Eastminster - the long awaited translation

A co-ed boarding school in the Chilterns. Exclusive. Expensive. This is where high society sends its children. Boys and girls. Students here have an almost guaranteed path to success. The best teachers. Superb buildings. Computers. A theatre.Sports fields. Even a river for rowing. Everything that delights the heart of a success-driven English father.

Elite schools of this kind have recently fallen into disrepute. Too elitist. Education and privilege are bought. That doesn’t go down well in a pseudo-egalitarian society. The school is urged to do something for the community. Scholarships are offered for those who cannot pay. The government, the left-wing press, are somewhat pacified. But what they don’t know is that the selection criteria have little to do with intellectual ability…

The scholarship students of Eastminster Academy, one of the most prestigious schools in the kingdom, are all more captivating for their looks than for their intelligence. Their education is free. So are their board and lodging. What few know: the price for it is high.

Success is rewarded. Oxford. Cambridge. Harvard. Failure is punished. How? The parents of potential students don’t like to ask, because they suspect the answer.

Parents who pay, and they pay a lot, know their children are safe. But many children at this school are on scholarships.Outwardly, the criteria for scholarships are strictly academic… but in reality, appearance plays a particularly important role. When academic success fails to materialize, older and former students take responsibility for getting the unsuccessful students back on the right track… and in doing so, no holds are barred.

What follows are a few case studies… we start with Cecily.

Cecily knew her parents were disappointed in her. Although she was a great swimmer, her other academic achievements left much to be desired. Her parents couldn’t afford a private school, even though they had both attended private schools themselves. Scholarships at “normal” private schools were out of the question; Cecily’s grades simply weren’t good enough. Eastminster, however, had a reputation for valuing other qualities, including sports, but also, as the rumours went, looks. In addition to their resumes, applicants had to send in photos… Cecily—delicate, dainty, blonde—received her acceptance letter after just three days.

On the first day of school, “paying” students and scholarship students were greeted separately and had to assemble in different meeting rooms. The scholarship students gathered in the school’s assembly hall, a gloomy, oak-panelled room, almost like a theatre, with a stage and rows of seats. Cecily noticed that the other scholarship students, both boys and girls, were also very good-looking. A teacher of about 50, in a black gown, stepped before the new students.

“Welcome to Eastminster! You are at one of the most expensive and exclusive schools in the kingdom. Congratulations! As you all know, certain rules apply to scholarship students. Your school fees are paid by former students. In return, they expect you to achieve excellent academic results. Your performance will be tested on the first Monday of each month. All students who receive a B+ or better will be treated just like paying students for the following month. Students who perform worse are required to assist older students, the ‘Prefects,’ meaning they must tidy their rooms, run errands, and generally obey the Prefect the are assigned to. Students who do not pass will be corporally punished. We are an ‘old school’ school in that regard.”

The teacher was the only one who laughed at this joke.

“Furthermore, those who do not adhere to our school’s code of conduct or otherwise draw negative attention will also be punished. Punishments are administered by teachers, but also, up to a certain level, by Prefects, i.e., older students whose job it is to maintain discipline. The school rules will be handed to you at the exit. In twenty minutes, the placement test will be in Room 101. Be on time!”

The teacher left the podium, and the scholarship students slowly exited the hall.

The test was dreadful. Cecily was terrified she hadn’t passed. The results were to be announced the next day—all new scholarship students gathered again in the assembly hall. The grades were read aloud. It quickly became clear that most had passed, although only a few received more than a “B.” They received a gold pin. Those who had not passed received a red pin, while all the others received a yellow pin. Cecily, to her relief, had a “D”—she had passed. As she pinned the needle to her blazer, the last remaining results were announced.

“Alright, all scholarship students with a yellow or red pin, please come up on stage and form a line. Scholarship students with a gold pin, you will be treated like paying students this month and are permitted to witness the first punishment ceremony. Congratulations to you, keep it up!”

Cecily stood nervously on the stage, waiting for what was to come. The hall slowly filled with older students. When the hall was full, the teacher (whose name Cecily still didn’t know) called for silence.

“As you know, you will be called in order of your grade point average. Remember that only scholarship students with a red pin may be corporally punished. Rebecca Ward, you have the first choice!”

A blonde, attractive girl, about sixteen, stepped forward and walked along the line of scholarship students. She chose a very handsome boy of about thirteen who was wearing a yellow pin. Both left the hall.

One girl after another chose a boy. Only three boys wore a red pin, and they were chosen next. But instead of leaving with the girl who had chosen them, they had to sit on a long black bench that stood on the stage. The teacher explained why:

“Red-pin scholars, as you know, are corporally punished once a week. The first punishment ceremony will take place fifteen minutes after the selection ceremony is complete. All those wearing a red pin will therefore remain here for the time being and will only go with the older students who have selected them after the punishment ceremony.”

Number five in the grade average was, for a change, a boy. He looked nice, Cecily thought. He chose a small brunette with a red pin. Then it was a girl’s turn again. Her gaze swept through the rows, then, to everyone’s surprise, she chose a small girl with a red pin. Suppressed laughter in the hall. It continued like this. Only two girls had red pins; the second was chosen by number eight on the list, a pimply sixteen-year-old boy.

Then it was Cecily’s turn: a black-haired, somewhat chubby boy of about fifteen chose her, and she went with him. When they arrived in his room, he sat on his bed and examined her more closely.

“So, you know the rules. Outside of class time, you are at my disposal and must obey me. What’s your name?”

“Cecily.”

“A beautiful name. You’re good-looking, by the way. I’ll take a closer look at you later. But I don’t have time now, I have to go to the punishment ceremony for the new scholars. I can’t miss that. Yellow-pin scholars aren’t allowed there, of course, so you have time to tidy my room and clean my bathroom. Spotless, please, by the time I get back. My name is Julian, by the way.”

He left the room. Cecily looked around properly for the first time. The room was a complete pigsty. She made the bed, picked up socks and underwear from the floor, tried to organise the scattered papers as best she could, took various food scraps to the trash, and then got to work on the bathroom. She was just cleaning the sink when Julian came through the door.

“You’re not finished yet? That’s not good. This needs to get better. Come back into the room now.”

Cecily put down the sponge and went back into the room.

“Some very attractive scholars this year. Pretty. And, fortunately, pretty dumb, so they get punished. A pity I’m not allowed to punish you for your dawdling. That would be great fun for me. But so be it. Now let me have a look at you. Turn around slowly on the spot.”

Cecily did as she was told.

“You have a good figure. Please take off your top.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Disobey me, and I’ll report you.”

“Then report me! I’m not getting undressed for you!”

“No problem!”

He left the room and locked the door. Cecily was trapped. The minutes passed. Then footsteps in the hallway. The key turned in the lock. Then Julian entered, accompanied by two teachers.

“Julian says you disobeyed him. Is that true?” asked one of them.

“He wanted to see me topless. I didn’t go along with that, naturally.”

“He is not allowed to punish you or order you to perform sexual acts. But otherwise, you must obey his every word. Otherwise, you will be punished in front of all the (paying) students. It may not be clear to you, but the punishments are very harsh. You will be completely naked, not just in front of Julian, but in front of almost the entire school. We’re giving you one more chance—use it!”

The teachers left the room, leaving her alone with Julian.

Silence. Julian just looked at her expectantly.

She knew she had no alternative. She took off her school blazer and began to unbutton her blouse. When she stood before Julian in just her bra and skirt, he motioned for her to stop.

“Next, please take off your panties.”

“But I thought you only wanted to see my top…”

“Plans change. Please do as I’ve asked.”

Cecily turned even redder than she already was and took off her panties. She now stood before him in her bra and skirt. She was very aware that the school skirt at Eastminster was exceptionally short.

“Fitness is very important at our school. So first, I want to see a few stretching exercises. Turn around and touch your toes with your fingertips, legs straight!”

Cecily was a good athlete—she had competed for her county in swimming. So she had no trouble touching her toes.However, in doing so, her much-too-short skirt slid up, which Julian had of course intended. Her blonde pubic hair peeked out from under her hemline.

“You’re a real blonde, I think that’s great,” Julian commented. “But now it’s really time to take off the bra!”

Cecily knew she had no choice. So there she stood before this somewhat chubby boy and took off her bra, so that she was topless, in just her short school skirt, in front of him.

“Okay, then let’s continue with physical education. Jog in place, please!”

Cecily obeyed. Her breasts weren’t large, and they were athletically firm—nevertheless, they naturally moved as she did,which Julian of course intended.

“Enough, that was very nice. Now you can put the skirt aside as well, please.”

Cecily finally stood completely naked before Julian.

“You are very pretty. Almost as pretty as my last fag girl. But only almost. My last fag girl had a particularly pretty arsehole. Show me yours!”

Cecily turned around and showed Julian her bottom.

“Your arse is okay. But I want to see your arsehole. Bend over and spread your butt cheeks! Go on!”

Cecily was outraged! She would never humiliate herself to such an extent! She gathered her clothes, quickly put on her panties and bra, and stormed out. Luckily, no one was in the hallway. She put on her blouse and skirt and ran back to her room (which she shared with a girl named Evie). She threw herself sobbing onto her bed.

That’s how Evie found her. Evie had been at Eastminster School for two years already. So she wasn’t surprised to find her roommate like this. Soon, Cecily had told her the whole story. Evie explained to her, however, that Julian would probably go to the headmaster. She had broken the rules, as she was obliged to give Julian absolute obedience. Cecily dreaded what was to come.

To her surprise, the next day seemed completely normal. In the third period, however, the math lesson was rudely interrupted when the headmaster, Dr. Hills, came into the classroom.

“Pardon the interruption, colleague. One of your yellow-pin scholars has refused to obey her prefect. I therefore have a new, red pin for her. Furthermore, I will punish her in front of her class. The lost time will be added to the end of the lesson—lunch will just be a little shorter!”

Cecily was not surprised when he called her name.

“Come to the front, please. First of all, we’ll swap the yellow pin for a red one. With that, your prefect has the right to corporally punish you. You will also be punished at the next weekly punishment ceremony. You will have to undress completely for that. You are spared that today. However, I would like to ask you to remove your knickers before I carry out the punishment.”

Cecily was shocked. She would never have dreamed that anything like this would be done to her in a civilised school in the most civilised country in the world! But she knew she had no other choice: she slipped out of her knickers—the skirt, though short, still covered her private parts.

“Your upper body over the teacher’s desk!”

Cecily obeyed. Her bottom was facing the class. She was very aware that her skirt barely covered it. But that didn’t last long. Dr. Hills grabbed the hem of the skirt and exposed her bottom. He grasped her butt cheeks and pulled them apart, so that the whole class could now see her anus! A murmur went through the class.

“Since you have only just arrived, I will show mercy,” said Dr. Hills. “Five strokes of the cane, no more. The class will count along, please.”

He raised the cane and brought it down on Cecily’s unprotected backside. It sounded like a whiplash. Cecily bit her lip and suppressed a scream. She remained silent for the second and third strokes as well. On the fourth, however, she couldn’t suppress a sharp cry, and when the fifth landed exactly where the second had already left a red welt, her loud scream filled the classroom.

Then it was over. The new students, especially those wearing a yellow pin, were visibly shocked. For the others, what they had seen was nothing new: red-pin scholars had already been publicly punished, and gold-pin scholars had been allowed to witness this spectacle, as had paying students, of course.

Cecily returned to her seat, knowing that from now on, Julian was allowed to punish her physically. Her concentration was, to put it mildly, suboptimal for the remaining school hours.

After class, she duly reported for duty in Julian’s room. He just looked at her in silence. She became nervous under his gaze. She raised her hands as if to unbutton her blouse. He nodded slowly. Hesitantly, she unbuttoned her blouse; he nodded again. Soon she stood naked before him.

He still looked at her in silence, his eyes roaming over her naked body. He still said not a word. She knew what he wanted from her. Sighing, she got on her knees, her back to Julian, bent forward, and pulled her butt cheeks apart with her hands.

“Bravo. A pity that obedience is so difficult for you!” he finally broke the long silence. “Now please show me your other hole as well!”

Cecily turned even redder than she already was, but sighed, sat up, sat on the floor, spread her legs, and held her labia apart.

“Good. I like you. For that reason, and because you’ve already been punished in class, I will spare you the cane. So, lie over my lap—I’ll spank your bottom with my hand!”

Cecily followed his every word. It was extremely uncomfortable for her to feel his erection in his groin. Then he began to spank her, slowly, rhythmically, hard. In the end, her backside was bright red.

“So, and now you’ll tidy my room and clean. I want to be able to see my reflection in the bathroom tiles!” When Cecily made a move to get dressed again, he thundered: “Who said you should perform your duties in clothes! You will remain naked!”

And so it went, day after day: After class, Cecily would report to Julian, undress without being asked, and clean. If he found fault with her work, he would put her over his knee as punishment: one smack for each point of criticism. Not the life Cecily had dreamed of, but it was bearable. But Friday, and with it the weekly punishment ceremony, was approaching.

The night before was terrible. The day was even worse. Cecily knew: after class, she had to report to the assembly hall and would be physically punished for her disobedience in front of paying students and gold-pin scholars. On the way to the hall, she met Evie, who wished her good luck. Evie was not allowed in the hall—she was a yellow-pin scholar.

The five other red-pin scholars, three boys and two girls, were already on stage when Cecily entered the assembly hall. In the middle of the stage was a punishment bench made of dark wood, covered in various places with leather-clad foam.Nervously, Cecily joined the girls to the right of the punishment bench.

Slowly, the hall filled with students. When it was full, Dr. Hills spoke:

“The second punishment ceremony of the year sees the number of red-pin scholars increased to six—now three boys and three girls. After all, our school has always been an equal-opportunity school!”

Again, only he himself laughed at this zinger.

“Cecily Grant from the seventh form has disobeyed her prefect and was ‘rewarded’ with a red pin and a caning in her class. The other five scholars are already well-known to all. I have not been made aware of any offences by the scholars, so the punishment will be limited to the standard measure. All will receive ten strokes of the cane. As last week, the motto is: volunteers first!”

The scholars on stage looked at each other hesitantly. One of them, a well-built young man, stepped forward decisively. He stood in the middle of the stage and began to undress. Soon he stood naked before the audience, placed his hands at his sides, and waited. After about thirty seconds, Dr. Hills instructed him to lie over the punishment bench—his backside was now facing the audience. He endured the ten hard strokes of the cane that followed without a sound. Then he stood with his back to the audience at the edge of the stage. The cane had left clear marks.

“Who’s next?” asked Dr. Hills.

Again, a boy stepped forward quickly and began to undress. When his trousers fell, Cecily immediately noticed that his underpants seemed to be quite well-filled. When the underpants followed the trousers, it quickly became clear that his member was semi-erect. Scornful laughter from the audience, but also female voices that sounded appreciative. The boy’s face turned red. It was clear how much he was waiting for the headmaster’s redeeming voice. But it was a long time coming. His penis grew and grew until he stood before the school with a full erection.

Without further comment, he was then ordered onto the punishment bench—with each stroke of the cane, he cried out loudly. Although he did his best to turn his back to the audience, it was still clear to see that his member was still stiff as he stood at the edge of the stage next to the first scholar who had been punished.

The four remaining scholars stood on stage, one boy to the left, three girls to the right of the punishment bench. After about two minutes of tense silence, one of the girls took heart and stepped forward. She undressed matter-of-factly and quickly and soon stood naked before the school. Her breasts had only just begun to develop, and between her legs, very sparse pubic hair was visible. Her eyes were fixed firmly on the floor. When the command came, she lay over the punishment bench and endured the ten strokes of the cane. Only a soft sob could be heard. Then she stood next to the two boys at the edge of the stage.

Cecily wanted to keep her public nudity as brief as possible and had firmly decided to wait until the end. The other two, however, probably had similar plans. In any case, two minutes later, no volunteer had yet been found.

Then Dr. Hills was heard to say: “For every minute I have to wait, the next scholar gets a punishment enhancement. So please, ladies and my gentleman!”

Cecily was paralysed, still considering what that might mean, when the girl next to her stepped forward. Soon she too stood naked before the school. Her very pretty face had promised more than her body could deliver. Her breasts hung down on her torso, her stomach was not as flat as one would wish for in a girl her age, and her private parts were hidden behind thick, black pubic hair. She was well aware of her shortcomings—a tear ran down her pretty face.

“Although I actually had to wait almost two minutes, I will show mercy once again,” said Dr. Hills. “So there is only one, not two, punishment enhancement. Five additional strokes.”

Resigned, the girl lay over the punishment bench. Dr. Hills brought the cane down on her backside with a higher frequency. Nevertheless, the punishment lasted about two minutes longer than for the others. Her bottom was fiery red as she joined the others at the edge of the stage.

Immediately, both Cecily and the boy who had not yet been punished took a step forward.

“This new enthusiasm is gratifying. I believe Mr. Hollis was a fraction faster. We’ll save Miss Grant for last. Mr. Hollis has earned himself two punishment enhancements, and Miss Grant, therefore, three.”

The boy undressed slowly. It quickly became clear why he hadn’t shouted “here” when volunteers were asked for: his member stood taut and stiff, pointing slightly upwards. Nevertheless, he stood, arms at his sides, before the school.

“The first punishment enhancement means five additional strokes. The second, that they will be carried out on his erect member. We will start with that. Who would like to administer the first five strokes?”

About five hands went up, two of them belonging to girls. Dr. Hills chose one of them: a chubby, pimply creature, also from the seventh form. Dr. Hills gave her the cane and with a broad grin, she drew it across the boy’s erect member. The foreskin fortunately protected the glans, but stroke after stroke hit the member. In the end, five stripes could be seen very clearly. Now he had to lie over the punishment bench and received another ten strokes from the headmaster. And then it was Cecily’s turn.

She stepped forward. She trembled as she slowly undressed—opening her bra caused her some difficulty because of it.When she stood naked on the stage, trembling with fear and cold, she felt the gazes of her fellow students on her. She had folded her hands in front of her private parts.

“Since Miss Grant is not standing before us in the prescribed posture, her punishment is increased by four, not just three, punishment enhancements. I will determine the first three; the fourth I will leave to the audience. So, my three punishment enhancements are (1) five additional strokes of the cane on the backside, with legs spread; (2) five lashes with the whip on the back; and (3) two lashes with the whip on the breasts. While the punishment is being carried out, please write your suggestions for the fourth punishment enhancement on a piece of paper and pass it to the end of the row.” In the meantime, Cecily stood on the stage, her hands now properly at her sides, and wept uncontrollably. This was dreadful!How could this have happened to her! Through a veil of tears, she perceived a woman dressed like a nurse asking if she would prefer to be blindfolded. She nodded through her tears.

Without really knowing how she got there, she now found herself blindfolded on the punishment bench. Then she felt the cane. “One!” the audience shouted in unison. A stroke every ten seconds. Her bottom was on fire. Then a pause, after ten strokes. Someone attached a Velcro cuff to each of her ankles—then the punishment bench was readjusted so that her feet no longer touched the floor. Her legs were now pulled apart and fixed. She could only guess what a view she must be offering the audience of her most intimate openings! Then the cane struck again, but slower now. About thirty seconds passed between the strokes. After the last stroke, she was left in position for a moment, although additional Velcro cuffs were placed on her wrists. Then she felt her feet being freed. She stood on her own two feet again. Then her arms were fastened above her head. Then the first lash on her back. The pain was terrible. The second hit her a little lower. She screamed continuously. When it was over, she hung in her bonds. These were now released, however, she was turned around, and her arms were then fixed above her head again.

“I think Miss Grant should experience the rest of the punishment with her eyes open!” she heard Dr. Hills’ voice. The blindfold was removed. She saw a sea of grinning faces. To her left stood Dr. Hills, a long whip in his hand. He drew back, and the blow hit her directly under her breasts. Boos from the audience. The second blow then hit the target: an ugly red welt stretched across Cecily’s breasts.

“Okay, as for the last punishment of the evening, we have made a preliminary selection from your suggestions, for which we thank you. Many suggestions want to see Miss Grant’s vulva punished. We have therefore selected as a sort of average, as Option 1, fifteen lashes with the cat-o’-nine-tails between her spread legs.”

Cecily couldn’t believe it. She was sure it would come to this extreme punishment. Instinctively, she tried to free herself from her bonds, but that was of course futile. In the meantime, Dr. Hills continued speaking:

“For Option 2, I have chosen the following suggestion: We will hold a lottery; the winner may then determine an appropriate punishment and also carry it out themselves.

That leaves Option 3: Twenty lashes with the bullwhip distributed over the entire body.”

Cecily, who had initially only wanted to avoid the lashes between her legs, was now no longer so sure whether the other options weren’t even worse.

“Okay, we come to the vote. The option for which you make the most noise wins. As a reminder: Option 1: Vulva; Option 2: Lottery; Option 3: Bullwhip. So, who is for Option 1?”

The hall erupted in loud clapping and shouting.

“Option 2?” Again a loud reaction, but not as strong as for Option 1.

“Option 3?” Again the hall erupted in loud clapping, shouting, and stamping.

“I’m not sure if Option 1 or 3 wins,” said Dr. Hills. “Please again for Option 3!”

Loud reaction.

“Option 1?” Shouting, stamping, clapping.

“I believe Option 1 wins. Please prepare the subject.”

Three older students pushed the punishment bench forward and fixed Cecily’s legs to the designated rings. Then her hands were released from the ropes hanging from the ceiling and immediately also fixed to the punishment bench. The punishment bench itself was then rebuilt in such a way that Cecily’s legs were fastened far apart behind her head. Her vagina was unfolded for all to see, her anus was also visible to all. She just wanted to get it over with now.

Dr. Hills stepped forward, the many-tailed whip in his hand. He raised it and struck. Cecily’s scream was lost in the tumult in the assembly hall. Again and again he struck. When it was over, Cecily was just sobbing. She was untied.

“All six red-pin scholars can get dressed and report to their prefects. See you next week!”

The clothes hurt on Cecily’s skin. She dragged herself to Julian’s room.

“That was extremely stimulating,” he greeted her. “Please get undressed again and lie over my knee!”