This is a sequel to Joe Doe's excellent "Back in School."  



 
                     BACK IN SCHOOL II

                            by 

                          Watcher




Part 1
 
Susan Griffith was a delinquent!  When I heard the news I could 
hardly believe it.  It was one thing for the average woman to be 
hauled away to the reformatory, but for someone like Susan...well, 
things like that simply didn't happen, or so I had always thought. 
Her money and connections should have made any legal difficulties 
simply go away.  It had always worked that way for me. 
 
When I first heard, I shivered with delight and no small amount of 
excitement.  To think of Susan locked away, subject to strict 
corporal punishment for the smallest infraction, dressed only in 
a demeaning school uniform...it was enough to make me long for the 
privacy of my bed.  I was sure the mental image I had of her would 
be good for half a dozen orgasms at the very least.  I had known 
Susan ever since school; one might say we were acquaintances and 
rivals at the same time.  We both came from the same background 
and moved in the same circles.  Of course Susan had always thought 
herself so superior to everyone, myself included. 
 
Once I learned what has happened to her I could think of nothing 
else but seeing her in her uniform.  It would be even better if 
she could see me and know that I knew of her downfall.  No one 
seemed to know about it, and I found out about it only by accident.
 
I had been out shopping on Saturday when I came across Hanna Rider. 
She had been in school with Susan and me, though she was not "one 
of us," so to speak, I let her hang out with me from time to time. 
Hanna was useful, finishing homework, completing assignments I 
could not be bothered with.  She had gone off to college, taking 
some job as a part time waitress to pay for her tuition.  I could 
only shudder at the idea of having to work in some sort of greasy spoon place.
 
Whatever I may have felt about Hanna, unlike Susan, I always made 
sure to keep my feelings well-hidden.  There is no need to 
antagonise people, and with Hanna so eager to fit in, I always 
figured she might have her uses even after school.  How true that 
was.  I saw her at the shopping mall and started to move off.  To 
be honest I was not really in the mood to deal with her, but, 
before I could get away, she saw me and dashed over.
 
There was nothing I could do but smile and make the best of it.  
Over a cup of coffee she told me all about how she had graduated 
and was now a nurse. 
 
"And I'm not just another nurse in a hospital," she told me in an 
excited voice.  "I am the resident nurse at the local reformatory."
 
Once I heard that, I really got interested, and of course once she 
got going, Hanna told me in a hushed tone all about Susan becoming 
a delinquent.  She was a bit vague on the charges that had landed 
Susan behind the reformatory walls.  Something about improper 
conduct and immoral behaviour, whatever that meant.
 
It took virtually no effort on my part to steer the conversation 
around to the sort of work that Hanna did.  As I expected she was 
delighted that I was taking an interest in her petty little 
existence.  After that I made sure she knew that I would be very 
interested in a visit to her reformatory to see the work she did 
there.
 
The little people are so easy to manipulate, you just have to know 
how to handle them.  This was something Susan had never managed to 
master, and, before Hanna and I parted company, she had agreed to 
get me on an approved visitors' list for next week.  It would not 
be a full tour, she quickly added, only the Headmaster, Mr. Winston 
could authorise that, but, I was sure once I got my foot in the 
door, I would find a way to see Susan.
 
I was on pins and needles with excitement the rest of the weekend.  After some discreet inquiries, I learned that none of our friends 
knew about Susan's fate.  It amazed me that a woman like Susan 
could be so quickly locked up with no one the wiser.  I suppose 
it made sense that her family would keep it quiet; I could only 
imagine the damage to her reputation if word got out.  I was 
tempted to tell the others, but, after some debate with myself, I 
kept quiet.  It was going to be my little secret, and if I told the 
others they would all want to visit and see her.  Where was the fun 
in sharing her downfall?  First I would savour her humiliation, and 
then perhaps I would let the others know. 
 
Finding the reformatory was far from easy.  It didn't show up on my 
Sat-Nav, and it was only with Hanna's directions that I managed to 
find the complex, encircled by tall, grim walls.  Above the main 
gate there was an old-fashioned crest, some words in what I 
presumed was Latin underneath what looked like an open book 
flanked by two canes.  It was all I could do not to rub my hands 
with glee and giggle like a girl when I saw that crest.  I was 
really here.  Soon I would get to rub that pretentious little 
prig's face in her shame.
 
Hanna was there to meet me, and I almost didn't recognise her, 
dressed as she was in a crisp white, knee-length dress that 
looked like it belonged to a nurse from the 1940s. with white 
stockings and a white cap atop her glossy black hair drawn up 
into a strict bun.  A navy cape draped over her shoulders to 
keep at bay the late autumn chill completed the outfit.
 
"Come along," she said once the usual pleasantries were done.  She 
even went so far as to take my arm.  "I will show you the nurse's 
station."  Normally I would have shaken her hand off, but there was 
something about the way she was dressed that gave her an air of 
authority.  Not to mention I did not want to fall out with her yet, 
for I still needed her to get me to Susan.
 
We hadn't gone far when I saw one of the classrooms.  The centre of 
the door was filled with small squares of clear-framed glass, and 
it afforded me a prefect view of what was going on inside.  My 
breath caught at the sight.  It was one thing to have heard rumours 
and stories, but to see it...well, that was something far, far 
better.
 
The classroom was filled with old-fashioned, sloped wooden desks, 
the sort that you see in a museum.  Even at a glance I could tell 
that the attached hard wooden benches were uncomfortable to sit on. 
There were twenty desks in all, each filled with a woman dressed 
in a parody of a school uniform.  White blouse, blue blazer, blue 
tie, short, pleated blue skirt, legs bare except for polished flat Mary-Jane style black shoes and white ankle socks.  Most of them 
had their hair tied up in braids or pig tails.  The few that didn't 
had short pageboy or pixie-style haircuts.
 
As I watched, I saw one girl ease out of her cramped desk and walk 
hesitantly to the teacher's desk at the front of the class.  The 
teacher, a strict-looking fellow in a tweed jacket and black 
academic gown, handed her a sheet of paper, and I saw her look 
down at the page with fear on her face, fear that was quickly 
replaced with relief as she took the page and scurried back to 
her desk.
 
Another student followed, only she was not so lucky.  A few tears 
actually began to trickle down her cheeks when she saw the mark 
there, but, without a word, she reached under her short skirt and 
drew down her snug white cotton panties.  She stepped out of them 
and folded them neatly before handing them over to the teacher.  
Then, to my amazement, she lifted the back of her short skirt and 
tucked it up into the skirt's waistband, leaving her bottom 
completely bare.  Her nudity was emphasised even more when she 
bent over to grip the edge of the teacher's desk, thrusting her 
bare bottom up and out. 
 
I never had a thing for other women, but there is something about 
the sight of a bare bottom bent over and waiting for its due that 
was beauty itself.  At the sight of those taut cheeks so exposed 
and vulnerable I felt a dampness begin to spread between my legs.
 
All the students in the class were given a clear view of her naked 
bottom for a few seconds before the teacher climbed from his chair 
and lifted a wicked-looking leather strap from a hanger on the 
wall.  I shivered at the sight of the instrument, but I did not 
have to imagine for long how much it would hurt.  The teacher took 
up position behind the girl, and, without any further ado, he 
proceeded to strap her with the leather until her bottom was 
glowing red.  I could almost feel the heat.  
 
Finally, after what seemed an eternity, the girl was allowed to 
straighten.  Stiffly she lowered the back of her skirt into place.  
It was so short it just about covered her bottom, and I noticed 
that the teacher made no move to return her knickers to her.
 
I cast a questioning look at Hanna, and she gave me a small, 
pleased smile.  "If a girl earns a leathering or stripes, she 
loses her panty privileges until the signs of her punishment 
have completely faded."
 
The girl was rubbing her bottom for all she was worth as she limped 
back to her desk.  I saw her wince as she eased her bottom onto 
that hard wooden bench.  I could almost feel sympathy for the 
girl.  Sitting there for the rest of the class after that dose of 
the strap must have been an ordeal.  Of course the woman was a 
delinquent, I reminded myself; she deserved everything she got. 
 
"Come along, Tabatha," Hanna summoned, and reluctantly I pulled my 
eyes away from the classroom.  Another girl was approaching the 
teacher's desk for her results, and I could see that the teacher 
had not replaced the strap on its hook.  It seemed he would be 
using it again before the class was over.
 
Hanna tugged on my arm, and I was left with no choice but to follow 
her or try to pull free of her grip.  I have to say I did not care 
for the way she kept hold of my arm just above my elbow.  Anyone 
who saw us would think that I was one of her charges.
 
I confess my heart skipped a beat at that realisation before I was 
able to calm myself.  Of course that was a ridiculous idea.  Anyone 
would recognise my designer suit, my bag all the way from Milan, my 
shoes from Paris, not to mention the string of expensive pearls 
around my throat and my diamond-and-gold watch.
 
"This place is a maze," I remarked as we made our way down one 
corridor after another.  In no time at all, I lost my bearings, 
and, without Hanna there, I felt sure I would never find my way 
back to the front entrance.
 
"It does take a bit of getting used to," she agreed.  She seemed 
to have no trouble navigating.  "The new students often earn 
themselves warm bottoms for being late for class because they 
claim they got lost."
 
"Still, a little taste from slipper or strap and the girls learn 
their way around real fast."  I could see Hanna smiling slightly 
as she spoke, and I shook my head.  Give someone from the lower 
classes a little power and it went straight to their heads.  Then 
it occurred to me how utterly humiliating it would be for Susan to 
be under the authority of Hanna, a girl she knew from school, a 
girl she always considered her social inferior.  How mortifying 
that would be, I could not even begin to imagine the full extent 
of her shame.
 
"The school has very good sports facilities," Hanna said, and, with 
a start, I realised that she had been droning on while my mind 
wandered.  I kept imagining Susan in that cute little uniform 
bending for the strap, but I could not help wondering what I would 
look like in that white blouse and short skirt.  Quit daydreaming, 
I thought to myself, and I did my best to look interested while 
keeping my eyes open for a glimpse of Susan. 
 
"We have an Olympic standard swimming pool," she told me, nodding 
vaguely down one corridor.  "And a gymnasium, as well as an outdoor 
running track." 
 
She stopped then, looked around to ensure there were no other 
staff members around, and beckoned me down another corridor.  
"Have a look," she said, barely above a whisper, as she pointed 
to a large double door ahead.
 
I opened the door just wide enough for me to poke my head in.  
Inside was a gymnasium complete with the usual vaulting horses, 
exercise bars, and benches.  My eyes were naturally drawn to 
the students.  I could not count how many there were, and, 
truth be told, I did not even try. 
 
"Oh, my...," I murmured before I clamped a hand over my mouth.  
The girls were bare as the day they were born.  Each and every 
one of them wore nothing but a fine coat of perspiration, and 
they were being put through what looked like jumping-jacks.  All 
I could see were heaving breasts and skin slick and glistening 
with sweat.  As their legs scissored open and closed, it was 
obvious that they were doubly naked -- each one of them having 
been shaved between the legs.  The girls were working their arms 
and legs for all they were worth, and, as we watched, I saw some 
of the less fit girls starting to flag.
 
They were not on their own.  I could see a lean woman, dressed in 
tee shirt and snug shorts, marching up and down the line of girls. 
Any who eased off without permission was given a quick series of 
strokes from the thin rod she held.  I could not see them being 
switched, but, even across the distance, I could make out the 
pained expressions, and, immediately, each of them was back 
keeping pace with the others.
 
Another group of girls was clambering up and down thick ropes 
suspended from the ceiling.  Under direction from the woman in 
charge, the naked girls wrapped their legs snugly around the ropes 
as they climbed up to the top and then slid down before starting 
to climb back up again.  I felt a delicious tingle in my groin when 
I imagined what it would feel like to slide down with the rope deep 
between my legs, rubbing against my sex as I slithered down its 
length.
 
"Ms. Dyke runs a tight ship," Hanna said, and I detected more than 
a little admiration in her voice.  Seeing my questioning look, she 
nodded to the woman barking orders at the girls.  "She took me 
under her wing when I started here."  I was not sure if Hanna even 
noticed what she was doing, but I certainly did.  As she looked at 
the gym, her eyes grew distant, and I saw her hands run down her 
ribs and over her hips.  "She showed me who I really was and...."
 
Suddenly her eyes snapped open, and I was pleased to see that there 
was a hint of red in her cheeks as she carefully looked away from 
the gym instructor.  
 
A whistle shrilled, and the girls immediately stopped what they 
were doing, and all of them padded barefoot to the centre of the 
gym and lined up at attention, feet together, arms at their sides, 
breasts shoved out.
 
"Now that you're nicely warmed up, it's time to hit the running 
track outside."  The gym mistress's voice rang with authority, 
and, shocked, I looked at Hanna as the line of naked girls was 
marched out the opposite door.
 
"Can you really send them outside?  It's SNOWING!" I asked in a 
half-whisper.
 
"Yes, that it is," Hanna replied.  She actually sounded pleased.  
"The wetness in their skin and hair is quite lovely.  And their 
nipples turn into little pebbles.  Of course a lot of them get 
the chills as the snow clings to their skin, sucking the warmth 
out of them, and their pretty little teeth chatter.  Keeps them 
moving, though, and we hardly have to use the switch on them at 
all...."  She flashed a smile in my direction, and then added, 
"Hardly."
 
"Don't the girls object to being made to exercise in the nude?" I 
asked as we moved off.  Rationally I knew that they were all grown 
women, the youngest would be eighteen while the oldest might be 
thirty-five, but I had a hard time viewing them as anything other 
than girls, especially with their crotches shaved bare. 
 
Hanna shrugged.  "They are convicted delinquents.  They lose the 
right to modesty when they are sent here." 
 
I could hardly believe it.  This was the girl who was so shy at 
school that she never liked changing in front of any of the other 
girls for sports.  And now she took it as completely normal that 
the delinquent students would be made to exercise naked.  I smiled 
again as I imagined Susan ordered to strip off and being made to 
run outside bare and vulnerable in the snow.  And, of course, if 
she got cold the sting of the switch would warm her up nicely.
 
"Here we are," Hanna told me proudly when we reached the nurses' 
station. 
 
I took my time looking around, hoping that Hanna would take it for 
interest.  Really it looked like any other small medical station, 
complete with examination tables and cabinets.  I felt a tremor 
between my legs at the sight of the exam table.  It boasted an 
impressive number of restraining straps, not to mention stirrups, 
that would allow for the most intimate of examinations.  For 
several minutes Hanna insisted on telling me about what this piece 
of equipment or that did.  Really, was she such a fool that she 
thought I was interested in her sad little life?  Seeing the 
common riffraff being put through their paces was a pleasant 
distraction, but I wanted to see Susan.
 
Finally, I could not take it any more.  Forcing a conspiratorial 
smile, I did my best I'm-your-friend-you-can-trust-me voice.  "Say, 
Hanna, can I see Susan?  Just for a second," I added quickly.  No 
need to push my luck just yet.
 
Instead of the acquiescence that I expected, Hanna frowned.  She 
looked nervous.  "I'm afraid I can't take you to that part of the 
reformatory."  She held her hands up to forestall my protests.  
"She's to be punished, you see.  I certified her fit for a caning 
earlier today."
 
My mouth went dry.  Susan was going to be caned!  That was 
something I had no intention of missing.  Whatever the cost, 
it would be worth it.  "Come on, Hanna, there must be some way.  
Can't you just sneak me in for a quick peek?  I won't make a 
fuss, I promise and...."  I took a calculated gamble and reached 
out to stroke her upper arm.  "I would be SO grateful," I said, 
almost purring.
 
There was a definite blush in Hanna's cheeks when I touched her 
arm.  So I had been right.  The way she had been looking at those 
naked girls exercising and at Ms. Dyke displayed more than strictly 
professional interest.  I always suspected she had a crush on me at 
school, and now it made her so much easier to manipulate.
 
"Well," she began, then looked around for a second before nodding 
slightly to herself.  "I can't get you in there as a visitor, but...."
 
"'But'?" I demanded, some of my impatience creeping into my voice. 
 
"Well, no one would notice you if you were dressed like another 
student but...."
 
I gave her a level look.  Dress like a student?  Dress like a 
delinquent?  I was horrified at the very idea (though a small 
part of me did wonder what I would look like dressed in the 
cute little uniform.  Besides, I was also wondering what it 
would feel like for Susan to be forced to strip off all her 
expensive designer gear.
 
"It's a crazy idea," Hanna said quickly.  "I could set up a fake 
inmate profile for you in the system, and you would blend in once 
you're in uniform, but I would have to shave you in case any of 
the teachers decided to do a panty inspection and...."  She shook 
her head.  "Like I said, it's a crazy idea."
 
Turning so I would not have to look at Hanna directly, I considered 
my options.  I really wanted to see Susan, especially if she was to 
be caned.  And I was intrigued with the idea of pretending to be a 
delinquent.  Yet it would mean that I would have to take off all my 
nice clothes...and Hanna mentioned shaving me?  My resolve wavered 
for a second, then I took a deep breath and turned back to face 
her.
 
"I'll do it."
 
She stared at me for a moment, as if she could not believe what I 
had just agreed to.  "Are you sure?" she asked in a hushed tone.  
Then, seeing my brief nod, she looked here and there, quickly 
determining that she would have everything she needed to pull off 
the deception.  Apparently satisfied, she nodded to herself.  
"Take off your clothes and hop on the table."
 
For a moment I hesitated, not sure if I should go ahead with it, 
but my desire to see Susan get her caning and to find out what 
exactly it was like to be a delinquent won out, and I quickly 
stripped off.  Hanna collected my clothes, and, after folding 
them, put them into a plastic bag.  She then quickly scribbled 
some words on the side of the bag with a felt pen.
 
My breathing was faster than usual, and I could feel my heart 
pounding as I got onto the table.  I tried to tell myself that 
this was just another medical exam, and Hanna was a nurse.  Only 
there was no hiding the look of aroused interest from her as she 
regarded my naked form.  Then she was at my side, and I felt the 
first of the leather restraints wrap around my right wrist.
 
"Hanna...."  I tried to sit up, but she pressed a hand on my chest, 
forcing me back down.  I am sure it was no accident that her hand 
came to rest over one of my breasts. 
 
"I have to; it's procedure.  If I don't fully secure you, and 
anyone comes in, there would be questions.  Both of us could 
get into serious trouble."
 
With some hesitation, I relented and settled back onto the table, 
allowing Hanna to fasten the padded medical restraints around both 
my wrists, my waist, and my ankles, once my feet were in the 
stirrups.  Then she produced a strap attached to a leather bit 
that she fitted into my mouth and locked to the side of the table. 
Not only could I not speak any more, but now my head was fixed in 
place.  It was frightening how fast she had tied me down, and my 
feeling of helplessness grew when she adjusted the stirrups and 
forced my legs farther apart...MUCH farther apart.  
 
With the bit in my mouth and my body secured, I could do nothing 
but try to think of something else as she shaved me.  When I felt 
the razor start to take away my curls, I began to wonder if this 
was a bad idea.  But it was too late to change my mind.  Humming 
to herself, she shaved me completely, and, in less than five 
minutes, I was baby-bare.
 
Once she was done with the razor, I thought she might free me, but 
instead she snapped on some latex gloves and began to rub some sort 
of pink cream over my groin.  Was she this thorough with all the 
girls, I wondered.  Not an inch escaped her attention, from the 
top of my mound, past the lips of my sex, and all the way around 
to my sphincter.  Then the burning started, and I could not hold 
back my tears as I moaned into the gag.
 
"Don't worry, its just a little re-growth inhibitor.  A few minutes 
and you'll never need to wax for a bikini again."  Hanna was 
grinning as she explained it to me; it was almost as if this was 
something I would thank her for.  I tried to tell her to get the 
damn stuff off me, but the bit silenced me and the medical 
restraints were proof against my efforts to pull free.  Then it 
hit me.  Had she said I would never need to wax?  Never?

It seemed forever that she just stood there, expressionless, humming tunelessly to herself and watching me writhe.  At last
she rinsed off the pink goo. 
 
As she was finishing, the phone rang, and she moved out of my sight 
to answer it.  A few minutes later she returned and leaned over me. 
"I have to pop out for a few minutes, but I'll be back."  She 
started to leave, then stopped to look over her shoulder at me.  
"Don't go away," she giggled.

		******************************


Part 2
 
I could not believe that she had left me like this.  I was 
completely naked with my hands trapped by my sides and my legs 
up in gynaecological stirrups so that anyone who came in would 
have a clear view of my shaved crotch.  There was not a thing I 
could do about it, and there was something a bit exciting about 
being so vulnerable and helpless.  Yet, if given a choice, I 
think it was an excitement I could have done without.
 
I could not see the clock from where I was lying, but I could hear 
it ticking, and, as each second passed and time stretched out, I 
wanted to scream.  Then I heard the door to the office open.
 
"Well, what do we have here?" a women's voice asked.  Wide-eyed, I 
tugged frantically at my bonds, but of course it was useless.  Then 
the woman stepped into view.  It was the instructor from the gym.
 
"I didn't know we had a new inmate being processed," she said as 
she ran her eyes up and down my body.  "Nice titties, a bit flabby 
about waist, but nice long legs...."  She sounded as if I was a 
piece of meat she was thinking of buying.  Then she leaned over, 
and, resting her hands between my legs, she directed her attention 
toward my hairless groin.
 
"Your first shave?" she asked, though she had to know that I could 
not reply.  Then I felt her fingers descend and stroke across my 
bare mound, now more sensitive than normal.  "So soft and smooth," 
she murmured as her fingertips trailed over my flesh.
 
"I like to make the girls do it themselves, but nothing's wrong 
with Nurse Rider having some job satisfaction."  Her fingers 
dipped lower, and I stiffened in my restraints as her fingers slid 
over the lips of my sex and slipped into me.
 
"A new fish, but already nice and wet," she murmured, and I tried 
to squeal a protest into my bit.  I could not be aroused by this, 
could I?  My heart was certainly pounding away.  I hated being this 
helpless, but it was...well...sort of exciting.  "I'm sure you will 
just love the gang showers.  The girls get off on playing with a 
new fish, once they're all wet and soapy.  I encourage them to help 
wash each other."  She paused to look me directly in the eye before 
adding, "Especially in those hard-to-reach places."
 
Whatever fear I might have felt was washed away as I felt her play 
with my clit.  I should have felt only revulsion, but instead I 
found that I was trying to lift my hips off the exam table.  My own 
wanton behaviour shocked me, but I did not stop trying to drive her 
teasing fingers deeper. 
 
The PE instructor could not have failed to notice my movement; she 
smiled and drew her fingers back a bit.  I arched my hips and back 
as much as my bonds would allow, trying desperately to get her to 
relieve the tension between my legs.  I had no idea what had come 
over me, but I wanted to cum, and she was teasing me instead of 
bringing me off.
 
"An eager little beaver," the woman remarked, and then, still 
smiling, she eased her fingers out of my slit and raised her 
glistening fingers to her nose where she sniffed my juices for 
a moment.  "You have to EARN rewards here, delinquent," she 
warned me in a harsher tone.  She wiped her slimy fingers 
underneath my nose, and I could smell my desperate need.  "You 
must earn your orgasms...." 
 
"Ms. Dyke...."  At the sound of Hanna's voice, I came to my senses 
and lay back flat on the table as the nurse swept into the room.  
She gave me a knowing look, and I blushed with embarrassment.  
What had come over me?  And how much had Hanna seen?
 
"Simmons here needs your attention," Ms. Dyke said, and, for the 
first time, I realised that she had not been on her own.  With her 
coppery red hair in two plaits an otherwise naked young woman was 
standing at attention while keeping her eyes on the floor.
 
"She was climbing the rope, and she kept wrapping her legs around 
it to snuggle as she slid up and down.  So she managed to get 
quite a friction burn."
 
Hanna clucked her tongue and gestured for the girl to sit on a 
second table near to me.  Once she was seated with her legs 
apart, I could see the burn between her legs.
 
"Now, girl, that was not a very smart thing to do," Hanna said 
absently as she moved to one of the cabinets to fetch some cream. 
 
"Simmons here just loves the feel of that thick rope between her 
legs," Ms. Dyke said as she leaned against the side of my table.  
She had her back to me, and all her attention seemed to be focused 
on Hanna and the Simmons girl, but her left hand began to stroke 
my shaved mound again, almost absently.
 
"Is that right?" Hanna demanded as she returned.
 
"Yes, ma'am," the girl replied in a soft voice.  I was surprised at 
her accent, for she sounded educated.  She glanced once at Ms. Dyke 
then swallowed hard.  "I like how it feels grinding up and down, up 
and down b-between my legs."  The girl sounded like she wanted to 
sink into the ground, but her expression brightened when she saw 
Ms. Dyke give her a pleased nod.
 
"Well, not to worry," Hanna told her.  "Nurse will kiss it all 
better."  Then to my utter amazement. Hanna, the geek who had 
been so shy and eager to please at school bent over and began 
to kiss the girl...there.  The delinquent closed her eyes, and 
I was not sure if it was from shame or arousal, perhaps both.  
Hanna did not spend long down between the girl's legs, certainly 
not long enough to bring her off, but the red-head was quite 
breathless when Hanna straightened and started to rub some 
soothing cream over the burn.
 
"And what do you say to the nice nurse who was so kind to you?" Ms. 
Dyke asked sharply when Hanna was finished.  
 
"Thank you, nurse," she said dutifully.  "Please, can I be your 
bed warmer tonight?"
 
"We'll see," Hanna replied almost affectionately as she patted the 
girl's face.  "Now run along.  You don't want to be late for 
class."  As the girl passed Hanna, sweet naïve Hanna slapped her 
sharply on her bare bottom.
 
Ms. Dyke finally stopped her terrible fingering that had my blood 
on fire with the need to cum and pushed away from the side of my 
table.  She glanced down at me with a predatory grin.  "Don't 
worry about that flab," she said gesturing.  "I'll soon 'whip' 
you into shape."  Behind my gag I fumed.  I was NOT fat!
 
She nodded briefly to Hanna, and, with another slap to Simmons's 
bare bottom, she left the room.
 
"Well, that was a near-miss," Hanna said.  "I must say you played 
along very nicely."  There was more than a hint of innuendo in her 
voice.  She glanced between my legs and grinned as she saw the 
signs of my arousal.  "Very convincing." 
 
I did not know what to say.  I had no idea what had come over me, 
but feeling helpless like that, totally at the mercy of a woman 
who was willing and able to play with my body like a violin had 
been unlike anything I had ever experienced.  All the same, I was 
more than happy when she freed me from the restraints.  For a 
moment I considered demanding my clothes back and leaving.  Then 
I calmed down and realised that it would be stupid to come so far 
and go through so much only to turn back at this stage.
 
"Now, lets get you into the shower," Hanna said as she gestured to 
the cubicle off in the corner.  "Unless you want to try out the 
gang showers," she added mischievously.
 
"Can't I just get dressed now?" I asked.  I felt SO self-conscious 
standing there naked and freshly shaved while she appeared so 
formidable in her spotless uniform.  It was so easy for me to 
imagine that I really was just another delinquent here, naked 
until my betters let me dress and so anxious to make a good 
impression that I would do anything to please.  It was both a 
frightening and an exhilarating sensation.
 
"No, silly, we have to scrub off that expensive perfume.  If you 
are going to pass as a delinquent, you need to smell of carbolic 
soap, not some expensive scent that probably cost more that the 
staff here make in a month."  Was there a hint of envy in her 
voice?  I scrambled into the shower before I could find out and 
almost jumped out again when I felt the cold water fall on my 
naked body.  Hanna grinned at my discomfort, then handed me a 
foul-smelling soap that I obediently lathered up with.  At least 
I got a chance to wash away any trace of my earlier arousal.
 
"I do love the wet look," Hanna murmured as I stepped out of the 
shower dripping wet.  She held a small towel just out of my reach 
for a minute or two as she ran her eyes over my wet, nude body -- 
as if she had not seen all I had while I was in the stirrups.  
Finally she extended the towel to me.
 
I dried myself and then received my uniform.  At the sight of the 
crisp outfit, I felt a familiar tingling between my legs, but, with 
some effort, I kept my hands folded across my stomach instead of 
investigating that growing itch that I wanted so badly to scratch. 
 
There was no bra, just a simple vest that completely failed to 
contain my breasts.  I had always liked the fact that I was more 
generously endowed than Susan, but right then, without a bra, I 
felt she might have the advantage.  The white cotton panties were 
more than snug.  I was sure they were a size too small for me, but 
at least I was not totally naked anymore.  White blouse and rep tie 
followed, and then the blue skirt.  It hugged my hips, and I was 
conscious of the fact that it was short enough that, if I bent 
over, I would risk showing off my new drum-tight panties.  Last 
came the juvenile white ankle socks and mary-jane shoes.
 
"No need for the blazer," Hanna told me as she regarded me with a 
satisfied expression.  She ducked behind me and started to braid 
my hair into two plaits.  I tried to fend her off until she asked 
if I wanted a pageboy hair-cut instead.  When I saw my reflection  
in the mirror, I barely recognised myself.  Stripped of my 
expensive designer gear and jewellery and clad in the humiliating 
uniform, I looked like a nervous schoolgirl.  The two plaits only 
added to the image of me as a frightened delinquent rather that 
the rich and privileged young woman I had appeared when I first 
arrived. 
 
My hands kept trying to tug down my short skirt, and I was not 
sure the buttons of my blouse would contain my breasts.  Like the 
panties, the blouse seemed a size too small, but it did look nice, 
crisp and clean and innocent-looking.  With a start I realised that 
I was chewing on my lips.  I had not done that since I was a very 
little girl and then only when I was in trouble.
 
Before we could go, Hanna insisted on photographing me for my 
'official record' as she called it.  Leaning over her shoulder, 
I saw her enter my details in a small computer.  The fact that 
she already knew my measurements was a bit worrying, but I made 
sure that the release date on my official record was today.  
Playing the delinquent was all well and good, and I had both 
enjoyed and been shocked by Ms. Dyke's attentions.  My tight 
knickers were even a bit damp...actually, more than a bit.  But 
I had no wish to stay here long-term.
 
Finally we were off, though I noticed that my stride was far more 
hesitant now.  Before I had nearly pulled away several times from 
Hanna's grip on my arm, but now that I was dressed like a 
delinquent, I felt great reassurance from her presence.  She was 
the only one who knew I was not a real delinquent.  As long as she 
had her grip on my arm, I felt oddly safe.
 
The open square was not what I had expected, but it seemed that 
the reformatory was built around an open lawn with an old worn 
stone path crossing it.  It reminded me a bit of some of the old 
universities I had seen, but they didn't have punishment frames 
on their lawns.
 
At the sight of the frames I felt all my hesitations vanish.  
Everything I had done to get here was worth it.  The frames 
themselves were simple, with two upright posts joined at the top  
by a horizontal beam.  It looked a bit like a hitching post from 
a western movie.  The only apparent difference was that the 
horizontal cross-piece was about waist-high...a girl's waist.  
 
And there was Susan.  She was bent over one of the frames, with her 
wrists secured to the bottoms of the two uprights and her ankles 
bound beside her wrists.  The position left her bottom thrust 
obscenely into the air.  Like the girl in the classroom, her short 
skirt had been drawn up and tucked into the back of her waistband. 
 
Not only was her bottom completely exposed, but there was no sign 
of any panties.  With her legs spread so, I had an excellent view 
of her entire, hairless crotch, from the puckered brown hole of 
her arsehole to the puffy, inflamed lips of her sex.  I've never 
spent much time admiring naked women, but I was pleased to see that 
she had been shaved, and, without her big girl curls, her privates 
were no longer private.  Any passerby had as good a view of her 
groin as her gynaecologist.
 
"You see, Tabby," Hanna said as we got closer.  "Little Suzie here 
has been a very naughty delinquent." 
 
I was torn between smiling and scowling.  Susan had always hated 
being called Suzie, but I was none too fond of being called Tabby, 
either.  There was no response from Suzie.  "So I want you to take 
a good long look at what happens to naughty delinquents here."
 
For some time, I admired the view from the rear, taking in the 
taut bottom cheeks pulled nice and tight from the way she was 
bent over.  And the way the frame pulled her legs apart, leaving 
the muscles of her thighs straining...I nearly orgasmed just 
looking at it.  I could see students and teachers coming and 
going.  The square looked to be a short cut between the various 
wings of the reformatory.  There would be a constant stream of 
traffic passing Suzie, seeing her in all her glory.  How long had 
she been bent over like this, her shaved crotch so very exposed to 
anyone who cared to look?  Just wondering was making me feel wet, 
and my hand crept over to press my short skirt against my groin.
 
Finally, I could not hold back any longer, and I moved around the 
frame so that I could see Suzie's face.  Her head was near the 
ground, but at the sight of my feet she looked up as best she 
could, and I gasped.  No wonder she was so quiet, she was holding 
a cane between her teeth.
 
"Little Suzie was found playing with herself," Hanna explained as 
she moved to stand beside me.  "She's developed quite a sticky 
finger since she joined us, but our Headmaster has a special 
interest in her, and she knows that she is not supposed to fiddle 
that wet little clam without permission."
 
There was recognition in those eyes for Hanna but not for me.  That 
was enough; I was able to savour the mortification in her eyes, the 
shame etched on her face as she looked up mutely at Hanna.  Susan 
did not look so powerful any more.  It was too bad I had to leave 
my phone behind in Hanna's office; I would have loved a photograph. 
I would just have to memorise that look of embarrassment. 
 
As I watched her, I frowned ever so slightly.  There was something 
about her expression, acute embarrassment, yes, but there was 
something more....  Could it be...excitment?  The more I studied 
her, the more I became certain that, as much Suzie hated being 
displayed like this, she was thrilled at the same time.
 
"And what do we have here?" a male voice demanded, and I spun 
around to find myself facing a middle-aged man who wore authority 
like a second skin.  He gave a brief nod to Hanna, and then those 
knowing eyes settled on me.  Under his gaze I really felt like a 
nervous schoolgirl who was in trouble, and, as if they had a will 
of their own, my fingers tugged at the hemline of my short skirt 
again.  With some effort I took hold of myself, but the moment I 
lost concentration I found myself nervously playing with the end 
of one of my plaits.
 
"This is Tabatha, Mr. Winston," I heard Hanna explain.  "She is a 
new arrival, and I was just showing her what happens to naughty 
little delinquents."
 
"Tabatha?"  I heard the hint of a question in his voice.  "Tabatha? 
I don't remember any new arrivals scheduled for today."  Then he 
shrugged.  "I will check the records later.  And how is Tabatha 
doing?"
 
A sly smile spread across Hanna's face.  "I thought she should 
answer to 'Tabby.'  I had a lovely little cat called Tabby when 
I was younger."
 
I shot Hanna a dark look, but I saw a pleased smile cross over Mr. 
Winston's face.  "What a lovely little name for a pretty little 
pussy.  And how is little Tabby responding to seeing Suzie?"
 
"She seems quite taken with the girl," Hanna answered again with a 
strong hint of wicked innuendo in her voice. 
 
I glanced down at Suzie and saw that she was staring up at me, 
looking slightly confused.  Her expression was distorted with 
the cane in her mouth, but I could see the wheels turning in her 
head.  Tabatha was an uncommon name.  Then her eyes widened, and 
I let a small smile form on my lips.  She knew who I was, and she 
had to know that soon it would be the talk of the town: how she 
was bent over, exposing herself, while waiting to receive a good 
hard caning on her bare bottom.
 
"So I see," the Headmaster said.  I looked back at him and saw a 
dark gleam had crept into those penetrating eyes.  "So Tabby likes 
seeing a fellow delinquent waiting for her caning does she?"  He 
glanced at Hanna and then nodded.  He had reached some sort of 
decision, and for some reason I shivered. 
 
"Well, perhaps she should join little Suzie.  We can cane two 
strumpets just as easily as one."
 
I felt the blood drain from my face, and I glanced down at Suzie's 
bare bottom.  I opened my mouth to protest, then hesitated.  I had 
to do something, or there would be two striped bottoms here.  There 
were plenty of empty punishment frames around to accommodate me. 
But I couldn't tell him who I really was.  Hanna had been clear on 
that.  I would be in serious trouble if I were found out.  I did 
not know how serious, but I had a sudden fear that this uniform 
might be a lot more permanent if I was not careful.
 
"Please, sir," I cried out, doing the best curtsy that I knew.  "I 
will be a good girl.  Please don't cane me.  I just want to follow 
the rules and stay out of trouble and serve my time."  I even 
managed a little quiver in my voice.  I hoped it was enough.
 
"And you will be a REALLY good girl once your bottom has had a few 
stripes, and you know what happens if you are naughty."
 
I swallowed again.  "But, sir, I've not done anything wrong.  
Please don't...."
 
He silenced me with a single raised finger.  "Tabby, this is an 
important lesson for you.  Here if a member of staff decides you 
are to be caned, you will be caned.  If they want you strapped, 
you will be strapped.  If we say you were naughty you will only 
earn extra punishment if you try to argue.  The proper response 
is, 'Thank you, sir, for correcting me.'"
 
I looked over at Hanna, but a glance told me she either would not 
or could not help.  I thought at first she was unable to intervene, 
but there was a hunger in her eyes, something that suggested she 
was not at all disappointed by this turn of events.
 
"I am waiting, delinquent," the Headmaster warned.  "I was going 
to give you six, but you've just earned yourself a baker's dozen."
 
A baker's dozen?  I had no idea what that was, but it did not sound 
good.  I closed my eyes for a second.  I had to go along with this. 
"Thank you, sir, for correcting me."
 
He flashed a smile at me.  "Good, now hand over your knickers.  
And, since you seem so friendly with little Suzie here. you can 
take the frame next to her."  He glanced at Hanna.  "Be a dear 
and fetch me another cane."
 
My hands were shaking as I reached under my short skirt and eased 
down the snug panties.  A cool breeze blew under my skirt and over 
my hairless slit as I stepped out of the knickers and handed them 
over.  The skirt still covered me, more or less, but I felt so 
very exposed.
 
That was nothing compared to the feelings of vulnerability that 
surged through me as I moved over to the frame nearest Suzie's 
and bent over it.  The moment I did I could feel the skirt ride 
up my bare thighs, and I was sure that some of my bottom was now 
exposed.  Mr. Winston was there an instant later, and he quickly 
fastened each of my wrists to the bottom of the posts. 
 
Then he moved behind and guided my legs apart, taking the time to 
run his hands down the backs of my bare legs to my ankle socks.  
"Such lovely, silky-smooth skin," he murmured as he fastened the 
leather strap around my ankle.  "Someone was used to the finer 
things in life, I think."  Then my other ankle was bound in place, 
and I felt his fingers at the hem of my skirt.  A moment later 
there was no doubt about the breeze.  I could feel it caressing my 
upraised bottom as the skirt was tucked into the waistband.
 
I don't think I had ever felt quite so exposed and vulnerable.  
And yet, mingled with the terrible fear, there was also a strange 
excitement.  I glanced to my left and saw that Suzie was gazing 
over at me with a smug look of satisfaction.  I had come here to 
see her being caned, and now it looked like SHE might see ME 
squirm under the rod.  How could things have gone so wrong?
 
"Here you go," I stared up at Hanna, who had returned and was 
holding out a cane.  I stared at it for a second, not 
understanding what she meant.
 
"You put it in your mouth, Tabby," she explained as if to a very 
dense child.  "And you'd better hold it there," she warned me.  
I opened my mouth to accept the thin wooden rod.
 
I nearly spat it out an instant later when I felt Mr. Winston's 
hands caress my upturned bottom.  They felt oddly rough, as if 
he had spent time doing some manual labor, long enough to develop 
calluses.
 
"If you drop the cane, your punishment is doubled," Hanna told me, 
matter-of-factly.  I clamped down hard on the cane.  It didn't 
matter how it tasted, I did not want to drop it.
 
"Do you want pizza?" I heard Mr. Winston ask Hanna, and, even with 
the cane firmly between my teeth, I looked up as best I could.  
They were talking about pizza?  Now?
 
"We always get a substantial discount if the delivery boy gets a 
good gawk," he went on.  I wonder if we could get a totally free 
pizza if we let him get a prolonged feel at two delinquent 
strumpets?"
 
"Only one way to find out, sir," Hanna replied, and I squealed into 
the cane that effectively gagged me.  How could she be going along 
with this?  Then it occurred to me.  Delivery boys passed this way. 
I thought Hanna had said this was the most secure part of the 
facility, one she could not get me into unless I went disguised 
as another delinquent.
 
"Oh, one other thing, sir," Hanna said almost absently.  "I noticed 
Tabby's record says she is to serve a single day's sentence."
 
"That can't be right," Mr. Winston replied.  "Minimum sentence for 
a delinquent is a year.  Must be a mistake.  I'll fix it once I 
get back to the office.  Has she had her contraband check?"
 
"Not yet, sir," Hanna replied.  "I know how you like to handle 
those searches personally."
 
"You are a treasure, Nurse Rider," he told her.  "A real treasure.  
I think we will have to be extra vigilant with this one.  No 
telling what contraband she might be hiding in that juicy, wet 
twat.  And, as for her blow hole, I just love working with a tight 
little virgin arse."
 
"A cherry that could do with popping," Hanna agreed, and I felt my 
bottom checks clench and unclench uncontrollably. 
 
I heard, rather that saw, him head off once he was finished getting 
a good grope of my bottom.  Looking up while bent over was hard. 
but somehow I managed to arch my neck enough to stare up at Hanna 
with a mixture of spiteful accusation and a plea for mercy.  I 
could feel the leather straps biting into the skin of my wrists, 
but that was going to be nothing compared to the pain of the cane 
assaulting my bare arse.  Only Hanna could save me.
 
One look into her eyes, and I felt my heart sink.  The innocent 
look slipped away, and Hanna transformed before me.  Her lips 
thinned, her eyes narrowed, and, in that uniform, she looked 
almost as authoritative as Ms. Dyke. 
 
"When little Suzie joined us, I was happy, but then I got to 
thinking how much nicer it would be if I had BOTH my old school 
friends here.  Did you really think I never noticed the way you 
looked down your nose at me, just because I didn't have a trust 
fund?"
 
Not wanting to drop the cane, even now I could only shake my head 
as my wide eyes pleaded for mercy. 
 
"I'm afraid I won't be able to help you do your homework anymore, 
and Ms. Dyke doesn't like shirkers.  She wants them...how does she 
put it?"  She thought for a second and then those thin lips curled 
up into a smile.  "Oh, yes.  Fit and trim.  As well as obedient."
 
Then it was her turn to move behind me to fondle my bare bottom.  
"But don't worry.  If you're a good girl I'll kiss your stripes 
better for you."  She patted my ass like one would a good dog.  
"But only if you are a VERY good little girl for me."
 
She straightened, and, with my head between my legs, I saw her 
start to leave.  "Don't forget to hold onto the cane," she advised. 
"I think pepperoni will go down nicely.  That pizza boy is working 
his way through college, you know.  He deserves a little treat."
 
Then she was gone, and I was alone with Suzie.  I felt tears 
trickle down my face, and I was sure that I was going to pee 
any time now.  I was going to be caned, and sometime today a 
geeky college boy was going to get a good grope at me just so 
that the staff could get some free pizza.  Worse was the fact 
that I was pretty sure it would be a year -- at least -- before 
I saw the outside world.
 
A year of reformatory discipline?   Despite a torrent of emotions 
running through me, one question stood out.  Just how good a girl 
would I have to be to earn Hanna's kisses?  



Edited by C. Lakewood