“Okay, your knickers stuck in your mouth, then.”
“You wouldn't!”
“I would,” Peter replied, reaching for the discarded panties.
“Okay, okay,” Tiffany said hastily, her face redder than ever. “I used to be Vicky's toasty girl
vi
, but ⦔
“What's a toasty girl?”
“You know, a girl who warms up another girl's bed for her ⦠In other words, someone who ⦠helps her out when she's feeling ⦠dirty. Don't you boys do something like that Broadfields?”
“Not normally, no,” Peter answered and quickly changed the subject back to more fruitful ground. “So Vicky used to take you to bed, for what?”
“Oh, you know, she'd make me fiddle with her cunt and kiss her tits.”
“Did she spank you?”
“Yes, of course, and if I was really badly behaved she'd sit on my face and make me lick her cunt and ⦠and her other hole.”
Peter gave a hollow moan and put his hand to his cock, which had begun to swell again, his eyes shut as he pictured the look of consternation and horror on Tiffany's face as the bigger girl squatted down to have her bottom licked. It was immensely appealing and unspeakably rude at the same time, maybe too rude.
“You're teasing me again, aren't you?” he said.
“No,” she assured him. “Vicky was the one who taught me how nice it is to fiddle with myself, and to put things in my bottom. I was her toasty girl for two terms, and of course she used to punish me. That's just the way it is. Usually it would be a spanking, across her knee with my skirt turned up for a few smacks on my knickers before she pulled them down, just the way you like to do me. Sometimes she'd use her hairbrush instead of her hand, but if I'd been really insolent, or if she was in a dirty mood, then she'd put her bum in my face. I used to hate it, and I used to love it too. How dirty is that? Then Christine told her I used to play with Alice, because Christine had a crush on Vicky and wanted to be her toasty girl instead of me. Vicky got jealous and she doesn't really trust me now, but if you speak to her she'll know it's for real.”
Tiffany went quiet for a moment, then began to talk again, her voice now soft and urgent.
“Vicky punished us together, Alice and me, after she found out. She caught us and dragged us into the showers, where she made us kneel side by side, in our clothes but with our skirts up and our knickers pulled down. Then she spanked us, with her hand first, then she rubbed our cunts with toothpaste, and put her fingers up our bottom holes to make it sting and got back to the spanking with a big wooden bath brush. It hurt so much and I cried and cried. Poor Alice wet herself, right into her splayed knickers, but Vicky just laughed. Then she came to stand over me, and she made me watch while she lifted her skirt and pulled her knickers aside. She told me she was going to piddle on me, and then she did it, all over my butt and all over my back and in my hair and in my face. She even made me open my mouth so she could pee in it, and she made me swallow, and ⦔
“Now I know you're teasing,” Peter broke in. “But I swear that if you don't shut up right now my cock's going back in your bum.”
Tiffany laughed and jumped to her feet, sticking her tongue out at him before running away. Peter gave chase, but before he could catch her she'd turned, putting her hands out in a defensive gesture as she spoke.
“No, please, I'm too sore, not now.”
“Okay,” Peter agreed, privately relieved for the dull ache in his now stiff cock. “Just turn around and stick out your bottom.”
Tiffany stuck out her lower lip in a sulky pout but did as she was told, pushing her bottom out so that he could lift her skirt and land a single hard smack across her bare cheeks. She responded with a yelp, then smiled and reached out for his hand as they continued along the cutting.
“We could talk to Vicky now, if you like?” she suggested. “She's playing hockey this afternoon, but we can wait til she's finished, if you've got time?”
“I can make time,” Peter answered after an instant to weigh the loss of missing dinner against the gain of watching girls play hockey in their gym knickers and singlets. “I'll stay back in the woods if you can get her after the game.”
Tiffany nodded and they walked on, hand in hand, to where the cutting began a long, slow turn that took it past the end of the St. Monica's playing fields. It was familiar ground to Peter, from many a voyeuristic expedition. From the safety of the trees they were soon watching the hockey gamesâ a sight which never failed to send the blood to his cock. The senior girls were on the nearest field, one team in bottle green singlets and white gym knickers, the other with the colors reversed, but each and every one of them with making a fine show of nubile curves beneath the clinging fabric.
Alice and Christine were immediately obvious, playing on the wings, also Emerald, captaining the same team with her full bottom straining against the seat of her white gym knickers. The captain of the other team was a tall girl with an athletic figure and a tumble of tawny blonde curls, perhaps not as overtly feminine as some of the other girls, but with an air of confident superiority that made him long to bring her to heel.
“Vicky Trent?” he asked, pointing out the tall girl.
“Yes,” Tiffany answered. “How did you know?”
“She looks as if she'd be Head Girl, that's all,” Peter replied. “Do you think we could have her on the receiving end instead? I'd love to see her spanked.”
“Vicky?” Tiffany said, shocked. “Never! Nobody would dare.”
“I would,” Peter replied. “But never mind, let's stick to what's practical. Go and talk to her when the game's over, but try not to be too obvious about it or we might arouse suspicions. It's vital nobody suspects that you gave her the idea for the spanking contest.”
“Yes, of course,” Tiffany replied. “She'll want to talk to me anyway, because I was supposed to be playing.”
“Won't you get into trouble?”
“I got a note from the under matron, she's a mug.”
The game was soon over and Tiffany trotted confidently out from among the trees, leaving Peter to watch as she spoke first to the nun who had been referee for the game, then to Vicky. Emerald's team had won and were gathered together in an excited huddle, but most of the others made straight for the changing rooms and Tiffany had soon managed to get Vicky alone. The tall girl's face looked puzzled as she came towards the woods, but she was nodding and greeted Peter with the same casual confidence she'd shown on the playing field.
“So you're Tiffs' mysterious boyfriend, are you?” she asked, looking him up and down. “Not bad, I suppose. A bit scruffy, maybe, but not bad.”
Peter felt himself start to bridle at her remark but he forced a smile and extended his hand.
“Peter Finch, pleased to meet you,” he said.
“Vicky Trent,” she answered, accepting his hand after no more than an instant of hesitation. “Tiffs tells me you've got a money making scheme on the go?”
“Yes,” Peter told her and began to explain his plans.
Vicky listened, first looking surprised and a bit annoyed, but not shocked, and as Peter carried on his initial embarrassment began to fade. She shrugged as he finished, gave Tiffany a searching look, then turned back to him.
“You're a dirty pervert, do you know that?” she demanded. “But yes, I can see it would work, done the right way. Only, you have to let me do the organizing and I get half the money.”
“One third,” Peter pointed out. “There are three of us.”
“Half,” Vicky insisted. “I'm the one taking the risks. If I get caught that means the cane, six strokes in front of assembly, maybe twelve. You do realize I'm Head Girl?”
“Yes,” Peter admitted, “but still ⦔
“And another thing, I'm not dressing up as a penguin.”
“But that's essential,” Peter protested. “It's supposed to be a genuine punishment, from the nuns.”
“That's not going to work,” Vicky retorted. “I can tell the girls it's a competition for cash and they'll take a spanking, and maybe I could explain why I was dressed like a penguin. But if we got caught I'd get two dozen strokes of the cane in assembly, bare bottom, and I'd get expelled.”
“That's awkward ⦔ Peter admitted, trailing off as he tried to think of a way around the problem, only for Vicky to carry on talking before he could come up with anything.
“You can explain it's a Head Girl's punishment. They'll believe that, and it will explain why the girls aren't all that reluctant too, because I'm sure all you perverts over at Broadfields think we're in and out of each other's knickers all day long. So I want half the money, and I want to do the spanking as well.”
“I thought Rosa ⦔
“We don't need Rosa.”
“I want it done a certain way,” Peter persisted, “with one nun to pull the girls' knickers down and another to do the spanking. That way there's plenty to see.”
Vicky gave him a look of disgust and shook her head.
“You get to see the spankings, and that's more than enough for a bunch of little perverts like you. But don't worry, it'll be knickers down, and I'll make them do time in the corner, you know, bare bottom to the room and hands on their heads.”
“That's great,” Peter went on, still obstinate. “But I want the girls' knickers pulled down first, like a sort of pageant line. So they're paraded with their bottoms bare while they're waiting for their spankings, then spanked, then sent to line up against the wall. And I want to see everything, so you're to make sure the girls' legs are open while they're spanked.”
“You really are a pervert, aren't you?” Vicky answered.
“I don't piss on girls in the shower,” Peter answered, taking a chance that Tiffany's fantasy had been at least partially based on truth.
Vicky went scarlet instantly, casting a furious glance at Tiffany, then spoke to Peter once more.
“Okay, if that's the way you want it, how about having the girls pull each other's knickers down before they go over my lap?”
“Alright,” Peter agreed, intrigued. This idea seemed likely to be just as shameful for the girls as his own idea had been, even if the situation seemed to be slipping slightly out of his control. “I'll leave the rest of the details to you, but if any of the girls I mentioned won't do it, you have to find a substitute. A pretty one.”
Vicky nodded briefly before rounding on Tiffany.
“You little sneak! Some things are secret, really secret!”
“I ⦠I was only playing!” Tiffany stammered. “You shouldn't have said anything, Peter! Sorry, Vicky, but ⦔
“You will be,” Vicky assured her. “Now come here.”
“No, Vicky, please, not in front of Peter, please!” Tiffany babbled, backing hastily away.
“Come. Here.” Vicky repeated, her voice firm and commanding. “You know the rules.”
“Rules?” Peter asked, intrigued and fascinated by what was about to happen for all his instinct to defend Tiffany.
“What girls do together is supposed to be private,” Tiffany said weakly. “Sorry, Vicky, I am really am, but couldn't you do me later?”
“Don't be prissy,” Vicky told her. “You know you've got it coming to you, and I bet he's seen plenty already, you little show-off. Now come here!”
Tiffany was red faced and looked ready for tears, finally prompting Peter into action.
“Maybe she doesn't want to be spanked?”
“Who said anything about her being spanked?” Vicky retorted. “She's going to get that anyway, isn't she, when your dirty little scheme comes off.”
“What are you going to do?” Peter asked in horrified fascination. “Not ⦔
“That's right, I'm going to pee on her,” Vicky told him. “What, are you shocked? You seemed to think that girls did this sort of thing all the time? Come here, Tiffs, you know you deserve this.”
“You don't have to let her, not if you don't want to,” Peter said, but Tiffany shook her head.
“I do deserve it, but not here, please, Vicky! I'll be all sticky and smelly, and what if the penguins catch me trying to get in? What am I supposed to say, that I wet myself, all over?”
“You should have thought of this before you told your boyfriend a secret like that,” Vicky answered. “It's not like it's just kissing or playing strip, is it? That was special, Tiffany!”
“I thought you did it to punish her?” Peter put in. “But look ⦔
“You stay out of this,” Vicky told him. “But no, it wasn't a punishment, it was something between Tiffany and me, something I didn't want getting out to a load of dirty minded boys!”
She looked ready to cry and Peter found himself shrugging uncomfortably, realizing that his cock was now a solid, aching bar within his pants, as he responded.
“I'll keep it secret, I promise,” he said. “Word of honor.”
Vicky gave him a doubtful look, but when she spoke again it was to Tiffany.
“Okay, I'll do it in your mouth and you can swallow, but you're not getting off.”
“In her mouth?” Peter asked weakly.
Both girls ignored him, Tiffany shame-faced and shaking as she got slowly down to her knees in the leaf mold, Vicky with her hands on her hips and her nose stuck in the air, although she too was trembling.
“Clothes off,” Vicky ordered as Tiffany turned wide, frightened eyes up to her. “Or you can leave them on, but they'll probably get wet. If anything drips down your tits you can mop it up with your knickers.”
“I don't have any on,” Tiffany answered, quickly lifting the front of her skirt to give a flash of the exposed, downy triangle between her thighs.
“You little minx!” Vicky laughed. “Going to meet your boyfriend with no knickers on under your skirt?”