Excerpts from Erotic Tales Of Derring-Do (1931)

Sir had invited us to one of his after-school lessons in the West Wing, after supper. I heard all about it from Jenkins.

"Something about a new game he wants to teach us, is what I heard." Jenkins explained.
"Well, do you know anything about this game? Are there any rules?" I asked.
"Well, I did hear something about, well, all the boys have been invited. Even spotty Chesterton, what I heard. Anyway I heard this rumour about a woman being involved." Jenkins replied.
"A woman? I thought they weren't allowed!" I ejaculated.

Jenkins scratched his head.

"That's all I know, I'm afraid." stated Jenkins.

Jenkins seemed rather perplexed. His usual, calm Welsh nature just wasn't apparent at all. We would usually have lots of jolly fun at Sir's extra lessons, but this was much different. A woman! In a boy's lesson! It was completely unheard of!

Needless to say, there was much excitement about tonight. I spoke to Carrington, the very tall, skinny Prefect who regularly loitered around, picking up on hearsay from all places. Carrington was the font of knowledge, about all kinds of secrets.

He told me what he heard, round the back of the old bicycle shed, as we shared a Woodbine cigarette.

"It's rather an odd thing that's going on. I must say, all the boys know about it, but the absolutely queer thing about it all is that nobody knows quite what Mr. Bennison has planned for this evening! Believe me, I'm always first to know, and not knowing something like this is quite perplexing to say the least!"
"Did you know Sir is bringing a woman along?"
"I do. As a result, I'm not going. I don't see what's so special about bringing a woman along. Anyway, me and Parkinson are coming back here for a spot of fun later. And Parkers managed to smuggle in a bottle of French brandy, clever sod. You're welcome to join in, if you want. Our big boys club."

Carrington, as a school Prefect, had his responsibilities to attend to, but regularly tended to rebel against authority. He would frequently disappear off school premises, without a shadow of a trace, and with complete gay abandon! Heaven wonders what this alternative version of fun would entail, and what would I end up getting as a result.

"Thank you, Carrington, but I'm just too intrigued at what Sir has planned for us all. I have to go!"
"That's such a shame, old boy."

Hours passed. Later on, we had a recital of "As You Like It" in the afternoon, which made the time fly a little, thank God, but tonight was still on everybody's lips.

We heard another rumour during the day. Battersby, a boy who was ruddy of complexion, rotund of shape and red of hair, told me via Jenkins, that Sir had passed him a note with a specific instruction to adhere to.

You see, last week, Sir caught Battersby pleasuring himself, indulging in a session of onanism, or as we like to call it, masturbation! And Sir's note to Battersby kindly reminded him to refrain from such activities for a few days.

Maybe this was something to do with tonight!

"Battersby's having such a tough time keeping his hands at bay. I'm afraid he could explode at any moment!" ejaculated Jenkins.
"That would be unfortunate." I said, concernedly, "I do wonder what this all means."
"Needless to say, I'm rather excited myself!" grinned Jenkins.
"But a woman though? We've never needed one before. We get on fine without one." I said.

Anyway, soon, it was time to go and see Sir with all the other boys. On the way, in the West corridor, we saw Battersby. The other boys were surrounding him, laughing, so I had to investigate.

"Don't laugh, you horrible, horrible bastards! Fuck off now!" Battersby spluttered.

I pushed in through the other boys for a good peek. And what a sight it was!

Battersby stood there, half bent, covering his groin with his hands.

"What is going on? I demand to know!" I demanded.

Farroukh, one of the boys we had here from Morocco, explained.

"Batty's squelched himself. He's wet all through!" he sniggered.
"He's been wanking? In the corridor?" I enquired.
"Oh no, nothing like that, he was walking round pitching a tent. You could see it a mile off! And then he just came, like that. Oh God, I saw it, it pulsated! And I saw it soak through the fabric like an ink spot!"

Poor Battersby must have been quite embarrassed by all of this. Out of sympathy, and for his honour, I handed him a handkerchief and be allowed to have a private moment to clean himself up a bit.

I had a brief talk with old Battersby. He was too embarrassed now to come in to Sir's Lecture Theatre in the West Wing and, on that thought, I had a spiffing idea.

"Battersby. How would you like to go on a little... espionage mission for me?" I asked.
"After saving my bacon back there? How could I refuse? I will espionage for you any day, old chap!" he spluttered.
"Right-o. This is what I want you to do. Listen closely. Carrington and Parkinson are having a little get together round the back of the old bike sheds, I should say around Eight O'Clock. So clean yourself up, obviously, and wear dark clothing. The darker the better. Black clothing would be best. I want to see what they're up to." I ordered.
"OK. Will do." he replied, affirmatively.

As curious as I was about Sir's private lecture, I had to know what Carrington and Parkinson were up to. I hoped Battersby would be alright on the night.

Anyway, we took our seats in the theatre. Sir, nor his guest were here yet. I was a little late, talking to old Battersby, but Jenkins kindly kept a spot for me on one of the middle rows.

"Poor old Battersby!" remarked Jenkins.
"I should cocoa. I would not want to have been in his shoes!" I remarked back.
"Where is he? Is he coming?" Jenkins enquired.
"I've sent him on a mission." I stated.
"A mission? Whatever for?" Jenkins asked, looking puzzled.
"Carrington and Parkinson aren't coming. They are having a get together on their own, the sneaky rebels. Lord knows why, I mean, I wouldn't miss this for the world! Sir's brought a woman. Surely any boy couldn't turn that down!" I replied.
"Maybe they're just not interested. Maybe they just wanna do something different." Jenkins insighted.
"Not interested?" I spluttered, "What are you insinuating, Jenkins?"
"I don't know. I couldn't really say. Tis a bit nippy out too, as well." Jenkins replied.

Sir entered the theatre from the left entrance, becloaked, charming as ever, with the air and grace of the most wondrous teacher imaginable. Even as a middle-aged man, he had that youthful charm on his face, even with his whitening and receding hair.

"Good evening, all. Well, shall we begin?" announced Sir.

We all hushed to silence.

"You may want to know what tonight's surprise is all about. Well, I let slip the rumour that I've invited a real live woman to the school. Now, I know women aren't usually allowed here, what with you red-blooded boys here lurking around, but as well as the usual fun we have here in these special get-togethers, there's the culture aspect you need to have knowledge of. Now, I know two weeks ago, we all had a bit of fun when I passed around those pornographic photos. Some of you still have them, I see, safely tucked away for a bit of naughtiness in the late hours. They were some great pictures though, I mean, phwoar! Anyway, I would like to invite you to meet our new lady friend, I would like to welcome Kimiko. Come in, Kimiko!"

I turned to Jenkins, as the applause began.

"Kimiko? Is that a woman's name?" I asked.
"It might be." Jenkins replied.

A woman entered. She was stunningly beautiful and she looked like one of the women in Sir's photos we had the one time, taken far over in the Far East. My word, she wasn't Chinese, though. What was she, though? Oh my word, she was a Nip!

She wore a black robe around her, which I guess didn't leave much to the imagination underneath. My word, if Battersby had come, he would have certainly filled his underwear right now.

"Cor! Wow! Sir's really outdone himself this time!" I ejaculated.

"OK, silence, please, silence!" Sir boomed, "Now. Kimiko here is a woman who hails from the Empire of Japan, and she is here to help with tonight's task."

Kimiko took centre stage and gazed at us all, confidently.

"Konbanwa! That is-a 'good evening' in Japanese! I feel very-a wercome to your estabrishment tonight."

Sir joined Kimiko at the centre stage, behind her, loosening the straps of her gown. Kimiko then disrobed herself, letting the gown fall to the floor, revealing a fully naked form, with, I must say, a rather cracking set of pert breasts, I must say. I really must say! She was a work of art!

"Right. Now, the rules of tonight's game. It's a bit like the game of Soggy Biscuit we like to play, except, well, Kimiko here plays the part of the, well, biscuit. And no unfortunate punishments for the boy who comes last, well! This Japanese game has a name, back in the Empire of Japan. Boo-cacky? Is that right?" announced Sir.
"It is-a pronounced Bukakke. And I rove Bukakke very much!" corrected Kimiko.

Battersby was quite good at Soggy Biscuit, he never lost a game! School champion, I must say. Rather a shame he was missing out on this, though. I, on the other hand, only last April, had to eat a rather salty jism-topped McVitie's digestive biscuit for my supper, garnished with Jenkins' own cream topping, who finished just before I did.

Well, at least there wouldn't be any losers tonight!

"Right, knobs out, lads! Let's show Kimiko the best of British!" boomed Sir.