Chapter 7
It was the start of Candy Winston's second week, and she was wondering how she could get through the summer. Just once, on Sunday, her aunt had taken her into town in the latter's little Rambler, and it was just appalling how little was offered. No nice shops like back in Chicago, just a restaurant, a little movie theater that looked rundown, a farm equipment and animal feed supply store, a general department store with dime-store merchandising, a couple of saloons, the Sheriffs office and jail all in one building, a barber and a drug store and a service station. That was just about all you could see on the main street of Kentley. And judging from the marquee of the movie house, they were showing a different picture only once a week, and it was at least three or four years old.
Jennifer Danton didn't fail to recognize the symptoms of utter annoyance and boredom which her lovely niece exhibited during that ride. She parked the Rambler in front of the department store, and Candy accompanied her. Across the street, stout Ted Hawkins stood on the sidewalk outside of his office, scratching his head and staring with great curiosity at the two women. By God, there was a real nice sweet piece of cunt, that was! He liked the way she had her dark-brown hair set, in a long pageboy with the curls turned under. He'd just love to twist his fingers in that nice soft silky hair and drag that sweet bitch off to a cell for a licking and a shagging! Wonder who she was, anyhow? Maybe one of the new pupils. It was a funny thing, that just about all the girls in the damn school of Jennifer Danton's were lookers. Why, by God, you'd think the woman was starting up a whorehouse with all those sweet bimbos!
That was a thought which was to fester like a wound in Sheriff Ted Hawkins' mind until something would be done about it, something that was going to have a great deal to do with the future of Jennifer Danton and her beautiful niece Candy.
When the two women came out of the store laden with their purchases, Candy noticed the grinning face of the paunchy lawman, because he was still there, hands on hips, rolling a cigar from one corner of his mouth to the other, staring greedily. "Who's that man, Aunt Jennifer?" she wanted to know.
Jennifer Danton glanced across the street and then her face congealed. "That happens to be the sheriff of this county, Candy. He's a very vulgar, coarse man. Try not to do anything to annoy him or get him prying. I'd be just as happy if he'd retire or drop dead, if you want the truth."
Candy Winston, though a prick teaser, knew the facts of life and she could also understand something about the feminine nature. There was something bitter in Aunt Jennifer's remark just then, and she rightly ascribed it-with a burst of feminine intuition-to the fact that very likely the Sheriff had the hots for her aunt and of course her aunt wouldn't have anything to do with him. But she kept that counsel to herself, which was probably just as well. Because her aunt was beginning to look for an excuse to initiate Candy into the lore and rituals of corporal chastisement. The more she saw her niece's charms, the more her eyes glittered with the desire to see that insolently round full bottom unveiled and squirming and reddening under the strokes of a good hard thick strap or the flat back of a wooden hairbrush.
At the same time, she admitted to herself that she was beginning to feel a passionate urge to cuddle Candy in bed with her, for her lesbian desires had of course at once been smitten by the sight of her beautifully ripe-figured niece, the soft creamy skin, the tantalizing heart-shaped face and the knowledge that Candy was still a virgin ... that piece of news she had had from her own sister when the two of them had talked about the prospect of sending Candy here for the summer. But because she knew her sister and despised her, Jennifer Danton believed that Candy Winston must have inherited the nymph-like qualities which her sister had always been plagued with, and that it wouldn't take much to make Candy a perfect little slut. Well, if the little bitch was a virgin after all this time, then it was high time that something was done about it, something that wouldn't corrupt her and turn her over to selfish, unfeeling men. Jennifer Danton was quite confident that she could give Candy Winston all the passionate sex that little bitch could ever desire. And her own experience had taught her that after a girl has been well thrashed and her bottom is burning and she is afraid of her executioner, she is in exactly the mood of humility required for submission to the sexual yearnings of that same executioner.
[[[ IMAGE 07 ]]]
So far as lesbianism in the school was concerned, Jennifer Danton and her two aids Delia Henshaw and Lucille Emory (both of which attractive mature women were themselves addicted to the tender passions of Bilitis) had agreed that only their "favorites" would be permitted the clandestine joys of pussyrubbing and gamahuching. Indeed, discovery of those forbidden intimacies offered such an ideal pretext for sentencing the naughty culprit to a good whipping down in the basement that they had already issued an edict which only hinted at the crime. In a word, it informed all the residents and pupils of the school that all lights were to be out at ten-thirty, and that every girl in the school could expect a monitor to make a bed check at any unexpected time. The implication was simply that a girl had better not be caught loving up another girl in bed when the monitor entered the room for the bed check-or else!
Adele Corley and Patsy Brogan had already been severely punished, Delia Henshaw having dealt with the charming coppery-haired fifteen-year-old Patsy. She had postponed the pretty teenager's punishment for an entire week, and only last night had summoned the trembling youngster to her room. There, clad in just a nightie and her bathrobe and slippers, auburn-haired, buxom Delia had lectured Patsy till the latter had fervently prayed to be able to sink through the floor or turn invisible, nei ther of which miracles occurred. Then she had told Patsy that it was only because of the girl's youth and the fact that it was her very first time at being naughty in this forbidden way that she was being spared the ignominity of being chastised in public before the entire school-a chastisement which, needless to say, occurred on several occasions simply to impress all the other girls with the danger of what might happen to them if they transgressed the rules of this unique institution.
Patsy Brogan was sufficiently cowed and terrified by this remark, and implored Delia Henshaw to punish her in private instead, sobbing that she would be very good and very brave it only Miss Henshaw would not let the other girls know or have her spanked in public. That was precisely what Delia wanted her to say, and the next order was for Patsy to remove her nightie and to turn herself over Delia Henshaw's lap ready for spanking. It was a long and painful, but voluptuous, spanking which the charming girl received. It began by hand, and it was prolonged because almost after every spank, Delia's palm rested caressingly on the quivering, tawny-sheened, saucily oval asscheeks of the whimpering culprit.
After that, poor Patsy was condemned to kneel on a straight-backed chair and then bend well over, after which Delia tied the girl's wrists to the vertical slats at the back of the chair. Stark-naked, her pretty behind already flaming from the handspanking, Patsy begged for mercy, promising she would never do it again. Delia then removed her bathrobe and, in a gauzy white nylon nightie, approached the weeping youngster, circled her left arm around Patsy's satiny and slim waist, and began to apply vigorous, noisy smacks with a wooden ruler, commanding the sobbing girl to count out each spank.
After thirty "officially counted-out spanks" (plus a good many extras because Patsy's sobs and pleads and wails interfered with her keeping accurate count of the spanking), the auburn-haired instructress then sternly demanded if Patsy thought she could be a good girl from now on.
Patsy went down on her knees, clasping her hands in prayer, to the beautiful, sensual dominatress, abjectly pledging that she would never be naughty again. But Delia Henshaw shook her head and pretended to be uncertain as to Patsy's good intentions: "I've really let you off too lightly, you naughty girl," she scolded. "And so, I'm afraid I'm going to have to give you a last little dose. How severe it is, Patsy, will depend entirely upon your humility and submission. Now it's that or a good sound caning over the vaulting horse before the entire school down in the basement."
Faced with this threat, Patsy naturally and piteously implored the mercy of the lesser evil of the two, and Delia Henshaw was only too happy to grant that anguished request. Accordingly, she had poor Patsy stretch out on the bed but this time lying on her back. Then she proceeded to spread-eagle the girl, tying her wrists and ankles with cords, which frightened the pretty youngster into a desperate and distraught query as to what was to be done to her.
Delia Henshaw said nothing, but took a metal letter-opener, and, sitting on the edge of the bed, amused herself for a few minutes by taking the broad handle of the letter-opener against her left thumb pad with the point securely held between right thumb and forefinger, then letting fly and smacking poor Patsy's inner thighs. It wasn't long before Patsy Brogan was wailing and sobbing dolefully and pleading for mercy. Her titties received about a dozen smacks, and then Delia Henshaw, her eyes flaming, huskily murmured, "Now then, you wicked little nymph, I think it's only appropriate to punish the part of you which got you into trouble. Get yourself ready for a lot of good hard stinging flicks, Patsy!"
With this, she directed the letter-opener against Patsy's dainty cunthole, and the girl's eyes widened with horrified incredulity: "Ohh, Miss Henshaw, not there, not on my spot, please don't!"
"No, you've been a very wicked little sinner, Patsy, and I must be cruel to be kind so that you won't ever do that again with girls like Adele," the auburn-haired instructress purred. Then, drawing back the handle of the letter opener, she let it fly with a stinging Thwack right against the tender pink cunthole, and Patsy's naked body arched and jerked and wriggled madly, while Delia Henshaw's eyes flamed with glowing lust. Once again she applied the letter-opener towards the tenderest nook of all, and Patsy broke down and hysterically implored mercy, saying that she would do just anything to stop her punishment.
That was what Delia Henshaw had been waiting for. Pulling off her nightie and standing in all her buxom naked beauty, she mounted on the bed and began to caress the weeping girl's tearstained face, her hands roving that lovely supple nubile body. And soon she was mounted over the spread-eagled teenager, grinding her plump, thickly fleeced pussy against Patsy's dainty cleft, her fingers gripping Patsy's burning, throbbing asscheeks, her mouth sucking the young girl's as she taught the latter the difference between mature lesbian love and the fumbling, stealthy gropings with which adolescents attempt to imitate the sweet sisters of Lesbos....
But Jennifer Danton was facing a problem of which Candy Winston knew nothing, and it was a matter of finances. Over the past year and a half, the enrollment of the school had dropped off, and already Jennifer Danton had received a dozen letters from relatives indicating that they would no longer pay the tuition and board of their nieces or wards, beginning with the fall term. Hence by September, Jennifer Danton faced a cut of at least half of her expected revenue, and in order to maintain the salaries of Delia Henshaw and Lucille Emory as well as the expenses attendant upon running such an institution, she was greatly worried how she was going to manage.
Of her older girls, between the ages of seventeen and nineteen, there were at least four who had been sent there to get them away from love affairs. Also, these four were not virgins. And this evening, well after Candy had gone to bed and dreamed that she was back in Chicago dating handsome boys whom she was driving to distraction with her prick teasing ways, Jennifer Danton, Delia Henshaw and Lucille Emory met in the dominatress' private office to discuss ways and means of averting this financial disaster. "There's one way I know, but it's risky," she told Delia and Lucille.
"What's that, Miss Danton?" Delia respectfully asked.
"Well, we have some of our older students who aren't exactly pure little virgins, as you well know. We've kept an eye on them all through the semester, and they're just a little restless. Like my niece, they'd like nothing better than to be turned loose around a flock of panting young men, because they're bored to tears. Well, they might be interested in helping us earn some money and some for themselves."
"You mean prostitution?" Lucille Emory gasped.
"Of course. But most discreet, mind you. As it happens, I have a source of clientele, the names and addresses and phone numbers of about a dozen extremely trustworthy men and women. Oh yes, Delia and Lucille, women are quite willing to pay for their pleasures just like men, provided they find precisely the right partner. And I am sure that both of you know many of our girls are extremely talented with their own sex."
Both attractive instructresses exchanged a glowing smile, then nodded. "It would be a sort of assignation, you see," the head of the school went on. "I'd approach these people by phone, tell them what they might expect and what the price would be, and then we'd make arrangements."
"But wouldn't strangers coming to Kentley attract attention, Miss Danton?" Lucille Emory anxiously asked.
[[[ IMAGE 08 ]]]
"We have about three rooms here that could very easily and quickly be transformed into pleasure salons," Candy's aunt at once replied. "Our visitors could stay here, and no one would be the wiser. And of course our girls would know enough to keep their mouths shut, because as it happens all of them have very distant relatives who don't really care about them except to keep them out of sight and mind, and they're getting pretty restless. They would only too happy to get some nice spending money in return for a little fun in bed."
"You're thinking of Jane Dolliver, I suppose," Lucille Emory said.
"Yes, and of Peggy Allanby, Coralie Young and Maxine Stourch. Jane and Peggy are both nineteen, and Coralie and Maxine are eighteen each. That's the legal age of consent, of course. So there wouldn't be any contributing to the delinquency of the minor involved. I wouldn't think of letting the younger girls be used for something like this, not even with women. That would really be too risky. Besides, Jane, Peggy, Coralie and Maxine have already had sexual experience, as we all know because we interviewed them when they came to this school. And all of them have also found out what punishment is here for being naughty. You will recall that only last semester Jane and Coralie were whipped together because they were caught in bed in a very compromising situation. Peggy is a little daydreamer and whisperer in class, and she's often been spanked by you, Lucille. And I myself know exactly what a potentially impulsive little bitch Maxine is, because I've had occasion to spank her myself and more than once.
"It could be a solution," Lucille said hopefully.
"Yes it could. Of course we're going to have to approach these girls and take them into our confidence, but woe betide them if they dare blab to any of the other girls."
"What prices would you charge?"
"Nothing less than a hundred dollars an evening. And for those who enjoy spanking of their partners, that would be at least another hundred," Jennifer Danton firmly declared. "I can foresee that with my dozen prospects, we might be able to make as much as a thousand dollars or more a week for at least two or three months. These friends have other friends who are just as trustworthy and just as wealthy. But we'd take care that no more than two or three visitors, as we shall call them, shall be at the school at any one time."
"Well, I'm not so sure it isn't dangerous, but I can certainly use my back pay, Miss Danton," Delia Henshaw giggled. She came over to Candy's aunt and then suddenly put her arms around the sternfaced spinster and kissed her hard on the mouth, murmuring, "Will you come to my room tonight, darling?"
"No, you jealous little minx, but I'll come to yours and you can just get your big bottom ready for a spanking!" Jennifer Danton scolded. "The idea, doing that in front of Lucille when you know how jealous she is." Then, aloud, she announced to the fuming light-brown-haired instructress, "Delia has just earned herself a good sound spanking tonight, Lucille. But when I finish with it, I'll see you in your room at midnight."
The two beauties looked at each other, and then blushed as Jennifer Danton rose, autocratic as ever, and left her private office to supervise the meal that would be prepared for all her pupils. A fat German woman, Mrs. Riedling, was in charge of the kitchen and was a marvel in preparing tasty meals at extremely low cost. She had once been a private tutoress back in Berlin, and she knew how to spank a girl. On special occasions when the offense had been very grave, Jennifer Danton used her as an executioner for public whippings before the entire school....
At ten-thirty, Jennifer Danton knocked peremptorily at Delia Henshaw's door, and the auburn-haired instructress stammered,"-come in, M-Miss Danton!"
The door opened, was closed and then locked. Jennifer Danton wore a black silk dressing gown under which she had only the sheerest of black nylon slips, and her boots. Auburn-haired, ripely curved Delia Henshaw awaited her, very much like a naughtly little girl who was about to be summoned for a spanking-which was after all what she was about to re ceive. The twenty-nine-year-old instructress wore a shortie nightie, of white nylon and extremely transparent, and fluffy blue mules. She had combed out her auburn hair and it shimmered about her shoulders and neck, enhancing her attractive features and making her look even more youthful.
"I-I'm awfully sorry I was so naughty in your office, Mistress," Delia murmured propitiatingly as she got down on her knees, clasped her hands as if in prayer and bowed her head before the imperious dominatress.
"You should be. You know I don't care to show favoritism to either you or to Lucille. Besides, you've had this spanking coming for some little time. Maybe it will teach you not to be quite so lenient with your own girls. The spanking you gave Patsy, by the way, was really very lenient, except for that last naughty little finale of yours-oh yes, I had Patsy in my room the next night and she had to confess everything."
"Oh goodness!" Delia's face turned a flaming scarlet and she closed her eyes and shivered.
"Punishment is one thing, pleasure another. You really shouldn't mix them both, Delia. I'm going to give you a good example. I'm going to punish you very severely now, and then I'm going to Lucille's room for my pleasure. And you, you naughty minx, are going to be condemned to sleeping by yourself tonight. Not only that, I'm going to tie your hands behind your back when you do so that you won't think of relieving yourself, shall we say. What you should have done with Patsy was simply spank her very soundly and thoroughly, and perhaps the next night call her back for an interview to see whether the lesson had given her any new resolutions."
"I-I guess you're right. I-I'm sorry, Mistress."
"Very well. Bring me your hairbrush, then pull your nightie up to your armpits and get right over my lap," Jennifer Danton scolded.
Sniffling audibly, the attractive auburn-haired instructress moved quickly over to the dresser, picked up a black wooden oval-shaped hairbrush from the top, and, her head hanging exactly like a schoolgirl who awaits the moment of retribution, came back towards the straight backed chair in which Jennifer Danton had seated herself.
The dominatress took the hairbrush and watched, her eyes glittering, her lips tight and thin, as Delia blushingly lofted the filmy nightie to her armpits, and then quickly draped herself across Jennifer Danton's lap.
The dominatress' eyes swept the shivering, huddling naked body of the mature beauty, and then her left arm tucked down Delia's waist, the hairbrush rose in the air, hovered a long moment, and then came down with an angry Crackk! to decorate the upper right asscheek with a vivid splotch. Delia caught her breath with a kind of sob, squirmed uneasily, and glanced back anxiously at her executioner.
The spanking went on, relentlessly and slowly. Allowing about twenty-five seconds between spanks, Jennifer Danton brought the brush down first on the right cheek and then on the left till Delia was sobbing and groaning and pleading for mercy exactly like one of the naughty young culprits it was her duty to castigate. Towards the end of the spanking, indeed, she kicked her lovely legs so frantically that Jennifer Danton had to halt several times, adjust her grip of Delia's squirming, perspiring waist, rebuke her victim and admonish her to stay in position unless she wanted extras. Indeed, the last five spanks were given with the bristled side of the brush, and drew shrieks and sobbing promises to be very good from now on from the distracted mature sufferer.
Then the sobbing auburn-haired beauty had to get up, pull down her nightie, kneel down and thank her mistress for the just punishment inflicted. After that, she was obliged to rise, turn her back to Jennifer Danton, who promptly bound her wrists behind her back with tight, thin cords. "Goodnight, Delia. And the next time, it will be a lot worse. Just remember," the dominatress dryly declared. She unlocked the door, went out and closed it, and went di rectly to the room of Lucille Emory who was eagerly waiting for her, clad only in mauve silk pajamas and sitting on the edge of her bed squirming with feverish anticipation.
A few moments later, both women were naked, and Lucille was groaning as, mounted between her straddled thighs, Jennifer Danton cunt rubbed her in the male astride pose, one slim hand cupping and squeezing one of Lucille's bubbies, the other gripping and kneading a velvety bottomcheek.