Home  | Login | Bookshelf | Help | Reader
Search
 
Advanced Search

Fiction
Alternate History
Children's Fiction
Classic Literature
Dark Fantasy
Erotic Science Fiction
Erotica
Fantasy
Gay Fiction
Gay-Lesbian Erotica
Historical Fiction
Horror
Humor
Mainstream
Mystery/Crime
Paranormal Erotica
Romance
Science Fiction
Suspense/Thriller
Young Adult

Nonfiction
Business
Children's Nonfiction
Education
Family/Relationships
General Nonfiction
Health/Fitness
History
People
Personal Finance
Politics/Government
Reference
Self Improvement
Spiritual/Religion
Sports/Entertainment
Technology/Science
Travel
True Crime

Browse
Authors
Award-Winners
Bestsellers
eMagazines
Free eBooks
New eBooks
Publishers

Information
General FAQ
Privacy
Contact



 
Dear eBookwise Customer:

We are no longer selling eBooks through this site. You can continue to access and enjoy the eBooks in your eBookwise library. You can obtain new content for your eBookwise-1150 by purchasing MultiFormat eBooks at Fictionwise.com.

Please see the FAQ for more information.

Thank you!

The eBookwise Team



Click on image to enlarge.

Zuleika's Correction [Mrs. Smith's Academy #4]
by Clemency Jopling

Category: Erotica/Classic Erotica
Description: Discipline in the Classic Victorian Tradition. When 18-year-old Zuleika Merriwether's mother discovers that she has been having an affair with a married man, Zuleika is packed off to Mrs Smith's Academy for "corrective training." When Zuleika arrives at Mrs Smith's, her attitude forces the headmistress, Miss Harrington, to punish her severely. Miss Harrington is determined to make Zuleika understand from the outset that the Academy will not tolerate disobedience and misbehavior. Zuleika's adventures and misadventures after that ensure that she will need, and benefit from, precisely the kind of corrective discipline that Mrs Smith's is famous for.
eBook Publisher: Renaissance E Books/Sizzler, 2005
eBookwise Release Date: July 2005

eBookeBook

9 Reader Ratings:
Great Good OK Poor
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [146 KB]
Words: 33912
Reading time: 96-135 min.


CHAPTER 1

'So,' said Miss Harrington. 'You do understand, Zuleika, that I have absolutely no alternative but to punish you most severely. You do see that, don't you, Zuleika?'

Zuleika Merriwether gave a deep sigh. She wasn't at all keen on being whacked with that strap thingy, and then with the cane. But she could see no alternative.

'Yes, Miss Harrington,' she said meekly. 'I do see.'

'Because you have, when all is said and done, been an extremely naughty girl, haven't you?'

Zuleika sighed again. 'Yes, Miss Harrington.'

'What have you been?'

'I've been a very naughty girl, Miss Harrington.'

Quite frankly, at the age of eighteen and a half, Zuleika thought that it was silly to be talked to as if she was about ten. But such was the power of Miss Harrington's personality that Zuleika had found herself agreeing with everything that was said to her.

If this interview with the Headmistress went on much longer, Zuleika could see that she would end up positively begging the Headmistress to hit her harder than ever. So she thought it best, on the whole, to say yes to everything and just hope that her punishment would be over quickly.

'Very well,' said Miss Harrington. 'So punish you I most certainly will. Kindly bend over that chair.'

* * * *

It was Friday the first of September, 1939, and it had been a bad day for Zuleika. In fact it had been a thoroughly rotten week all round.

Things had gone just wonderfully until Tuesday afternoon. On Tuesday morning Zuleika had had a lovely letter from Brian. (Brian was the man with whom she had been having mad passionate sex for the past six months.) In this letter, Brian had confirmed that it would be safe for her to call at his house that afternoon, because his wife would be out playing bridge. And he had described all sorts of lovely things that he would be doing to her when she got there. Zuleika had looked forward to those lovely things all morning.

In the afternoon she had gone round to Brian's house, as planned, and he had been just as nice to her as he had promised. He had stripped her completely naked--of course--and had taken off all his clothes too. That was nice, because sometimes when they did it in his car they couldn't really take off as much as she would like.

And then he had spent a long time dribbling cream down her breasts and licking it off the nipples. Then he had made her kneel down in front of him (thoughtfully providing a pillow for her knees), and he had made her lick and suck his cock until it grew really hard and long, and the end was a deep, dark red color, and it throbbed when she put her tongue in the little hole on the end of it.

And then he had more or less thrown her on the bed. Zuleika liked that because Brian was really strong and hairy and she liked it when he threw her about. And then he had got down on top of her and had shoved his cock in really hard, and had rammed her up to the end of the bed in no time at all.

On the way home, after that really lovely afternoon with Brian, Zuleika had felt all dreamy and happy. He had filled her so full of spunk that she could feel it running down into her knickers and making them wet. But she didn't mind that because it reminded her of what she and Brian had done, and all that licking and sucking and really, really hard fucking--the sort that made you sweat and grunt and shout. And Zuleika liked to be able to shout, because once again it was something that you couldn't always do, if you were in the back seat of the car or something. So she liked to be able to call out Yes! And Yes! And Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!

When she got home, however, all that changed. Because as soon as she came in the door, there was Mummy, throwing a fit and waving her diary about. Zuleika's diary, that is. Not Mummy's.

'And what,' screeched Mummy, 'is the meaning of this?'

Mummy, it turned out, was a sneaky bitch, because Mummy had gone into Zuleika's bedroom and had read her secret and intimate diary, in which Zuleika kept a detailed record of the number of times she and Brian had fucked each other, and what they did and how it felt and how lovely it all was. And now Mummy was screeching and stamping and tearing her hair out and generally going bananas about something that was really not her business at all.

And then Daddy had arrived, because Daddy had been Sent For. By Mummy. And Mummy and Daddy went into Daddy's study together--without Zuleika--and there was a lot more screeching and stamping and general goings on.

It was all a bit boring really, so Zuleika made herself several slices of bread and peanut butter, and ate them, because one way and another it looked as if Mummy was not going to get around to cooking the dinner any time soon.

Eventually Mummy and Daddy came out and spoke to Zuleika in the kitchen.

Daddy said that this was a Very Serious Matter. Mummy said that it might Set Back Daddy's Career. And there was a lot more moaning and groaning of the same kind.

Zuleika thought it was all a bit much really. It seemed to her that a girl of eighteen ought to be allowed a bit of privacy. In particular, no decent Mummy would ever go into a girl's bedroom and read her personal and private diary. That was a bit much, really, Zuleika thought.

So, come bedtime on Tuesday, Zuleika had been made to feel that she had stolen the crown jewels and burnt down the Houses of Parliament. That, at any rate, could hardly have caused any more fuss than was generated by the discovery that Zuleika had been having mad passionate sex with Brian.

Daddy said that Zuleika was gated until further notice. That meant that she could not go out of the house or see her friends. And especially she could not see Brian. Mummy said that she must Never Speak to That Man Again.

Of course Zuleika did go out. Whenever she wanted to. She just slid down the garage roof, hopped on to the water butt, and bogged off whenever she felt like it.

Most of the time she went round to see her Granny--Daddy's Mummy, that was.

Granny was a lot more fun than Mummy, and often said that she didn't see why Daddy had ever married that ghastly bitch (i.e. Mummy) in the first place. So Granny wasn't altogether surprised to hear that Zuleika's name was now thickly encrusted with mud. In fact, not only was she not surprised, she was greatly amused by the whole thing.

'I gather,' Granny said, with a twinkle in her eye, 'that you are going to be sent to Mrs Smith's.'

'Am I?' said Zuleika.

'Oh yes.'

'What's Mrs Smith's? Is it a finishing school?'

Granny fairly chortled. 'Well it's finished off a good few girls that I've heard about, yes. It's an academy, Zuleika. Mrs Smith's Academy for Young Ladies. It's a boarding school for girls aged between about eighteen and twenty-one. It's over in Bedmore, about twenty-five miles from here. And you only get sent there if you've done something really wicked.'

'What, like murder, or something?'

'Well, not quite that bad,' said Granny. 'But going to bed with a married man would qualify you all right. And then there are girls who are disobedient and lazy, girls who steal things, get into fights, use filthy language, get drunk. All the usual kind of wickedness that parents like your Mummy and Daddy don't approve of. And when parents find out that they can't get their girls to stop doing these things, they send them off to Mrs Smith's to be straightened out.'

Zuleika was puzzled. 'And how do they get straightened out?'

'Mostly by giving them a good whacking with the old school cane, from what I hear,' said Granny. 'Better take some thick knickers with you when you go there, Zuleika.'

That made Zuleika think a bit, there was no doubt about that.

'Of course,' said Granny thoughtfully, 'it is a very expensive school. So you'll meet a very nice class of person there, Zuleika. Even if they are all naughty girls. I expect you'll have a lot of fun. Once you get used to it.'

On Friday Daddy had driven Zuleika over to Mrs Smith's and had more or less dumped her on the doorstep.

'The thing is, Zuleika,' he told her on the way, 'Your Mummy and I are so severely displeased with you that we have told the Headmistress that we really don't want you back at home at all, at least not until you are a changed girl. The Headmistress has told us that she cannot guarantee success in less than three years. So that's how long you will be there. We don't even want to see you back in the holidays. At least not until the Headmistress can assure us that you will be no further trouble.'

Three years! That sounded like an awfully long time! Still, Zuleika had enjoyed being at her previous boarding school, and as far as she could gather this was just going to be more of the same, except perhaps rather stricter. And as for not being able to go home--well, frankly she couldn't care less about that. There was no one at home--except Brian, and Granny--whom she would miss at all.

Even her guinea pig had died--two months ago.

* * * *

And now here was Zuleika, being lectured by the Headmistress.

The Academy's Michaelmas term did not begin until next Monday, so on the Friday Zuleika was the only girl there; she and the Headmistress had plenty of time to get to know each other.

The Headmistress of Mrs Smith's Academy, in the September of 1939, was Miss Harrington--often known by her nickname, Harry.

Miss Harrington was aged just over forty; she was a single lady (though not without gentlemen admirers, who had to wait until the holidays to see much of her). She was normally dressed in a fashion which was then more or less expected of the head of a girls' school or college, but which would today be thought eccentric.

She wore a severely tailored brown suit, very similar to a man's, with a pale cream blouse and a green tie. The outfit was completed by men's woolen knee socks and brown brogues. When she went out she was inclined to wear a trilby hat. Oh, and she had a monocle, on a ribbon round her neck; this was used for close work.

Miss Harrington was seated behind her desk, while Zuleika stood in front of her, in the at-ease posture adopted by soldiers, her feet slightly apart and her hands linked behind her back. This was the usual drill when Miss Harrington addressed the young ladies in her care: they stood in front of the desk; she sat behind it.

Miss Harrington opened a folder. 'As soon as your father phoned me, Zuleika--in a state bordering upon panic, I have to say--I wrote a letter to the head of your previous school, asking her for an assessment of your character. Fortunately the good lady replied by return of post. I have it here.'

Miss Harrington waved a piece of paper.

'She declares that you are not a girl with much academic ability, Zuleika. Failed the school certificate, I understand.'

'Yes, Miss,' murmured Zuleika. Failed it badly, if truth be told.

'But you are, on the other hand, excellent at games. Captain of hockey, captain of cricket. Rather good at lacrosse. Too big for gymnastics--slender girls do best at that, I always feel--and not a graceful dancer.

'As for moral character,' Miss Harrington continued, 'she says that you are honest, reliable, hard-working within your limits, and conscientious. A good prefect, with a helpful supply of common sense.'

Miss Harrington put down the piece of paper and lowered her monocle. 'As for the sexual side of things, she declares that you have a passionate nature, and that she is not remotely surprised that you have been doing what comes naturally. As she so tactfully puts it.'

Zuleika shifted uneasily on her feet. She wondered where this was leading.

'So, Zuleika, we have both good news and bad news. The good news is that your previous school thinks quite well of you, though you have serious limitations on the academic side--limitations which, in the course of the next three years, we shall strive to overcome. The bad news is that your parents feel that you have seriously let them down. Carrying on with a married man is not something that we encourage. Please be aware, therefore, that I shall punish you today--here and now--for your sins to date. And that from now on I shall be keeping a most careful eye on you. Do you understand?'

'Yes, Miss.'

Despite her determination not to let anything at Mrs Smith's Academy worry her, Zuleika began to feel just a little bit apprehensive. She remembered what her Granny had told her.

Miss Harrington rose to her feet and went to a cupboard behind her desk. After a moment she turned around and laid a number of implements on the desk.

'Observe,' she said. 'Our method of punishment here at Mrs Smith's is that which was established by our noble founder in the nineteenth century. That is to say, we use corporal punishment, administered to the bare bottom.'

The bare bottom! So much for Granny's helpful advice! Zuleika had taken the precaution of wearing three pairs of knickers; but that, apparently, would be no help.

'With a girl like you,' said Miss Harrington, 'who is new to us, I use three different implements, one after the other. First, a table-tennis bat.'

She held it up.

'This is simply to ensure that, in the case of a girl new to this kind of thing, her circulation is flowing sufficiently well to alert all her nerve ends, and to ensure that no permanent damage is done....

'Next there is the strap--what is known in Scottish schools as a tawse, I believe. This, as you can see, is a long piece of thick leather, split at one end, and slightly shaped at the other end to facilitate a tight grip. I am told that it causes a remarkable amount of pain. And finally--' Miss Harrington raised the third implement '--finally we have the cane. Just the normal type of cane, traditionally used for this purpose in schools, with one end curved like a walking stick. Not too thick, and not too whippy. This type of cane has been used here for many generations, and we find that it is a wonderful deterrent. Most girls who are caned find that, for a while at least, they are determined not to offend again.'

Miss Harrington rose to her feet and began to unbutton her jacket. Zuleika's heart sank. Clearly the Headmistress did not intend to have the movement of her arm inhibited by the cut of her clothes.

'As I mentioned a moment ago, we administer all corporal punishment on the uncovered flesh, so kindly begin by taking off your skirt.'

For a moment Miss Harrington was occupied with the removal of her jacket, which she draped over the back of her chair. When she turned back she noted that Zuleika had not moved.

'Oh dear me,' she said. 'I do hope you aren't going to be silly. In the past we have had a number of silly girls here who have refused to accept their punishment, and that just creates wearisome difficulties. Our founder, Mrs Smith herself, always used to tie girls down--tie them to a small pine table, with hands and ankles being firmly secured on to the legs of the table. I do not normally go as far as that myself, but I can, if necessary, summon the assistance of two strong men from the gardener's staff, and they will hold you down if you resist. I must say that, when this has been done in the past, the task seems to have been most warmly appreciated by the gentlemen concerned, and I am sure that they would welcome the chance to assist me with you.'

Zuleika seemed to come out of a daze. 'Oh, sorry, sorry,' she muttered. 'I just hadn't realized that you meant me to start now.' And she began to take off her skirt.

Miss Harrington sighed. 'I just don't think you were paying attention, Zuleika,' she said. 'Well, perhaps after I have beaten you, you will realize that in future you should pay very close attention to what I say.'

Zuleika draped her skirt over a chair by the door.

'And the knickers,' said Miss Harrington.

Zuleika removed them, trying hard to disguise the fact that she was wearing three pairs. But Miss Harrington saw everything. 'Hmm!' she sniffed.

Miss Harrington next made her little speech about having absolutely no choice but to punish Zuleika most severely--a speech which we digested at the very start of this chapter--and then she moved another chair into a suitable position in front of her desk.

'Kindly bend over that chair,' she said.

Zuleika, her heart pounding, prepared herself for the first stroke. But of course Miss Harrington was far too wily a bird to begin at once. Many years of inflicting pain upon the rounded globes of nubile young women had taught her that having to wait is, in its way, even more horrible than actually being hit with something. And so she took her time, going for a little walk around her subject and assessing the situation.

'Hmm,' she said thoughtfully. 'You are quite a well-built girl, aren't you Zuleika?'

'Yes, Miss.' It seemed best to agree with everything.

'Quite a voluptuous figure. A splendid example of the benefits of regular exercise, lots of fresh air, and good food. No doubt I shall see the rest of you before long, but I won't trouble you to take off the remainder of your clothing just now. After you leave here, you will be given a cup of tea and a biscuit or two, and then you will be interviewed by Miss Blythe, my deputy headmistress. Among other things, Miss Blythe is in charge of games here, and has overall responsibility for the physical well-being of our girls. She will subject you to a full-scale physical examination, and will record your weight and so forth. If you are lucky, she will no doubt administer a soothing ointment to your nether regions.'

Zuleika kept her head well down, but out of the corner of her eye she saw Miss Harrington pick up the table-tennis bat.

'Now tell me, Zuleika. When you allowed this married man to have his wicked way with you, did you take any sort of precautions in order to avoid becoming pregnant?'

'No, Miss.'

'You just let him shoot it all into you, did you?'

'Yes, Miss.'

'I don't suppose he ever pulled out in time, or anything like that?'

'No, Miss.'

'No, I don't suppose he did, the selfish brute. He was no doubt all too happy to meet someone as green as you. Well, Zuleika, if we do nothing else for you here, we shall at least ensure that you know how to avoid any unfortunate accidents.'

The first stroke, when it came, was entirely unexpected, because Zuleika had been expecting the lecture to continue. But now Miss Harrington set to with a will, whacking away at Zuleika's buttocks with a surprising amount of force and energy.

First the left buttock, then the right. Whack, whack, whack, she went. Zuleika was astonished that a woman who was rather slight of build, and who looked as if she might blow away in a high wind, could generate so much force.

And it--ow!--certainly--ow!--hurt! Ow!

'Ah yes,' said Miss Harrington, pausing for a moment. 'That reminds me. I didn't fully explain the Academy's punishment rules. You are allowed to cry out in pain. You may say Ow, or Ouch, or give little squeaks, according to your temperament. Screaming, I'm afraid, will get you absolutely nowhere, except perhaps into my bad books. It will make me angry, and when I get angry I beat even harder, so I strongly advise you to make as little fuss as possible.'

Miss Harrington put her hand on Zuleika's bottom and stroked the flesh, apparently testing the temperature.

'Hmm. Your skin develops a lovely glow when walloped, Zuleika,' she said. 'A most pleasing effect. What a pity you cannot see it yourself. However, we are coming along nicely.'

And, having rested herself, Miss Harrington recommenced work with the table-tennis bat.

Ow, ow, ow! thought Zuleika. But she did her best not to emit any sound other than the occasional grunt which was forced out of her by a particularly well placed blow.

'Ah,' said Miss Harrington, when a further pause seemed necessary. 'There is another rule which I have not mentioned. You are not allowed to move your feet. Some girls, when being beaten, are inclined to lift one or other foot off the floor and raise it towards their bottom, either consciously or unconsciously seeking to interfere with the trajectory of the instrument being used. This is not allowed, and will result in a repetition of the blow being administered.'

Another blow was administered, just to illustrate the point.

'Do you understand, girl?'

'Yes, Miss Harrington,' Zuleika blurted out. It was as much as she could do not to go ow ow OW! And clutch her bottom in protest, but she sensed that such a move would not be wise.

'And finally,' said Miss Harrington, whacking away with a steady, regular rhythm, 'you must not (whack), of course (whack), cover your bottom (whack) with your hands (whack), or stand up (whack). Carrying out any (whack) of those maneuvers (whack) will incur (whack) my displeasure (whack).... There now. You may stand up straight for a moment, keeping your feet where they are, and you may rub your bottom.'

Zuleika took advantage of all these kind offers and rubbed her bottom long and hard. She winced, mouthing rather than saying out loud all the words she wanted to say, such Ooh, and Ouch, and Ooh, again.

Zuleika could now see what Miss Harrington was doing. The Headmistress put down the table-tennis bat and picked up the strap, otherwise known as the tawse.

'Your previous headmistress tells me that she was obliged to chastise you with distressing frequency.'

'Yes, Miss.'

'Minor transgressions, for the most part, caused by thoughtlessness and forgetfulness, but sufficiently frequent as to require regular correction.'

'Yes, Miss.'

'Well, that being so, and bearing in mind the comfortable degree of padding on your posterior, you can expect some hard pounding, as the Duke of Wellington might say, from me.'

'Yes, Miss.'

Zuleika had no idea who the Duke of Wellington might be, or what he had to do with anything, but she understood hard pounding all right, and she began to feel just a little bit sorry for herself. Whatever else it might be, Mrs Smith's Academy was clearly not a place for softies.

'Now--bend again.'

Miss Harrington took up position for the next round of the punishment. She shuffled her feet, Zuleika noticed, so as to give herself a firm position on the carpet.

'So far,' the Headmistress declared, 'we have just been warming you up with the table-tennis bat. Preparing the nerve ends, as I explained to you earlier. I presume you can count up to twenty.'

Twenty! Twenty whacks with the tawse? Zuleika could hardly believe her ears. The most strokes she had ever had at her other place was six! And that was only once.

'Well?' snapped Miss Harrington. 'Can you count or not?'

'Yes, Miss!' Zuleika declared quickly.

'Good. Then count these. Out loud.'

And she began to administer the tawse.

Every stroke, it seemed to Zuleika, was delivered with as much force as the Headmistress could muster. With her head down, Zuleika could still see the Head's feet, and from the slight movement of the feet as the swing was delivered, Zuleika could anticipate the arrival of each blow.

She had received three before Miss Harrington reminded her that she wasn't counting. 'Start again!' commanded Miss Harrington. 'Blows that you don't recognize do not count in the total! Perhaps that will teach you to pay attention in future.'

So stroke number one was actually stroke number four.

What was worse, at number fourteen Zuleika lifted her left foot off the floor.

'Raising a foot!' called Miss Harrington, and Zuleika thought that she detected a distressing note of glee in the Head's tone of voice. As if she actually liked beating a girl's bottom. 'I will repeat the stroke.' Which she did.

'Fourteen!' repeated Zuleika. 'And ow, ow, ow!'

'Fifteen! Ow, double Ow! That really hurts! Ow, sixteen.... Ooh, seventeen.... Oh Miss Harrington, please! Ow, eighteen.... Nineteen.... Twenty!'

'Do NOT,' insisted Miss Harrington, 'stand up, move your feet, or rub your bottom without permission. Clear?'

'Yes, Miss Harrington,' said Zuleika tearfully. In fact she was very close to blubbing, and she hadn't actually blubbed for ... ooh, ages. But she clung to the seat of the chair for all she was worth, and tried hard to stop her legs from trembling.

Oh, crikey, she thought, I can't stand much more of this.

'Now, you may stand up and rub your bottom again.'

Painfully, Zuleika raised her upper body, taking great care not to move her feet, because she was anxious not to break any more of the rules. Then she began to rub away at her backside, though she was forced to proceed with some delicacy because the flesh was grossly inflamed.

Ow, she thought. Ow bloody ow! How much longer is this going to go on?


eBook Icon Explanations:
eBook Discounted eBook; added within the last 7 days.
eBook eBook was added within the last 30 days.
eBook eBook is in our best seller list.
eBook eBook is in our highest rated list.
 
Home | Login |  Bookshelf |  Privacy |  Terms of Use |  Help
All pages Fictionwise, Inc. 2004- . All Rights Reserved.