The dream always began the same way. Moonface was back in his old room, in the Faraway Tree. He would go to the cupboard, and fetch the sugar and the vinegar. He then took up a saucepan and measured the ingredients for toffee shocks. Then, while he was getting ready for the secret ingredient (the one that made the toffee shocks explode), the pot would turn into Silky. He'd be stirring the toffee with a spoon one moment and the next, rubbing her tiny naked elfin body. He'd rub and rub and rub and Silky would moan and pant and then she'd reach for his zip and pull his trousers off. He wanted to tell her to stop, that it would hurt her, but in the dream, he could never speak, he'd just have to watch in horror as she began to lick him with her tiny little pink tongue. His hands would rub her slippery soft skin, he hair would tickle his balls, he fingers would stroke his stomach, her mouth would engulf his manhood. He'd be getting closer and closer to orgasm, his legs would cramp, and then, inevitably, he'd force himself to wake up.
Moonface woke up. He could feel the sweat slick on his skin. He could lick it from around his lips with his toungue, but his movements were hampered by the shakles holding him to the bed. One on each hand, one on each leg. The bed was iron, the room was a small white dormitory. A little window allowed him to see out to the green garden, when he could stand up. He groaned and lifted his head slightly - he could see his erection, but there was nothing he could do about it. He whimpered slightly in the cold early light, straining against the cuffs, knowing he only had to wait and eventually he'd be allowed up.
It was not until a few hours later that he heard the door being unbolted.
"I hope you had good dreams", said Dame Slap, waddling into the room. Her white bonnet was freshly starched, and she was holding a tapestry bag.
Dame Slap. Was she his tormentor or his saviour?
"Yes, mam," said Moonface dutifully.
SLAP!
"You lie, you had terrible dreams," said Dame Slap. "I heard you moaning during the night." She slapped him again and he winced slightly. Just enough reaction, he'd learned, was good. If he did not react enough, she'd slap him so hard that he'd be in pain. If he reacted too much, she'd give him something to react to, and that would hurt too. Pain was realtive, but Madame Slap was the master of it's administration.
"Anyway," continued Dame Slap, "I need some more toffee shocks. You shall make me an extra big batch today, the people from the Land of Free Love are coming to tea and i want to make sure they go home with something to talk about." She reached over and uncuffed him, starting on his legs. her bonnet strings ticked him slightly as she reached over him, but he knew better than to make a sound.
"You know what to do," she said. Moonface nodded, got up, and walked over the wall. He placed his hands carefully on the well worn patches on the wall, and stood carefully where he always did. She let him stand for a few minutes. He knew she liked to look at him, helpless and unbound except by his own acceptance of her dominance. He bowed his head slightly and waited patiently.
He heard her opening her tapestry bag, and the slight clinking noise as she took out the walking shackles. She snapped them on his ankles, and held the long chain which she then fastened to the hand cuffs. "Hand," she commanded and he dropped his hands, one by one, as she fastened them together with the chain. He could walk slowly, he could cook, but not much else.
She strapped on his leather harness, slapping him across his back as he moved slightly when the cold rivets touched his skin. She took up the long strap on the back of the harness. This allowed her to hold onto him firmly, and it also doubled as a strap if she decided he'd been naughty and needed more than a slapping.
"Kitchen", she said, and he turned and shuffled out of his dormitory, into the long, dark corridor that led to the kitchens.
When he'd first come here, there had been classes of unruly children and elven folk. Dame Slaps school was well known for breaking the spirits of the rudest fairy, the naughtiest brownie. He'd come here by accident, mistaking the land for that of 'take what you want', with those children, and Silky and her clock. They'd been forced to attend classes, and Dame Slap had doled out slaps when they'd got the answers to her questions wrong. They'd escaped in a small aeroplane, the others horrified with the school and delighted with their escape, but he'd been wistful. So he started coming back. Whenever the land was due, he'd tell his friends he was visiting a cousin, and he'd climb the ladder at the top of the tree, and Dame Slap would be waiting for him. At first, the visits had been short. She'd yell at him and slap him and he'd run off, back to the ladder. Then the visits got longer. He started staying overnight, tied to the bed. She'd slap him and slap him and the next day until him and he'd run to the ladder and escape. Then, one day, he showed her how he made toffee shocks. That was the turning point, he knew now. She loved them. She made him make batch after batch, until he could barely stand. Then, she refused to let him go when the land began to move away. He'd been horrified, and begged her to release him. He'd strained against the cuffs, trying to get out. She'd laughed at him and then slapped and pummeled him and led him to the dormitory and told him the rules. He was very naughty and deserved punishment and he was going to have to stay until he learned to behave.
"I'm not staying!" he'd told her, "My friends will come and get me!". Dame slap had smiled nastily and said if they tried, they'd have to stay, too.
"The school was good," she said, "but there's more profit for me in keeping naughty folk locked up. Children! Bah! I can't do anything with them. There are plenty of nice grown up folk wanting what i can offer them. So, if your friends turn up, i'll lock them up too. Imagine how good you're little elf girlfriend would look in a rubber suit. Imagine how she'd squeal when i slap her. Imagine how she'd cry when i cut off that silky hair of hers and braid it into a whip and slap her with it."
He imagined, and the thought of Silky and Saucepan locked up her with Dame slap made him sweat with horror.
And they handn't come to find him. They didn't know where to look. He hoped they didn't miss him too much, that they took over running the slippery slip and they didn't worry too much about where he had gone. His life now centered around his little room, if he was lucky, she'd come up with tasks for him to do, things that needed digging, pictures hung, walls painted, leather straps to clean. He cooked a bit, he gardened a bit (living in a tree meant he didn't know a lot about gardening much, though). He knew he wasnt' the only one here. at night, he could hear moaning and noises from dormitories around him. It was comforting, the knowledge that there were others like him around.
They had reached the kitchens.
"I want a good, potent, batch," said Dame Slap, glaring at him. She pointed at the pan, the toffee moulds, the sugar,vinegar, and a big jug of water. "You havn't done one in a while, you should be able to make them strong."
"Yes, Mam," he said and began to pour ingredients into the saucepan, then began to stir it over the flame.
Right. Toffee shocks. He remembered the others eating them with gusto. He remembered at first, how he'd felt when he started handing them out. Then they got popular. He was asked to bring them to parties and teas.
All he had to think about was Silky. Silky, he beloved little elf, who used to come to his rooms when the children were gone, and talk to him. Silky, who he loved but he couldn't touch, becuase he loved her too much. He didn't want to hurt her. Her little pointed face and ears, her cloud of golden soft hair. He moaned slightly and felt his erection returning. Ah, what a delightful feeling. He could touch himself now, he could come this time. The toffee mixture was bubbling. He had to time it right. If he added the 'pop' ingredient too fast, the toffees would explode as soon as you put them into your mouth. If he could delay it until the toffee began to thicken, and then stir fast, then they would be perfect. He thought of silky's hair, of touching it with his hands, he thought of how good it would be to feel her nipples harden in his mouth. Imagine her moans as he licked her body, as she convulsed under his hands and mouth. He stirred the boiling toffee with one hand while the other dropped to touch his swelling penis. Yes, this would be a good batch. there were some sugar crystals on his fingers, he could feel the roughness, dissolving as he gripped and strained at himself. Dame Slap was standing right behind him, holding the harness tight. He could her her breath on the back of his neck, and she began sofly to slap his backside, his thighs. Yes, that would do it. "Make them good," she breathed at him. "Or you're going to be in trouble."
He nodded, panting, as he moved his hand rapidly and rhymatically. The toffee was thickening, bubbles forming, the colour of them the colour of Silky's hair. He thought of his dream, with Silky's soft tounge touching his glans, and it was enough. He cried out as he orgasmed into the pot. The stuff steamed and bubbled, trying to explode. If he left it alone, it would, as soon as it left his body. He'd discovered by accident one day that sugar stopped the reaction, at least until you ate the sugar. Sometimes, it exploded before it hit the toffee. he had to position himself over the pot just so, too. Oh, this was a tricky operation, all right! He stirred furiously until the volatile stuff was all mixed into the gooey toffee mixture, and then quickly poured the toffee into the moulds.
There. It was done. And it was a large, potent batch. It always was, after one of those dreams.
He allowed himself to collapse onto the floor, and lay there, sighing softly to himself. Dame Slap was always good to him when he had just made toffee shocks, she allowed him some leeway. They waited there in silence while the toffee slowly cooled. This was part of the ritual. Then Dame Slap reached over and took picked up a toffee. She popped it into her mouth, and chewed. And chewed and chewed. He could see the distortion in her cheeks as it got bigger and bigger and bigger and then finally, when her jaw was straining and she was starting to look panicked, the toffe exploded into nothing in her mouth.
"You've been good," she said approvingly. "Those are very good toffees. My guests will enjoy them. I shall call them 'euphamism sweets', they can try and guess why. Now, get up. I'll let you run around the garden for a bit today, as a reward". He climbed to his feet and waited while she undid his shackles. "Go, before i change my mind," she commanded, and he shot out of the kitchen into the garden. He knew he had about five minutes before she would come looking for him, and if she had to come looking for him, she'd be very, very slappy.
He turned his moon face up to the sun, the grass soft under his feet. He remembered the look on Silky's face when he'd pushed her away that time. He'd hurt her by not loving her, but he couldn't tell her why he couldn't ever love her physically. His body ached for her, but if he'd stayed any longer living next to her, he would have given into the desires of his body, and he would have hurt her, like he did to that cute little visiting goblin who never walked again.
He sighed and slowly walked back to his room. Maybe he'd dream of Silky again tonight. Mabye.

Mirabel's Birthday Feast
or
Claudine Does St Claires

(This relates to chapter 15 of Claudine at St claires. The girls have snuck away to have a midnight feast by the pool, and Claudine has just locked matron in the cupboard and is off to see what Eileen is doing)

Claudine's heart was beating fast as she hurried back to the pool at midnight. Matron would not now spoil the girl's fun! But where was Eileen going? Softly running on her rubber soled shoes, Claudine sped off in the direction she'd seen Eileen slipping away. SHe could hear faint sounds of the girls enjoying themselves by the pool. She didn't mind missing out on the swim, and food at midnight made her feel slightly ill. At the french convent school, she'd often at night crept behind the alter in the church to nibble at purloined holy wafers. Food was hard to come by. Holy wine tasted dreadful, too. The girls there were pious and well behaved, all but Claudine. Claudine preferred this so strange english school where manners were freer and there were sweets and cake distributed by girls on their birthdays. As well as the St Claire's birthday tradition....
Claudine liked birthdays in this english school.
She had been running along the little lane that ran behind the trees, and noticed a white figure in front of her. Claudine recoginised Eileen and sprinted faster. The games mistress would have been surprised at the amount of speed Claudine could put in for a good cause!
She reached Eileen and called her name softly.
Eileen stopped dead and turned to stare at Claudine. "Why are you following me?" she demanded, "Leave me alone?"
"Where do you go to at this time?" asked Claudine, her face white in the moonlight, reaching out for Eileen.
"Nowhere...I felt like a walk. Leave me alone! What are you doing here?" accused Eileen. She tried to shake Claudine's hand from her arm but couldn't. They both stood their breathing heavility from the excercise.
"I am awake, and I think Oh! It would be nice to walk in the so-nice moonlight", grinned Claudine. "And then I see a person also walking in the moonlight and i think, this person, she needs company. And i follow you and here i am, you see!"
Eileen was forced to laugh. She rather liked Claudine, for all her strange french ways. "Please promise not to tell my mother, Matron, but i was going to visit Eddie," she said suddenly. "But i'd rather walk with you. "
"Let us walk, then, without a mistress to tell us to collect nature samples, or walk faster or the sun to give us a freckle," agreed Claudine. She wound her arm in Eileens and the girls strolled together, talking and laughing softly. She would not tell Eileen she'd just locked matron in a cupboard. Matron could stay there until morning for all Claudine cared - she could stay there until next half term!
"EEk!" cried Claudine suddenly as her foot caught in a tree root. She tumbled forward, pulling Eileen with her. The girls rolled into a laughing heap at the side of a path, Claudine landed on top of Eileen.
"And i say to myself, this so-english Eileen, she is lonely," Claudine said softly, her lips close to Eileen's ear.
"I am lonely," admitted Eileen. "I tried to make friends with Alison but she's so full of Angela. Can't she see beyond Angela's lovely face?"
"Angela, she is a demon," whispered Claudine. "Alison will have her heart broken. You should look around you, there are other friends you can have. Me, I have no friend. Hilary I like but she is not interested in the little Claudine, she likes the luxury of twins. Me, I am also lonely at this school and me, I like the little lonely Eileen..."
She cupped Eileen's face in her thin white hands and touched her lips against Eileens. As she had expected, eileen responded with abandon. The kiss was deep and lingering. Eileen's hand slid over Claudine's back, down to her legs, and worked it's way up her dressing gown.
"We should be special friends," breathed Eileen. she pulled at Claudine's dressing gown, who with a fluid movement removed it. Claudine was now wearing only her bathing suit.
"You seem to be well dressed tonight," whispered Claudine, and threw Eileen's coat into the bushes. Eileen giggled.
"You need to do something about that," she said.
Claudine ran her hand over Eileen's jersy, pausing on her breasts, swelling softly under the harsh knitted fabric. Her fingers stopped and she felt Eileen's hardening nipples barely. she pulled the jersey over her head and it followed the coat. Eileen was wearing her bodice.
"You did not remember to wear your blouse today, take an order mark against the form," said Claudine severely. Eileen lay on her back and cirlced around claudine's waist, her hands busily touching Claudine on her arms, neck, and face. She tugged at the fastening on Claudine's bathing suit. The straps gave and Claudine's slender while body gleamed in the moonlight. Eileen pressed her mouth to claudine's dark circular nipple, grasping the ohter breast in the other hand.
"You english girls, you like the sport and you like to be honourable," groaned Claudine, as her nipples were pinched and suckeld, "but never, until the first birthday, did i know how you all like to celebrate the birthdays. Me, I like to celbrate like that all nights. But you english girls, you only do this on special occasions."
Eileen shifted her body slowly down Claudines, to her small belly. Her small pink toungue worked over Claudine's beautiful soft skin. somehow claudine had managed to remove more of eileen's clothes until she was left only wearing her thick black stockings and garter belt. Claudine seemed satisfied with this.
"True," she said, not giving the matter the consideration it deserved as she positioned herself within better reach of claudine. "But it makes the birthday celebration that much better when it's all saved for the right occasion!"
She thought back to earlier in the term, when Doris had had her birthday night. As a rule, the birthday girl could choose what theme the night would take for her birthday treat. Doris had been known before to perform wild antics with a ginger beer bottle, and it had been no surprise to anyone that she chose ginger beer bottles for her birthday 'treat'. The girls had thought up all sorts of interesting ways to use ginger beer, including, as Pat had said to Janet, a "really super way of shaking up the bottle so it fizzed and then holding it just....so!" Janet's squeals had woken some of the third formers in the next dormy and they'd come to investigate. SOme of those third formers had had a bit of a shock when coming to investigate, but had since then taken every bit of noise from the fourth form as an excuse to 'investigate'
Eileen nibbled her way down to Claudine's soft silky hair. It smelt musky, delicious. she buried her face in it and felt the soft slipperyness of claudine, and she began to draw her tounge over her. "Wait," said Claudine and twisted her body around so that she could reach Eileen. The girls both sighed with delight as they both worked on exiting the other.
Two bodies, entwined in the moonlight, one slender and nude, the other firm, well shaped, with black stockings on. Hands, one pair soft from care, one roughened from helping wash linen and mend things, stroked each others bodys, stroked each other's sex. Both girls were moaning and panting, toungues working hard as they groaned and cried out, working each other into transports of delight. Claudine climaxed first, eileen's strong pink tounge casuing waves of ecstacy to cramp her toes, to work their way up her legs, and a spreading, convulsing warmth to explode along the length of her. She jerked and writhed but kept licking at eileen, sure in the knowledge taht the stockinged girl was close. She was correct, Eileens' moans got louder and more abandoned and she suddenly suddered under claudine, who pushed her fingers into eileen, feeling her muscles writhe and ripple around her. Both girls were now crying and moaning, wet with each other, scented with each other.
Finally they slowed down and were still. They lay together, breathing softly, hands clasped, fingers rubbing against fingers. Silently, they helped each other find their shed clothing, and dressed each other, pausing to lick or nibble or rub or just touch.
Slowly they walked back towards the school, hands clasped in the moonlight.
They could hear the sounds from the pool. Instead of the splashing and laughing and good natured ragging that had occured before, they could hear the occasional cry and groan.
"they're not finished yet", said Eileen.
"This will mean that the dormitory, it will be empty, yes?" suggested claudine. Her finger touched eileen's cheek.
"We might wake the third formers," said Eileen, taking Claudine's finger in her mouth and sucking slightly.
"This would not be a tradgedy," agreed Claudine, and the two girls ran lightly towards the school, giggling softly.