Lowewood Academy

The day started well. It was a beautiful, cold, clear morning, the frost white across the Lowewood lawns and the bare branches of the trees stark against a pale blue sky. It felt good to be alive and to be out there, running. I came back to the changing rooms and smiled as I saw who was waiting for me. Rose – Rose Kingswood. She couldn’t be more different from her prefect namesake. Where Rosie Woodward was petite and brunette Rose Kingswood was blonde and curvy. Rosie Woodward was (generally) a very good girl, Rose Kingswood was not. Over the last few weeks I had discovered that she had an insatiable appetite for sex, an appetite that I was very happy to try to meet. She also had no interest in all the romantic shit that girls are usually into, and that suited me just fine as well. Sex with no strings attached, it was all I wanted from a woman.

“Hi Harry,” she smiled. “Hope you haven’t worn yourself out with all that running.”

“Why, had you got something energetic in mind?”

“You know exactly what I’ve got in mind,” she said, running her tongue suggestively over her lips.

(more…)

Why is it that dealing with girls is so complicated? I thought that being a prefect would be straightforward. The rules are clear, get caught breaking the rules and you get whacked. That’s the way I thought it worked at Lowewood. I never realised that feelings, emotions, would come into it at all. Nor that the administration of discipline had anything to do with sex. Of course I knew that some guys, like William, like to see girls being spanked but I assumed that it was just because it gave them a chance to leer at a girl with her knickers down. I was wrong. Sex and spanking, it’s all bound up together and I’m not sure how I feel about it.

Two girls have been causing me some problems. The first is Samantha Maples. Samantha of CCF, who I had to give some remedial training to after she caused us to fail the drill test. Well, this week the drill test was passed with flying colours but it took some work. In fact it took three more sessions of individual tuition before Samantha reached the required standard. I didn’t carry out my threat to make her do it in the nude but I had to use my cane a couple of times to drive the message home, and she has spent quite a lot of time over my knee. That doesn’t worry me – she needed to be treated that way to get her to perform. What does concern me is the way it made me feel. I found that I was enjoying punishing her. That I was getting aroused by the whole thing. Samantha is generally well-behaved and she has found being regularly punished quite a shock to the system. She has shed a lot of tears and I have to admit that making her cry has also been a turn-on. Now I find myself looking for excuses to punish her. Is that normal?

The other girl is Rose Kingswood.

(more…)

“Today, Corwin!” Mr Tough snarled, as I dawdled by the changing room door, tying the laces on my running shoes. Cross-country doesn’t bother me normally, but I was dog tired after all the extra hours I’d been putting in at the library. Even my shoe-laces looked bleary, my eyes watering from yawning. Schlepping through the woods in murky drizzle, my limbs going blue in the cold, didn’t fill me with zeal.

I swear, I will never again mock the school swots. The sort of work they put in… well, it’s not for us mortals to sneer at, or to replicate. When I next see Maria Marten, I’ll give her a flower or something.

Tufty landed a heavy smack on my arse as I dragged my feet past him, the last of class to head out to the woods. The dude doesn’t realise he’s sending out gay vibes every time he does it; athletes are oblivious to that sort of thing. “Move, Corwin, move your feet!” he shouted. There was nothing for it: I knew very well that he was going to follow behind, catching up with the stragglers and dispensing his Olympian justice.

It rankled that Lydia hadn’t waited for me. This “just friends” business; it wasn’t working as well as all that. When we were “just friends” before, she would have waited. I imagined her running beside Joe Three, and had to stop grinding my teeth for fear of breaking a molar.

(more…)