A soap opera about some university students on a remote island who discover a penchant for spanking.

Alister had an awful smirk on his face. His colleague, Eileen, knew that smirk. She was therefore merely irritated rather than surprised when the old guy produced a camera and stuck it behind the swimmer's bottom just as he was bending forwards to go into a dive.

"You complete and utter..." she began but he shushed her, still smiling.

FLASH! went the camera. SPLASH! went the boy without noticing.

Eileen boredly watched him do a couple of lengths then began to pump cold water into the pool, hoping he'd get the hint and want to get out. As this failed to work she decided to pop into the office to have a word with her colleague.

"You are a complete and utter pervert! What did you take a photo of that boy's arse for, then?"

"Rather a good 'un, bain't it?" chuckled Alister, rubbing his hands together.

Eileen went back into the pool area. That irritating boy that her friend seemed to like so much still hadn't quite got the whole leaving-the-pool-time idea so she opened the door and let the November weather in. Just for good measure Eileen began to sweep all the dirt from the sides of the pool into the lane the boy was swimming in.

"I say," called out the boy. "It is getting rather nippy in here. Do you think we might possibly have the door closed please?"

Eileen tutted and went to close it. As she turned her back she turned the cold water right up so it really charged through that hose.

Eventually the boy got out and, shivering, made his way to the unheated changing room.

"Makes you want to give 'ee a good cuddle, don't it?" asked Alister.

"Perv," answered Eileen, turning the radio up so she could hear her favourite Rihanna somg better. "'Know that we still have each other...'" she sang tunelessly in time with the music.

"Well, if you'll excuse me, I think I need to pop into that changing room - just make sure everything's OK in there."

"Yeah, make sure his willy's OK in there. 'Ella, ella, eh eh eh under my umbrella...'" she continued. She let her older colleague go off to seek his pleasure in his own way while she sought it in hers.

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Kedrick finished towelling himself dry, put his clothes and glasses back on and smoothed his dark hair down. He couldn't be bothered to pay 20p for the hair-dryer. His hair would dry itself as he walked along, he was sure.

"Thank you very much, young man, hope to see you again," said the old man with the moustache as he swept up in there.

Kedrick walked out into the cold November air in a better humour than he'd left the pool. That elderly gentleman had been meticulous in keeping the place tidy and had even thanked him for coming and said that he hoped that he would come again. He understood customer service - even if he didn't understand too much about toothpaste. That young woman earlier had been a ittle dismissive of his needs as a customer he thought.

Kedrick walked towards the student digs. Yes, his wet hair was starting to feel a little unpleasant now but it was all part of any Englishman's training he thought.

When he got into his room he felt ready to unpack. He took out his enormous Cross of St. George and put it on the wall with blu-tack. Then he took out his favourite posters. There was the unicorn running free against the backdrop of a gorgeous English lake and a sycamore tree. There was the naked blonde woman with her hair flowing so as subtly to hide her upstairs and downstairs departments in front of a stunning English waterfall. There was an English knight holding up his axe in front of a lovely English river in the sweet English rain. And, of course, in pride of place was his political poster: English Democrats: Neither Left Nor Right but English. He'd put the rest up later, he decided. It was starting to look like his room - a proper Kedrick room even if it was actually miserable student digs. Mind you he had a good view of the lovely bay from his window - no complaints there.

He took a deep breath and went down to dinner. As he expected people had already started to form cliques. That was the trouble with turning up five weeks late. Mind you he hadn't known that they'd suddenly have a place for him despite his bad "A" Level results. He hadn't wanted to waste it spending a year re-sitting.

At his table sat two unbelievably fat people, one boy and one girl. They continuously passed wind, laughed and ate with their mouths open throughout the meal. Kedrick felt quite sick. He also felt depressed. What kind of rubbishy people were they letting in here, he wondered?

The food would have been sickening enough without the help of the overweight diners anyway. There was cold mashed potato made from powder, overboiled carrots and underboiled peas and goodness knew what else.

Kedrick got up to get some pudding and bumped into a thin angry-looking girl with long dark hair. She wore a long red jumper, long red skirt and red shoes. Red seemed to go with her mood.

"Watch it, you stupid boy!" she yelled at Kedrick.

"Oh, I do beg your pardon," he stammered, not being used to girls and particularly not angry ones.

"Yes, you do. Beg," she said and stormed over towards the pudding area. There was something about her that... well, he didn't know what... Just something.

"Excuse me," he said politely. "Is this where the puddings are?"

"What kind of moron are you? Of course this is where the puddings are. Didn't they teach you the difference between puddings and main courses at Eton?"

"I - I didn't actually go to Eton."

"Well, you obviously went to some stupid boys' posh school. Which one was it?"

"Hawkhouse Boarding."

"Oh, Hawkhouse Boarding," she said imitating his upper-crust accent. "How spiffing. Excuse me, old chap, I shall just help myself to a spot of pudding, what?"

And so saying she gave herself the smallest portion in the world of peaches and cream. Kedrick wondered whether to tell her the difference between a pudding and a dessert but thought better of it. She might hit him.

He sat and ate his spotted dick and custard thoughtfully. This was the best part of the meal by far. Why was that girl making fun of him like that? He felt hurt and upset and frightened and curious and fascinated and intrigued and... well, excited and... something. He wasn't sure. He wanted to please her somehow. Maybe he could help her with her work or carry something for her or perhaps she was short of money and he could give her some?

He went back for seconds.

"Yeah, go on, my son," said the fat girl giving him a pat on the back. "Keep eating - I am." She belched these last two words out and collapsed laughing about it.

Kedrick didn't care. He ate and thought and thought and ate. He imagined the girl smiling at something he'd said. Maybe she might want to join the Party? Maybe she was short of money and he could buy her dinner somewhere? There must be somewhere decent on the island.

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Kedrick awoke the next morning after a night of dreaming he was back at Hawkhouse Boarding and had brought a girl to show the chaps. It was the girl from the refectory and she was smiling at everyone and wearing a hat like the one his mother wore. They all shook her hand. She was wearing white gloves and smiling. The other boys were all saying, "Well done old chap".

Kedrick went to his first lecture. It was on Charles I and the prelude to the Civil War. Kedrick could have wept with delight - this was on of the few bits of history that he had bothered to study properly so he could join in the debate on this one and really show off to his lecturer that he knew what he was doing. And impressing the class was something he was keen to do - there were only three other students in this class: the two fat diners and the angry girl from last night. He desperately hoped that she'd be impressed.

After the class the two fat students mobbed Kedrick wanting to know where he had got his information from and whether he could help them. He was glad to be popular all of a sudden.

And his eyes were, of course, drawn to the thin girl. She was standing in the background smoking and staring at him. He hated smoking but somehow when she smoked... well, it was different.

"So you didn't just spend your time staring at each other's willies at your school then? You're actually quite clever." She blew out a plume of smoke.

Kedrick was nearly beside himself with joy. Those words were music to his ears. That compliment meant more to him than any he had ever had from anybody.

Before he knew it Kedrick was taking his three new friends back to his room to talk about his hero, King Charles I. He removed a poster from his suitcase while his new friends were in there. It was a reprint of Edward Bower's famous portrait of the unlucky King at his trial. Kedrick gave a little talk about it all. The two fat students sat there lapping it all up. The thin girl sat there smoking. He didn't like to say he had a no-smoking policy.

Eventually the two fat ones left saying there was a programme on TV about the history of the tram which they wanted to see. Just before they left they realised they hadn't introduced themselves. She was Poppy and he was Pat.

Kedrick had almost not wanted Poppy and Pat to go. He felt a bit nervous left alone with... well, whoever she was.

"You know you still haven't asked my name. They didn't teach you any manners at your school, did they?" asked the girl.

Kedrick's heart rate started to increase a bit as she started to become abusive again.

"I'm terribly sorry. What's your name again?"

"Again? I haven't told you it the first time. How can I tell you what it is again? I'm Kelly."

She then asked if he was as good at the Reformation as he was on Charles I. He had to admit that he wasn't. She interrogated him about a few other eras.

"You're OK on England from 1642 onwards but absolutely rubbish at what went on before," she said, taking another drag on her cigarette.

"I'm prepared to help you as you've helped me. I'll use the old-fashioned method - I'm sure you know all about it from your posh school. I'll give you until seven o' clock this evening to learn as much as you can. Then you can join me in the boys' changing-room area of the swimming pool. I'll be there with a bottle of wine and a ruler. Every time you get an answer right you get a sip of wine. Every time you get it wrong you get whacked. Hard. You'll thank me for it eventually - it hurts but it's a good way of remembering."

Kedrick thanked her. It didn't sound anything like his school but he didn't say anything.

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It was five to seven. Kedrick had finished cramming his mind full of as much as he could of the bits of history that he wasn't so good at. Surely she wouldn't really hit him, would she? He hoped not. He was frightened of being hit. He found himself trembling slightly in the cold air as he made his way towards the swimming pool.

Sure enough the staff had gone home and left the building open, just as Kelly had said they would. There were no swimmers, just as Kelly had said there wouldn't be.

There she was sitting upright on the wooden bench in the men's changing room, knocking back red wine from one of the three bottles she had with her and wearing a long sumptuous red dress.

"You're two minutes late," said Kelly, not sounding at all drunk. "The discipline should start here. Bend over."

"Seriously? Look here, old girl... I mean, I... you know..."

"Oh, well. Forget it. You don't want my help."

Kelly began to put the cork back in the bottle and stand up.

"No, no - please don't go. Just... please don't hit me too hard."

"'Please don't hit me too hard'? Just how gay was your school?"

Kelly sat down again and picked up a her wooden ruler.

"Bend over."

Kedrick bent over the way he had seen it done in films about the old days. His heart was thumping away like mad. Was this fear? Or was it something else?

THWACK! The pain in his rear end was quite something... yet it was oddly wonderful.

THWACK! She hit the boy again and once again there was the most amazing feeling pulsing through his body all the way from the top of is head right down to his toes... and not missing anywhere out on the way.

After a few more swipes Kelly allowed Kedrick to sit down. He tried to focus on her questions but the idea that her gaze had, however briefly, been focussed on his rear had made him feel humiliated and excited all at the same time.

Kedrick got quite a few right and was given lots of wine. Every now and again he would get one wrong and would have to bend over for another spanking. He began to feel something unfortunate happening down in his naughty parts - he'd have to hide that. Couldn't do that in front of a girl. Most embarrassing.

Suddenly Kedrick got a really bad one wrong. He couldn't remember which King had been defeated at Bosworth. Kelly was shaking her head in pity.

"You've never heard of Richard III? One of Shakespeare's most famous plays was based on him. What an idiot! Stand up and take your trousers down."

Kedrick couldn't believe he was going to be doing that in front of a girl. He pleaded but that only earned him more strokes. In the lowest of ebbs he found himself bending over with his trousers down and his swimming trunks showing. He had wondered why she had said to wear those under his trousers. Now he understood. The pain was something else.







Kelly was actually laughing.

"You sound like Billy Bunter!" she said.

She continued swishing him.

"I can't understand why they ever removed this punishment from your school. That's probably why you're as stupid as you are!"

"Please stop," he said.

"All right, a choice. You can be a baby about it and your trunks are coming off and that will embarrass you but I'll use my hand or we can continue as we are."

Kedrick had never taken his clothes off in front of a girl before and it was all most embarrasing. However he couldn't take the pain. An agonising decision. He went for the baby option and hoped she didn't think he was too unmanly. The spanking on his bare bottom over her knee was a truly amazing experience. He began to feel absolutely high. It was wonderfully intimate - almost sexual, although that was a terrible thought. He must dismiss that. What would Kelly think? He deserved to be spanked for thinking stuff like that he thought.

"Yeah, that's what I mean - there's no transmission," came a familiar voice followed by a burp and then a laugh.

"Yeah, but how do you know there's any reception in here?" came back Poppy's voice.

The door to the changing room burst open and in walked Poppy and Pat with a TV, DVD-player and a lot of DVDs on trams.

"Yeah, if we just set it up over here... what the hell are you two doing?"

There's really no answer to that is there?

The End

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