An Elective History Course (a bit long)

[goodgulf]

An Elective History Course

Part 1 Lois Volunteers

Entering the history building, Lois Kasey looked at the posted grades for the term project and smiled. There it was, a 98% beside her name. It was a mark that changed everything. The course was an optional one and it had looked easy in the school calendar, but it had come close to tanking her GPA. Some of it was her own fault, but her difficulty with the couse hadn't sunk in until after she blew off the midterm and forgot to hand in a few assignments. By then only a near perfect score on the term project could save her GPA from falling.

Lois tried not to feel guilty what had come next and was almost shocked by how little effort it had taken. Part of her wished she felt worse about her actions but mostly she was just relived that it had worked. It was a ploy that she had used in high school, when she had needed a high mark in a computer course and grabbed the nearest nerd boy. That time she had gotten an A++, over a hundred percent with bonus marks, but then high school teachers were always easier than college professors.

And that wasn't the only part that had been easier. Back then, Lois only had to smile, purse her lips, and occasionally brush her tits against the nerd's arm. Once she had undone two extra buttons when she didn't have a bra on and flashed him everything but her tits and the nerd had practically cum in his pants. Maybe he had. He had dashed off to the bathroom fast enough. Of course, after he finished her project she had dumped him with the "Um, you didn't think that we had anything, did you? This was just a project and we were just study buddies." speech. That had been the end of that.

Lois had to think for a moment to even remember that nerd's name. She thought it was George Whitney, but George might have been the friend who had helped her nerd. That helper had only gotten the occasional glimpse under her skirt but those rare glimpses of her bikini panties had been enough to keep him plugging away with the nerd as they both worked on Lois' project.

But that was three years ago. A life time ago. An eternity ago. None of that matter now.


This time she had recruited a senior who was only a semester from graduating and needed this entry level course to round out his major,.. A boy who actually cared about history. He was even into reenactments. He planned to teach or go to grad school or something like that, staying in history for his entire life. Of course college wasn't high school so Lois had gone that extra step. She arranged things so they would meet in a study room just after her exercise class. Not that she needed to exercise much but that gave her an excuse to wear tights and she looked damn good in tights. A few times she had even worn an unitard, one verged on the edge of being indecent. She didn't give him a look at her camel toe, not quite, but she came close.

At one point Lois sensed that she was losing him, so she changed in the study room. Lois had made a point of mentioned how nudity meant nothing, it was only skin, but she had turned away when she changed. Of course she had given him a show from the rear. She kept her legs together, mostly, but she had shown off her hips, ass, and shown him peeks of her boobs. If that hadn't have worked then Lois had been resigned to go on a date with him, or maybe give him a quick blow job in the study room, but thankfully those glimpses of her body had been enough for him to finish her project.

Glancing at the posted grades again, Lois smiled again. Once more, her nerd had scored a lower grade on his own project. This time it was only a bit lower, 92 to her 98, but it showed that he had put more of an effort into her project than his own. Back in high school George Whitney had scored in the 70s to get Lois her A++ while her latest nerd must have been brighter than the boy in high school.

Andrew Zuckerman might have seen more of Lois than George Whitney had, but so far Lois had a perfect record with nerds; all look and no contact.


"Did you see your mark?"

Those words brought Lois out of her thoughts. Of course he would be here. He practically lived in the history department.

"Hey Andrew." Lois said as she turned. "Yes, I was checking my mark. I do hope that we can be civil after that little misunderstanding."

"It's forgotten." Andrew Zuckerman said with a smile. "And it's all my fault. I guess that I'm not used to girls taking their clothes off around me so I assumed something I shouldn't have, but that's in the past."

"It is." Lois said firmly.

"But I was hoping to find you here." Andrew said. "Just to show that there's no hard feelings there's something I want pass along. There's a reenactment happening this weekend that involves some paying spots."

"Paying spots?" Lois asked. "I thought reenactments were volunteers having fun."

"Mostly they are, but sometimes there's a role that goes beyond the usual." Andrew informed her. "And this one, well we didn't think we could fill it. You see it involves... But then I thought of you and remembered what you said. There's a bit of exposure, but since you feel 'it's just skin showing', I thought you might be interested."

Lois forced herself to smile as he echoed her words.

"I'm not sure I'll have the time." Lois answered. "History isn't my only subject."

"I know." Andrew said. "But after my screw up, when I heard it was $800 for a few hours of work..."

"Eight hundred?" Lois asked.

"Most of the reenactors don't want to take their clothes off." Andrew told her. "I meaning, dressing up is usually half the fun of any reenactment. The costumes, the period pieces, everything correct done to the right type of buttons. Emerging yourself in the lost elegance of a vanished time. That's why many of the reenactors do it."

"So, um, this reenactment." Lois began. "How many people will be there?"

"Oh, just the usual crowd." Andrew answered. "Maybe a few more for this one. You know, the people who are interested in the period."

"And, um, well I don't want to show up on the net, so..."

"Oh, there won't be any people carrying digital cameras or phones." Andrew assured her. "That's the standard rule. No phones, cameras, or any devices that aren't period. And of course there's nothing computer like in that period but adding machines and, well, I don't need to tell you what they had back then, do I?"

"Of course not." Lois agreed. "And you're sure it's $800?"

"I wouldn't have said it if I wasn't sure." Andrew replied. "That's what Associate Dean Jansen said. If Gracie says it's $800 then it's $800."

Lois nodded. Andrew was the type of eager beaver who got on a first name basis with his professors. Lois barely remembered her professors' last names but Andrew was practically buddies with his.

"Um, has the job been posted yet?" Lois asked, wondering at the level of exposure her exposure might bring. If everyone knew that she went nude for money then that would be the same as if everyone saw her.

"No, and it won't be if you take the job." Andrew told her.

"Are we talking about total exposure or something else?" Lois asked.

"Well, not total. Just mostly from the back." Andrew told her. "You know about split drawers, right?"

"So wearing those in public?" Lois suggested.

She pictured herself in those split drawers. There would be some peekaboo action, but nothing she couldn't handle. Especially when it would only be history nerds and professors seeing her. Lois couldn't see herself dancing naked in a strip club but a bit of play acting that involved peekaboo? That would be different. That would be worth $800 of unreported income.

Lois could already see herself wearing a new pair of $800 shoes.

"The reenactment sounds like fun." Lois lied.

Of course it didn't. It sounded like a bunch of nerds and stupid costumes, but $800 was $800.


When Andrew sent an email with the details, Lois decided that this was the perfect job. It was taking place more than five miles from campus, which cut down on the number of students who would be there. If you weren't a history nut making a special trip out there then you wouldn't be seeing her. That meant that none of Lois' friends could accidentally stumble over her performance. Since she was one of the reenactors she'd have a drive out and back. Which was good, and bad. She had a free ride but didn't want to be part of a convoy or stuck in a minibus (or worse, an actual bus) with the history nerds. A couple of emails later and she was the sole passenger in an assistant professor's car. The man was in his late twenties, maybe thirties, and went by the name of Brendan Plaskitt.

The location was an old school. Lois couldn't believe it when they stopped there.

"A school?" Lois asked.

"The place was closed a few decades ago." Brendan explained. "Before some budget cuts. Now they use part of it as a community centre and rent it out as a set. We're using some of the classrooms, the gym, and the auditorium. Maybe the kitchen, I'm not sure."

"But a school?" Lois asked.

Brendan gave her a look.

"You do know the details, right? What we're reenacting today?" Brendon asked.

"Well of course I do." Lois asserted, while wondering if she should of read some of the pdfs that had been included on the emails. Which of course she hadn't. All she had done was provide her measurements so they could select costumes that fit her.


Part 2 The Reenactment begins

The changing rooms were empty classrooms, one for the males and one for the females. The rest of the reenactors were already changed when Lois arrived and she tried not to be dismayed when one late goer showed Lois what was to be her costume.

"Of course." Lois muttered to the empty room. "A schoolgirl outfit. Why am I not surprised? We're in a school so what else would it be?"

The door opened and Gracie Jansen stepped in.

"Ah, it's Lori right? I'm Assistant Dean Jansen, but you can call me Miss Jansen or Ma'am for the reenactment." Gracie told her. "Now that's the first outfit you'll be modelling. It's a standard one from an 1888 school, American, not British. The British didn't have the split drawers, at least not then."

"Split drawers." Lois echoed. "Lucky me."

"That's why you're being paid and none of the others are." Gracie pointed out. "Speaking of that, I need you to sign a release."

"Um, I didn't think I had to report this money?" Lois muttered.

"It's up to you if you report this money or not." Gracie assured her. "No, this is just something the university insists on. It's to make sure that I'm not hiring my niece or some other relative."

"Oh, right." Lois said. "That makes sense."

"And there's another one that commits you working for the entire reenactment." Gracie said, handing her another piece of paper. "It gives the details of what you're expected to do. Read it before signing it. If we need to find a replacement we need to know now."

"A replacement?" Lois asked. "Who could you get now?"

"Um, well, funny enough, there's my niece." Gracie said, laughing. "No, I couldn't pay her to do it but she owes me for bailing her out of a jam. She doesn't want the role but she said she'll do it I ask her to. But if she has to step then I have to know that now. You see it will take her a while to drive out here. Of course if you don't sign that form I can't pay you."

"Oh, that's okay." Lois said, scrawling her signature on the unread form.

"I'll just file these." Gracie said, reclaiming the forms. "Now the first uniform is laid out there, with everything selected to match your measurements. The shoes should fit, then there are the socks, split drawers, slip, skirt, brassiere, and blouse. Then there's the tie and blazer. Do you need help with the tie?"

"Um, maybe?" Lois admitted, never having knotted a tie in her life. "But isn't it the last thing to go on? And is there a changing screen?"

"If you'd come with the rest you would have been here when everyone else was changing." Gracie told her. "They all changed together, under things included. And aren't you the one who said skin was just skin?"

"Um, right." Lois agreed.

In some ways it would have been easier to change with the others, not being the only one who was stripping off, but she didn't care that much about it. They were both girls and Gracie wasn't giving off a lezzie vibe. Not that Lois hadn't experimented a bit along those lines, but she generally needed a lot of tequila in her before she did. Tequila or a little pot or maybe some E.

Embarrassingly, Lois soon realised that she did need help dressing. The clothes had a few unfamiliar fasteners (what style of knot did you use to fasten drawers? how did you buckle a shoe?) and she wasn't sure how everything should hang, so having Lois there was a help. And of course she needed help with the tie.

"Which school is this uniform from?" Lois asked as Gracie helped with the tie.

"Oh, none." Gracie said. "In fact some parts of it aren't even period. A few years ago we ran into problems with using uniforms from a real school. There was a threat of a lawsuit."

"What?" Lois exclaimed.

"Of course it was a more recent uniform, one from the 50s." Gracie explained. "The school was still around there was an issue about a black student wearing a segregation era uniform. Actually, there issues from three sides of that issue. The white side, a civil liberties side, and NAACP side. It was very messy and as part of the settlement we agreed not to copy actual school uniforms in the future. At least not uniforms worn in the past 500 years."

"So why bother with the reenactment? If it's not real?" Lois asked.

"It's realistic, practically in period." Gracie said. "And we can act as if we were in period. Now come along, we need to get to the classroom."


When she reached it, Lois saw that the classroom had been done over as a period one. The modern desks were gone, replaced by benches and old fashion long desks in half the room. The students were divided along gender lines and Lois took a place among the girls. Meanwhile, onlookers observed the old fashioned teaching methods of rote drilling and marvelled over the map from the 1800s. After half an hour of this the "teacher" rang the school bell and class was dismissed.

Lois had to join the others as they changed, only she had a slightly different uniform from the others. One that Gracie was there to provide. Not that was that different from the others; it was basically a jumper with a pinafore, socks, old fashioned sneakers, old fashioned drawers, and an undershirt in place of a bra. From there the girls were off to do laps (and other old fashion exercises) in the gym, enough to raise a sweat as the boys exercised on their side of the gym and the onlookers watched.

Between the sizes of some of the girls (the reenactors tending to the plus size) and lack of bras, there was plenty of bouncing and jiggling among the girls. As for the instructor, she urged them on, occasionally threatening slackers with a smack from her hand or the heel of her sneaker, which she called a 'plimsoll'. Of course they were empty threats but the other girls tried to act as if they were serious ones.

As they exercised, Lois couldn't help hearing some complaints from the other reenactors. Some felt that they should be in proper period uniforms while others felt that they were all too old for these roles, that they should have tried to get teenagers to play these parts. A few even grumbled that they should have actually gotten smacks to urged them along because those smacks would be historically actuate. Surprisingly, none of them were complaining that Lois was being paid while the rest of them were doing the same work for free.


After half an hour of exercise, the bell rang again. While the others went to change, Lois was intercepted by Gracie.

"Time to earn your pay." Gracie said.

"Do I change here?" Lois asked. "Because if I do I want to be able to face a wall."

"No, you don't change." Gracie chuckled. "That's why your costume was a bit different from the others. You'll wear this for the next part."

"Um, I'm a bit sweaty." Lois pointed out needlessly.

"So? Antiperspirant is a product of post WWII consumerism." Gracie told Lois as she guided her to the door.

"Huh?"

"A little sweat is period." Gracie elaborated. "So are sweat stains and a bit of BO. In fact 'BO' wasn't even a term until someone came up with a product to cover it. Besides, a bit of sweat can improve a girl's looks. Haven't you ever seen a girl glowing after a little exercise?"

Lois found herself nodding. There was nothing like a little exertion to give a girl the blush of health and as for a guy, there was nothing like a side of beefcake dripping with sweat. So while the others went to change Lois followed an assistant dean to the auditorium. Lois couldn't help noticing that most of the onlookers were slowly making their ways towards the auditorium after them, which made sense if that was where the next stage of the reenactment was happening.


Part 3 The Auditorium

The stage was already arranaged when Lois passed through the doors, but the set up on the stage didn't seem to make any sense to her. An old gymnastic horse, a desk, a bench, and weird looking block dominated the stage. The stage's scale seemed off slightly and it took Lois a moment to place the problem.

"The stage is awfully low." Lois noted.

"That's because this used to be an elementary school." Gracie revealed. "I take it you haven't had to use the lady's room or you've have noticed. The ones we have access to are still set up for little people which makes things awkward to use."

"But why is the stage so low?"

"That's so if a little person falls off it they don't have too far to fall." Gracie said. "Now I know I said you weren't changing, but you have to take off your pinafore now. Just hand it over there. And once it's off I'll have to put your hair up. Oh, nothing that your hairdresser would mind. I just need to pin it so it will stay out of your face."

Lois wondered why they hadn't done this in the changing room, but she cooperated. Gracie quickly braided Lois' hair into pigtails then pinned the pigtails up in two buns. She lacked a mirror but Lois imaged she looked like Princess Leia from the first Star Wars movie. Or was it the fourth? Lois had never understood the numbering for those films.

By the time Gracie was done, the onlookers were arriving. There were several rows of chairs spread out in front of the stage and Andrew was sitting in the middle of the front row. Lois shot him a polite smile and hoped that he wouldn't try to speak to her today. Putting him in his place in front of all of his friends, well that could be awkward. More for Andrew than her, but awkward none the less.

"Oh, and remember to call me 'Ma'am' for this next part." Gracie said as she straightened her dress. "That's important. And try to get into the role of a schoolgirl. Anything to improve the performance. Don't make me regret not calling my niece and making her take your role."

"Oh I can act." Lois vowed. "But, what do I do?"

"Just follow my lead."

Lois nodded and followed the older woman onto the stage.


"Now we have reached an unpleasant aspect of the era." Gracie told the onlookers. "How discipline was maintained in those long ago days. Back in those days when educators talked about getting to the bottom of a situation they were often referring to their students' bottoms. Our reenactor, Lois, has gracefully volunteered to help with this part, committing herself for the duration of this demonstration."

There was a scattering of applause. Lois acknowledged it with a smile and small bow of her head.

"They use various methods of bending a bottom." Gracie informed them. "Lois, please bend over the horse. Yes it will make your bum stick out but that is the point."

Lois forced herself to smile as she allowed Lois to guide her over the gymnastic horse. It wasn't the most comfortable position and her bum did stick out, but at least her bum was covered.

Gracie produced a cane and tapped the seat of Lois' jumper. Just tapped it, barely hard enough for Lois to feel it.

"Of course not everywhere had a horse like that. If you'll stand now." Gracie prompted.

Lois stood and smiled as Gracie directed her to desk.

"Every classroom had its share of desks and it was a simple matter for a girl to bend over the desk." Gracie said, guiding Lois into place. "Notice how tight this makes her bend, especially when she grabs the opposite legs. Go ahead, grab them. Now. See what a difference that made?"

Lois hoped that the audience nodded at how tightly she was bending. She knew that she had a nice behind and they were looking at it from the best angle.

But there was also the bench." Gracie stated. "Now Lois is alone, but imagine if you would that she was one of three or five girls. Or even more. All bending side by side on the bench. Okay, you can get up and come to the bench."

Lois found her next pose to be the most embarrassing one. Going over the bench, she was almost on her hands and knees with her bottom bent for the audience.

"Now in this position you could discipline several girls side by side. Give one girl a lick, then another, then maybe bring the cane cracking down across the first girl's bottom. Or maybe switch a third girl. Each of the girls knowing that she was probably due another stroke but never knowing when it would be her turn." Gracie said, painting a vivid mental picture for the audience. "And the rear wasn't always the selected target. Often the cane travelled up and down the length of a girl's thighs."

She landed a pair of light taps on Lois' backside as she spoke, further painting the picture, then landed another pair of touches on the back of her legs.

"But of course no girl could be expected to hold still for a real punishment." Gracie said, then she tapped Lois on the back. "Get up. We're moving to the block. Here, let me up you up."

Lois took Gracie's hand as the woman helped her to stand.


Part 4 The Block

"Now for the block." Gracie announced needlessly. "While the Victorians went from switches to canes to prevent the need to raise dresses and lower underpants, the block demands too tight of a bend for her jumper to remain in place. But don't worry, Lois has agreed this part."

Lois smiled and lifted her jumper as she approached the block. She rolled it well above her waist before bending over the wicked looking block. It was a dark wood and actually had leather straps on either side of its base, along with various other pieces of leather on its top and on the leg end. There was even a round hole, roughly half an inch wide, on the leg side whose purpose escaped Lois. The block was longer than it was wide, giving her extra support for her body. Lois wasn't sure, but she suspected that this position was the tautest she had stretched her backside today. She could feel the cotton of her drawers digging into her.

"These straps are to prevent the girl from reaching back." Gracie said, putting Lois' right wrist in one. "Now the problem with straps is that they are usually either too tight or too loose, but this strap has hole that's near perfect for Lois' wrist."

Lois glanced down at the left strap and noticed something odd. Most belts and straps had a number of regularly spaced holes. This one had those regularly spaced holes, but there was an extra one. Most of the holes had brass reinforcing them but the irregular one looked freshly drilled. She kept looking down as Gracie secured her left hand and, as expected, the strap was secured at the fresh hole. As it was secured, Lois remembered that she had provided her wrists and ankle measurements along with the others. She had thought those measurements were the wrists cuffs of her blouses and maybe something to do with socks or shoes.

"For serious punishments there were other worries beyond the tautness of a girl's bottom." Gracie stated. "There was the fear of real injury, not from the cane but from a girl's reaction to the caning. Teeth could grind, tongues be bitten, and that could cause lasting damage. That's why they developed these tongue protectors."

After holding the tongue protector up for the audience to see, Gracie brought it lower so that Lois could see it. There was a solid piece of leather with metal chains running from both ends. There was more to the device, some leather bits at the back that allow the device to be fashioned at the back of her head, but Lois barely saw those.

"Oh dear." Gracie tisked. "I'll have to undo your hair to fit this on. Well, it can't be helped. Not if we want to give a realistic reenactment. Maybe the mirror could be moved in place while I do this?"

Someone called from the side of the stage, but Lois didn't care what was being said. She kept reminding herself about the $800 as Gracie removed the hairpins. Once they were free her pigtails fell on either side of her head.

"Open please." Gracie said, putting the leather piece to Lois' lips.

Lois obeyed.

Around this point, two students carried a large mirror into her view and placed it in front her. This allowed Lois to watch as Gracie fastened the apparatus around her head, locking it in place. Looking at herself, Lois was appalled by how young the pigtails made her look.

"Now while most canings happened over clothing, some did not." Gracie announced. "Especially if they were of the intense sort that required the subject to be secured. Normally a girl's backside would be exposed before going over the block, but while Lois agreed to include some nudity in her reenactment we all felt that full frontal nudity would be a bit much. There's no way to unknot her drawers, not with her like this, but we've thought ahead."

Lois stiffened. In the mirror she saw someone hand Gracie a pair of shears. She felt the chill of the iron at the small of her back as one blade slid under her drawers. She shivered as the cold blade extended between her neither cheeks. A snip parted the waistband of her drawers. More snips followed, parting the drawers completely to expose her bottom to the onlookers. Of course there was a scattering of cheers and even a few wolf whistles as her charms came into view.

"Of course they couldn't allow a girl to wiggle too much." Gracie declared. "That's why there was this strap."

Lois stiffened slightly as a strap was buckled around her legs, just above her knees, fixing them in place.

"And let us not forget this one." Gracie said, reaching for the top strap.

Lois expected the broad waist strap to be tightened and that it would press her belly down on the top of the block. What she didn't expect that the position would force her legs apart slightly. She couldn't shift her legs, not the way they were pinioned, which meant as her body lowered Lois could feel her thighs part. She wanted to comment on that, to point out that the way she was exposed was practically frontal nudity, but only a muttered gibberish emerged from her mouth. That was when she realised that how well the "tongue protector" gagged her. It didn't render her silent, far from that, but it render her words meaningless.

Then Gracie turned to face the audience.

"This would be a good time to remind people on the restrictions on photography." Gracie began. "As you all know, this reenactment is set in the late 1800s or the dawn of the 1900s at the latest."

Lois relaxed briefly at those words. She might be exposed but at least there wouldn't be any permanent record of her time among the reenactors.

"As you all know, or rather should know, the first Kodak camera to use rolls of film appeared in 1888." Gracie said, her voice entering the lecture mode she had used in countless classes. "In 1891 the 'ordinary' range of cameras hit the market with the first simple film roll appearing in 1892. At that time the model was 'You Press the Button, We Do the Rest'. In 1895 the first pocket Kodak, which was called 'the $5 Pocket Kodak' was introduced. Then in February 1900 the first Brownie camera was introduced, a box camera that stayed relatively unchanged until 1952. All of this means that film photography, even flash photography, is permitted while digital pictures are banned. And I would like to thank the university's film photography club for the loan of so many old and antique cameras. Rest assured that any pictures you take today will be developed by those who know the meaning of the word 'discretion'. Now I'll just stand aside so people can test out the focus points of their cameras."

Lois stiffened as she learnt that photos would be permitted. She tried to rise, to call it off, but the straps held her in place and the tongue protector made a mockery of her words. A wave of flashes went off as Gracie stepped to the side.

"Now for something that isn't actually period." Gracie said, producing a long wooden dowel. "They didn't actually use this with schoolgirls, but sometimes they strapped them lengthways to what were basically modified sawhorses. A practice that regularly produced what they called 'emissions'. Of course at this date it is impossible to qualify what sort of emission they referred to. Was it urine, excrement, or something else? Luckily we have had several volunteers who rubbed themselves on that style of horse as they were paddled, birched, strapped, and caned. Of course since they weren't immature schoolgirls we can't be sure that their 'emissions' were the same as the historic ones, but Lois isn't a schoolgirl either. Except in the broadest definition that includes third and fourth year university students. Now before we began, notice how this dowel is completely, utterly dry? That's something to remember."

Gracie slid the dowel into the hole, passing it perilously close to Lois' now exposed lower lips. Lois jerk up at the slightest touch, giving the older woman the room needed to slide it into the block's waiting hole.


Part 5 Does this "plot twist" surprise anyone? Any one at all?

"Now how many whacks of the cane did schoolgirls get?" Gracie asked the audience. "Well, most time they started with six of the best.'

Gracie tapped the cane twice across Lois' bottom, finding her aim. Then the cane rose and came down hard.

"Uhhsu!" Lois exclaimed, shocked at the fact that the cane had actually made an impact.

Lois tried to jerk away from the cane, to twist out of its path, but only succeeded at rubbing herself shameless across the dowel. Cameras flashed as the cane crashed down again and again.

Gracie paused after the sixth stroke.

"Oh dear." Gracie chuckled. "Listen to her go on and on. It's beginning to sound as if she's surprised. It's almost as if she didn't read any of the attachments on the emails we sent her and somehow didn't read the release she signed once she got here."

Lois whimpered her agreement to that statement, but the onlookers merely chuckled at the notion.

"But you can all rest assured that I verbally confirmed that she knew that when she signed the agreement that she was committing to doing the entire reenactment." Gracie told the onlookers. "Thus we have consent, if not completely informed consent. In any respect, she recently achieved a 98% on a term project, one complete with over 300 footnotes and a complete bibliography. Anyone who can produce that calibre of work can be assumed to read every part of every email, including all attachments, and thus we have a perfect case for her having given informed consent."

Lois moaned her denial of that, then stopped in mid moan. She had claimed that grade as her own. She needed that grade for her GPA. If she denied that she had done that work then... Then not only would she lose that grade, she would be admitting to cheating, plagiarism, and other academic offences. Offences that people could be expelled for. Offences that could make her entire university experience a meaningless waste of time.

"Of course, while six of the best could be considered a schoolgirl standard, no one would go through the trouble of securing her to a block for a mere six strokes." Gracie said, using her lecturer voice again. "Twelve would be a more severe punishment, making it a baker's dozen would be severe and include an unwelcome surprise, but we wouldn't bother with the block for that. No, we would merely get a pair of older girls to hold over a desk."

"Twenty-four strokes was basically the maximum that a school would give, at least a normal school." Gracie paused at that. "Reform schools, well, they had a higher maximum. Forty-eight strokes was the highest official sentence handed out at a reform school. For an offence to merit that maximum, well it would have to be a terrible thing, wouldn't it? The sort of thing you would involve a judge or magistrate with. In the period we are examining a low court magistrate could, on his own authority, sentence a miscreant to a maximum of 36 strokes of the whipcord. Of course the person tasked with inflicting that sentence would never allow anything as mild as a school punishment to delay his work, so in theory a girl in a reform school could get a full 48 followed by those 36. Of course we lack a proper whipcord, but a strap should serve as an adequate replacement. Nor would her bottom be expected to take such an sentence, at least not while her thighs were there to accept their fair share."

Her words washed over Lois, sending the university student into a form of fugue. Lois was sure, completely sure, that the woman was joking. That the six strokes given to date would be the end of the caning. Memories swirled, reminding Lois that the alternate girl for this demonstration was Assistant Dean Jansen's own niece. Surely this had to be joke, that the woman would never design demonstration like that if her own niece was at risk of experiencing it.

"Okay Lois." Gracie said with a smile. "Let's get you earning that $800."

The kiss of the cane told Lois that the demonstration wasn't over. Its bite on her thighs told her that the woman hadn't been joking about spreading the strokes. Then Lois was too busy wiggling and squirming to worry about Gracie's words. All she knew was the pain of the cane and the odd feelings stirred by the rubbing of the dowel. As the two sensations combined...

Lois was at a loss for words to even mentally describe how those sensations combined. There was nothing she could put in words. Nothing she had ever done, none of her varied experiments at college, gave her the words to classify what was happening. She was helpless, at the Assistant Dean's non-existence mercy, and the pain mixed with not pain in a way that had her hugging the dowel, at least hugging it as much as she could. Lois could feel the tears flowing down her face and in the mirror she could see a tear blurred image of her pigtails flying with every whip of her head, but that didn't matter. All that mattered was how those twin sensations merged into one.

It wasn't until she had screamed a broken moan that Lois realised what had happened. In an instant of recognition it was all clear.

She had cum.

The pain and the pleasure had merged and she had cum.

She had cum on stage, in front of unknown witnesses, and she hadn't noticed it was happening until she came.

This wasn't just nudity anymore, it was porn. From the strobe of flashes she knew that her performance had been captured. Fixed in time on old fashion analogue film.

Then the moment was lost, destroyed by another stroke of the cane.

"My oh my." Gracie laughed. "I had thought we would need to examine the dowel for hints of moistness, but she's quite a gusher isn't she? Look how it's running down her legs. I wonder if she'll do it again during the strapping? Maybe if we loosen the straps slightly, making it easier to rub against the doweling?"

Lois sobbed, defeated by those words as much as by the cane.


But all things come to an end, including canings. One minute Gracie was bringing down the cane and the next she was rubbing a soothing cream on Lois. Lois found herself wiggling towards the cream, not caring how this made her look.

"There, there." Gracie soothed. "This will help replace the healing time you would have between being caned, seen by the magistrate, then disciplined as sentenced. Oh, you like that, don't you?"

At some point Lois realised that she had terrible gaydar, at least based on where the woman's fingers were rubbing. She hadn't picked up any vibes from Gracie, not even after she came under the woman's ministrations.

"There, I think you're recovered now." Gracie laughed. "Now we go to the next stage."

Gracie turned to the onlookers and began to lecture again.

"One of the problems facing those charged with carrying out sentences was that some prisoners would clench their cheeks together. They developed a simple, low tech solution that problem." Gracie lectured. "I'm not saying that they used it in all cases, but mentally review the scene we are reenacting. A problem case who was sent to a magistrate by the reformatory. Of course she would get a bit of the glycerine to ensure her cooperation."

Lois didn't guess at the woman's meaning, not until she felt Gracie's fingers on her bottom. They forced Lois' cheeks apart then Lois was gasping as they entered her, forcing something in. Something that burned.

"There now." Gracie said, patting Lois' throbbing bottom. "Now you know what it feels like to be gingered. Burns, doesn't it? Well keep yourself spread and it will burn less. Now some girls were given that treatment and forced to keep it in for an entire class, but I doubt we need to worry about that falling out. Now remember, it could be worse but we couldn't find a proper whipcord and if you feel you need a distraction, just remember that friendly dowel."

Lois bit down hard on the tongue protector as the strap made its first contact. In an instant she regretted that soothing cream. He bottom had been almost numb with pain but now she felt everything fresh.

To her shame, Lois sought distraction from the pain by humping the dowel. Humping it openly as opposed to rubbing it as she had done under the cane. She knew the history nerds were watching, that they were taking archaic photos of her, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was escaping the pain in that odd feeling of pleasure pain that now merged with the sensation of the ginger.

Lois wasn't counting the blows from the strap. She had no idea how far she was into her sentence when she passed out.


Part 6 Aftermath

Lois came too in a darken room. Naked, her wrists where bound behind her and the tongue protector was still firmly lodged in her mouth.

"That was quite a performance you put on."

Lois searched for the voice, not quite recognising it as Andrew's.

"You came buckets on that stage." Andrew whispered. "Now if you want me to finish things, let me know."

Lois moaned.

"If you want me inside you, lay on your back with your legs open." Andrew clarified.

Lois found herself obeying, despite the throbbing in her rear and thighs. Soon a new throbbing joined it. One that was far more satisfying than a piece of dowel could ever be.


The ride back to the college was hell. The reenactors had provided Lois a pharmacy worth of creams and lotions, even some feel good pills that numbed the pain, but nothing could numb the shame. Lois knew about the display she had put on and so did all of the other reenactors. With a voice slurring around the feel good pills, Lois asked the assistant dean an accusatory question and was floored by the answer.

"Well there would have been less rubbing on my part, the dowel wouldn't in place, and I'd have skipped the ginger, but the answer is yes." Gracie said bluntly. "If my niece had been on that stage then her bottom would look just as bad as yours does. It was a reenactment, not a sex show, and we have to be honest to the period. That's how girls of a certain type were treated back then and that's how I would have treated my niece. Otherwise, what's the point of it?"


What followed was a ride of shame. Assistant Professor Brendan Plaskitt had left early, consigning Lois to a seat in a minivan. On the up side she was sharing it will girls, all history nerds, but on the down side they all wanted to know how it had felt to be on the stage. Lois knew that she was in altered state but it seemed to her that half of the girls in the minivan had thought about taking the role that Lois had played. Either for the money ($800 was a lot for a struggling history student) or out of sheer curiosity. Out of some perverse desire to know how it felt to be caned without mercy while everyone watched, just like what could have happened back in the day.

Lois felt her bikini panties and slacks felt too confining fining on her hot seat so had no objections when the other girls wanted to see the damage 'up close and personally'. At least she hadn't until she found herself face down over the girls in the middle row of seats with one of them holding her arms while the other covered Lois' backside with light swats. But the important thing was she had her clothes back on before they reached the campus.


Lois awoke the next morning, wondering how she had gotten into her bed. All she knew was she was nude and her bottom still hurt. It was covered in welts and bruises that made the previous day's adventure all too real. Worse, she was coming off feel good pills and that always put her in a pissy mood.

Checking her email and social media sites Lois was shocked to see that no one had posted any photos of her ordeal. That lack of posting was almost as stunning as the message from Associate Dean Jansen:

"Lois, everyone agrees you did a great job. It was one of the most realistic reenactments we've seen in ages! We're doing another one soonish (the date keeps moving on us) and we want to know if you want in again. Not for the block but to be one of six girls bent over the bench. We're talking maybe 6, 12, or 24. 36 at the very most but maybe a baker's dozen or so (18?). The pay's $200 for bare, $100 for underwear, and nothing (but the experience) for being fully clothed. Let me know if you want in."



Looking at the message, Lois was torn. Part of her wanted to run screaming but part of her wondered if she could find a $200 purse to match her new shoes. A small part of her even wondered if Andrew would be there. That same part wondered what he was doing now.

Goodgulf

[nray999]

I see you are back in form. The plot twist may have been inevitable, but we were already rooting for it.
The dowel in the block is something new, is there any precedent, or was it your own diabolical imagination?

[goodgulf]

It was my own take on things. After picturing her secured that way I realised that she couldn't hump the block or otherwise try to enjoy herself - so added something that she could enjoy.

This story started out as a "tricked/revenge" story, but I couldn't see having that many people in on the revenge so changed it to something that she was encouraged to enjoy.

Goodgulf