House Calls - The Plan…

January the 21st 2005 Some of my Lady friends decided one of our old games was long overdue. I had to agree, the fun had subdued somewhat as we had been very busy the past year, but it was time for a Saturday caravan. We talked into the morning hours, sipping our chilled drinks, enjoying each other's company. There were six of us, all very lovely women, all of us coming from the same path of desires and pushing the limits. I suggested that it had to do with the private girls school we all attended together. With their strict rules, spankings on bare bottoms and the weekly "examinations". Yes, I argued, imagine not having grown up with that kind of thing. Did any of us think our circumstance might be a tad different? I most certainly did. I loved the girl's school. It was plush and exclusive and had female bodies for day's breasts and thighs and plenty of girls who willingly gave themselves to my tongue whenever I wanted it. I was twelve when I first pushed myself on an older student. She loved it but would not reciprocate. I grew angry, bit her right nipple and flounced out of my room. The next day all the older girls were watching me, one even offering to fetch me more tea. They all wanted it without being called a "lesbian". What foolishness in a young girl's mind, as if the mere touch on a swollen vulva could mean the difference between beatings and blessings around that place. Proper young ladies didn't do that. No Head Mistress, they diddle each other once the lights go out. The delights of a private education. I shivered with revere and a mild amusement. The memories flood back to me as we planned for our "house calls" weekend. I remembered the Master of Physical Education. He felt nothing was more important for young girls than the upkeep of their fresh and strong bodies. He was a cataclysmic pervert waiting to happen and I was quite glad as a young woman when I heard that the school had dismissed him. Always thought him more trouble than he would ever be worth. I also remembered the first time I'd seen the Head Mistress ever administered physical punishment to one of us girls. I'd never even been shouted at back home, let alone beaten. I'd never seen anything like it. We were summoned first thing in the morning to the day room, three of the teachers and about fourteen of the newest girls averaging in ages from ten to university age. The HM, very stern faced, her hair pulling it into even more of a grimace with the tight bun, looked as though ready to explode. Many of us found the idea of her exploding a comforting thought. She had the offending girl stand before her and pull her nightgown and bend over. She called out to one of the older girls, Millicent, who approached. The girl bent over had a fine bottom, stuck high in the air. Millicent took the strap from Head Mistress and began the girl's punishment. The first three or four hard strapping left large welts and made great loud smacking noises. Each time, the girl squealed and cried harder. After ten very hard lashes, the Head Mistress instructed the older girl to stop and had the offender stand, inspecting the ruby sheen of her bottom The girl sobbed pitifully. I remember feeling so much excitement in my groin watching her cry like that, seeing her reddened flesh... I was once again snapped out of my revere and we all agreed that our House Calls weekend was a go. We made preparations for meeting up the beginning of the following week. Time to implement delights and decadence from our past. Later, in my room at the Lodge, I contemplated the fun of a Saturday Caravan and decided that I didn't care how I came to my decadent nature, I had it, nurtured it and lived my fantasies all the time. This was yet another example of the desire to live as we imagine. Make the theatrics work and nothing is impossible. I lay on the big soft bed, naked fresh from the shower, and began stroking my breasts. I love my breasts and most of my slaves and lovers have drooled on them, sucking my long hard nipples. My nipples are legendary and have had some of the bluest blooded lips on them in the kingdom. From our underground aristocracy, most have tasted of these fruits. I pulled my right breast up and flicked out at my nipple with my tongue. I loved the taste of my own body, including my cunt juices. I pushed at my clit with my other hand, stroking it softly as I remembered my first chance to spank one of the other girls in the school when I was a girl. The Head Mistress chose me that day and as I took hold of the strap, I felt my crotch wet so much that it ran slowly down my leg. I swear my first hint at orgasm happened that day, too. I spanked the offender with everything I had in me, watching, as that white soft flesh grew more and more red. I even got the chance to stroke the flesh between strokes. Now that was a day I would never forget. I moved my fluids around over my clit as I remembered. After pleasuring myself to orgasm, I had one of the most restful sleeps I've had in ages. I don't know if it was the remembrances from days past, or the excitement and subsequent climax from the vivid images of the girls with whom I went to school. Rounded bottoms, bend over, cotton panties at the ankles. I wanted to spank each perfect bottom. I drifted off to sleep picturing how much fun we were going to have this weekend. A few of our group couldn't do the caravan, but there would be three of us. Enough and more, for the fun we had planned. Last night had been wonderful, next weekend would be grand, and I'd be heading home in the morning, to make preparation. It would take some planning to pull off our plan, but it was doable and I'd have my secretary make most of the arrangements. I'd think more about it in the morning. For now, I breathed in and relaxed against the expensive linen of my bed...