Mt. Ashby Academy-The Twins

Lifted from Pentych's awesome Tumblr Blog

Lifted from Pentych’s awesome Tumblr Blog

Fresh out of the shower and alone in the locker room, Alex Tao twisted to look over her shoulder into the mirror. She had given up ever being entirely happy with the size of her bottom but she did like it better dusted and crisscrossed with the light blue bruises that Colleen left her with weekly. A couple of the darker ones were fading to an autumnal gold color signaling the time was nearing for a fresh set. The girl had learned the art of the cane quickly and Alex, in turn, was feeling more relaxed and able to focus on the tasks of running Mt. Ashby.

She dressed slowly-leisurely-knowing that her secretary would have the office open and tea made by the time she got there fresh from her morning workout and elbow rehab. Slacks today and a white silk top under a smart navy blazer that covered the elastic brace that she still wore on her elbow. She laced up her sneakers for the brisk walk across the quad and up the steps two at a time. Her mood was bright and she wore one of those goofy “just happy” smiles people wear when they were in a good mood for no real reason. Then she opened the door to her office suite and felt the smile, along with her mood, freeze then drain away.

There, in the outer office, sat the twins, Camilla on the couch and Philip on the hard backed chair. They weren’t “twins” actually more-what used to be called in less enlightened times-Irish twins; born eleven months apart sharing the same age for a few weeks. Camilla, slouching, affected the infuriating insouciant pose that held most people, including her professors, at arm’s length. Her clothes-though the most expensive and fashionable money could buy-blue corduroys and oxford cloth striped shirt and sport coat-were intentionally oversized and thrown together to give her the look of a very expensively dressed asexual ragamuffin. Her short blond hair, cut in a boyish bob, lay just over her ears, as her bangs fell across her forehead from the side part.

Philip, making a perfunctory move to rise when she entered the room, shared his sister’s slight build but was darker, more of a sandy, straw blonde than Camilla’s lighter yellow. She had probably dyed it, of course. While she was small and pretty behind the perpetual indifferent pout, his face was more pointed and feral.

“Please, Philip, sit. No need to get up”, Alex said closing the door.

Why had she said that? Of course he should have gotten up when she, any woman, entered the room. What was it about these two than forced everyone who crossed their paths to defer to them? Was it because they were rich and that the gym annex carried their grandfather’s name? A lot of people here were rich-Ashby wasn’t for everyone. Most of the bottoms she crossed with welts were attached to walking wallets whose monthly stipend exceeded Alex’s yearly salary.

“Is Colleen, my secretary, here?”

He nodded to her office door.

Colleen was in her office looking out the window. “We have guests”, Alex sarcastically whispered.

“Sorry, yes.” Colleen turned to face her boss. “I couldn’t stay out there with them any longer. They don’t talk and when you do they look at you like you’re speaking another language. I figured I’d come in here and….file.” She shrugged.

“Why are they here? Do we have any reports on them?”

“Nothing that I know of but they brought that”, she nodded at a sealed envelope on the desk. It was addressed to “Ms. Tao” and adorned with the seal of the Chancellor’s office.

“They said Mr. Foster sent them over.”

Alex opened the envelope and read the typed notice.

“Let me be, would you?” she asked Colleen, picking up the phone. Colleen left as she dialed. “Mr. Foster, please…Thank you”

While she waiting to be transferred she read the note over again. She was to cane the twins due to their ‘recalcitrant behavior as regards their financial obligations to Mt. Ashby…’

“Foster here.” His voice was hard and deep. Probably an affectation for phone conversations to make him sound older than he was. Which was a few years younger than Alex.

“Good Morning Wallace. Alex Tao…I have the twins over here…”

“Did they give you my note?”

“Yes…it’s….I thought this was the kind of punishment you would deal with in your offices.”

“Typically yes. But I’m so close to the family in all of our….dealings and the finances. I didn’t think it was especially proper, nor that I could do-adequately-what needed to be done.”

She was silently calling “Bullshit” on that one. He didn’t want to get on the wrong side of the twins.

“I see. Any guidelines for me…given your background with them?”

“No. Use your judgement. If it was me…” And it should be thought Alex, “I’d guess twenty should be right. Ten good ones each. And I mean good ones.”

“We can handle that…”


Christ. “I mean I. I can handle that.”

“Considering the recent goings-on over in your offices I didn’t think it would be a problem.”

A chill dropped into Alex’s belly. “What goings-on would they be?” she asked?

“When you finish with the twins, come over to my office so we can discuss that, alright?”

“What did you…” she further questioned but the line was dead. He had hung up on her? What the hell?

She went into the outer office where the twins hadn’t changed their positions or postures. Colleen was busying herself with a spreadsheet on her laptop that Alex assumed was the recording of the twins’ accounts.

“You know why you are here, right?” Alex addressed them both.

Phillip leaned back in the chair. “It appears we are in some sort of arrears…”

“I should say”, said Alex. “Colleen?

“Nine months behind on payments. The sums are significant…and there has been no response to any formal or informal entreaties.”

He tossed his chin toward his sister. “She handles the disbursements. That-the money-just leaves me cold. We can go now and she will take care of it.”

“It’s my understanding that the chance to do that was extended to you many times, and it’s gone on and on. This is a significant bill that you’ve been ignoring.”

“Not ignoring really…it just…” he let his hands rise from his lap flapping his fingers…

Camilla shifted a bit and seemed to bite the inside of her cheek. Alex was already tired of this conversation. If she could have gotten them-or Camilla apparently-to pull out a checkbook and just pay the bill now she would have happily done so just to get them out of her office. But she didn’t think it was that simple. She walked into her office and out of sight but the trio left behind could hear the rattling that Colleen knew were the canes in the umbrella stand. Alex came back holding two decidedly wicked pieces of bamboo.

Philip sat bolt upright, losing the air of indifferent cool. “You are not caning me!”

“I’m afraid I am”, Alex answered. “Both of you. Those were Mr. Foster’s instructions.”

“Foster!” he snorted half under his breath. “That functionary.”

Colleen smiled into her collar behind everyone but Alex didn’t show a thing. “Be that as it may,” she said. “You are to be punished for dereliction…”

“What if we pay today?”

“That doesn’t change the last nine months.” Then, after a pause, “Can you pay today?”

He cut a quick glance at his sister who had shrunken further into her clothes and deeper into the couch. She shook her head almost imperceptibly. “Great!” Philip barked. “Great. She’s the one you should cane then. This is her doing….” He caught himself and folded slightly. “What if we refuse…”

It was simple as she laid it out. They would be expelled. With the expulsion would come an open hearing of cause, and in this case, an airing of financial dirty linen. Playing a hunch, Alex pointed out would mean that their parents would find out that they hadn’t been paying and that the money might have gone elsewhere.

Camilla spoke quietly without moving or looking up. “Can we get onto a payment plan, you think?”

Got them! Thought Alex. “Of course, I’m sure something could be worked out. That would be between you and the Chancellor though. I only have one role to play here”, she said tapping the cane almost without thinking against her own leg.

“Good”, said Phillip breathlessly. “Good-cane her then. She was the one who…”

“Oh for Christ’s sakes Phillip, would you shut up please.” She finally looked up, her cheeks flushed either in anger, frustration, embarrassment or all three. “Just shut up.” He folded back in the chair properly cowed. “What do I have to do?” Camilla looked directly at Alex, her eyes clear and fiery.

“Take off your jacket. Just leave it there. And step into my office.”

The girl had merely to straighten her arms upon rising to leave the oversized jacket behind. She slinked through the door followed by Alex and her brother who had remained in his chair until Colleen had motioned that he follow. Colleen, bringing up the rear, marveled at the girl’s outwardly calm exterior betrayed only slightly by the flush in her cheeks. Red-faced Phillip, on the other hand, seemed a nervous, fidgety wreck.

With the dynamic playing out between these two, it was a relief that Alex was apparently resuming her caning duties. Colleen was fine with the compliant students who bared and bent on demand but hadn’t been exposed to a level of tension like this. Happily it was Alex standing at her desk. “Come over here, Camilla. Stand here”, she pointed with the cane and the girl had the open view of the campus and the hills beyond in front of her. “Lower your pants.”

“Really!” said Phillip. “Is that necessa-…”

“Shut up Phillip!” his sister hissed while unbuckling her oversized belt buckle. With the weight of the belt and the size of the pants, they fell directly to the floor upon loosening. Camilla’s shirt though, untucked as it was, covered her to mid-thigh.

“Lean forward and put your hands right here”, Alex ordered tapping a spot on the desk top. As Camilla positioned herself, Alex continued. “This will have to be on the bare bottom”, she paused imperceptibly to give the brother a chance to chime in but he said nothing. “So I’ll have to do some arranging…”

With the girl bent over, Alex put the cane down and lifted her shirt tail up over her back revealing a perfectly rounded bottom peeking out from under a pair of sheer high cut panties. The panties, revealing as much cheek as they did, would offer little protection against the bamboo but rules were rules. Alex stuck her fingers into the waistband and slipped the panties down until they too fluttered into the heap at Camilla’s ankles.

Witnessing canings always made Colleen nervous-more nervous than giving them actually- so she usually brought something into the room to occupy herself. She looked up from the folder of reports when the girl’s panties came down and marveled at the rounded perfection of her pert bum. You would never know it from the baggy clothes she wore, but that was probably the point. No hiding it now though. She held her legs primly together so she showed nothing else. Colleen’s gaze settled on Phillip who had stopped his fidgeting and was seemingly mesmerized by the sight of his sister’s bare bottom. To an almost inappropriate degree. It was her imagination of course but she would almost swear she saw him lick his lips as he leaned forward slightly.

Alex began as she always did with two taps of the cane across the middle of the bottom-as much a signal to the unfortunate that she was about to start as a range finder for herself. Camilla jumped at the touch and then settled-assumedly embarrassed at the break in her cool. But Alex, as was her way, was counterintuitively gentle and understanding.

“Is this your first caning, Camilla?” she asked softly.

“Yes”, the girl answered quietly, in a small voice, all edge and attitude gone.

“OK. Relax as much as you can…pick something out of the window to concentrate on and keep your eyes there. If you feel you have to tense, tense your shoulders or grit your teeth. Make fists. It actually hurts more if you tense your bottom.” Colleen noticed the girl’s cheeks soften a bit. “You don’t have to do anything-I’m doing all the work…just maintain position and it will be over before you know it.”

There was another pat-pat-pat across the bum then Alex let fly with a strong stroke right across the middle. Camilla gasped but nothing more. One more just below the first elicited a low “MMMM!” but her posture was unchanged. The third across the crown of her bottom-right at the top of the dividing crevasse-brought a loud “OUCH!”

“You’re doing fine”, Alex coached as the three matching pink stripes practically glowed against the milky white skin. The fourth stroke landed stiffly at the bottom of the cheeks-digging deeply into the heavy flesh that settled there. Alex wasn’t being entirely truthful though. Camilla was not taking this well-it had to be tough never having been caned before then having to endure this. She sympathized, but what could be done?

“OOOWWW!” Camilla yelped and rose on her toes. Wanting to take advantage of her distracting movements, Alex delivered the fifth stroke in almost the same place. Camilla cried out again and fell back onto her heels. Phillip, in the attitude of someone watching a horror movie, leaned back covering with his legs and arms crossed his chin in his hand.

Camilla began climbing after the sixth stroke: heel-toe, heel-toe one foot, then the other, in an effort to disperse the burn that was spreading across her backside. “Ouch!” she cried and slapped the desk moving her hand for the first time. Then after the eighth she slid her hands backward and pushed her bottom out almost lewdly-again trying to gain some respite from the sting. Alex waited for a moment for her to recover and delivered strokes nine and ten hard across the middle. “OOOO!” Camilla wailed shortly and sagged a bit.

“Ten!” Phillip barked. “That’s ten. She’s done.” Alex looked away from the striped bottom that was heaving slightly as Camille’s breathing returned to normal. “Yes”, she said. “That’s ten. Now it’s your turn.”

“My…? No way! I already said that I wasn’t taking a caning…”

“Chancellor Foster’s instructions were clear. You were to get twenty strokes-between you. I had assumed it would be ten each. You’re sister has taken ten…Now it’s your ten.”

Phillip looked ready to jump out of his seat as he patted his jacket and fidgeted about as if looking for a set of keys. “Well, ah…I can’t…I can’t do that-have that…”

“I’ll take them”, Camilla said in a tiny voice. “I’ll take his strokes…If that’s OK.”

“Cammie, I…” Philip started to say.

“It’s OK I guess”, Alex interrupted him. “If that’s what you want. If that’s what you both want.” She glanced pointedly at Phillip who was looking at the floor. “Ten more then-your brother’s ten.”

Alex renewed the caning just as she had begun the first stroke. There was the tap-tap-tap in the middle of the already bruised bottom then a solid stroke right across center. Camilla slapped the desk with an open palm but said nothing. Two more hard strokes landed low-covering purple stripes that instantly widened. Colleen thought Alex was going harder on this ten to further shame Phillip who sat by miserably, no longer showing the evident prurient interest he had in his sister’s bum.

Camilla kept her silence through the rest of the caning though she did raise her right hand off the desk then into the air as if hailing a cab. She also chose to ignore Alex’s advice to not clench as her cheeks were hard and flat and the cleft between them a thin shoestring. That was when Alex’s compassion took over and she delivered the final two strokes as mere flicks across the top where there weren’t many stripes. Colleen saw that a light sheen of sweat had broken out on the part of the girl’s back visible below her shirt.

“That’s it”, said Alex stepping away. “That’s twenty.”

The girl’s bottom displayed a crisscross of pink and purple welts as she remained in position catching her breath. “Can I get up now?” She asked.

“Yes, you’re finished.”

Camilla straightened unfurling her shirt down in back covering her. She bent over awkwardly and pulled her panties up gently over her tight, hot skin. Then her pants. It was always uncomfortable watching them dress afterwards. There had been no evidence that Camilla had cried during the caning but when she turned from the window her cheeks glistened and a single tear splashed onto the punishment form that Colleen held out for her to sign.

She stood then, head down and submissive. “I can go now?” she asked taking the tissue that Colleen had held out.

“Yes, we’re done here…Just report back to Mr. Foster for the payment plan we talked about.”

With that, she slinked back out of the office with Phillip in tow, still not looking up from the floor. When the door to the outer office shut Alex asked, “They like together don’t they?”

“Yes-big, green Victorian on Center. They have the second floor. Why?”

“It’s going to be a quiet evening there I bet…” Then…”I have to go see The Chancellor.”

“What for?”

“I don’t know….probably to do with this” she hoped. She gave Colleen the cane. “Put this away will you and hold down the fort…I’ll be back soon.”

The Boys

photo 4

“Hey, listen to this…” Frank looked up over his book at his roommate who was likewise studying sprawled out on the couch. Frank read:

“….the newly made witch had to be passed into the coven afore…”


“I’m just reading as it’s written….’Afore she could take her place in the dark society. That would typically happen the first full moon after her makin’. She was brought into a clearing by the elder witches, stripped nekkid and bent over a log. Then all the witches in the coven would whip her fanny with the cuttings of rose bushes…”

“Yeowch!” said Bob from the couch.

“…until the skin was raw then the devil hisself would appear with his own switch until his marks mingled with the others. Then the witch was considered part of the tribe.”

“What are you reading?”

“It’s for a paper on 19th century American folklore. I’m doing Appalachia…”

Bob put his book down open on his chest. His six-foot plus frame didn’t quite fit on the couch-one foot was hanging over the arm and the other was propped on the battered coffee table. “So see? You’re not the only one who enjoys getting his butt beat now and then.”

“I don’t know if ‘enjoy’ is the right word…in this context”, he said lifting the book.

“I’d do it without the rose branches…”

“Big of you…”

The boys had stayed at school through the summer to pick up some extra credits that were there for the taking. The campus was dead in the summer but since they lived off-campus housing was not an issue but having no one around was. There were no parties, no women to speak of, the bars were full of locals, nothing to do but go to class, study and otherwise amuse themselves.

Later they would wonder if this enforced solitude was what ultimately had pushed them down the road they went down.

The first time anything “untoward” had happened began innocuously enough. They were sitting on the couch one drizzly Thursday evening smoking a bowl and watching Jeopardy. Maybe Frank was holding onto the pipe for too long, maybe he wasn’t. But Bob thought he was. He reached across and tried to grab at it but Frank-more in fun than anything-held it as far out of reach as he could, forcing Bob to climb over him toward it. Frank was no physical match for him as they laughed, cussed and wrestled themselves onto the floor. Frank held the pipe in his fist and tried to crawl away only to be crushed to the floor on his stomach as Bob tackled him then sat astride him facing backwards.

“Give it up!” he barked.

“No way-“Frank tried squirming away.

Then, with no malice aforethought, thinking nothing actually beyond wrestling on the floor, Bob hauled off and smacked his roommate right on his ass. “Hey!” Frank had yelped.

“The pipe!” Bob demanded.

“No!” was the answer.

SWAT! Another smack landed right where the first had-exactly in the middle of Frank’s denim-clad right cheek. “OW!”

“The pipe!”


SWAT! This time on the left cheek. “OW-Jesus Bob. That hurt.” Curiously though, Frank had stopped struggling to get free and the pipe-long gone out-gripped in his right fist had become an afterthought. He lay there almost holding his breath as his friend smacked his ass twice more. Then again-and again-alternating cheeks. The swats hurt-Bob was a tough guy-but he really wasn’t really feeling any pain exactly. He was feeling something-the weight pinning him down, the heat being generated on his backside, a stirring up front grinding the floor…but it wasn’t pain.

He felt Bob shift on top of him and the spanking stopped. “Do you want anymore?”

Oh great-a trick question. The true answer would admit that he was kind of liking this somehow and invite more. Which would be fine-which would be better than stopping-but the whole idea of liking it? Too much to process right now. Instead he reached back and handed over the pipe. “You win…”

“Hah!” Bob barked and slapped his butt one more time-softer, almost a pat-and got off. He stayed on the floor and sat against the couch. Frank pushed himself up and likewise flopped against the couch. As if someone had turned the TV back on they discovered Final Jeopardy and stared at the tube while Bob relit the bowl.

Neither called attention to-nor ignored-Bob’s hard on which was slowing receding back up his leg.

“That was odd…” Bob gasped holding his breath to keep the smoke in. He handed the pipe over.

“Exceedingly so….” Frank agreed.

Suddenly the room felt a little tighter and air was tough to come by.

“Let’s get out of here and grab a beer…” Bob said getting up quickly.

“Good idea”, agreed Frank and they were out the door without turning off the TV.

That was two months and about a dozen spankings ago.

To Be Continued