner and fully dominant in his bearing to the opposite sex. With jobs in industry now limited, it will be his place to earn enough to keep his woman and she in return, will keep house, cook his meals and service all his sexual needs whatever form they take. Only those women with special qualifications will be allowed to work after marriage or being in a stable relationship.” During the newscast debates a great deal of emphasis was placed on what demands a man could make of his woman and it seemed that whatever he wanted, he could have, provided she didn’t need medical treatment afterwards. Refusal meant physical punishment either by the man or, if the woman refused that, at the newly built whipping halls. He smirked at the girls looking downcast in the hall. “Despite the furore, the legislation became law and will apply equally to life here. Girls will take second place in the pecking order and any girl using her sex to wheedle favours from a boy, or refusing to accommodate him, will be punished.” Turning to the staff sitting behind him on the platform, he said, “That applies to the female teachers too, including punishments for mistakes and insubordination to male staff. You will also be subjected to the Naked Punishment Programme.” From the shock on their faces we knew they’d not been informed of that in advance.

“In the last few days, I have reviewed last term’s performance of several students and three of them will start on the punishment and mentoring programme immediately school resumes tomorrow.” My stomach turned over at his words. I just know there’s a 99% chance, one of them is me. “Please read the brochure that will be passed around before you leave and remember to be at school before 9 a.m. Lateness is a strapping offense and truancy, a severe dose of the cane. I look forward to seeing you all here in the morning ready and eager to do the best you can for yourselves and for the school.”

“Has the school contacted you Dad?” I asked when we’d finished dinner.

“Yes, Laura, the Headmaster did and while he didn’t need my permission, I encouraged him to go ahead and deal with you as he thought best and said that he would be the second one on the list to punish you. Now help your mother with the dishes.”

I tried to plead with him but he signalled me to leave. Mother put her arm around me. “You’re not the only one your father’s going to punish as soon midnight arrives. I’ll probably get up with a sore bum in the morning and your sister will too. As your mother, I can spank you but he is allowed to spank all of us girls. Now dry the dishes while I wash them.” We knew he’d threatened to get his own back on us for our sassy behaviour but he hadn’t overly stressed the point and I for one, assumed things wouldn’t change too much. He must have said more to mother and we all found out a few hours later, just how great the change would be.

Midnight

I wonder how many other girls and mothers woke up with sore arses this morning? The transition from August 31st to September 1st mimicked the celebrations at New Year, with countywide festivities by the men believing they were being freed from the yoke of servitude to women. A government announcement earlier suggested men should take their women in hand as soon as possible after midnight and show them the error of their past ways by soundly chastising them. Dad certainly took the message to heart. I’d barely managed to get to sleep after worrying about school the next day, when the fireworks and cheering from crowds in the street outside, woke me. Sarah and her boyfriend woke too and almost before the chimes on the comms finished, Dad ordered us into his bedroom. “I’m going to punish all three of you for your past behaviour to me,” Dad started, “When I’ve done and I consider your arses are sore enough, I will deem your past behaviour to have been dealt with and any punishments you get will be for things you do from now on. Tonight’s will only be a token spanking considering the way you’ve treated me over the last few years; 25 with the leather strap should be sufficient to start with and I can add more if necessary. Your days of disobedience and rudeness are over and now it is my turn to call the shots and I look forward to doing so.” He smiled and showed us the new shiny and well-oiled strop he bought earlier. They called them leather but with a shortage of the real stuff, they designed a plastic of similar quality and produced them on automatic machines in vast quantities. “Wife, lie over the side of the bed. Boy,” he addressed Sarah’s 19-year-old boyfriend Bob, “Sit on her shoulders and keep her arms out of the way.” From the size of him, she wouldn’t move far. I noticed both he and Dad were fully erect and were obviously excited at the prospect of seeing us thrashed. With great reluctance, she bent herself over the bed and proffered her arse to the dreaded strap. We’d been warned many times that any refusal could lead a fixed penalty of 50 lashes in the whipping hall and public nakedness for at least a week afterwards regardless of the weather.

WHAP!...WHAP!... WHAP!... WHAP!... WHAP!... WHAP!... WHAP!... WHAP!... Dad flayed Mum’s arse hard and with a steady rhythm, each one accompanied by a yell from her although considerably muffled by her face being pressed into the bedclothes. About halfway through, she began begging him to stop but he ignored her pleas and carried on as if she was a lifeless sack and not his wife of nearly twenty years. I cried as I watched her white flesh turn a lived red and prayed he wouldn’t hit us girls as hard. Bob though, enjoyed her writhing and before long, pre-cum leaked from his prick and dribbled down on mother’s back. It seemed ages before the strapping finished but in reality it lasted only a few minutes before we all had to feel the heat from her bum, while Dad gleefully told us ours would be just a hot in a short while. I knew my prayers for leniency would not be answered.

Mother stood shakily and wept loudly when Bob climbed off her back. Sarah pleaded and begged and had to be forced to bend over the bed but she didn’t have a chance against the combined strengths of Bob and Daddy. WHAP!...WHAP!... WHAP!... WHAP!... WHAP!... WHAP!... WHAP!... WHAP!... Dad didn’t spare her and I knew for sure that I wouldn’t be spared either especially as he seemed to favour Sarah more than me. Like mother she screamed and yelled but it made no difference. I wept bitterly, knowing my arse would receive similar treatment and fleetingly considered running from the room, but I knew that would only result in a visit to the whipping hall. To my surprise at the end of the 25 strokes, he handed the strap to Bob. “Give her another five Boy for refusing to bend over without being forced.”

From his position sitting on Sarah’s back he applied the strap lengthways along her body so they crossed the welts Daddy made and two strokes even went into her crack. He might not have hit as hard as Daddy but she sure felt them. Her ordeal wasn’t over. “Looks like that prick of yours needs servicing boy. Why don’t you use it while she is bent over?” Of course he did regardless of the extra pain he caused his girlfriend and I wondered if she would dump him after this but when we returned to the bedroom away from having to impress daddy, he showed her more affection and comforted her while they cuddled and kissed.

“Your turn Laura.” My plea for mercy was cut short with a curt, “Bend over the bed,” and from Sarah’s experience I knew better than refuse. “Sit on her Mary.” Mother not wishing to sit on anything at that moment, gingerly lowered her arse on to my back and I felt the heat radiating from it but I had little time to contemplate that before the first WHAP made itself felt and the tremendous burning pain jolted through my body. Like the others, I yelled and screamed but he steadfastly lambasted my tender arse. It swelled, the skin grew tight and I knew it glowed a fiery red as the pain increased until I didn’t believe I could take any more. My numb mind hadn’t counted the strokes and it was a relief when the punishment suddenly ceased and could stand and gingerly rub my nates.

“Get back over the bed Mary, no don’t run away Laura.” Dad, now in full dominant mode, gave us orders like a military officer. Mum expecting another thrashing begged him not to hurt her any more but his next instruction to me made it clear that wasn’t his intention. “Pull her cheeks apart Laura, I need a good fuck after this and I’m going to do it in the hole you’ve always refused to let me enter Mary but now daren’t, not unless you wish to visit the whipping hall. For the past few years, I’ve almost had to beg to get my prick into you at all, now I can have you anytime I wish and in any hole. Get used to it wife and in future, you will service me how and when I want. Get used to being a proper wife. Open her up for me Laura.”

Tears from my eyes ran down the crack in her arse and possibly provided some lubrication for his entry but even so, mother screamed with the pain as he forced open her brown hole. Daddy didn’t care. His pent up frustration and anger at his treatment over the years came to a head as he thrust in hard. Mother squirmed and screamed but impaled on his prick, she could do little about it. The rest of us watched, us girls in horror, Bob with some glee. I’d tried it there once but when I found it painful, refused to allow any boy to try it again. From today, I wouldn’t have that option. Fortunately for mother, Dad’s arousal was such that he spent quickly and withdrew and then to mother’s disgust, he offered his messy prick for her to suck, something she would rarely do if it was clean.

Finally, at 1:15 a.m. Dad hugged and kissed me and said he hoped that I would be a good girl in future and I returned to my bed but sleep didn’t come quickly, the pain in my arse saw to that. At least Sarah had Bob to comfort her and I wondered if daddy was comforting mother or tormenting her further in an effort to get his own back for years of being under her thumb. Maybe she would leave him, but if she did, where would she go? Without an income, she would need a decent job and they were difficult for married women to get, or the support of another man and I hadn’t heard that she was seeing anyone. I wondered how long before Dad fucked me that way and if I would be treated as his whore too.

Bob left early to go to college so only a sombre trio of girls sat at the breakfast table with father, our faces still red from crying. We’d wanted to stand and eat but father insisted we get used to sitting as we’d have to sit at school. At least he appeared a little more caring than he’d done a few hours previously. “Remember girls, the punishment you had was for your behaviour in the past, any punishment now will be for things that you do, or don’t do, from now on. And from now on, my welfare and the welfare of every other male is paramount and with the incest laws repealed I shall certainly order you to take care of me in the same way as your mother. You obey me or suffer the consequences. Now make sure you have everything you need for school and get there well before the bell.” He gave Sarah and me a hug and a kiss and told us to be good and to me added, “Try and remember that whatever happens today, is ultimately for your own good, however bad it may seem at the time.” I knew for certain I was one of those selected for the programme and he supported it.

Tuesday September 1st, Morning

I wasn’t the only girl with sitting difficulties in my form room, three others winced as they sat on the plastic seats and Mr. Gregory our form teacher gave a little smile. Later I found out that several more had hand spankings but could sit reasonably well on their tender rear ends. Registration over, we marched to assembly to find things were slightly different there too. All the female staff sat at the back of the stage behind the men, whereas usually they sat at the front, and a construction of poles had been erected on one side. I hardly noticed either.

Mr. Burken repeated some of the points from yesterday’s speech and at the end went on, “Will Laura Matthews, Mitzi Colbourne and Gareth Fenton come up on to the stage please?” His order further confirmed my suspicions that I’d been selected for the programme.

“No! Please! I’ll work harder…” Two male teachers jumped to the hall and assisted me to the stage and, after the strapping at home, I knew better than to resist. Mitzi didn’t. All her life she’s thought herself well above everyone in this school because of her rich and influential father and her long, bottle-blonde hair and well-manicured body, meant she could pick and chose which boy or girl she wished to associate with. Now they were reducing her to our level. She swore and kicked as they forcibly dragged and half carried her on to the stage. Gareth walked meekly without being held. Strange boy, almost feminine in appearance, and comes from an all male household who treat him like a woman and with no taboo on homosexuality, even within a family, this wasn’t a surprise. However, rumours said that his family, five brothers and his father, kept him so occupied during the evenings and weekends that he never completed his homework. I assumed that was the reason for him being on stage although at the time, I was too worried about what would happen to me to be concerned with him.

“Undress,” the headmaster ordered. I did and so did Gareth who actually folded his clothes neatly. Mitzi stupidly continued protesting and two teachers tore her clothing off as she struggled with them. In the end she stood as naked as Gareth and I. “Put the cuffs and collars on.” I didn’t expect that. Mr. Gregory opened a box and produced soft plastic cuffs that fitted nicely around our wrists and ankles with clips for linking them together, but would need a special tool to remove. A similar plastic collar fitted around our necks and made me feel like an old time slave and brought with it the realisation that my punishment was extremely serious and would be ongoing. The bright blue cuffs and collar are my school uniform for the foreseeable future.

On my arrival in the hall, I’d vaguely noticed the scaffolding erected on the stage but didn’t take in its purpose. Now it became abundantly clear. “We’ll deal with you first, Laura Matthews. Fasten her to the scaffolding.”

“Please Sir, I’ve already had 25 with the strap from Daddy, please don’t give me any more,” I begged and shed tears but that didn’t impress Mr. Burken,

“We can all see that you father has made a good start in correcting you but I’ve no doubt that was for misdemeanours at home, the 25 I’m going to apply, is to punish you for your lack of effort and poor behaviour last term, indeed for several years previously. Had the new law been in place earlier you would have received many more than 25 but if you wish to up the total, please continue to protest.” Once again my earlier experience told me to hold my tongue and to allow them to fasten me, spread-eagled between two upright poles. The whole school could clearly see my bruised arse and my cunt. Maybe it was the shock of the scene before them but for once, the hall was quiet and provided an ideal opportunity for the head to warn the rest of the students. “Let these punishments be an example and a warning to all of you. Step out of line, boy or girl and you will feel the strap and if your work slips like this trio’s, you too will be given a thrashing and awarded to a mentor for training and a continuation of your punishment. I shall revue the files of several students in other years during the next few days.”

During the head’s little speech, I looked round and saw Mitzi, gagged and her wrist cuffs fastened behind her back, being displayed full frontally to the rest of the school. Normally, she paraded around the pool and willingly showed her over-large tits, but not today, Mr. Gregory held her from behind and squeezed and mauled them in an obscene way. 

WHAP! WHAP! The first two strokes came fast and very hard. I screamed at the top of my voice and in the short space between my yells, I heard crying from girls in the audience. The intensity of the pain of those two strokes on top of my earlier hiding, proved so great that I almost blacked out. Mr. Burken must have realised that too, because the remainder were not as severe but they still hurt like hell and I wondered if I would ever be able to sit again and if the skin of my arse would burst. It didn’t.

My quaking legs and badly bruised buttock muscles wouldn’t support me when the cuffs were released and two teachers helped me from the frame and made me lie across the headmaster’s table to display my arse to the students. I heard more crying from them now as well as unintelligible comments but a sharp order from the head curbed most of them.

“No! No! You can’t do that to me! No one ever hits me,” Mitzi screamed and then swore as they dragged her to the frame and I supposed they removed her gag soon after I’d been taken down. I caught a glimpse of her lily-white arse as she passed the end of the table and knew it wouldn’t remain that colour for long but I was past caring; I had my own pain to deal with, pain that outweighed the humiliation of having my battered arse and cunt on full display to everyone in the hall. My tears pooled on the table but no one worried about the mess.

As if in a far distance I heard the head pronounce sentence, “Mitzi Colbourne, for your past behaviour you will receive 25 strokes of the strap and for your continued fighting and swearing on this stage a further 25 will be added, ten of them on your front.” A gasp went up from the audience at the severity of the punishment but Mr. Burken was judge, jury and executioner. In this school, no one could dispute his new authority and today he exercised it to the full. He may have disliked me personally and my attitude towards school, but he hated Mitzi partly because of her behaviour and partly because her father nearly thwarted him when he applied for the headmaster position.

Even my pain couldn’t blot out the screaming from Mitzi as the leather lashed her back and buttocks. From my position, I couldn’t see her but my body relived every hit and I winced and shuddered with each WHAP, a sound I quickly learned to fear. After what seemed an eternity, the sound of leather on flesh ceased and Mitzi started to plead in a hoarse voice for him not to hit her tits but, of course, for the sadistic headmaster, that only added to his enjoyment. Mr. Gregory must have thought I needed to see it happen because he turned my head and moved my body around the table so I could see and possibly anticipate it happening to me at some future time.

Mitzi hung from her cuffs almost without the strength to hold herself upright. Mentally I knew she was near to exhaustion but she still had to receive ten lashes. WHAP! The first one flattened both tits. She uttered a surprisingly small cry and I guessed it wouldn’t be long before she passed out. Her tormentor realised it too and laid the final nine on in quick succession. Minutes later, they placed her alongside me and feebly she tried resting her elbows on the table to lift her tits off the wood and I had to put up with her moaning and crying in my ear but could do nothing to help her, in any case I had my own sore arse to worry about. 

“Gareth Fenton, you are in this programme partly because you did little of the work set last year and partly because we know it was family commitments that didn’t allow you any time for it. Nevertheless you will receive 25 strokes and be under the tutelage of a female who, as your teacher, you will have to serve fully and as you’ll be away from your siblings and father, we expect to see a vast improvement in your work. Please come to the frame.” Gareth walked meekly to the scaffold and held his hands up ready for fastening the cuffs. I still had a view of the frame and noticed his body had suffered from beatings over the holiday period, beatings from a rod or whip, beatings that were illegal at that time. Although he winced and groaned at the first five strokes he didn’t yell or scream. Even at the end, when the head hit him really hard, he yelled and cried but without the ear-splitting intensity that we’d done. He earned our respect especially when he walked unaided, unsteadily it is true, from the frame to the table and lay alongside me. I noticed his partially erect, long thin prick and wondered if similar punishments at home aroused him but didn’t have time to ponder the point before the head went on.

“John Deighton, Michael French and Michelle Barker will you please come to the stage please?” I knew them by name but they were all A stream pupils, two streams above my bottom of the range C. Rightly I guessed they were our mentors and I hoped John would be mine. Whenever I’d met him, the tall lad seemed quiet and shy whereas Michael was a known bully.

“You were asked earlier if you would undertake the mentoring of these three pupils and you agreed then and comms calls to your parents brought their agreement too. Do you still agree to do this valuable and onerous task?” They did. “Take your charges to the showers and bring them to my office in thirty minutes please.”

Michelle took Gareth’s hand and led him off the stage, Mike grabbed Mitzi and to my delight, if being the least evil option could be said to be a delight, John helped me up and out of the hall.

John, a very tall, gawky lad, had a good-sized prick, which I noticed when he carefully washed me and started to get an erection. He and Michelle, a dumpy dark haired girl both treated their charges with some tenderness, Mike, on the other hand, seemed more interested in Mitzi as a sex object and fingered her cunt and tits causing her further pain. Mike kept up a continuous stream of comments on Mitzi’s body and what he intended to do with her; John and Michelle were almost silent.

Mr. Burken went over the rules with us in his office.

“Punishment Programme Students will remain naked at all times (apart from cuffs, collar and shoes) except when the temperature falls below 200 C.

Except in exceptional circumstances, Punishment Programme Students will remain with their mentors at all times or not more than 50 metres away. In general that means you can be in neighbouring rooms or one in the garden while the other is in the house. At all times, the mentor must know where their student is. In school, they will attend the same classes as the mentor but may be set a lower standard of work.

Punishment Programme Students will treat their mentors with respect and service and satisfy their body and sexual desires. That means you will be in the same position as a wife is to her husband now. Gareth, in your case, you are the wife. Michelle has authority over you but must be subservient to her parents, particularly to her father and any other males. Rather like the female teachers are here.

Punishment Programme Students will receive 10 strokes of the strap on any part of their body the first night before bedtime. The punishment to be witnessed and signed for in their personal comms file. Thereafter the spanking can be either by hand or with the strap at the discretion of the mentor and the number of strokes may be gradually reduced after the first week if sufficient improvement in the standard of their work is made, but the number of strokes must never fall below 4.”

“Seeing the severity of the punishment they’ve had already, does that include tonight Sir?” John asked.

“Of course, but it can be on any part of the body except the face and doesn’t have to be on top of previous strappings. You are also obligated to punish your student for any misconduct, large or small, by hand spanking or with the strap. I gave you guidelines on this when we spoke earlier.

In return, mentors must undertake to bring the Punishment Programme Student’s work up to a much higher standard than it is at present and bring her/his attitude to others, particularly to those with higher status, to an acceptable level. That means you will have to set aside time during the evenings or at weekends, to help the student with their work. You are to help them but not do it for them.

I think that is all I need to say at this stage but if there are any problems, come and see me. In any case I will monitor the situation closely.”

Perhaps unwisely, I put my hand up to ask a question. “How long will we remain as Punishment Programme Students, Sir?”

“Until the standard of your work and your attitude is such that the mentor is unnecessary. If however, you make no progress at all, you will be removed from that mentor’s care, punished and given to another.”

We barely had time for me to collect my bag and clothes from the hall and put my shoes on before the next lesson. Fortunately on this first day, most of the lessons were management, making timetables and outlining the programme for the term. I had to steel myself to sit still even though my arse pained me. Mike spanked the inside of Mitzi’s thighs several times because she fidgeted. Gareth sat quietly and attentively alongside Michelle.

In the cafeteria at lunchtime, Michelle and Gareth sat with us but only Kate of my erstwhile friends came and spoke to us and offered me a tube of cream. “I thought they might sell out in a hurry so I bought a couple on the way to school in case I got into trouble. Dad showed mum and me the strap he bought but he didn’t use it on either of us. Will you let her use the cream John?” she added as an afterthought. We went to the shower room and he gently massaged it into my welts for me and Michelle did Gareth. Both boys got a hard-on but John kept his hidden. Gareth didn’t have that option and Michelle stroked it a few times until he was fully hard. Again we noticed how long and thin it was but when asked he said that his brothers and father tied weights on it when he was very young. “I’ve had fatter pricks in me but never one that length,” Michelle remarked, “I’ll certainly know what it feels like before I go to bed tonight.” I wondered what it would feel like too.

Tuesday September 1st, afternoon and evening

John introduced me to his mother, Peggy, who gave me a hug and, after she’d asked John’s permission, insisted I take a couple of painkillers. The pain had eased a little but the walk to his home aggravated it again. From the comms call earlier, she knew of the situation but looked shocked when she saw the actual state of my arse and I could see why when a few minutes later I saw myself in a full-length mirror in John’s bedroom. I expected to be fucked there and then but John delayed it saying, “We’ll go and collect your things from your home first and by then Dad will be home and dinner should be ready and afterwards we can do as we please. Fortunately there’s no homework to do.”

Mum only wore an apron when we entered. Dad ordered it after learning of my situation and she would only wear it whilst cooking. Her arse bruises were colourful even though they hadn’t been added to, but she smiled and greeted John when I’d introduced him and commented, “You will have your his hands full and will need to use the strap frequently if you are to maintain any control over her.”

“I’ll do what is necessary but as you can see she’s had more than enough for the time being and she’s to have another ten before bedtime.” Mother inspected my arse and then asked John if he would like to stay for dinner. He declined so I could pack my things and have dinner with his family.

“Ask Bob if he will send Sarah down when he’s finished please,” Mum requested. I guessed her boyfriend controlled her now.

Bob had her bent over the bed and was fucking her arse like dad did mother last night. He must have got the idea from them but it looked as if he’d used some lubricant and, apart from when his loins hit her tender backside, she didn’t appear to be in too much pain. “Have you done it that way?” John asked.

“Only once with a young boy and when I found it hurt, I didn’t do it again. Are you thinking of doing it to me?”

“Not for a day or two,” he laughed, “I want to enjoy your other holes first.” It was the first real indication that he was interested in fucking me. He got erections earlier but had not mentioned sex in any form. I wondered if he was a secret pervert but knew I would find out soon enough.

“Try not to be late again son. As you know under the new laws I can warm your arse and that of your lady friend for being tardy to meals.” Frightened, I looked up at the tall, lanky man when he rose from his chair to greet me. A huge smile spread over his face and I discovered he was joking.

“Sorry Dad, it took us longer to pack her things than I expected. Dad, this is Laura Matthews, Laura this is my father, Alfred Deighton usually called ‘Shorty’ for obvious reasons.”

“At over 2 metres, there are few that are not shorter than me and John is catching me up fast.” Immediately I liked this jovial man who lifted me off the floor to give me a kiss and when I winced as he sat me on the floor again, he turned me round and expressed his disgust at the severity of my punishment. “There are some good points in the new law but there’s also some bad ones. Maybe after a year or two, things will sort themselves out. Now dump your stuff upstairs and get yourself into the dining room before dinner gets burnt.”

Despite not being able to sit in comfort, I’d not had such a pleasant meal-time for as long as I could remember. At home, mother always bitched at Dad about her day and what he needed to do and what he shouldn’t have done. Sarah and I squabbled over petty things like dress or boyfriends or make-up or just about anything and then sided with mother in any argument against Dad. At the Deighton’s the conversation was lively and friendly and at that first meal, largely concerned with my welfare. That surprised me as I thought I would only be there as John’s whore, an outcast from mainstream society with a modicum of attention being paid to my education. They even found a soft cushion for me to sit on and Alf grinned and remarked how nice it was to have a woman showing her tits in front of him while he ate. “Are you expecting me to follow suit?” Peggy asked semi-seriously.

“As long as they don’t dip into the soup!” Peggy threw a mock punch at him and Alf laughingly called us to witness her threatened violence and said he’d deal with her bottom later. We all knew he joked and any spanking would be for sexual stimulation.

Soon though, John took me to his room and he still seemed uncertain about having sex with me. We stored my clothes, although I didn’t know when I would wear them again but John said they would be needed when the weather turned colder. From his remark I surmised that I would be with him during the winter, much longer than I had first thought. Finally when everything was stored and we stood by his bed, he hesitantly blurted out, “Laura… can we do it?” He was asking my permission to fuck me. Yesterday I would have told him to go and fuck himself but now I had no choice. His manner and the friendliness of his family kept the anger of my situation under control, and in any case, I’d expected to be ordered to lie down and open my legs and truth to tell, I was looking forward to it. The painkillers were easing the burning in my arse and sitting and walking with nothing covering my cunt had already aroused me. I looked expectantly to feeling the prick I’d seen several times during the day and which now tented his trousers. My surprise must have shown because he went on, “Yes, I know I can order you but it seems strange after all the years when girls had the ultimate say on whether they would allow a boy to fuck them. Too many times after wooing them and trying to say the right things, my feelings would be snubbed and I’d have to go home and wank myself off so, for the last year or more, I haven’t bothered to try. Michelle and I have done it a few times when we’d finished our homework together here but always she had the right to say yea or nay and I had to wait until she suggested it. I’ll get used to being in charge soon I suppose.” It didn’t take him long.

His confession left me a little bewildered but I decided to boost his ego particularly after the way he and his family treated me. It wasn’t his fault I got thrashed. “You can do anything you wish to do Master, I’m here to satisfy your desires.”

His face lit up and with a broad smile he answered, “No need for the Master thing, just call me John as always and we’ll get along fine. Now help me undress and then get your lovely lips around my prick.” Soon his weapon stood out rock hard, longer and thicker than I anticipated even after seeing it in the shower and I wondered how much it would hurt if he forced it into my already sore bum. Dad’s wasn’t as big and Mum cried with the pain of his entry. But that was something for the future. Now he gently laid me on the bed and opened my legs. I felt the pain of my taut buttock muscles and then the pleasure of my cunt being nicely stretched. He must have wanted to make the sensation last because he took his time and fucked slowly and paused several times to nibble my tits until I’d orgasmed lightly several times and was screaming for the final climax. I knew he was close when he pulled almost all the way out and then thrust in deeply and hard and held his prick there while it pulsated his sperm into my womb. No fear of pregnancy though. One of the good things about the previous government was the compulsory contraceptive injection given to all girls under the age of 21 unless they had been in a stable union for at least a year.

“Will you…? No, I don’t have to ask but tell me if you are nauseated by it, suck me clean Laura.” I’d done that many times so it wasn’t a problem and nor was it when he returned the favour and spent a long time tonguing my slit.

For a while we lay side-by-side and cuddled and I wondered if my good fortune would last. The bubble burst when he started to discus my schoolwork and how I might improve and more practically, we set up a comms unit screen so I could access the school information network. This certainly brought me down to earth and even more so when he said it was time for bed and I knew he referred to the dreaded ten lashes with the strap. “Sorry Laura, I have to do this or they will take you away from me and you’ll get double from the headmaster. When your work improves I won’t need to do this every night I can get away with hand spanking you. Lay on your front and I’ll do it across your back so I don’t blister your arse any more.” He called his father as witness and Peggy came too.

WHAP! That dreadful, painful sound as the first stroke brought a line of fire across my shoulders. I cried out but held on to the bed’s headrail. It hurt badly but I knew it was nowhere near as hard as the head would have hit. Whap! “You okay with that Dad? I don’t want to be accused of being too lenient and yet I don’t want to cause her unnecessary pain.”

“Yes, that should do fine John. She’ll still have stripes across her back in the morning so you will be seen to have done your job.”  I cried but didn’t scream as he walloped my back. I knew with these strange new laws, he had to do it and that I was little more than a slave until I achieved my freedom. Still, if I was nice to him, perhaps in future it would only be a hand spanking as he said, and a reducing number of them if I did well enough at school. At least he seemed prepared to help me with that.

Peggy openly cried but smiled a little when her husband ordered her to go to the bedroom and get undressed and ready for him, “And remember I have to spank you for your attitude at dinner,” he added with a big grin. He’d got a hard-on from watching my thrashing. John too was erect again and didn’t seem at all fazed that his mother saw it. However, he guided me into the shower and put cream on my welts before taking me doggy style on the bed.

We slept with me spooned in front of him, my tender arse and back pressed lightly against his body and his prick nestled in my crack. I slept fitfully. The strangeness of having a tall boy so close to me, the raw painful ache from the whippings, and the realisation that my life had completely changed, all kept my mind in a whorl and prevented me sleeping. The same thing applied to other women too I suppose, but for me the change was more extreme. My thoughts wandered to mother and Sarah and how they might be faring. Mother had to put up with Dad’s authority but Sarah could throw Bob out if she wished.

Dawn barely began to shed some light into the room when I felt John’s prick stiffen and become fully hard. I knew this happened to most men at that hour and my movement to get it into a comfortable position must have awakened him because he yawned and groaned, “Morning Laura, sleep well.”

“Off and on.” His hands found my tits and he played with them for a while and then turned me so he could nibble at my nipples. My tits aren’t all that large but they are sensitive and I quickly found my cunt juices were flowing freely so I guided his prick in and we fucked. Again he took his time and made sure I came before he did. I wondered why other girls, or even Michelle, hadn’t taken more advantage of him. Maybe his outward lankiness put them off or his inability to be forceful enough when girls had the right to say no.

We lay alongside each other and dozed. I wondered how Mitzi fared or if Gareth satisfied Michelle. For once I appeared to have come off best and I knew I would have to do my utmost to keep it that way.

Wednesday September 2nd, Morning

The early morning chill in the air caused goosebumps on my skin as I walked to school, but the temperature was not low enough to wear clothing. People stared of course, not just at my nudity but also at my bright blue cuffs and collar, indicating I was in a punishment routine and then at my back and arse. A few commented but most just looked. At first it embarrassed me but John held my hand and I overcame it by the time we arrived at Michelle and Gareth’s home. We walked the rest of the way together and, sort of like there was strength in numbers, it improved my morale a bit. Michelle had, like John, used the strap on Gareth’s back but the stripes only showed faintly. Mitzi though looked grim when we met up with them at school. Mike had a leash attached to her collar and led her around like a dog he and his cronies made fun of her. She’d obviously been further mistreated since yesterday’s ordeal and once again I felt very thankful to have John as my mentor, if I had to be with anyone and not be my own free self.

My new form room (and theirs) has Mr. Freeman as the teacher but he registered us as if we’d been part of the form forever. We each had to stand at the front for an inspection but he didn’t touch us, although a number of students commented on the colours and bruising of our arses. Many more remarked on the ghastly hues of Mitzi’s tits and each time she moved, we could see she grimaced with pain. Gareth’s prick began to rise because of the attention but Mr. Freeman told us to sit down before it attained full hardness.

Assembly brought another shock. Mrs. Turpin, a plump middle-aged teacher, demanding and forthright in her views, sat at the back stage, naked and with her hands cuffed behind her. Inwardly we speculated on the reasons but most, like me, rightly guessed she said too much and propounded her views on the new legislation. The head confirmed this when, after the usual announcements, he went on, “I am sure you are all dying to know why a member of staff is being held in a state of undress. Throughout the long campaign to introduce the new laws, she spoke forcibly against the change and unfortunately for her, she harangued the staff and myself yesterday and again this morning with her views. Shortly she will receive the penalty for voicing her now illegal opinions. You saw how I treated the three yesterday and heard me point out that the staff were not immune from such treatment, today we have an example of it. Bring Mrs. Turpin to the front please.” He could not hide the glee in his voice.

Mr. Connors and Mr. Gregory lifted and half carried her to the front of the stage. No one would ever call her pretty but she wasn’t unattractive. Somewhat over-weight and with the large, sagging tits that some men like to maul and a luxuriant, untrimmed, bush of black pubic hair, which contrasted with the grey that now tinted the hair on her head. She stood up as tall as her height would allow and looked at us with some distain. “This is barbaric and very wrong, Mr. Burken, and you know it. We females should have equal rights and not be treated as slaves and whipped into submission.”

“Cuff and collar her and fasten her to the frame, I’ll soon show a rebellious woman what rights she has. That arse of yours has plenty of room for a colourful painting.” Mrs. Turpin didn’t resist but continued to look with defiance at the headmaster.

“Forty with the strap and ten with the cane. I think that is all you will be able to take and still teach your classes for the coming week. No, you are not getting any time off and for the rest of this week you will be given into the care of Mr. Connors and like those students yesterday, you will service his needs in whatever way he wishes. Your husband left you several years back so it is time for you to enjoy a man inside you again, a man that won’t take no for an answer.” Mr. Connors is one of the sports staff whose meaty prick we admire.

There were smiles and mutterings from us at the thought of the prudish old woman being fucked by the 24 year-old sports master. I wondered why he volunteered, he must have volunteered unless the head had some other way of persuading him, to spend a week with her when he could probably have seduced a number of the more attractive girls or staff.

A look from the head quietened the murmuring as he took his stance to one side of the teacher. WHAP! I shuddered at the sound and at the sight of the broad red stripe appearing across her white arse. She hardly made a sound. Presumably she tried to be stoic and I wondered how long that would last when the pain and fire built up. WHAP! A second stripe appeared alongside the first. I shuddered again and John gripped my hand. Steadily the reddened area grew until after the tenth stroke he started covering the area again. I think we were all impressed at Mrs. Turpin’s fortitude. She groaned and cried but didn’t scream. Probably though, her reluctance to scream only spurred Mr. Burken to hit harder. By the 25th stroke her yells were more audible and by the time she’d received the full forty, she wept bitterly but she didn’t plead and beg for him to stop. Her raw, red arse looked like a furnace.

The head paused and went to the rear of the stage and picked up a long cane and swished it in the air. As a teacher, I had no great liking for Mrs. Turpin especially as she frequently picked on me for not having done the work to her liking, but I had no wish to see her brutally tortured. I knew what her arse felt like already and, like many others, cried out in horror when that rod bit deeply into her bum and shortly a ridged welt appeared. She did cry out at that, but the head continued to strike her with a sadistic viciousness, like he wanted his revenge for past grievances.

“Silence!’ the head shouted and waved the cane in our direction and we students tried to stifle our cries. “Mrs. Turpin will be taking her lessons as normal after mid-morning break. You will treat her with the same respect as any other teacher and she still has the power to punish any disobedience or poor work, whether from a male or female, with the strap like all other members of staff.” With a few more admonishments the head allowed us to our lessons.

I soon found out why the A stream class was so far ahead of us lowly C streamers. The teachers knew their subject and made the lessons interesting and the students were less disruptive. For the first period we had Mr. Freeman for maths and while I didn’t understand too much of what he said, the rest of the class were lively and asked questions and answered his without any unwanted interruptions. I contrasted it with my previous maths lessons where the teacher spent much of the time reprimanding pupils’ behaviour. When it came to doing the exercises, I hardly knew where to start but Mr. Freeman understood opened up a comms screen and accessed the work the C classes would be doing. Picking some exercises from throughout the book, he told the three of us to do what we could without help. For once I wanted to do the best I could and really tried but some questions were beyond me but I got some right and a few I attempted were wrong. Gareth did better but Mitzi seemed too tired to concentrate and only did a few. At the end he told our mentors to concentrate on two chapters for the next few days but he expected our work to improve up to the standard of the rest before the end of term. “You are getting individual attention so your progress should be far more rapid than if you were in a class of 20,” he told us.

English literature followed and this time we did the same work as the rest. We read a passage from a book, discussed it and then were set homework on it, homework where we had to think and give opinions. Again, the enthusiasm of the teacher and the class, surprised me.

Wednesday September 2nd, Afternoon and evening

In the cafeteria at lunchtime we noticed a C stream boy a year older than me, standing naked in the queue and a girl from his form answered my question. “He taunted Miss Hopkins and suggested that she had her arse thrashed by the head so we could all see her naked. She didn’t stand for that and ordered him to the front but he only swaggered up to her and refused to drop his trousers and bend over her desk. She must have pressed the alarm button because two from security were there seconds later. She gave him the fifteen she thought reasonable and then each of the security guys gave him another ten each. Now he has to be naked for the rest of the week but only while in school.” In a way I was glad it wasn’t just the girls who were on the receiving end of the strap and remarked on it. “She gave Karen half-a-dozen too for not having her books so we saw her arse, but she dropped her skirt when told and only had the six and she was allowed to put her skirt back on. If Miss Hopkins was using the strap to control her class, I bet the men teachers were.

Wednesday afternoons were sports for all year 12 classes and, as always had a choice, of four sports, tennis, rounders, football and for a few more weeks, cricket. “What would you like to play?” John asked.

“Tennis please.” Normally I’m fairly good at it but certainly not up to school team status; I never practised enough for that. John, being a nerd, wasn’t into any sport in particular and Michelle also picked tennis regardless of Gareth’s wishes but he went along with it without comment. Mike chose football and much to the disagreement of the others in his team, Mitzi had to play with him. He came out of the dressing room wearing his football boots, a garish team colour sash and a protective box over his balls while Mitzi only wore her ladies shoes with low heels.

Michelle and Gareth won both our matches although we put in a creditable performance and the score might have been closer had I been able to run a little better. To kill time at the end and allow others to use our court, the sports mistress made us jog around the perimeter of the sports field. We slowed when we passed the football pitch to watch the near naked boys kicking the ball around. A couple of other girls were in the team but they were regulars and keen and as good at the sport as many of the boys. Mitzi stood around almost motionless unless urged to move by Mike or Mr. Connors and we could tell her performance angered Mike by the way he shouted and berated her. I doubted she’d kicked the ball during the match. While we watched, one of the boys from the opposing team deliberately patted a slow ball to her feet. Daintily she trotted to it, kicked out with her right foot missed the ball and fell on her sore back and arse. For a short while she just lay there screaming until Mr. Connors lifted her and walked her towards us. “Stay with them,” he ordered and to us, “Take her to the showers and clean her up. You’re in temporary charge of her John.” We walked and half carried her to the shower room and cleaned the dirt from her welted back as gently as we could. I tried to question her about Mike but she only cried and wouldn’t speak. Her whole body showed a mass of bruises, even between her legs and the soles of her feet.

Mike’s anger again burst forth when he came in and we were still in the showers hoping the water would ease her pain a little. Maybe it did but she’s showed no sign of responding to us. Mike cursed the poor girl for being a useless bitch, not just at football but in bed as well and he threatened to give her arse another dose of the strap when they got home. One of the other boys in his team, calmed him a little but I have no doubt, she’ll suffer again tonight. Don’t know how much more punishment she can take before someone has to step in and stop it. If they wanted a proper mentor, they couldn’t have chosen a worse one than Michael French.

Gorgeous smells of home cooking greeted us when we arrived home. I’ve already begun to think of the Deighton’s house as my home, and we each had a hug and a kiss from an apron clad Peggy. “Smells good Mum,” John remarked and I agreed. So different from the ready-to-cook stuff my mother usually bought. Peggy enquired about our day and showed her pleasure when she saw I no more stripes were added to my body. “She might have Friday if she doesn’t do her homework,” John added, half with a smile and half with concern, “She has an awful lot to do if she is to catch up with us by the end of term, which is what they seem to want.”

“Then you better keep your prick out of her for a bit and get on with it, Master Mentor,” Peggy grinned back at him.

Actually he was quite a good teacher but I soon realised there was a conflict between helping me and doing his own work, so it was quite late when we finally got to bed, had a quick fuck and fell asleep.

Thursday September 3rd

Not too much to report today. Domestic science in the morning and art in the afternoon. John asked for a special dispensation and Gareth and I swapped mentors so that he could do woodwork with John and I did cooking with Michelle. The cooking this morning was all theory and hygiene but we were given a list of ingredients to bring for practical work next week. We were set a little homework on finding information on the sources of the main staple foods, which shouldn’t prove too difficult even for me. Again, without the usual disruptive elements in the class, I enjoyed the lesson.

Art too was good. I now knew I had to try because the crotchety old artist teacher wouldn’t put up with any nonsense and almost at the start of the lesson he raised one girl’s skirt and wacked her arse four times for making a silly comment. Later in the lesson, it probably would have gone unnoticed but I guess he wanted to impress us with his authority.

I’ve always been pretty good at art but hadn’t bothered much. As long as it was good enough to get by, even if only mediocre, then it would do. Now though, in one subject, I could outshine my mentor and I resolved to do so. He struggled to get a reasonable image, whereas I could do better in half the time. That polished my ego a little especially when Sir praised my efforts and suggested that Gareth and I might be used as live models later in the term.

Michelle asked if she could come round and do the homework we’d been set because her small room made it difficult for her and Gareth to work at one desk. John’s room seemed palatial to her (and to me too). This worked out well and eased the problem of them tutoring us and trying to do their own work. Michelle suggested it. “Apart from DS and woodwork, they’re both doing the same work so why don’t I go through it with them both together tonight while you do your homework for an hour or so, and then we swap, you do the mentoring and I work on mine.” I preferred John’s way of teaching but Michelle was okay and took trouble to explain things we didn’t understand.

A bit over an hour later, at changeover time, John grinned, “You know Michelle, if you stay any longer, it can be considered a temporary relationship and you will have to submit to my desires.”

“And you’re tired of your new cunt already and want to revisit one you’ve known before?” She too was laughing but I felt a twinge of jealousy.

“Of course, but perhaps we ought to get our work done first. Neither of us will want our arses wacked for not having done our homework. And maybe Gareth would like to try Laura, with your permission of course.”

I didn’t really want Gareth and I wasn’t sure whether he wanted me or not. He never showed much emotion but when we sat together to do the work, I kept glancing at his prick and I noticed him looking surreptitiously at me. By the end of the session, his prick was at least half hard.

“Go downstairs and ask mother where the stuff is to make us hot chocolate. Take Gareth with you,” John ordered when we’d finished for the evening.” As I suspected it was an excuse to get us out of the way while he fucked Michelle. They were still at it when we returned.

“Your hot chocolate Master. Do you wish anything else Master?” I used my most sarcastic voice causing him to turn and glare at me. I knew then that I’d said the wrong thing but I didn’t apologise. He whispered something to Michelle who giggled, “That should be worth watching.”

A few more thrusts and he pumped his sperm into his partner and then turned to me. “Get yourself bent over the side of this bed Laura.” I immediately thought I was in for another thrashing and started to plead with him and say how sorry I was for what I’d said, but he repeated the order and when I was in position he held me there. “Gareth, I understand you are an expert at fucking arseholes.” He muttered something and John went on, “Laura’s being an arsehole so come round here and fuck her arse.’’

Again I begged forgiveness but he didn’t relent. At least Gareth tongued my hole and got it wet, and it must have stimulated him because his long prick became poker stiff and when Michelle guided it to the entrance, he pushed it all the way in with one smooth movement. I felt some pain but it wasn’t as bad as I expected and he continued to fuck me with the longest of strokes. I wished he’d get it over quickly but it was not to be; he enjoyed it and did all he could to prolong his enjoyment. Gradually my arse accepted his invasion, and while I can’t say I enjoyed it or had a climax, it wasn’t too unpleasant except when he accidentally hit my welts.

“How was it for you?” Michelle asked Gareth after I’d given my opinion.

“I really liked it and find a woman’s arse, or a man’s for that matter, grips my prick nicely and holds it for longer. I prefer that to fucking a woman’s cunt.” Michelle didn’t look too pleased with that remark.

We drank our now nearly cold, chocolate, and said good-bye to them.

“Time to get Dad up and the strap out.’’

“You said you were going to hand spank tonight.”

“ I would have but for the nasty remark you made earlier. Getting fucked in the arse was not punishment and I may well get him to do it again to open you for when I want to try it. Maybe when you have your period.” I had the full ten across my back again although he didn’t hit all that hard.

Alf queried the use of the strap too but John quipped that I been stroppy and earned the strop. I didn’t appreciate the pun.

Later, when he tried to cuddle me in bed, I acted aloof until he kissed me and explained. “Laura, there’s no need to be jealous. We’re friends, Michelle and I, not lovers, like you and I are not lovers. I like you and don’t regard you as a slave but for a change, it is nice to be in charge. With Michelle, I’ve always had to do it when she wanted, and how she wanted. Tonight I could turn the tables. I’ll probably do it again but it won’t be every night so get used to the idea and perhaps get to like what Gareth does.” I let him cuddle me freely afterwards because I knew, despite what just happened, I was relatively well off compared with Mitzi. She looked like death warmed up today, and from the fresh marks, Mike and his mates had beaten her again.

Friday September 4th

I woke before John and crawled down the bed and started to suck his cock. Thinking that I’d better try and make up to him again because I soon remembered what life was like at home and it would be worse now with Daddy in full command of us girls. Even though I moved slowly and sucked gently, it woke him and he fucked me and then I sucked him again but this time when I did so he turned me around so we were in the 69 position, and he sucked me to another orgasm. By then we had to wash and use the toilet and he had to dress.

At assembly, Mr. Burken gave two girls and a boy twenty strokes for ‘behaviour problems’ and said they were to remain naked for all of next week. I almost cried as each stroke landed and the victim cried out with the pain. Mrs. Turpin sat naked on the stage and stood and moved slowly at the end. When I glimpsed her arse, the cane welts still looked raw and painful but I no longer have any lessons with her so I don’t see her much during the day.

Maths again first thing. Mitzi acted like a zombie and hardly spoke or looked around and she hadn’t done any homework at all but Mr. Freeman didn’t strap her. I’m sure he could see it wouldn’t have any effect. Instead he took Michael into his office but, rather than looking shame-faced when he came back into the room, he was angry and hissed something at Mitzi. At break I asked one of the girls who she was friendly with, why her father didn’t step in, and was told that her father was too wrapped up in his work and probably only saw her at weekends. He probably wouldn’t worry overmuch about his daughter getting a spanking and having a personal mentor to him would sound like a good idea. Unfortunately the wrong mentor was chosen. Or did Mr. Burken know what Michael would be like?

Both Gareth and I were praised for our homework. That was certainly a first for me and I’m sure that in my old class, even if I had done the work, I wouldn’t have been congratulated for it. However, to make sure it was our work and we had actually learned it, he set us both several questions on a clean comms sheet and we had to do them without referring to our homework. I did okay but made one silly mistake and Gareth got 100%. I’m sure he would have been an A student if he’d had a suitable home life. Mr. Freeman pulled up further exercises from further on in the Comms Maths Book and set us to doing them. More homework!

He ran everyone’s homework through the checking programme and reminded them they had to get more than 80% otherwise they’d get a dose of the strap in proportion to their mark. “Between 70 and 80% you’ll get four, 60 to 70% you’ll get eight, below that a dozen and if you didn’t do it, then you’ll be naked all day as well. I haven’t had this option in the past but it is one that is being introduced throughout the school so the slackers could get several lots in one day and find it difficult to sit. I know most of you work conscientiously but a few may need this encouragement.” Two boys, who admitted they’d used their new power over their girlfriends, had rushed their work at the last minute and only got 62 and 68% and one girl had 79%. She tried to argue that she was only 1% down but she still had to bare her arse in front of us and take four with the strap. They were comparatively mild ones though but they brought tears to her eyes. The two boys had them much harder and cried out towards the end. Under the new regime, I suppose what Mr. Freeman did was considered fair and I guess would encourage them to do their homework before fucking their girlfriends. I hoped John noted that.

English followed. Composition and essay writing this time, quite different to English Lit we had on Wednesday. For most of the lesson Mr. Brabbant outlined the course, which seemed aimed as much at technical manual and report writing as becoming a novelist. I didn’t think my skills were too far behind the others in this until he gave us a reproduction of an old fashioned fountain pen, now only used by calligraphers, and we had to write an instruction sheet on how to use it. Not so simple when you’ve never seen one before and have to rely on words, not diagrams, to make the instructions clear. Our instruction sheets have to be in by Monday.

At lunchtime Claire, one of the girls who the head strapped at assembly, came to us as we sat on the grass near the sports field. “How long will it take for this dreadful pain to go away?” she asked with tears still in her eyes. I told her that I still felt the pain if I sat down on a hard seat and I’d been taking painkillers and putting cream on as well. “Did he fuck you in his office afterwards?” That shocked me. From the way she said ‘he’ I knew she referred to the headmaster. I said he hadn’t.

Gingerly she knelt alongside me and when I hugged her, tears flowed freely down her face and we all guessed she the head had fucked her and recently too by the state of her cunt. When her sobbing eased, I asked, “What happened?” She wasn’t one of those who I thought had a behaviour problem.

“Someone saw me helping Mrs. Turpin and carrying her case and reported it to Mr. Burken. He assumed I was part of her anti-junta movement, which I’m not, and he ignored my protests. Apparently he also heard that I was a lesbian, which I’m not, although like most girls, I’ve tried it a few times and get off on it with the right girl. I’ve had many more boys than girls but that didn’t hold any sway with him. He told me I would be strapped at assembly and to report to his office directly school finished for the morning.”

“You just come from there and missed lunch?”

“I didn’t feel like eating.’’ Gareth produced half a nut bar and insisted she take it. His action gave her time to recover a little and taking a bite, she settled in my arms and continued. “I went to the office and the secretary took me in. She’s a bitch too. I’d hardly closed the door before she squeezed my arse and made me yell. ‘Bend over the desk,” the head ordered and I thought I was in for another thrashing but he went on, “I want to find out the truth concerning your lesbianism.” There’s no law against it so I couldn’t understand why he wanted to know. He’s fitted cuffs to his desk now so that anyone bent over it for a caning, cannot move because their wrists are fastened down. I really thought he intended to cane me but Mrs. Darrant opened the front of his trousers and took out his prick. “We’ll see how the lezzy bitch likes this.” She showed if to me and then sucked it until it was hard. “Ram it into her Sir, and see how she reacts.” “I intend to Mrs. Darrant, it’s just a case of choosing which hole to use.” I pleaded with him not to do it as my arse was too sore but they took that as a sign of my being a les. That woman pulled my bum cheeks apart and gloated, “She’s still nice and warm from your earlier treatment and both holes are on show, take you pick Sir.” He used my cunt and each time his loins hit my sore arse, I screamed with the pain of it. Again they thought it a sign that I was anti-man. When he finally finished I had to kneel in front of him and suck his prick and balls while the dreaded secretary pinched my tits. He kicked me out but said he would check on me again.”

Few in the school liked Mrs. Darrant the school secretary, and even before the coup, her abrupt manner and unhelpful attitude to all pupils and many of the staff, caused us to dread having to go to her office. Gareth took over cuddling Claire, “It’s better that I hold her so she and you are not branded as lezzies,” but I think he wanted to comfort her anyway, some motherly instinct from his home life, I suppose. He held her until the bell went for the afternoon session.

Science first and then we finished the week in our home room and were able to make a start on our homework. Mr. Freeman came to each one of us and discussed what we’d done during the week and any likely problems. I couldn’t imagine my old form teacher doing that.

Michelle and Gareth came round again that evening and we managed to get our homework out of the way so the weekend would be free. “This won’t often happen,” John remarked, “It’s only the first week and we’ll get more as the term goes on. Normally I try to get it all done by lunchtime on Saturday.” He didn’t fuck Michelle this evening so I had no cause to be jealous and only received a hand spanking at bedtime.

Saturday September 5th

My hoped for stress free day didn’t materialise. It started well enough. We got up late after a long fuck, had a proper breakfast and I helped with the washing-up and did a few chores in our room, then, it being a bright sunny day with the temperature several degrees above 20C minimum for wearing clothes, we decided to go to the shopping centre, or at least John decided to go. He wanted some parts to upgrade his hand comms unit. I’d become semi-used to walking around naked and for people to stare at my welts and blue bands but wasn’t altogether comfortable with being in a crowded place and with the stalls set out around the square for the Saturday market, it would be extra crowded. I didn’t get a choice though and in fact I found it pleasant enough until I ran into Sharon Bishop, an ex-classmate of mine. Sharon isn’t exactly a friend but I know her well enough to chat and from wetness in her eyes she looked ready to start sobbing. We’d hardly said, “Hi,” before she blurted out, “Dad had Mum taken to the Whipping Hall because she refuses to be his slave, as she called it, and wouldn’t allow herself to be used by his fat old boss at a party tonight. He’s sent me to watch so I know what will happen if I refuse to satisfy the boss’s son and I have to escort her home when they release her. She has an appointment for 11:10 and its nearly 11:00 now and I’m afraid to go in alone. Will you come with me? Please, please.”

That was the last thing I wanted to do but she gripped my arm and dragged me towards the Civic Centre. John held my other hand and I know he didn’t want to see any further punishments after what we’d seen all week at school but Sharon needed comforting and shoulders to cry on. She presented a card at the office and after a short discussion concerning us being with her, they showed us into the relatives viewing area.

They were running a little behind schedule and we had to watch the finishing stages of the whipping of a big, buxom woman. One of the two whippers stood in front of the woman and the other behind and alternated their strokes front and rear. The poor woman yelled hoarsely at every stroke. A man alongside us shouted, “That’s it, keep whipping the bitch. Do it harder. Make the bitch suffer!” Seeing us he said, “That’s my wife. For years she’s withheld her body from me and thought she could continue to do so. Now she’ll know I call the shots. Tonight she’ll open her legs and mouth or she’ll be back here in the morning.” The audience along the other side of the hall, yelled and clapped. They weren’t all men either but I suspect that most of the women were reluctant to be there, having been dragged in to show what could happen to them if they didn’t do as their menfolk desired.

The whipping ceased and a white coated man came on and sprayed both sides of the woman with an antiseptic before they released her and led her out of the hall.

“Bring in Betty Bishop to receive 50 lashes for insubordination to her husband.” I’d only met her a couple of times but I recognised the stocky woman immediately and the warders escorted her to the sand circle in the centre of the hall and fastened her wrists to the loop hanging from the ceiling. We could see she was crying but above the other noises in the hall, we couldn’t hear it. Sharon cried too and, clinging to her, I soon followed suit. The loop rose and stretched Betty’s arms until she barely stood flat-footed on the sand. Two fresh whippers entered and cracked their whips harmlessly but noisily and frighteningly in the air. The crowd quietened, eagerly waiting for the first stroke to land and for her to utter the first scream. I tried not to look but found myself drawn to the spectacle, John stood behind us a clasped his arms around both our shoulders in an effort to give us a little comfort.

CRACK! The back whipper started and laid the first lash across poor Betty’s shoulders. She groaned loudly but didn’t scream. The pain must have been terrible because the welt ran the whole width of her shoulders and looked deep and I re-lived my ordeal on the school stage although it was nothing compared to the whipping she had I hoped I would never be in her situation.

CRACK! The frontal whipper lashed the front of her thighs a little below her mound. The force almost knocked her feet from under her and this time she did yell. CRACK!... CRACK!... CRACK!... CRACK!... Methodically the men worked the lashes over the poor woman’s body. The crowd cheered when she pissed herself but the sand quickly absorbed the liquid and the whippers continued without pausing. To them it was just another job, another woman to flog, they’d have a break afterwards and be back again shortly to punish yet another woman who thought she could boss her man around. The electronic scoreboard showed she’d taken 38 strokes by the time the back whipper reached her arse and the front one was about to start on her tits. Those across her tits caused her the greatest pain especially as they placed three of the strokes directly across both nipples, forcing her to utter loud, hoarse screams that could be heard above the noise of the crowd. 

Finally it ended, the white coat man came on and sprayed her and two warders escorted her to the recovery and collection room. John, being the only male in our group, had to sign her out and he ordered a robotaxi to take us to her home a little outside town. Jake, her husband, did at least thank us for bringing her home but had little sympathy for his wife or Sharon. “I hope you’ve learned your lesson Betty and you too Sharon, I won’t hesitate to send you there as well if you refuse to do what you’re told. Juniors get the same number of lashes but with a lighter whip but I doubt you’d notice the difference. Both of you will entertain my boss and his son when they come tonight and the fact you are a bit tender may well increase his enjoyment.”

“How could he be so callous as to say his wife was ‘a bit tender’ when her raw, welted body was in so much pain that she had difficulty in standing?” I questioned John when we left. I hadn’t wanted to stay and neither did he.

John played with the parts he’d bought for his hand comms unit while I helped Peggy with lunch. I cried again when I told her what happened and we hugged and cuddled for a bit and then she whispered, “Don’t be surprised if Alf asks for some time with you.” I looked shocked but realised he probably fancied a fresh cunt to fuck and having seen me naked for some days, and my not being able to refuse, I suppose I should have expected it. John would no doubt agree like he had with Gareth. “Don’t look so worried,” Peggy grinned, “He won’t do anything to hurt you and, as you’ve already seen, he’s no bigger than John in the prick department.”

The afternoon and evening were a pleasant anti-climax after the morning’s trauma. We went to the swimming pool where my nudity didn’t stand out and I saw at least two others with blue collars and cuffs but I didn’t recognise or speak with them. Their whipping didn’t look as bad as mine or even Gareth’s and I suspected they’d a more lenient headmaster. Alf didn’t ask for me but John confirmed he would be obliged to loan me to him if he asked.

Sunday September 6th

Alf requested me this morning. John finished his morning fuck and we went to the toilet and were going to snuggle down again for a bit, when Alf came into the bedroom. “Would you mind if I have a little session with Laura? Mother will keep you company for a while or at least until she makes breakfast.” Of course he agreed but it rankled me more than a little that I had no say in the matter but at least I wasn’t as badly done by as Sharon and Betty. Peggy slipped into my place in the bed, remarked on how warm the sheets were, and pulled John to her. I doubted if John would get another erection for a while so they probably only played or did things orally. John didn’t say.

Actually, Alf treated me much like his son except that when he was in me, my mouth centred on his nipples and I surprised him by nipping them with my teeth. With his usual grin, he threatened to spank me for hurting him but the swats he gave me were not more than gentle rubs.

In the afternoon we visited my home but only mother and Sarah were there, both naked. At least we had a chance to talk fairly freely and I could see there weren’t too many fresh marks on their bodies. After that first night, both women tried to do what Dad wanted. Bob left Sarah yesterday so she now sleeps in bed with mother and father and he uses them both. Sarah said she’d had the strap twice at school for not doing well enough at lessons, but each time it was only two strokes so again it seems that my school has a much harsher regime than hers. No one had been flogged hard like I was and only three girls were forced to be naked in school. Perhaps her headmaster isn’t a sadist like Mr. Burken. I wonder how many other Mr. Burken type headmasters there are in this town. We didn’t stay long in case father came home and wanted to fuck me. John would have probably made some excuse but it could have led to some unpleasantness and I’d had enough of that yesterday, and indeed, all week.

Monday September 7th

Drama right from the start of school this morning. Mitzi staggered in looking even more out of it than she did on Friday, and in the classroom, stumbled and fell as she walked, or rather, tottered to her place. Mike still kept her on a leash he’d coiled around his wrist so she pulled him down as well. In a way it was comical but Mike didn’t see the funny side of it and angrily kicked Mitzi in the stomach when she didn’t get up. Mr. Freeman immediately stepped in and checked the unconscious girl, commed the emergency paramedics and showed them pictures of Mitzi and answered questions on her condition. Minutes later the air ambulance and crew were there and insisted the collar was taken off. Mr. Freeman had to comm the office to get a key sent to us and by then the police, following up on the accident report, arrived and it was all pretty chaotic. The police insisted no one leave the room so we missed assembly. Mr. Burken turned up but wasn’t allowed to speak with any of us although he was told what happened. Finally the key arrived from the office and the medics removed Mitzi’s collar, put a surgical one on, and gave her an injection and oxygen. Less than ten minutes later, the ambulance whisked her to hospital.

The police remained. First they spoke quietly with Mr. Freeman for some time and then he turned to us. “Open your comms books to a new document, title it ‘Mitzi Colbourne Accident Report’ and write your version of what happened today and what brought it all on. You’ll probably have to start from the beginning of term. Take your time and put in all the relevant details that you know of but don’t include hearsay or make any assumptions. Write down the things you’ve actually witnessed.”

I looked around but Mr. Burken wasn’t in the room. Mr. Freeman must have noticed because he said, “These reports will only be seen by the police, not the headmaster so feel free to write exactly what happened as you saw it.” I felt that he disagreed with the severity of the punishment meted out at our school although I knew he agreed with the male supremacy thing. If I were a man, I probably would too.

All the time the police watched us to make sure we didn’t collude with each other, but they didn’t attempt to interfere with our writing, but I noticed they kept a close watch on Michael. I was the last to finish but they just put that down to my being a C stream girl and not the fact that I wrote more than the others. I don’t know whether I did or not because we all put our reports in a secure folder that two policemen uploaded on to their comms unit and sent to HQ.

We didn’t hear anything more until lunchtime although various official visitors came and went and the police remained in the school all morning. During our lunch break we tuned our comms to the local radio newscast. They mentioned the ‘incident’ but only said surgeons were still fighting to save Mitzi Colbourne’s life after she’d collapsed in school. No mention of whippings, beatings or slavery to mentors and we expected the whole thing to be hushed up.

An air of tension and expectancy pervaded the school, although lessons carried on as normal except our regular teachers were often called from the lesson for interview with the police and replaced by a stand-in teacher, and at one time, by a senior boy. This proved an unexpected bonus as they more or less only supervised enough to see that we didn’t cause trouble and didn’t set us homework. Even so we were all nervous as to what might happen.

Michael never returned to lessons after lunch. Rumours abounded that both he and Mr. Burken were arrested and taken to jail and the more extreme versions had it they would be flogged until they confessed. Even I didn’t believe that, not with the Terminological Exactitude Detection (TED) unit, or lie detector as we called it, equipment now installed in all police stations and many other places.

“Let’s get our homework done before dinner, then we can have the evening to ourselves,” Michelle suggested but it didn’t work out that way.

Peggy invited her and Gareth to stay for dinner and partway through the meal, Alf answered the house comms unit. “You and Gareth are asked to attend a meeting of the school governors at the education offices, you at 19:00 and Gareth at 19:30. Your partners can attend as well but they will interview you two separately and alone,” he informed us and transferred the info to our comms units. Only a secretary’s face appeared on the screen and no other details were given so we could only speculate as to why we were chosen to attend. Obviously it had to do with our being in the mentor programme and was connected to Mitzi but why are we being called at such short notice?

Monday September 7th Late evening

It’s over now. I found it a harrowing experience and so did the others especially when it looked as if we would be separated, the programme abandoned and we’d be returned to our homes.

Alf’s airmobile wasn’t big enough for five so he hired a robotaxi and came with us in case they wanted to ask him questions too. Of course they made us sit and wait until well past the 19:00 hours they’d stipulated and then I had to go into the interview room alone and put on the TED head gear. Very nervously I took a seat in front of five men and one woman, who I vaguely knew were school governors, and one police officer. For a start they went through the report I’d written on Mitzi, which I had thought was for police use only but I suppose the officer being there sanctioned it. I couldn’t add much to what I’d written but I suppose having the lie detector on, validated the document.

Afterwards they questioned me about being in the programme and my treatment by the headmaster. I couldn’t help but tell the truth as I saw it. I told them the thrashing was unnecessary and too severe but they separated the strapping I had at home from the one at school and said neither was overly severe. The fact that I’d had one on top of the other didn’t concern them, certainly it didn’t disturb them like it did Mitzi’s who had them all at one time. Only the woman seemed a little perturbed but I guessed she hadn’t yet felt the strap across her arse to put her point more forcibly. The interview definitely wasn’t going well at that point.

Then came the questions. “What did I feel about being taken from my class and put into a higher grade? Did I resent the extra work? Was I willing to do the extra homework? Did I resent being forced to submit to my mentor? Was I forced to submit to others? Would it not be better for me if I returned to my father and my family?” The questions went on and on and I had to answer but I made it clear that I wanted to stay with the Deightons and wanted to stay with the A stream class but they persisted in offering me the chance to go home and return to my old form. During the questioning they let slip that the Authority paid Alf 500 Eurocredits a week to feed and clothe me. It wasn’t much and I estimated I cost them more than that even though I had no need of clothing yet. When I asked Alf on the way home, he seemed surprised but a comms check on his credit status confirmed it had been paid but he said that it was an insignificant amount and he had yet to be informed of his entitlement to it.

Eventually John was called in and the TED unit transferred to him and he faced a similar barrage of questions. He confirmed his willingness to continue to tutor me and that I willingly shared his bed and serviced him to his satisfaction and that he’d punished me when I didn’t. Our arrangement with Michelle and Gareth also came out and was looked at with some scepticism at first but John ably argued the reasons for it and pointed out that Michelle could tutor the subjects she was best in and he could do the same. Finally, much to our relief, they announced we could continue with the mentor programme if I wished but this would be the last and only chance I had of getting out of it. The programme is now a permanent part of my life at least until the standard of my work is up to that of the rest of the form.

My interview had taken 45 minutes. Gareth went in next but Michelle was kept away from us and we weren’t allowed to talk about what happened in the room but I’m sure she guessed the outcome from the way John held me close and Alf put a reassuring hand on my shoulder as tears rolled down my face. For once they were tears of happiness.

They called Michelle in after Gareth’s interview had gone on for a comparatively short time but spent quite a while with her but she said when we left, “We’re still together but with changes.”

Her parents sat with Peggy when we arrived home. Michelle commed them before we left but they were looking after her grandmother and couldn’t get to the meeting in time. Ken and Maria Barker are a serious couple, he’s a foreman at a distribution yard and she’s a supervisor clerk who’d hoped to rise further in her employment but, with the new laws, that now seemed unlikely. I like them but I doubt if I could ever be close to them like I am with Alf and Peggy.

“How’d it go Shorty?” Ken asked as he stood and they shook hands. I had to smile. Alf told me his nickname when we first met but no one used it in the house.

“Best let the kids tell you, Ken, I haven’t heard the full story either.”

John and I gave a brief version of my interview and Michelle and Gareth told theirs. Gareth for once did most of the talking. “Like you Laura, they questioned me about Mitzi and they let slip that her father had ordered a full investigation and if his daughter died, Michael and Mr. Burken would be tried for murder.”

“The latest newscast said she was still in intensive care and on a life support machine after an eight hour operation but the outcome was still uncertain. It also mentioned the arrests and possible murder charges,” Ken interrupted.

Gareth continued, “They asked my views on being in the programme and like Laura, I said I wanted to continue with it. Then they started on about my being a man and under the control of a woman. They tried to make me feel that I should control her but with the lie detector on you have to tell things exactly as you feel them and I said I had always been under the control of other men and didn’t feel that I could ever be the one in charge and I liked Michelle and enjoy the way she treats me, not only with my school work but in bed too. They discussed my being very effeminate and somewhat homosexual from my home life but didn’t say what they were going to do at that stage. Of course, with my being naked, they could see my thin prick and that caused a few more comments. Michelle came in and they went over it all with her. How she felt about schooling me, how she felt about being in charge of my sexual life and how she would react if I were in charge of her. We both pleaded to remain together but for the longest time it looked like they were going to separate us. They didn’t like a woman being in charge of a man or even a boy.”

Michelle cut in. “The woman saved the situation. ‘Permission to speak,’ she requested, and when given the go ahead, went on, ‘Even in the short time the two have been together, Gareth appears to be benefitting greatly from Michelle’s tutoring. If we send him back to his home, he’ll become nothing more than a worthless gay slave boy with little academic credentials so the country will not benefit in any way from that. However, I concede your point about his not being in control at times other than school and tutoring times, is not in accordance with the new laws. If I may be so bold as to suggest that at school / tutoring times, Gareth wears a short skirt to indicate that he is a woman. I know he’s supposed to be naked but a short skirt wouldn’t hide much. At these times Michelle should wear trousers to indicate she is in man-mode and in charge of him. She can’t hide her breasts so that is out. At all other times, Gareth, although he must be naked, is in charge of her. He’ll still wear the blue collar and cuffs until he’s released from the programme.’ I began to feel more hopeful they’d allow us to stay together.” Michelle paused and I wondered how dual personalities would work out especially because of Gareth’s reluctance to be in charge but Michelle hadn’t finished.

“They debated it for some time and accepted it in principle but changed the short skirt to a false bra. They felt being naked in school should mean his prick and balls were on full display at all time. That’s about how it ended. As a temporary measure, I’ll stuff one of my bras for him to wear but we should be able to get a theatrical one tomorrow or later in the week. I’ve a several pairs of slacks that I use for winter wear so that’s no problem but I’ll need to get proper Morsham School ones and none of Gareth’s will fit. At least we won’t be separated.” I could understand why Gareth wanted to remain with her but why she wanted to remain with him was less clear, especially as he would now call the shots at bedtime. She must have feelings for him like I have for John. Perhaps it’s because he’s her first real boyfriend and perhaps in the privacy of their bedroom, she anticipates still being in control.

Tuesday September 8th

Mrs. Tomkins, the deputy headmistress, took assembly this morning. She’s a tough old lady, probably due for retirement soon, but she’s a good teacher, strict but she never raises her voice, and knows how to put her information across in an interesting way. I’ve only had her a few times because she mostly teaches the senior classes. We were a little surprised they allowed her to take over but she explained it all.

“Boys and girls, as you must have guessed already from my being on the stage this morning, I have now taken over as acting head of Morsham School until such time as a new headmaster is appointed. This will probably take about a month. Officially Mr. Burken is still in charge and will be until the court decides he is guilty of the charges against him. Rather than you hearing the information second or third hand, the situation is this. Mr. Burken and Michael French are jointly charged with attempted murder although the charges might be reduced before their trial or increased if poor Mitzi Colbourne dies. At the moment the girl is still in a coma on a life support machine, at least that was the position an hour ago when I contacted her father. I understand the doctors are hopeful that she’ll come through it okay but recovery will be slow and it could be weeks before she returns to school, either here or elsewhere.

I have appointed Mr. Freeman to act as my deputy and he has agreed to do this and continue his normal teaching duties.

You will notice that Mrs. Turpin is again wearing clothes. With Mr. Connors agreement, I terminated her time with him by one day and restored her clothing option. You will continue to treat her with respect and allow her to teach without interruption and I can assure you that any who abuse her will be punished. I may be a woman but I can wield the strap with enough force to bring tears to the strongest boy’s eyes and if their behaviour warrants it, I can and will use the cane.

Some of you will have noticed two students dressed in a rather peculiar manner. Gareth is wearing a bra and Michelle some rather garish trousers. As yet I don’t know the full story but I gather the governors at a meeting last night sanctioned or ordered it so they could stay in the naked in school punishment programme and Gareth and Laura can benefit from the mentor system. It is a brave thing for both of them to do and I would like to see the four of you in my office immediately after lunch to learn the full details. Mr. Freeman will give you a pass to go to the front of the queue in the cafeteria.

To you all, I would ask for your co-operation in the coming few difficult days and for you to continue to work to the best of your ability. The school rules will not be relaxed and we’ll expect you to arrive on time and to have done any work you’ve been set.” For a few more minutes she continued exhorting us to work and try to put the other events to the back of our minds and then dismissed us.

“It’s the best I could come up with at short notice Miss,” Michelle apologised. None of us could keep a straight face as we sat with Mrs. Tomkins in her office looking at Gareth’s over-large bra that had slipped somewhat during the day. Fortunately she smiled too. We’d already given her a long explanation of yesterday’s meeting.

“Do you know that little shop in The Walk that sells theatrical stuff? They have false breasts that are almost lifelike,” Mrs. Tomkins asked and I wondered how she knew.

“Yes, Miss,” Michelle answered, “I was going to try there after school tonight. Dad put some credits in my account so I could get something for him and school trousers for me.”

“That answers my next question,” She said, “How do you intend to split your time between being a boy and a girl Gareth?

“We talked it over last night in bed and decided I would be a boy and have boy’s rights from the time we finish homework in the evenings until I put the bra or breasts on the next morning to come to school. I’ll be a girl from then until, homework is done. At weekends I’m a girl during homework time and then I can either take my breasts off or leave them on until after dinner in the evening. I get the choice. Whenever I wear the breasts, she wears the trousers and I’m subservient to her. We thought that the simplest and most workable solution Miss,” Gareth answered and she gave her approval and said to let her know if anything changed.

We discussed my work and my recovery from the beating and other spankings. “You realise Laura that the nightly spankings are not compulsory laws?” I didn’t and nor did John. “They were added by Mr. Burken. John can continue with them if he wishes or just spank you as he thinks necessary, which, under the new laws, can be as often as he thinks fit, but you know that.”

We spoke a little more and then she confided, “After your experience I’m thinking of putting another two girls in the programme, not from your year because that would mean too many in the A stream, but selecting the right mentors is the difficult part. I don’t want to be the cause of another tragedy and I won’t be doing it until the dust has settled over Mitzi’s case.”

At home we speculated who might be next in the programme but there were too many possibles and we’d been asked to keep it to ourselves.

Friday September 11th

I haven’t written anything for the last few days mainly because its all been fairly routine. Schoolwork, homework, bed and fuck. I’m writing this tonight because I’m worried about tomorrow. I have to attend the court for the trial of Michael and Mr. Burken. They may or may not call me to the stand and if they do it will be as an example of how good the mentor system is. Everyone in the country and indeed, the rest of the world, will then see me naked as the trial is being broadcast on the nationwide comms system. They declined to have Gareth because of the boy being under the control of a girl thing.

Mitzi came out of her coma yesterday but is still very ill and no one from the school has been allowed to see her yet. Gareth has his new tits and they look good on him too. He’s a genuine looking transvestite now. We’re getting used to it but it causes many people to stare if we go into town. The collar and cuffs and bruises on his arse give an indication of why he’s wearing them.

Saturday September 12th

I had to be there at 08:45 and John came with me but wasn’t allowed in the small anteroom. He couldn’t get a place in the courtroom either and had to be content to sit outside and watch the proceedings on his comms unit. That was the furthest we’d been apart since I started on the programme. I didn’t even have the option of watching the proceedings as my comms unit was confiscated at the desk but John downloaded it all on to the home server so I can watch it tomorrow.

Five minutes after I’d sat down, Mrs. Turpin limped in carrying a cushion. She acknowledged my presence with a nod but I thought it a good opportunity to talk with her instead of sitting silent for a few hours. “That’s a good idea Miss. I wish I’d thought of it because these chairs are going to feel awfully hard if we are here until the lunch recess,” I chirped in a friendly way.

I wondered if I’d said too much and she would snub me but no, she smiled a little and said, “I thought so too. Is your bottom still smarting?”

“Not so much now but I still feel it if I sit down hard or have to sit for long periods on a school chair. Why are you here?”

“In case the prosecution wants to show how vicious the man can be. What about you?”

“Guess I’m on the opposite side. I’m to show off the merits of the mentor system but the lawyer said it was unlikely that I would be called. Just have to be here in case.”

We both knew that since the introduction of the TED machines by the previous administration, court procedures were streamlined and few witnesses were called or needed when the accused was forced to tell the truth. Occasionally, like in our case, characters witnesses were brought in to emphasise a point.

“Same with me. You seem to have made out all right in the end and got a good boyfriend out of it too. Very sad about Mitzi though. He knew what Michael was like and chose him for that reason. All for revenge.” We sat close together and, like me, I think she wanted someone to talk to, to get her mind off a possible ordeal in the courtroom. If called to the witness stand, she’d have to show the marks still visible from the head’s thrashing, not only to the judge but to the newscast cameras. She looked very downcast and I’d some sympathy for her now we’d both been through similar very painful and humiliating experiences. As much for my own sake as hers, I tried to keep the conversation going.

“John’s a bit of a slave driver when it comes to my homework but he’s good in bed and his family treat me better than mine did. Several times when he forced me to do homework instead of watching a comms programme, I’ve wished I’d opted out of the programme but when I really think about, I know where I am better off. If I opted out, under the new rules, I’d still be made to do the work and I wouldn’t have anyone to ask when I got bogged down with a problem and I’d get a dose of the strap at school for not doing my work properly. John only hand spanks me, and then only when I get angry and start to swear at the comms screen or him. How did you get on with Mr. Connors?”

A very personal question from a girl as young as me to a woman of her age (about 50?) and I wished I hadn’t blurted it out and started to apologise when she admitted it was better than she expected. She waited a long while before looking me in the face and taking my hand, before going on. “I know you girls have watched him in the showers admired his man equipment and he really is quite good with it. I thought I would be bent over the bed or made to open my legs wide and he’d poke me for a short while until he came, but no, he treated me like a lover in that he tried to make sure I was satisfied too. Mind you with all the pain, it was difficult to worry about having an orgasm. He tried to ease the pain for me too with salve and pills and they had some effect.”

“I did the same thing and it did help but it didn’t get rid of all the pain although it made things a bit more bearable. Your cane welts were worse than the strappings.”

“I know dear, and they’re still pronounced and sore. The first time we did it was the worst because I’d not had a man for so long and being so tender and angry I didn’t get wet like I did years ago. My natural inclination to resist clicked in and I tried to struggle but after fighting the pain I was just too weary to put up more than a token resistance. He soon quelled that. ‘Emily, you can fight me as much as you want but I’m still going to fuck you however much it hurts,’ Ray Connors told me in his uncouth way, ‘But if you co-operate, I’ll try to be careful and not hurt you unnecessarily. I am going to fuck you though whenever I can get my prick hard enough. When Greg Burken asked me to take you on, I was reluctant because I’d never had an old woman before but then I thought it would make a change from the young girls I usually take to bed and I’ve had to put a couple of them off for a few days to accommodate you, so, yes, you’re going to have my prick in your cunt or up your arse as often as I want to put it there.’ He used the most crude terms and I hope I haven’t offended you, but as I said the first time was the worst. I think he tried to be careful but it still hurt and I complained loudly when he bent me over the bed and took me from behind.”

“Doggy style,” I commented, “John did me that way too so that he didn’t put his weight on my arse.”

“You young girls do use crude language but I suppose it is in keeping with today’s philosophy. You’re right though, it did spare me having to support his weight but my vagina was dry and he went all the way in a few times so it wasn’t a pleasant experience at all. He did it again in the shower later and he’d played with me a bit by then and my juices flowed but I still didn’t enjoy it even though having one that size in me for the first few times, did fill and stretch me nicely.”

“I know what you mean. John’s bigger than anyone I’d had before and that stretched me but I’m used to it now. Mr. Connors is even larger but I suppose towards the end you took it easily?”

“While I could never admit it to him, I did start to enjoy it after the first two days when the creams and pills had overcome the sharpest pains in my bottom, then Mary Tomkins took me away from him. I wasn’t sorry to be able to put my clothes on again to teach I can tell you, but I missed being in bed with a man. Teaching kept us separated for most of the day, but I had to be with him at all times when I didn’t have a class. Ray made me shower with him at school after he’d had a sweaty sports session so I got to see quite a number of the older boys and one or two got an erection from watching Ray soap me and a couple of the male staff looked at me too but they are married and I’m not sure if any of them thought of me as a sexual object or were just looking at the welts and bruises on my body.”

“Don’t put your self down Mrs. Turpin, underneath the stripes and bruises, you’ve a body that will attract men. We saw that before you were punished. If you use the school showers more often, someone will try and seduce you and once it becomes known that you are willing, you’ll get a better choice.”

“And become a whore like Jane Cannel?”

“Maybe not quite like her. She wants several boys at a time from what I hear but you only have to get invited out or be in a man’s company for an hour and you’re in a temporary relationship and will have to submit to his desires. That way you can pretend it’s being forced on you.”

We talked more about her life and mine as though we were lifelong friends until they told us we were free to leave. The court case had finished and both Michael and Mr. Burken were sentenced to 7 years in a labour camp. They’d feel the whip and be arse raped there for sure, that was one of the issues debated before the laws came into force.

Sunday September 13th

Gareth and Michelle came mid-morning. Gareth wasn’t wearing his tits so we knew it was his turn to be in charge. Michelle wasn’t her usual cheerful self but part of that was because she’d started her period and Gareth had fucked her arse twice. I wondered if John would do the same to me when I started in a few days time.

I didn’t watch the downloaded version of the trial. The many newscasts showed the highlights over and over again and it made the national network. With both Mr. Burken and Michael forced to tell the truth, it soon became very clear that Mrs. Turpin was right in that the motive was revenge and Michael had been given full permission to treat Mitzi badly and to encourage all his friends and even his father, to fuck her as often as they could. Mike, for his part, took the instruction to the extreme. It also emerged that both Mrs. Tomkins and Mr. Freeman had urged the head to step in and stop her degradation and Mrs. Tomkins had even commed Mitzi’s father’s office and the secretary had taken the message but had not passed it on.

As it drew much adverse publicity, a spokesman for the junta issued a statement regretting what had happened and saying it was never the intention to treat women as badly or to make them into slaves for sadistic pleasure, only to return the males rightful place in society. They would shortly put safeguards in place to see it didn’t re-occur.

A pretty meaningless statement.

*****   *****   *****

Sunday 25th September 2026

I continued to write my daily diary entries but they were largely routine stuff and repetitive so I’ve omitted them here, this is the final entry for any readers who’ve followed the saga.

The fuss has died down but not much changed as far as I am concerned. I’m still in the Naked in School Punishment Programme but with the cooler weather I now wear a long coat to school but have to remove it once I’m inside the building. I’m well used to it now and the stripes from my first flogging have disappeared. John continues as my mentor as Michelle is with Gareth and we’re still friends and she tutors me as often as John does. The strange duel boss/slave thing between them worked out once Michelle realised that Gareth could be forceful when he wanted. Occasionally when John fancies a change of partner, we swap and he fucks Michelle for an hour or so and I have to service Gareth. This happened last when I had my period and Gareth had me in the arse. He lubricates me well and his entry is easier and less painful than with John. I can’t say I really enjoy it that way but both boys like it so I have to go along with it. Michelle says it gets better the more you have it there, and when Gareth is boss boy, he does it fairly often. He even persuaded John to let him do him once while we watched and even got John hard enough to fuck him in return.

John and I are more or less true lovers but with me, he is always the boss. He insists that I do my homework properly and the one time, when I tried to be truculent and didn’t worry too much, I received four swats with the strap in front of the class the next day. The strapping system hasn’t changed. I’ve had a few swats at other times for minor things and John spanks me now and again when I try to manipulate him but we usually fuck afterwards and make up. Still seems that girls get the raw end of the deal and are made to bend over the front desk more often than the boys. The one-hour temporary relationship rule is often bent to include several boys at once. Some enjoy it but most try and avoid situations where it might occur. Fortunately, by being in a permanent relationship with John and being collared, I cannot be fucked by others without his permission.

Mitzi is home from hospital but hasn’t returned to school but she and Steve popped in on Friday afternoon. Mrs. Tomkins sent Steve Jacobs to her home to help with her schoolwork and he’s been there voluntarily several times since and I understand she’s now living with him. There’s talk that her father employs him as a private tutor but so far that hasn’t been confirmed and although I suggested they join our little study circle, Steve didn’t commit himself. Steve’s very shy, quite the opposite to Michael, so both of them might benefit from a relationship.

Yes, Mrs. Tomkins is still our acting headmistress but we don’t know for how much longer. She’s put another couple of girls into the programme. Older girls and they both had 25 whacks with the strap but I noticed they weren’t as fierce as ours were and the bruising faded far quicker. The girls howled though but they seem okay now.

Mrs. Turpin has a boyfriend who spends the weekends at her house. We don’t know much more about him, except that he is a man slightly younger than her who she met through Mr. Connors. She actually looked happier sitting on the stage in assembly, than she’d done since I’d known her.

Looking back over this month, I know I’m much better off especially when I see how father treats my mother and sister, but I wouldn’t voluntarily go through the trauma of the thrashings again.

Finis