BDSM Library - Story: NIS PP 5 Rob & Jill, Chapter: Part 1

NIS Punishment Programme: 5 Rob & Jill 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. Jill, a smart but arrogant rich girl, caught in an act of vandalism, is given to a lone intellectual student to mentor her behaviour. The fourth sequel to Naked in School Punishment Programme 1: New Laws (NIS PP 1: New Laws).

Naked In School Punishment Programme:

5 Rob & Jill

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.

“Hi Rob, I brought you a present.” Dad pulled the naked, crying girl into my room and thrust her towards me. Her blue collar and cuffs quickly gave me a clue as to the reason.

I stared at the colourful and very painful stripes that covered the front of her body and knew from watching her thrashing in assembly that morning, her back had been similarly treated. “I don’t want her Dad, she’s never been very pleasant to me. I thought the headmaster intended to expel her and she’d be sent to the penitentiary school?”

“I persuaded him to give her to you to mentor. Pen school would have near killed her and underneath the arrogance I think she’s okay.” I knew he and she shared a love of science, as we both attended the Tuesday after school science club that Dad organised, which is why he favoured her more than other teachers at school, but, unlike many other teacher/student relationships these days, I doubted that he’d taken her to bed or fucked her in the storeroom. I felt annoyed at my father because I really didn’t like the girl and even at the club meetings she hardly spoke to me unless to make an acid comment on what I did.

“Thanks for asking me first, Dad. Why give her to me and not one of the other boys? You know she hates my guts. What about the macho boys? They might be able to deal with her but I’m not one of them.”

“They’d only make her worse and use her as a fuck slave and do nothing to encourage her mind and I know she has the potential to become a first class student. From that point of view, I thought you were the best boy to look after her, the others wouldn’t have made her life much better than being in the pen and secondly, your mother and I have been worried about your lack of interest in girls. Even with the new laws, you’ve only brought two girls home.” Mother, standing in the doorway, nodded her agreement but, knowing I wouldn’t succeed in changing their minds, I still protested.

“I’ve other interests that I...”

“Yes, I know son, the Woodland Trust project keeps you busy but it also keeps you isolated from other people. You need to begin thinking and caring for others and Jill here, will make a good starting project. Take her into the bathroom and see what you can do to ease her suffering. She’s in your care now”

Under my breath I cursed Dad and Jill but followed father’s instructions and took her to the shower, set the temperature a little lower than I liked because I thought it would take some of the fire away and ease her pain at least a little. So far she hadn’t uttered a single word but that changed when I walked into the shower and began to gently wash her. “Keep your fucking hands off me!” she hissed and spat, trying to intimidate me.

My temper rose and very quickly I decided to stamp firmly on such behaviour. “You know the rules even though you may not like them; girls are now subservient to boys and in your case, you are very much in my care and under my control. You do as I say, like it or not. I didn’t want this and nor do I wish to care for the snotty, spoilt daughter of a wealthy man who it seems, hasn’t time to look after you, but I’m lumbered with you and you with me. You’ve seen how some mentors treat their charges more like slaves while others give them the help they need. How I treat you will largely depend on how you treat me. Get used to the idea that you’re not Miss Queen Jill now.” A sharp smack on her already sore arse, emphasised my point.

“Put some of the Exothermaline cream on her when you’re dry,” mother suggested when she came into the bathroom, “And then bring her down for dinner. At least she’s had some effect on you.”

What did she expect when a fifteen-year-old boy and an attractive girl of similar age are in naked contact with each other? Did she think I wouldn’t get an erection or that I am homosexual? Still very disgruntled, I took her into the dining room.

Later as I lay alongside her in my rather small bed, I reviewed the day’s happening and speculated on the future.

When we trouped into assembly and saw the spotlight on the punishment frame, we knew someone would get a hiding that morning. At our private boarding school, ‘The Frobrisher’, I could remember only five occasions when this happened in the six months since the laws changed so this caused some excitement amongst the students and we tried to guess the unfortunate person’s name. We didn’t wait long before finding out. Teddy Grimwade, Pete Forster and Jill Piermont were led naked on to one side of the stage and made to stand facing us while Mr. Thornton the headmaster, gave out the usual announcements. We hardly heard them and fidgeted impatiently to know what the trio had done. Jill and the two boys were often together and leaders of the upper class clique, a clique that thought themselves superior to the rest of us largely because they had more spending money that they believed bought power, and in many instances it did. Jill also spent large amounts on keeping her body looking its best and flaunting it in front of the lesser (as she considered them) girls. Yes, she kept herself beautiful, long blonde hair, round full tits, nice arse but an awful personality. None of us lower class boys thought much of her except for imagining her as our slave and fucking her endlessly and ruthlessly. Now I had the chance, I wasn’t so keen on it.

Compared to her, I’m a Mr. Average. 1.6 metres high, 62 kilos with short, dark hair and spectacles, I knew I didn’t stand out in a crowd and tended to shy away from company.

In absolute silence, the headmaster finally turned to the three. “Yesterday Mr. Newman had cause to reprimand Jill Piermont for failure to do her work and ordered her to spend Saturday afternoon doing it under his guidance. He was willing to give up his time; she wasn’t and decided to play a prank on him to get her revenge. Last evening, she used her skills in programming to decipher the code to his door lock and knowing he was at the theatre, went inside leaving the two boys as look-outs. First she folded the sheet on his bed to make what is known, I believe, as an apple-pie bed. That alone would have been sufficient for punishment but she compounded her crime by urinating on his pillow.” We all tried to suppress our giggles; Mr. Newman wasn’t one of our favourite teachers. “Mr. Newman often keeps a vase of flowers on his bedside table and in getting off the bed, Jill managed to knock over the vase and spill dirty water on her trousers and in her anger, threw the vase at the wall. It smashed irreparably. Besides being valuable antique from early in the last century, it belonged to his grandmother and therefore of sentimental value as well. Unfortunately for her, Mr. Cruikshank heard the crash and saw the trio leave the corridor leading to Mr. Newman’s room. Because of the seriousness of the crime and the value of the vase, I decided to take her to the TEDs machine to get the truth before deciding on a fitting punishment.”

“She’s really going to get her arse walloped,” whispered Ron next to me. We had no idea of the extent of her punishment.

Mr. Thornton is not usually sadistic with his punishments and when students have been given their standard twenty-five with the strap before being given to a mentor, he hasn’t hit overly hard, so it came as a shock when he announced, “The two boys will be given twenty strokes of the strap and will remain naked in school for a week for their part in the offence.” That seemed pretty harsh when they’d only kept watch but we found out later that Mr. Newman had threatened to resign if they weren’t all severely dealt with. After a lengthy pause, Mr. Thornton went on, “For organising and carrying out her part in this disgusting episode, Miss Piermont will receive fifty strokes of the strap, twenty-five on her rear and twenty-five on her front. We will then expel her from The Frobrisher and as she is still of school age, she will be sent to Penitentiary School until eligible to leave.” We all gasped at the severity and I for one, suspected more lay behind it than we were told.

I suppose I’m a wimp but I hate seeing a woman given a thrashing. A spanking or a few strokes of the strap while bent over a desk and displaying her charms like we often see when someone hasn’t done their homework to the required standard, is fine and erotic, but a thrashing such as we had to witness that morning, really turned me off and I began to feel sick. The boys were dealt with first and Mr. Thornton hit hard but not overly so, however, he didn’t pull back at all when he thrashed Jill. All the strokes, those down her back and on her arse, and up her stomach and especially those across her tits, were full blooded and hard and only the use of a spray stimulant kept her awake for the whole time. Much as I disliked the girl, I felt sorry for her too and if the stories we heard of the pen school were true, this would only be the start of her suffering. We didn’t see her for the rest of the day.

I moved slightly in the narrow bed and Jill cried out but she didn’t wake, one of mother’s sleeping pills knocked her out. “Sorry,” I whispered and returned to my recollections of the day.

Delores Piermont, Jill’s mother commed us a short while before dinner and dad answered it; Patrick Piermont was out of the country on business and hadn’t been in contact. She wanted to come and see the condition of her daughter but dad persuaded her to postpone her visit until things had settled down a little. In fact, when she bossily tried to insist, he used his male authority and ordered her to stay at home.

Jill sat uneasily on the extra cushion at the dinner table and looked sullenly at her plate without eating very much. “Dad, how did I end up mentoring Jill when she was supposed to be expelled? You didn’t really explain earlier,” I asked, knowing that he’d always got on well with her in his classes. Dad taught science at The Frobrisher and although, I might have been awarded a scholarship to attend the private boarding school, my education there was one of the perks that went with the job. As we have a two bedroomed family flat on campus, I didn’t sleep in the dorms. He’d been there three years or so and I’d been there for two and a bit. Jill attended as a day-schooler and went home each night and was supposed to do her prep at home too. Most teachers would have given Jill a few swats with the strap for not doing her work but I suppose Mr. Newman wanted to get his prick into her as well and therefore ordered the Saturday detention.

“I told you some of the reasons, Rob but more importantly I felt Jill’s life would be completely wasted if she went to the pen just because of a silly prank that went wrong. As you know, she’s very intelligent, probably more so than you if she would only put her mind to it. I went to see the headmaster and Mr. Newman, and spent nearly an hour arguing with them but in the end they agreed to allow you to be her mentor, not in the sense that the other mentors are in raising the standard of work from less gifted pupils, but in raising the standard of her behaviour and attitude to others. When we pointed this out to her, Jill agreed but I think she still expects to exercise at least some of her old control so it is up to you not to permit it. Even since the changing of the laws, Jill has almost been a law unto herself in defiance of the subordinate role of females, now she must be, and I emphasise, MUST be, subservient to you. It’s time for you to take charge and show some leadership qualities.” Jill gave a little helpless cry at that point but we ignored it. “The headmaster and I had another problem to argue about. By rights, any pupil given to a mentor is awarded twenty-five strokes of the strap for not working to the proper standard.” Jill gasped. “In the end we agreed to withhold the strapping but he will add it on to any further punishment should that become necessary. That’s another incentive for you to mend your ways, Jill. We put her blue collar and the cuffs on and allowed her to remain in the medical room until I finished for the day. I collected her from there and allowed her to put on her outdoor clothes because the February temperature is well below 20 Celsius.”

Lying for a while longer, gently caressing my erection and wondering when I would fuck Jill, I knew I could now if I wanted, but her soreness would not make it pleasurable for either of us. Perhaps the first step would be a blowjob to establish my authority. Because of my reserved nature, I’d only fucked three girls but that didn’t mean that I didn’t want to or I didn’t have the desire, I just felt awkward in asking a girl out or asking her to sleep with me. With Jill, I didn’t have that problem. Ceasing my gentle wanking because I wanted to save myself for her, I turned over and drifted into a light sleep.

Waking at an early hour and hearing a few groans from Jill, I knew she was awake. For a few minutes I kept still while my mind decided on my best course of action and then, turning to face her, I rubbed my hand along her thighs. “I suppose you want to fuck me despite the pain I’m in,” she hissed.

“Yes, I do want to fuck you but for now I’ll settle for a blowjob. That shouldn’t cause you any pain and will relieve my erection.”

“Bastard.”

I squeezed a tit quite gently but she cried out with the pain it caused to her swollen breast. “Get used to it Jill and think yourself lucky I’ve not put you over my knee for a spanking. I’m doing what I can for you and I expect something in return. Turn this way and start sucking, I’m sure you know how.” Reluctantly and without any enthusiasm, she sucked me to completion and didn’t attempt to spit it out. Afterwards I insisted she lie on her side facing me and I tried to engage her in conversation and to sort out possible problems but when she virtually refused to answer all but the simplest questions, I unkindly said, “Well there’s still time for me to change my mind about keeping you and you are welcome to sample the delights of the penitentiary and I can get back on with my life without the unwelcome hassle.”

Some long minutes later she whispered, “Sorry,” and I guessed she’d weighed up the pros and cons of being with me.

“The stripes don’t look so raw this morning, I presume they’re still painful, Jill?” Dad asked at breakfast.

“Of course they are.” Her tone suggested he’d asked a stupid question.

Smack! My hand landed smartly on her arse causing her to yell and gently clasp her buttocks. “Dad asked you a civil question and should receive a civil answer. Try again.”

She glared hate at me but said, “Sorry Sir, yes they are still painful especially when I move.”

“Sir is for school, when we’re at home, Bob’s fine as you’re now part of the family. Are the painkillers helping?”

“Yes Sir... Bob, I think the tablets have helped but I’m not sure if I can walk to school.”

“You may find the walk actually helps.” I’m sure dad saw past her attempt to get off school for the day.

“Any problems?” he directed the question at me.

“The bed and room are too small for long-term use. We both have schoolwork to do and my desk space is hardly adequate for one. I’ve nearly used up the Exothermaline and as it is Friday we have games this afternoon and I doubt she is fit enough to do much but that won’t stop Coach Manson from making her take part.”

Dad thought for a moment. “As regards the room, you have three choices, stay here and use the dining table when it’s not in use, move to Jill’s home, provided her father agrees, where I’m sure she has a bigger room, and thirdly try and get a dorm room, they’re all for two students and for mentored students they lock two beds together and provide bedclothes for a double bed. That’s probably your best bet because you will both be on new ground so to speak. I’ll have a word with the Bursar if you like. You’ll still be welcome here at weekends or whenever. Your mother will get another tube of the cream this morning, we should have enough credits even though it is near the end of the month and funds are fairly low.” He didn’t mention the games lesson.

“A different room may not be necessary,” Jill spoke loftily and waited before going on, “Daddy is flying back tonight and he’ll sort this out so that I can return home.” I’d heard her talking on her comms unit while I sat on the toilet but hadn’t caught her words.

“Even if he disagrees with your punishment, I doubt it will make much difference. You know the alternative and if Mr. Newman thinks you’re are getting away with it, he’ll do what he wanted to in the first place, put the matter in the hands of the police. You’d then go to court followed by session in the whipping hall and without a doubt, be sent to the pen.” I’m sure Jill realised the rationale of Dad’s words.

Jill shook my hand free when I held hers to walk to school. “It’s my hand or a leash attached to your collar and I’ll pull you along like a puppy, Jill. Which?” She held my hand and I led her into the locker room where she removed all her clothes, except for shoes, in front of other students. I could see her anger rising at some of the comments but I quietly told her to remain calm and that probably prevented an outburst. Most of the comments and questions concerned her being in school and my being in charge. These were answered later.

Assembly caused further embarrassment. “Will Robert Catling bring Jill Piermont up on to the stage please?” Mr. Thornton asked at the end of his announcements. Taking her hand, I led her up the steps and into the limelight that neither of us wanted. The headmaster made Jill turn round twice so everyone saw her purple-yellow stripes and went on, “Yesterday I said I would expel Jill and send her to the penitentiary school but Mr. Catling persuaded me to give her to Robert to mentor. Unlike the other students in the mentoring programme, Jill has no need for extra tuition in her class work but Robert is to monitor her behaviour and thus, she is being treated like other students in the programme. As you can see, she is wearing the collar and cuffs and will remain naked all the time she is inside school, and outside too when the weather warms up. She is under Robert’s control and is not available to other students without his permission and, until her behaviour improves and her body heals, he is unlikely to give it.” He went on and on about how he trusted her behaviour and attitude would improve and I wondered if his words would have the opposite effect and make her all the more resentful and determined to kick against the rules and me.

Things happened quickly after that. Towards the end of the morning, I had a comm message to take Jill to Matron for examination that afternoon. I noticed she copied the message to Coach Manson so he would know why we missed his lesson and during the lunch break the Bursar commed me to say that room 302 on the Senior’s Floor would be available by Sunday afternoon. I’ve no doubt dad pulled a few strings to get those concessions. We looked at it before going to see Matron. Of course, Jill thought it dull and unattractive but all the dorms were similar. “We are allowed to put posters and decorations up provided we don’t damage the walls,” I pointed out.

“Yes, and you’ll take all the space with your wildlife pictures.”

“No, we’ll share the wall space equally. We’ve got to try and live in harmony otherwise it will be hell for both of us. Yes, I am designated your mentor and I could exercise my right to be the strong arm boss, but I’ll try and be fair and only use my power for behavioural reasons... and when I want sex!” I laughed and made a joke of it but she didn’t appear to appreciate my humour and I believe she thought her father could alter everything for her.

Matron did a thorough examination that took most of the afternoon and after pronouncing, “Jill your body is healing as well as can be expected and, Rob, I suggest you continue treating her with Exothermaline if you can afford it.” She allowed us to leave early and we took a robotaxi to Jill’s home to collect a few things for the evening, “In case father isn’t home in time to free me from your claws,” as she put it. Her mother cried when she saw the state of her daughter but fortunately didn’t blame me.

Patrick Piermont arrived at my home about 9 o’clock that evening and looked very shocked at the state of Jill’s body and gently hugged her while she cried and pleaded with him to take her away. Much to her chagrin, Patrick put paid to any notion that she could return to her former situation. “I’ve had a long talk with Mr. Thornton and from what I’ve heard I feel that you are very lucky to have Mr. Catling and his son look after you. It’s about time you learned to live life at a lower level and to consider the feelings of others. When I’ve been at home, and that is not as often as I would like, I’ve noticed your rudeness and manipulation of others has increased in the last few months and with hindsight, I now realise I probably should have given you a good dose of the strap on the day the new laws came into force, but at the time, I didn’t wish to harm you. I did more harm than I realised. Now you are paying the price.” I could see he loved his daughter but adamantly refused her pleas to try and change the decision.

She sulked while dad, mother and I discussed with him the logistics of our keeping her. In the end, to Jill’s annoyance and disgust, he cut her allowance from 500 credits a week to only 25 and paid the rest to my account to pay for the accommodation in the dorm, our food, medicines and any incidentals she might need. He clearly stipulated the money was to cover my living expenses as well as hers. “Please treat her wisely and not too harshly,” he requested, “And please bring her to see me when I’m at home and to see her mother at anytime. We don’t wish to lose her altogether like we would have done if your father hadn’t intervened. Feel free to contact me if you need anything the weekly credits don’t cover.”

With the money worries lifted, I know dad felt a great relief because he half suspected Patrick would disown her and we would have to pay for her keep. The small amount the government paid to mentors hardly covered the cost of basic food. Of course I thanked him profusely and promised to keep in touch. Crying, Jill turned away from her father when the time came to say good-bye until I quietly told her, “Jill, your father and my family are only trying to do the best for you as we see it, at least say good-bye politely.” She did so but almost inaudibly.

That night I forcibly held her close and while I had a hard-on, I made no attempt to fuck her. I did when we woke in the morning but took my time and massaged her mound to ensure her juices flowed, and tried to keep my weight off her still sore body. Of course, she resisted but I pushed her legs apart and eased my prick into her cunt and then thrust carefully so as not to hurt her more than necessary but to give me a little satisfaction and project my roll as the dominant one. Not a very enjoyable fuck because of the lack of any positive response from her.

Normally on a weekend, I’d try to get my homework done and take off for Frensham Wood to catalogue the wild life as part of the Woodland Trust project but on that cold weekend with rain and sleet falling, I didn’t regret not going. Jill set up her comms screen in the dining room and I worked in the bedroom but I checked on her from time to time. “Yes, I am working, Master,” she said sarcastically when I went into the room a second time and continued in that vein until mid afternoon when I’d finished my work and knew she had too, angrily I literally dragged her to the bedroom.

“If you want me to be a cruel harsh master, then I will,” I spoke vehemently as I almost threw her on to the bed and took my trousers off. “Open your legs, bitch.” In my anger I made no attempt to play with her or to give her any satisfaction and fucked hard until I shot my load. By then most of my anger dissipated and when I withdrew, I lay beside her and whispered, “Sorry,” and pulled her close. “It’s a traumatic time for me too. As you know, I’ve not had a girlfriend or wanted one, so this is all very new to me. I certainly don’t want a master-slave relationship and at this time, we aren’t going to be lovers, but we should be able to get along provided we actually try to make it work.” She didn’t respond but I think my near rape worried her more than a little and she became more careful in what she said and did.

*****

“Knock, knock.” “Hi there, I’m Chris Bealing and this is my slave Sarah Sutcliffe.” Sarah laughingly gave him a punch on the arm. “I’ve been mentoring her since the beginning of last term and we’ve the room next door. Honey told us you were coming but we’ve been out otherwise we’d have helped you unpack.”

I introduced us although, like them, no introductions were necessary. We’d seen Sarah get her twenty-five strokes of the strap at the very beginning of the school year and, although a year above us, we’d frequently seen them together as an item, in fact we’d seen Sarah in her nakedness and blue collar and cuffs so often that we considered it her school uniform and thought nothing of it. “Are you going to eat in the dining room? It’s only open for an hour on Sunday evenings.” We walked hand-in-hand with our partners, purchased our meals, Sarah paid independently for hers so I assumed she had her own finances but most students at The Frobrisher were from wealthy families. I rather liked the fact that I paid for Jill’s.

Many students went home at weekends so we easily found an empty table and could discuss dorm life in relative comfort. “Mrs. Honeywell, Honey to us, the dorm mother for our floor, is pretty easy going unless you make a noise after curfew, 11 p.m. on school nights and midnight at weekends. Like you, I have a fixed partner and find that I don’t need to swap around but in most of the other dorm rooms, the girls voluntarily take in a boy or one of the teachers for the night. Sarah and I do occasionally invite another couple in, but not often.”

While Chris and I talked, Sarah spoke quietly with Jill and at one point she put her hand on Jill’s and said, “It will work out okay, the first week or two are the worst. In the beginning I hated Chris but we’re fine together now and I refused the offer to come out of the programme at Christmas. He’s raised my grades and nobody worries about my nakedness now the stripes have gone. Yours will take longer although they’ve lost their rawness already but the awful bruise colours will take some time to fade.”

All the dorm rooms have a washbasin and mirror but the communal showers and toilets are situated at the far end of the corridor on each floor. Chris, Sarah and a couple of boys were in when we went to shower that night. The boys watched us, intrigued more by the colour of her welts than by her nakedness. Chris and Sarah put on a bit of a show for them but Jill and I washed each other with my taking care to only touch her gently. Thank goodness for body dryers rather than rough towels.

Over the next two weeks we fell into a routine whereby we jogged along without open conflict but I knew that she still resented my control over her. Several times I had to use my authority and spanked her once but gradually the need became less. I only gave her ten spanks but I showed her the strap I’d been issued and made sure she knew I would use it if her behaviour deteriorated. Mrs. Honeywell came in frequently and tried to soothe over any disagreements but we both liked her. She taught art, the one subject where I could excel over Jill. In junior school, I’d taken private drawing lessons, mainly to be able to illustrate the things I found in the woods and I’d been able to build on the training at The Frobrisher. At science, maths and English, we were fairly evenly matched but Jill always had the edge over me and I could foresee the gap between us increasing if, or when, she really applied herself to the subjects. The fact that I didn’t have to actually tutor her and mostly we were able to complete our schoolwork during the evening prep periods, enabled us to spend time studying our own subjects; natural history for me and micro-electronics for her. Certainly she studied more now that she had to be with me instead of going out with her friends. I’m sure they disappointed her too. Hardly any of them came and spoke to us when we saw them in the dining room or elsewhere. I guess it emphasised her downfall on the social ladder from queen of the roost to slave, or at least, that’s how they saw it.

Our sex life improved to the extent that she began to thrust back at me and several times I’d been able to bring her to a climax before I came. To keep my dominance, I fucked her at least once a day, frequently twice and had used her bottom hole twice in the first few weeks, but she’d been fucked that way before and, although she complained, it wasn’t a great hardship for her.

At the weekends we fetched more of our stuff from home and our dorm room began to look ‘lived in’; tidy but lived in. Mrs. Honeywell made sure of that. One Sunday we had dinner with my parents and the following one with Delores, Jill’s mother. She expressed her pleasure at seeing her daughter’s body recovering well from the strapping. Patrick wasn’t home. With the grotty February weather on both weekends, I didn’t begrudge not being able to visits the woods. However, the first weekend in March promised to be fine and bright, but cold and frosty. On the Saturday, I took Jill to a shop specialising in outdoor clothing and kitted her out with a camouflage over-suit and hat and a pair of wellington boots. She grumbled at my paying for them with her credits but I pointed out that the cost was far less than a little jacket she fancied in a shop we’d passed on the way and which she wouldn’t be able to wear for some time. Her attitude became morose after that, not helped by starting her period.

Getting up before first light on a Sunday morning, didn’t improve her mood but we quickly got a robotaxi to the wood and arrived just as the first rays of sun highlighted the hoar frost. Very picturesque but it did nothing to improve her ill humour. Jill had my old pair of binoculars but didn’t use them and just trailed disconsolately behind me. Suddenly we came upon a roe deer and her calf feeding quietly. I froze and with extreme caution, raised my camera, zoomed in on the pair and almost pressed the shutter when, “SCRAM!” Jill yelled and instantly the deer fled.

“You bitch, just wait till we get back, your arse will really be sore again and I don’t care if you have difficulty in sitting when we go to dinner with your father.” My voice emphasised my anger.

I wasn’t the only one. Out of a woodland hide, came the warden. “Can’t you control your slave, Rob? I was about to get the best picture of a lifetime when that bitch frightened them. I hope you’re going to deal with her.”

“I certainly am, Jake, just as soon as I get her back home.”

“Deal with her now in front of me or I’ll get your access permission cancelled. Get your strap out and put her over that fallen tree and I’ll make sure she get her full deserts.”

He left me no choice and although Jill yelled and screamed at us, Jake threatened her with a session at the whipping hall and he held her down while I lowered her trousers and took the strap from my backpack. The law forced me to have it with me at all times. Had it been left to me, I’d have given her a hand spanking but now I had to use the strap and use it hard enough to satisfy Jake. I left her thong and sanitary pad in place and brought the strap down on her exposed cheeks. Certainly her screams frightened all the wildlife within a mile when I laid the first stroke on and continued until I’d given her twenty. “That will do, she hasn’t recovered from her thrashing of a few weeks ago.” Even in the sub-zero temperature her arse felt warm but Jake felt she should have more. I refused point blank and again refused when he wanted to fuck her arse. He threatened to report the incident but I felt I’d enough friends in the trustees of the wood, to overcome his objections. So it proved.

My anger abated a little and I took the taxi back to the school. Jill’s crying alerted Mrs. Honeywell and she looked in and wanted to know what happened. “What would you have done if Jake hadn’t appeared?” she asked.

“Probably brought her back and spanked her over my knee.”

She nodded and watched as I undressed her. “You’re back early enough to get breakfast, put a little cream on her and then we’ll all go a get something to eat.” Correctly I assumed she made the suggestion as an excuse to lecture us on behaviour.

Chris and Sarah looked in when they heard the fuss and came to breakfast too. Fortunately not many were in the room but those there made comments on the fresh stripes and further increased the tension between us. Honey managed to defuse some of it and gently tried to persuade Jill to kerb foolish acts of rebellion. To my surprise when we returned to our rooms, Sarah asked to be allowed to speak to Jill alone and I readily agreed and stayed with Chris. Sarah remained with Jill for over an hour but I never found out what they said. Jill though, appeared much calmer when I returned and allowed me to put cream on her arse and even let me lie alongside and cuddle her.

Patrick wanted to know all the details when we arrived for dinner and he’d carefully inspected his daughter’s bum. Afterwards he smiled and said, “Jill, for a highly intelligent woman, you are the stupidest of girls. You must learn to evaluate the possible consequences of any action you take. I have to in my work. I have to work to rules, much the same as you and if I deviate I get punished, not by the strap but by not getting the contract or the work done. Your rules are different but they’re very clear-cut, whereas mine are fuzzy and vary from country to country. Why not try going with the rules, and even giving a little more of yourself to Rob, who I know will do his best for you?” Jill shrugged. Combined with the other sessions with Honey and Sarah, she probably had a dose of advice overload. Some of it must have sunk in because over the next few weeks she became less antagonistic towards me and even began to show a little interest in the wild life of the woods.

*****

We returned from the Easter break and saw the caretaker locking two beds together and a pile of bedclothes for a double bed. “Any idea who the unlucky person might be?” I asked Chris and Sarah.

“Almost certainly it’ll be Kate Pascal. She’s had the strap a few times for poor work and I think she skipped the last day of term,” Chris suggested, “She’s a day schooler and her parents might say she was ill.”

“They won’t,” Jill interjected, “I spoke with her in the shopping centre one day during the holiday while we queued up for ice cream and she said then she expected another dose of the strap when school started. Her father commed Mr. Thornton but Kate didn’t hear what they said.”

“The big question is, who will be her mentor?” I asked.

“Could be anyone,” Chris conjectured, “With Sarah they had to find someone with superior intelligence,” Sarah blew him a raspberry and received a playful smack, “And with Jill, they had to choose a boy with equal intelligence.” “Sub-equal,” Jill interrupted and I gave her a light smack, “But Kate’s a dumb klutz and almost every one in this year or the year below has more know-how.”

“She doesn’t appear to have much in her head, but I think she hides what she knows so the teachers don’t expect too much of her,” Jill rose to the girl’s defence.

“And being a day-schooler and being at home during the evening with all the other distractions, she isn’t forced to spend time doing the prep work like we are,” I added and a debate followed. Her life would change when she became a boarder.

Our assumption that Kate Pascal would be mentored proved correct and next morning the tall, naked girl stood looking very apprehensive in the spotlight on the stage. As usual we had to wait until Mr. Thornton gave all the announcements before hearing Kate’s fate. He awarded her the standard twenty-five strokes of the strap and laid them on harder than normal, making it clear that truancy would not be tolerated. I felt sick at seeing her back and arse thrashed like that and Jill openly cried; it brought back memories of her time on the stage. Kate took her punishment fairly well and while she yelled with each stroke, she controlled the volume more than others did.

“Will Kevin Maine come onto the stage please?”

What a shock, none of us predicted him as a mentor. A tall, lanky and rather nervous lad, a middle range student who didn’t have many friends, a boy you saw in class and never noticed. Did Mr. Thornton choose him because his height slightly exceeded hers or because he wanted to bring the boy out of his shell and give him more confidence? We never found out. Certainly he looked very nervous, perhaps bewildered might be a better word, when the head called him up and I doubted he’d been asked to mentor her before hand and only tentatively helped her off the stage.

We didn’t see them again until we’d eaten lunch and went back to our room. “There’s some cream left in the tube and we’ve half a pack of painkillers, do you think we should offer them to Kevin?” Jill asked. I agreed and with the door to their room being ajar, we knocked and went in. Kate lay on the bed and Kevin sat in a chair looking at her, uncertain what to do or what to say.

“What do you want?” Kate greeted me, “You come to gloat?”

“May I give her arse a few spanks, Kevin, or will you do it? She’s your student slave, and shouldn’t be allowed to get away with that remark. Best if you do it. Half a dozen should be adequate.” I indicated to Kevin that he should show his authority. “You’re the boss, Kev, make sure she knows it.”

“No! Please I hurt badly now,” Kate pleaded but then saw Jill and realised she had been through far worse.

Kevin took the initiative and spanked her still raw bum and I saw in his eyes, the sense of power her held over the girl but I wondered if that would continue when they were alone or if Kate would manipulate him to her satisfaction.

“We actually came to offer you some of the painkillers and cream I found worked well. Would you like them Kevin, it doesn’t look as though you’ve put anything on her yet? We have lessons this afternoon so some pain relief could be useful,” Jill suggested.

Chris and Sarah popped in when they passed and together we assisted Kevin in applying the cream. He seemed afraid to even touch her skin until we forced him to actually rub the cream in gently and firmly.

Ten minutes later we all walked to our lessons and Chris ensured Kevin kept hold of Kate’s hand on the way.

Even with our encouragement, Kevin didn’t really dominate Kate and she quickly became adept at getting her way. It came to a head the following Sunday, when she decided to slip away from him. “Have you seen her?” he burst into our room soon after lunch. We all did a quick search that soon involved the whole floor and brought it to Mrs. Honeywell’s notice. We found Kate hiding in one of the storerooms.

In a way it was fortunate that Mr. Thornton had gone to visit his parents that weekend so Mrs. Honeywell would deal with them, otherwise Kate might have ended up on the stage for another thrashing. All those who’d taken part in the search assembled in the common room. “Bend her over the back of the chair Kevin and hold her still while I refresh some of the stripes on her bottom.” She gave the poor girl a dozen with her strap and didn’t spare her either but laid the strokes on smartly and hard. I hadn’t seen that side of her before but I gather the search and the punishment had disturbed the peace of her afternoon off. She certainly disturbed Kate’s afternoon and soon had her crying and yelling.

“Now drop your pants Kevin and bend over the chair. This is as much your fault as hers. You’ve failed to use your authority and failed to look after your student.” His face showed his shock at the order and we doubted he’d felt the strap very often but obediently he complied and suffered half a dozen to his arse. He took them stoically but knew he felt the pain.

“Has anyone a leash?” Mrs. Honeywell asked. Chris still had the one he’d used on Sarah when he first tutored her and Honey clipped it on Kate, gave the end to Kevin and ordered. “The shops will still be open, take her to the pet store and get one of those retractable leads they use for dog walking and fasten her to it and clip the other end to yourself so that she is tied to you all the time until I decide you can dispense with it. At the most she can only be about 6 metres away from you, and you can use the mechanism to draw her closer. If she escapes again I’ll really paste both of your bottoms. Get some clothes on her Kevin and take her to the shop now. I don’t care if either or both of you are sore or embarrassed. Go on move yourselves.”

She came to us after we’d watched the pair hobble down the stairs to get a robotaxi to the shops. “Please keep an eye of them for me. I knew they weren’t responding to each other in the way we hoped but I didn’t realise he allowed her to get away with as much as she has. Let me know if things start to slide so I can talk to them before things get too bad again.”

For the next two weeks, it became a familiar sight to see Kate on the end of a dog lead although, to make it less conspicuous, she usually stayed close to him. At night he clipped it to a bedpost with a small lock so she couldn’t even go to the toilet without asking, but finally Kevin started to take control and we know he fucked her as and when he wanted.

*****

On a warm April Sunday, I had a flash of inspiration that proved a turning point in my relationship with Jill. Initially I intended it only as something to get her interested in the wood. Dad, in his capacity as science teacher, ran a science club on one evening a week between end of school in the afternoon and dinner and both Jill and I attended, she because she wanted to and not because she had to be with me. Her interest in micro-electronics now focussed on the remote control of miniature sci-fi robots and frequently she’d asked me to order tiny components from online stores, which I did although I only had a vague idea of their use.

On this particular Sunday, I’d found a bumblebee’s nest and casually remarked, “Could you make some sort of a GPS device small enough to fit on the back of the bee so that we could track its flight path and find out how far it flies to find pollen and does it fly in a straight line or zigzag around?”

“Maybe... but I’m not going to fix it on the bee!”

It sparked her imagination and led to studies of the carrying capacity of a bumblebee and the possible range. “They make something similar to track the flight paths of birds, even small birds, but nothing that weighs only a gram or two, which might be a heavy load for a bumblebee,” she informed me a week later. Another few days went by during which she spent a lot of her free time on the comms unit. “We may be getting somewhere now, a firm in Germany are trialling a tiny capsule for injection under the skin of prisoners so their whereabouts is always known. Energy to drive the device is produced by the difference in body heat to ambient. I’ve been comming one of the scientists and he’s interested in our project and will send us samples with and without the capsule. Should be here tomorrow.”

Great news. I hugged and kissed her and from that moment, our relationship changed. We worked together as a team, not only for the project but in our life too.

By the end of the summer term we’d published our findings in a technical wildlife publication and beekeepers showed an interest in a similar project with the much smaller honey bee. Our relationship had become very close. I wouldn’t say we were in love or anything but we lived and fucked like a married couple and when Mr. Thornton offered to release Jill from the programme, she requested to remain in it with clothing optional. Several previous mentored students had taken that option. It still meant being tied to me and wearing blue collar and cuffs but she could now wear normal clothing if she so wished. After being naked in all weathers for five months, she’d become used to nudity and with the warm summer weather other students shed all or some of their clothes too when not at lessons.

With the closure of The Frobrisher for the summer break, we had to vacate our dorm and but still had to remain together. We spent a number of nights at my house but more at Jill’s home, mainly because her room is so much bigger than mine. Now we’re off to Germany together to see the scientists who produce the location capsule to discuss further miniaturisation. Jill’s hoping to work there when college or university finishes but that is for the future. Whether or not we are together then remains to be seen but even if not, our time together has been a rewarding one for both of us.

Finis