Chapter 14: Pregnancy

The rest of their two weeks was relatively relaxed, except for one incident. They were kept busy with games, activities, and small-scale crises. One girl confessed to a mentor that she was pregnant. Since the school was strict and uncompromising, the camp found itself in a cleft stick. Eventually Jo-Lene called the parents and Clive was kicked out of the Guest Hut for a couple of nights.

He slept in the boat house – which caused two girls, who came down for a crafty smoke, to nearly faint from shock as they sat down, lit up and a figured loomed over them from the darkness. “What to do? You know the rules! And this is the worst of bad places to smoke! The whole place is full of combustible stuff. I’ll have to tell. We had a talk about this at the start of the holiday didn’t we?”

The two girls dissolved into tears and promises of never, ever doing it again. They would do anything to be let off. Jo-Lene would send them home. “Well ... I suppose I could impose a punishment and leave it at that.” Yes, yes, they said, anything. Which they actually meant. These two fourteen year olds were still in the Clive Skythe fan club. They meant ‘anything’. “No, not that! I’m not going to prison for a quick fuck, thank you! Not that you aren’t extremely ... no, never mind.

I was thinking of two things: One, you both volunteer tomorrow to help tidy up this place, the ropes and sails etcetera, are in a mess. Two: you come here, bend over for some short, sharp treatment. NO! Not that! Keep your panties on!” He was tempted, but figured bare fourteen year old behinds would be too far for his resolve to hold him back. Each girl bent over, not even on his lap since he was stiff as a board, and he slapped their bottoms hard five times with a sail baton. It made a satisfying ‘slap!’ noise and both girls were fighting back the tears at the end. The school had only given up corporal punishment ten years ago, but that was long enough for these delicate flowers never to have felt wood on buttock or hand. They went out, all three promising that this would never be mentioned. Clive lay back down and satisfied a basic human need whilst fantasizing about what he could have done, he lasted until he removed the second girl’s panties, then he had to wipe his hand.

Unbeknownst to him; two girls were quietly playing with themselves in their beds; fantasizing about what they would have liked him to do to them after the spanking. It would have been forceful and hurt, and they would have been made to give up their virginity to a demonic man with a huge cock. Clive would have had an erection all over again if he had known the size of his erection in their fantasies. Both fell asleep with a smile and woke with a damp patch after a very satisfying dream.

The parents of Camilla-Caterina (‘CC’ to her friends) were shocked, distraught and grateful. They had the rest of the summer to sort out what to do. She would have to leave the school, but there was time to find another. The other option – abortion – was not an option, they explained, as they were both devout. CC’s mother would help her look after the baby. At first adoption had been the preferred route, all (mother, father and CC) had agreed, it would save their reputation. Jo-Lene pointed out that this would be their first grandchild. She showed a gentle side of her character and slowly brought them to think they might lose a lot for the sake of what the neighbours thought.

Mother and Father returned to their hometown, looked at the small box room that would become a nursery, and started to get excited. They had arranged school interviews with a small, liberal, private school when CC returned. CC stayed for the remainder of the camp. Officially, the parents had come for a visit, end of story. CC was excused too much activity. Once again, it was an impressive demonstration that the terrifying alligator that was Jo-Lene was more than that, she had a caring side in spades too. “Like an alligatorphant” said Sandie, telling them how caring elehants were of young in the group, which made Clive, Harry, and Marie picture a cross between a crocodile and an elephant. CC’s secret was a fairly open secret amongst the staff.

“Thank you for giving up your rooms, Clive. I need to come and have a chat tonight, if that’s okay? A long, sensuous, and climactic chat?” Explained Jo-Lene. It had been a stressful couple of days. She needed a night of R&R.

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“Hi Clive. Do you know why these two girls should turn up first thing and offer to help tidy the boat house? Oh, I know you know something! Okay, fine ... I won’t look a gift horse in the mouth.” said Marie.

Some girls guessed that some of the camp friends were more than friends. What about the others? Was Clive servicing ALL the girls? No, a mentor explained, confidently; some girls need special friendships, some don’t; some want to wait until ‘Mr Right’, others ... well others didn’t.” It was an education for these sweet Catholic girls; they had all been hit on at one time or another by boys from The Holy Hand Grenade as the boys’ school was nicknamed – Monty Python had a lot to answer for. Most of them were sensible enough to put the boys off, sex and no contraception was not a good combination, especially if the boy was not under control of himself. This was all very well, but what would the school authorities make of the summer camp offering sex advice? Well, they knew that the camp had mentors and counsellors; so perhaps they were hoping some of the more difficult questions could be addressed to them rather than to nuns who could get rather lost in trying to decide if Jesus would approve of ear piercings or bikinis, or sex education. It could be easier to allow for deniability. The nuns were happy to let Jo-Lene take some responsibility; as long as the girls were well looked after.

Their two weeks came to end and the girls dressed back in their school uniforms; a style of clothing that Clive found infinitely more sexy than the shorts and bra-less t-shirts they had been wearing. There was something about long white socks, and white blouses stretched over growing busts, and little skirts that swayed alluringly. “Stop that, you’ll go blind.” laughed Sandie as she walked past Clive watching the retreating rears of four pretty convent girls.