| St. Miriam Girls Orphanage, Part 1 Alternative History Context: In the early spring of 1945, the superpowers each possessed ‘The Bomb’ and nuked each other. By April, perhaps 70 to 80% of human life had been obliterated from the face of the Earth, thus ending World War II. Gone were the nation-states of old. The ash of the war lingered in the sky, denying direct sunlight to most of the world. But beneath those dusty skies, small tribes of survivors lived by whatever they could find among the ruins of the war. The scattered population did render the world ‘safe for democracy’ as each small community worked to rebuild, each with little or no awareness of the others. September 1945, It was the fourth day of school. In the charred remains of what was once a stately institution we sat. The surviving women of the community gathered all the refugee war orphans and moved us in the shelter of this grand building because the roof was intact and kept us out of the weather. By August, they decided that our education would continue as normal as possible in spite of the dire situation and dubbed the school “St. Miriam’s” after Moses’ sister who had helped lead slaves to freedom. The boys were sent to another suitable structure a half-mile away. The matrons had blamed the war and Holocaust on male pride, and thus decided the boys should be segregated and raised to be docile and submissive to a female’s voice, that they may never again make war. Meanwhile, we twelve-year-old girls sat in a musty dark classroom at the end of a long hallway. The joining classrooms were full of ruble and unusable at this time, so we were cut off from the rest of the girls in this orphanage-school. Our teacher was Ms. Kraus, a German refugee who fled the Nazis in ’42 for England in order to avoid political persecution, for her father had hidden Jews and smuggled them out of Germany. She was young and pretty, yet quite stern, just as I was taught to think of Germans. But more than half the girls in the class were from outside Scotland. They came from Poland, Sweden, Germany and France, (and even one from Japan, who was deathly cute) all surviving refugees who were brought here to find safety. Me? My name is Cortlan. I was born in Amsterdam but fled with my mother to Scotland in early ’44. I can speak English pretty good. But since the war was over and the nations gone, Ms. Kraus declared our past nationalities made no difference and we were now one people in this small community of survivors. None was allowed to utter the word ‘Nazi’ or ‘Hitler’ toward the German girls. After all, they were victims of the Fuhrer themselves. And on this forth day of school, Ms. Kraus had declared it was time to demonstrate the punishment bench and the type of disciple we were to receive. Poor Katrine was to be the first victim of the long but thin wooden paddle hanging at the front of the room. The class of eighteen girls of age twelve fell deathly silent when Ms. Kraus passed sentence. All the girls trembled, myself included. Yet I felt a strange rush through my body. Finally, I had to cross my slender pale bare legs tightly. And so Katrine slowly approached the front of the room as Ms. Kraus had seized the paddle from the hook. “Here at St. Miriam, we don’t put our hands down on our privates when the teacher is talking!” she said sternly in German, for Katrine was a cute little orphan girl from Germany. “I warned you about your naughty hands!” Katrine said nothing, for being caught touching herself in front of all her peers was far too humiliating. And so I slowly stared down at my crossed bare legs as I gently flexed my knee back an fourth, letting my little thighs rub against my own damp privates which began to tingle. “Step out of your shoes!” ordered Ms. Kraus as she pointed down with the paddle. And so Katrine slowly stepped out of each old shoe, the only pair she had to her name. “Now, reach up and remove your panties!” With tears of humiliation in her eyes, Katrine slowly reached under the red and blue plaid uniform jumper, which by the way was very short as to reveal the entire bare leg just short of showing panty, and slid her white panties down her young but incredibly pretty Bavarian legs, and then stepped out of them. She held them up for Ms. Kraus to confiscate. She took the small pair of panties in her hand and placed them on her desk. “Now, assume the position on the bench. The class will now see just what kind of discipline it can expect for discipline and learning.” And with a gulp of doom, Katrine silently laid across the punishment bench. It was placed in a way that would give the class a plain view of the spankee’s bare bottom. But Ms. Kraus adjusted her position. The bench was a wooden structure with a padded section where the spankee would lay flat with legs hanging down and straddled, yet it angled down that the head would be lower than the bottom. Once Ms. Kraus was satisfied with Katrine’s position, she reached out and pulled her jumper way up, leaving her almost naked except for the long, knee-high uniform socks we all wore. The girls trembled when Ms. Kraus raised her hand up. But instead of giving a hand-spank, she simply began to rub Katrine’s pale bare buttocks. Katrine cringed at the sensation of Mr. Kraus’ hand and fingertips slowly massaging and caressing that silky-soft skin. From our desks, we could all see her little-girl parts quite clearly and I swore those two little nether lips were swelling and turning pink. “This is how a girl should be on the bench to get her bottom spanked!” declared Ms. Kraus. “Now in some countries, a good bare-bottom paddling is for punishment! But in this classroom, it is also used to remind girls to be good. So each of you out there will get more than one turn up here when ever I think you need a spanking, whether you misbehave or not!” Such a declaration brought all the girls to a morbid silence. But Ms. Kraus continued to slowly caress and massage Katrine’s cute bare bottom. By now, I was desperate to run up and give it a squeeze and a swat! But all I could do was keep my legs tightly crossed. What was worse is that Ms. Kraus then began to just barely touch those puffy nether lips, causing Katrine to squeak. “I can see why you were touching yourself,” continued Ms. Kraus. “You’re in a ‘warm’ mood!” And so she continued to gently caress her lips, and then her slit, causing her straddled legs to jolt. But then, she raised the paddle and gently placed that cold wood against those pale buttocks. Katrine cringed and whined at the sensation as Ms. Kraus rubbed the paddle around in circles on both butt-cheeks. “You girls are lucky to have someone to spank your bottoms when you need it, rather than to let you run wild and die out in the ruins!” said Ms. Kraus as she continued to rub and tap Katrine’s bottom with the paddle. “You know this is good for you, don’t you!” “Ja, Frauline Kraus,” whimpered Katrine. With that, Ms. Kraus let her pinky stroke that moist pink slit once more, causing her to squeal. “And you like that feeling on your girl parts!” continued Ms. Kraus, before once again rubbing and tapping that bare bottom with the paddle. “But this paddle is going to hurt! So you best relax your bottom the best you can or else it will hurt more!” And so, she gave a few more taps against Katrine’s shiny pale bare bottom before swinging the paddle hard. Whack! “Eeeeee!” screamed Katrine as we all jolted in our desks. Her legs fluttered about as the red glow burned across her bare bottom. Whack! Smack! Crack! Ms. Kraus gave three more swats, painting Katrine’s poor pale bottom a bright shade of red before pausing to rub some more. By now, Katrine was sniffling. I could tell she was trying very hard not to cry loudly. “It doesn’t do any good to hold back the crying!” scolded Ms. Kraus. “It only makes it hurt more and I spank harder!” With that, she raised the paddle and spanked again. Whack! Whack! Smack! After Katrine screamed and kicked her legs for a few seconds, Ms. Kraus slowly rubbed her bottom with the paddle again in small circles. Then, she used her left hand to glide over those red hot round buns. She squeezed each one gently. “Such a cute bare bottom needs a cute shade of red!” she said. Then, she gave a few slaps with her hand on Katrine’s bare bottom before resuming with the paddle. Whack! Smack! Crack! “Oooow! Ooow-ow!” cried Katrine. I was trembling because her red bottom looked like it felt like fire. Yet my privates tingled all the more as I kept flexing my knee back and forth to massage my hidden flower. But Ms. Kraus rested the paddle against those red-hot buns. “Are you going to behave, Katrine?” she asked as she slowly rubbed the paddle around in circles against that stinging flesh. “Ja, Frauline Kraus,” mumbled Katrine over her sobs. “What?” “Yes Ms. Kraus!” But Ms. Kraus answered with a ‘SMACK!’ of the paddle. “Are you sure?” “Y… yes Ms. Kraus!” promised Katrine as she cried. “And are you going to touch yourself in class… like this?” asked Ms. Kraus as she caressed her slit with her finger. “No. Nien,” mumbled Katrine with a slobbery voice. But Ms. Kraus continued to rub and caress Katrine tantalizing little private parts. Even from where I sat in the room, I could see Katrine was getting wet. My own panties were now quite damp in the front as I squeezed my legs tight. I realized how much danger I was in, for I desperately wanted to reach down and touch myself to soothe the fire down there. “Does this feel good?” asked Ms. Kraus as she massaged and fingered Katrine’s slit. Katrine moaned and slowly humped the bench. “Little girls like the way this feels! Do you like it, Katrine?” Poor humiliated Katrine didn’t answer. She only moaned and cried at the same time. And so Ms. Kraus gave a ‘Smack!’ with the paddle across her already-sore bottom. “I asked you a question, Katrine!” she scolded. “Answer me or I will keep spanking… and much harder!” “Ja, Ms. Kraus,” cried Katrine in dire humiliation. “Do you know what happens if you keep rubbing here long enough?” asked Ms. Kraus. I’ll confess right now that I did, but I’m not sure how many of the other girls in the class from different parts of Europe had dared to find out with their own hands. I sure wish I could go up and show Katrine. But finally, she answered the question. “No, Ms. Kraus,” she mumbled. “Nien! I don’t know.” “I think you want me to keep rubbing you like this, don’t you,” said Ms. Kraus. Again, Katrine didn’t answer, which made us all cringe because we knew she would get another hard swat if she didn’t answer soon. And after a few more seconds, Ms. Kraus raised the paddle. “Ja! Yes!” cried Katrine once she realized her bottom was about to get another spank. “Yes what?” barked Ms Kraus as she continued to rub and tickle Katrine’s slit. “Ja! I vant you to rub me like that!” she confessed with tears. “I thought so!” replied Ms. Kraus. “You did hold still and take your spanking well. I suppose you deserve some relief!” And with that, Ms. Kraus kept working her ripe little pink flower with her fingers as Katrine moaned louder and louder, and humped the bench faster and faster. And with that, Ms. Kraus’ hand worked faster and faster until they were both breathing hard and fast. “Aaaah! Aaaah! Ooooh!” cried Katrine as her smooth, twelve-year-old German body humped the bench as fast as she could. “Ja! Ja! Jaaaa!” she cried out. “Schnell! Schnell!” Finally, we could see her head bobbing up and down. “Ah-hhh, Ah-hhh, Ah-hhh,” she shrieked, her voice getting higher and higher… until suddenly she screamed a brief scream. Her legs kicked out and her body jolted. Her head rocked back as her scream fell silent. Her body pulsed in several jerks, until she settled back down and caught her breath once again. “Oooooh! Oooooh!” she cooed as she fell limp across the spanking bench. “Very nice,” replied Ms. Kraus as she set the paddle down. “Have you done that before?” “No… nien,” mumbled Katrine, now almost falling asleep. With that, Ms. Kraus turned to face us. “Has any one of you ever done that… perhaps at night when you were touching yourselves?” No one raised her hand. “It’s called a…. uh… a cummy! It’s like an explosion that makes you feel good. You see, class, that’s how God makes girls. We’re made to do this so we’ll want to make babies and survive. But there’s little food, wasser and shelter right now so ve don’t need to be around boys and make babies. In stead, you use your hands unt fingers for comfort wis’ out babies… but not in my classroom!” With that, she turned back to Katrine and lifted her up from the bench. Her little jumper fell back into place, but it didn’t go very far below her crotch. “Now, I’ll keep your panties on my desk for now. You vill go sit down in your chair on your sore bare bottom to think about vat you learned.” “Yes, Ms. Kraus,” mumbled Katrine. She kept her face down, now wanting to look at us, or us to look at her. But after seeing the pleasure she got from her orgasm, I could hardly feel sorry for her. Anyway, she quietly returned to her desk and sat down on her poor red bottom. At that, Ms. Kraus folded Katrine’s panties up quite neatly and placed them on the edge of her desk before facing the whole class again. “Now, is there anyone else out there who is tingly and vants to touch themselves?” she asked. “Perhaps someone out there thinks a little cummy is worth a hard paddling before we continue with the lesson, ja?” At that, I felt a tingle go down my spine and all round my crotch. My breathing got heavier. Do I dare raise my hand? Would the padding be that bad? I couldn’t decide. No! Maybe tomorrow… or the next day. Besides, I’d get a chance next recess to soothe myself. Suddenly, Kasia raised her hand! That shy little Polish girl with pigtails sat with a blank stare with her hand slowly going up into the air. Her other hand was already down in her crotch giving a few soothing rubs in response to the orgasmic spanking she had just witnessed. Ms. Kraus grinned at the girl’s audacity. “Kasia, stand up!” she ordered. And so Kasia slowly rose from her seat, perhaps already regretting raising her hand. Yet it was too late now. Her fate was sealed. “Actung! Come up here, Kasia! Mach schnell! Mach schnell!” The poor skinny girl made her way to the front. She had long pale legs hanging down from her short little jumper with sharp kneecaps… rather cute and carressable I might say. All in all, this ‘Warsaw Wonder’ looked hot for a refugee orphan. I’d love to cuddle up next to her. But getting to see her bare bottom spanked to orgasm would be the next best thing nevertheless. When she reached the front of the room by the spanking bench, she froze. “Tell me vat you vant, Kasia!” ordered Ms. Kraus. In turn, Kasia mumbled something, half-German, half-Polish that I couldn’t quite understand. “Louder,” coaxed Ms. Kraus. “Gi-me spinkin’… Kasia cum-cum!” said Kasia with a struggle, although she continued to rub her crotch right there in front of God and everybody. “That’s a little better,” replied Ms. Kraus. “Step out of your shoes, hand me your panties, and lay across the bench!” And therefore Kasia obeyed, although she now looked petty scared. I think I might have gasped when I saw Kasia’s bare bottom for the first time. Her buttcheeks were skinny yet meaty enough to be spankable. And so Ms. Kraus began to rub and caress her bare bottom just like she had done to Katrine. The sensation prompted Kasia to force her bottom up high for easy access. By now, my head spun. I was afraid I’d never make to recess. Surely I’d give in and rub myself, get caught, and go over the bench. And so Ms. Kraus caressed and teased her for several moments causing her to moan and shriek, before the paddling began. She spanked hard, turning that pale bottom red very quickly. Kasia cried and moaned with each swat and tease, yet those small bald nether lips remained pink and puffy, slowly opening up to reveal the dark pink interior of her girl-parts. But after the last swat with that paddle, it didn’t take much for Ms. Kraus to bring her to a massive violent orgasm. Kasia fluttered about on the bench as if she were swimming as her orgasm seemed to go on forever. Finally, she settled down. When it was over, Ms. Kraus kept her panties on her desk right next to Katrine’s, and sent her back to her seat. “Anyone else wish to brave der paddle for a little cummy-cum?” asked Ms. Kraus once again. The room sat quiet enough we could hear each other’s heartbeats. I felt my hand slowly leave my desk for the air, but then I hesitated. Should I… or should I not! I really needed to cum very badly. But damn! Those bare bottoms looked so red and sore. But then again… a bare-bottom spanking could be fun and sensuous as well. Slowly, I started to raise my hand, but cowered once again. I couldn’t make up my mind! NOT the end... not yet! |