Kinky(2)

‘All English girls are like this?’

I reach my target and crouch on the pavement, getting myself into optimum peeking position.

‘Please stop harassing me,’ I snap, then I take a huge lungful of toxic London air and fail to find any more words until a heartfelt ‘Oh my God!’ escapes my lips.

‘You are OK?’

The tourist guy kneels down next to me. I try to flap him away with my shaking hand, but he is having none of it. He leans forwards, wanting to see what it is that has shocked me so.

‘Wow,’ he says, sounding impressed. ‘This is typical London bar?’ He chuckles. ‘The English vice, right?’

‘Uh-huh.’ I can’t speak, I’m too engrossed in what I’m witnessing.

We are looking down into a plain, cell-like basement room. The exposed brickwork is painted white and bare of decoration. A bank of four old-fashioned school desks take up the central space, while facing us at the end is a chalkboard with some Latin verb conjugations written on it. The verb of the day appears to be Flagello – to flagellate. Very apposite, given that the stern-looking middle-aged man standing beside the board is wielding a crook-handled cane of the type that was banned in schools when I was a wee girl.

At three of the four desks, their backs to us, sit two overgrown schoolboys and an overgrown schoolgirl. I had no idea you could get school uniforms in adult sizes but obviously there’s a niche market out there.

At the front, beside the ‘teacher’, a woman of about thirty, pigtailed and mini-kilted, stands on a chair with her hands on her head. She is trembling a little, her face is flushed, but it’s unclear whether fear or excitement predominates in her emotions. I suppose it must be excitement, given that the sight of her in her humiliating predicament is making my stomach squirm a little and my knickers dampen. I try to attune myself to what might be going through her mind and find myself surprisingly keen to experience it at firsthand.

I hold my breath, then let it out when the teacher lifts the hem of her skirt with the tip of his cane, revealing the kind of navy-blue gym knickers that went out in about 1975. She is made to hold the skirt up and turn around, giving the class an eyeful of her full, rounded bum.

The teacher says something, swishing his cane through the air, and she steps off the chair, carefully, hands still on head, then she bends and places her palms flat on the seat, sticking out that arse so that the gym knickers stretch and outline it in pitiless detail.

The teacher addresses his pupils, punctuating his words by smacking the hand that isn’t holding the cane down on the disgraced girl’s bottom repeatedly. Her flesh quivers but she keeps her position. How painful is it? I wish I could hear through the heavy glazing. I want to know what that sounds like.

He stops and says something to the girl, who stands and then peels down her knickers to her knees. My breathing is ragged as the freshly spanked pink globes are revealed to shameful view. God, what must she be thinking and feeling? If she’s anything like me, she’ll be soaking wet around the crotch. I’ve had this kind of fantasy for years, but never expected to see it in action.

She reassumes the position, sticking her arse out at the teacher’s injunction and spreading her legs wide enough for me to be able to see, even at this distance, that she is aroused. Doesn’t it bother her that everyone can see?

I want to put my hand down my skirt, but the inconvenient presence of tourist guy thwarts me. For his part, his eyes are on stalks, his long nose almost butting the bars in his eagerness to get the best view. What a voyeur. Yes, I’m a hypocrite.

The teacher flexes his cane then positions himself at a suitable distance from his victim’s well-presented derrière and draws back his weapon.

He holds it there for so long that my chest begins to ache with expectant tension. Then he flicks his wrist, the cane blurs through the air and makes contact with her bottom. I flinch, and so does she.

‘Ouch,’ says tourist guy.

A line of white appears on her skin, then it turns redder and redder until she has a magnificent scarlet welt across the broad centre of her arse. It looks wildly painful. I want to know how wildly painful it is. And I want tourist guy to fuck off so I can masturbate whilst contemplating this. But that’s going to have to wait until I’m in my bed, I suppose.

The teacher lays six strokes in total, and the girl somehow miraculously stays in position, though she flexes her feet and bobs up and down after each cruel blow. She is made to kiss the rod while I admire the gorgeous pattern of red stripes she bears on her bum for all to see.

Teacher tucks her skirt into her waistband so she can’t hide her punished condition and makes her stand back on the chair, while he turns back to the board and the conjugation of Latin verbs.