Hazel and Enid 3: The Picnic

This is a F/F spanking discipline story, set in the mid 1920s, and is also written with an attempt the mimic the style, tone, and language of 1920s children’s fiction. It is the 3rd chapter in a series I’ve been very slowly updating but have very much enjoyed writing.

I had the idea for this particular story while walking along the cliffs on the southwest coast of the UK a couple weeks ago, while at a spanking party. I don’t think I’ve ever given these characters a specific location, but I have loosely imagined them to possibly live roughly in the southwest of England.

I must apologise for a cliffhanger at the end, but I am already working on the update for it! I hope you enjoy this story!

If you enjoyed this style, you may enjoy my previous two chapters about these characters:
A Little Tantrum
Four Shillings and Sixpence: A Christmas Story

If you’d like to read my other stories, please see my Stories Index. I also have an index for my True Stories.

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“I say!” declared Marjorie, as Enid packed teacups inside a milk-can. “Ought you not to put something in there to stop them rattling around? Surely they’ll all break to pieces if you carry them along like that, and I don’t suppose Hazel will be at all impressed!”

Enid laughed at this remark. “I couldn’t break them if I tried, I assure you,” she said. “They’re all enamel!”

Majorie, who had been hovering in the doorway, stepped fully into the kitchen for a closer inspection. “Indeed they are!” she exclaimed, taking one from Enid, and handing it back. “What a jolly good shout, having enamel teacups. And the milk-can’s a top-hole idea too!”

“It does do splendidly for a kettle,” Enid agreed. “An iron one is such a weight to carry when one can simply sling a milk-can on a stick.”

“I had one of those old tin kettles once,” Majorie recounted. “But the solder melted the moment I put it on the fire. The spout dropped right off!”

Both of them descended at once into helpless laughter at this recollection and the picture it conjured up.

“What’s so funny?” asked Hazel, who at that moment had appeared in the doorway. “No—don’t tell me. I expect some mischief I’d sooner not know about. Are you quite ready?”

“Yes—Almost,” said Enid. She looked at the picnic baskets, packed and ready on the table.

It had taken a great deal of planning for Hazel, Enid, and their friend Marjorie Hurst to all have the same free day on which to make this expedition for a cliff-top walk and picnic lunch, and it had been with much pleasurable anticipation that this day had finally arrived.

Now, on the morning of their excursion, the baskets were crammed full of all sorts of delicious food and treats. There were ham sandwiches, hard boiled eggs, a jar of pickled onions, and some strawberry jam pastries Enid had made just the day before, as well as a good deal of cheese, and some biscuits in case all of that was not enough.

Marjorie had baked and brought along a pound cake, which had not turned out quite how she had hoped, though Enid had assured her when she fretted that it was sure to taste just as good as anything, especially when eaten out-of-doors with the rest of their picnic.

And so, it was a jolly trio that set out across the cliff-tops that morning. It was a long walk, and each was carrying something, but there was a spring in each of their steps, and the fresh sea-air sharpened their appetites in anticipation of the delicious feast they carried along with them.

“It is a shame not to walk along the beach though,” Marjorie stated, as she looked out toward the distant sea.

The three had agreed on setting off, that as the tide was so far out and the sand was so deep and dry, that it would be much too hard going to walk along the sand, especially with the baskets full of provisions they bore with them.

“It will be a lighter walk home,” Enid offered. “Once we’ve eaten up our lunch. Perhaps we can walk back along the beach, and the water will be near enough to paddle in.”

“We shall have to keep an eye on the tide, then,” put in Hazel. “If we don’t set off home before it creeps too close, we’ll get caught between the water and the cliffs.

Presently, they came to the spot they had set out for, which was a sheltered place among some rocks, away from the cliff edge, and where a small surface spring allowed them to fill the milk-can.

It was well known to Hazel and Enid, and often visited when they had the time for it, and Enid felt as though she was sharing a special secret by showing it to Marjorie.

Indeed, Marjorie was delighted with its discovery, and all three were a little tired after their long walk, and glad to sit and rest and eat their lunch.

The milk-can was set on an arrangement of stones, around which they could rake the fire, and the tea had been brought in a muslin bag, which was dropped directly into the can.

The teacups were passed around, and Hazel managed to dispense the tea from the hot can.

“These pastries are delicious!” Marjorie declared, a little while later. “Please do give me the recipe, Enid!”

“I can’t take all the credit,” Enid said, flushing with pleasure at the compliment. “Hazel made the jam!”

“There are a frightful lot of ants crawling about, though,” Marjorie said then, critically inspecting her pastry. “I am afraid of them getting on my food, just before I put it in my mouth!”

“Oh, they don’t distress me,” stated Enid cheerfully. “It won’t do you drop of harm if you swallow one – ants are quite wholesome, I assure you.”

“Do you remember when Mary Sanders dared Dora Flemming to eat that worm?” Marjorie said. “It was a jolly mean dare. I wouldn’t have done it!”

“And poor Dora didn’t either,” Enid said, laughing at the memory. “Poor girl, though. She was teased for backing out, but she’d have never lived it down had she done it!”

“Oh, I don’t feel sorry for her one bit,” Marjorie declared. “She dropped you right in it with her Latin crib, and she was always finding one way or another to cheat. She didn’t mind sneaking on other girls, either. I do believe that’s why Mary told her to eat the worm!”

The pair fell to reminiscing about their school days, and Hazel was content to listen to it. As the oldest child of five, her parents could not afford to send her away to school, and much of her time had been taken up caring for her younger siblings.

She had been quick to her lessons though, and had completed all of her schooling in her own time. Then, there had been the Great War, during which she had worked as an ambulance driver.

Driving the ambulance wagon, she had seen the best and worst of men, and learned a great many things that cannot be learned through schooling, or indeed by any other means. Some of these things, Hazel cared very little to think about, or remember.

Sometimes, they came unbidden into her head, however, especially at quiet moments, and some of those memories came to her now.

“I say—Hazel,” Enid interrupted her thoughts. “You have that look about you, that you get when—”

Enid cut off there, and put down her teacup so she could go and put her arms around her lifelong companion.

Hazel had never confided too directly to Enid, about too many specific details of her experience of the war, but Enid was a smart girl, and she suspected a great deal.

“Thank you, darling girl,” Hazel said quietly.

She smiled, so that Enid and Marjorie would not catch her mood, and stood up from the rock on which she was sitting.

“I am feeling rather tired,” she said. “And you two have a great deal to catch up on. I will take my leave, and see you at home, Enid. Marjorie, it was tremendous to see you again, and I hope we can arrange another day soon.”

 It was agreed that Hazel would take the picnic baskets, which were a great deal lighter than when they had set out, leaving only the milk-can and teacups for Enid and Majorie to carry back.

“If you walk back along the beach, look to the marker-point,” Hazel said, as they went about their goodbyes. “If the tide is past that point, you must walk back along the cliffs.”

She referred to a distinctive spot along the cliffs that were further out towards the sea. This marker-point was well known to locals, and was used to measure if the tide was too close for them to safely walk along the sand. Once the in-coming tide reached that marker, it was no longer safe on the beach, as one risked being caught between the water and the cliffs, with no good way to climb up and escape.

“We’ll be careful,” Enid asserted.

Hazel’s soft brown eyes turned hard as she focused her gaze on Enid directly.

“It is not a matter of simply being careful,” she said, knowing Enid could be one to take chances with such things. “If the sea has reached the marker, you are not to step onto the beach, however carefully.”

“What if the sea has only just—,” Enid began, but Hazel cut her off before she could continue.

“If the marker is reached,” Hazel said sternly, “You are not to walk along the beach. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Hazel,” Enid said, very much sobered by the tone Hazel had taken with her. She leaned briefly into her companion to receive a hug, and a kiss on the forehead, and then Hazel was on her way back towards the cliff-top walk.

Marjorie was very quiet through this exchange. Some rumours had circulated among a few of their friends, about Hazel, and Enid, and punishments. It had followed something Enid had said carelessly, and then turned quite red.

Marjorie found it all quite thrilling, but also rather mortifying, and there never seemed a good time to ask Enid about it in any sort of sensible manner. Now certainly did not seem to be the time either.

“Another cup of tea?” Marjorie asked, wishing to break her chum out of the subdued state she was now exhibiting.

“Yes please,” Enid answered, visibly brightening. “And two lumps of sugar, if you please.”

The young women fell once again to reminiscing about their school days.

There was the tale of how Rhoda Green had received little cakes directly into the dormitory, by letting down a basket out the window on a string, into which a boy who admired her would place the cake, having snuck onto the school grounds.

Then there was Irene Taylor, who had sleep-walked and caused the entire fourth form to believe there was a ghost. Miss Duckworth, their form mistress, had had quite a fright when she’d come across her in the hall.

And there was the time Joan Evans had written notes in ink along the upper part of her leg, before an important examination.

“I do believe she thought she might absorb the information directly into her skin,” Majorie laughed. “I can’t see how they could have been any use to her, with no way to look at them during the examination!”

“Perhaps it was simply a comfort to her, knowing the information was there and so close,” Enid suggested. “She did score highly after all.”

“I say it was the act of writing it out in the first place, that caused her to remember it all,” Marjorie said. “She’d just as well have copied it all into an exercise book, rather than all smudged along her thighs. I say, take a look at that sky. I hope it doesn’t mean to rain or we shall get a nice wetting.”

“I don’t like the look of that sky myself,” Enid agreed. “We’d better pack up and be getting back, just in case.”

It was a quick affair to tip out the remaining tea in the milk-can and pack up the teacups, and the pair soon set off back the way they had come.

Presently, they came to a place where they could follow a steep path down towards the beach. The sea did not look too close on first inspection, but when Enid looked out, she could see it had clearly reached and recently passed the marker that Hazel had cautioned her to heed.

“Oh, rats,” she exclaimed, pointing out the spot to Marjorie.

“Are you quite sure it is quite reached?” Marjorie asked.

“I say it is very just slightly passed,” Enid said. “It’s a shame we shan’t get to dip our toes in the water today after all.”

“I don’t see why we shouldn’t still,” Marjorie remarked. “If it is safe when the sea is just before the marker, I don’t see why it shouldn’t be when it is only just past. Why, it can’t be a difference of more than a few minutes! If we walk briskly, it should be all the same as if we had set off that little bit earlier, at a more regular pace.”

“But don’t you think it’s rather risky?” ventured Enid. “And besides, Hazel said—”

“Come on, you goose!” Marjorie cut her off, calling back as she had already set off down the steep path. “If we’re to beat the tide after all, we’d better begin!”

After a moment’s hesitation, Enid hurried after her friend.

“Hurrah!” exclaimed Marjorie, as they finally reached the sand. “That was quite a scramble, I’d say! And it must have been uncommonly awkward with the milk-can too. You’re a sport for managing! Let’s take off our shoes and socks so we can walk along in the water.”

“I think we should hurry, though,” Enid said, feeling quite fretful now that the sea seemed so close, and the cliffs seemed so steep rising up behind her. She did not fancy scrambling back up the way she had come, though, and she knew the way back to the cliffs at the other end was more forgiving, so she made no particular effort to persuade her friend to turn back.

“Don’t distress yourself,” Marjorie said. “If you’re worried about Hazel, we need not mention it to her that we walked back this way. She is a sport, though, and I’m sure she would understand.”

“Yes,” Enid said, doubtfully.

But she took off her shoes and socks all the same, and walked along so that the waves could come up and lap over her ankles.

She tried to walk briskly and with purpose, but Marjorie enjoyed prancing about, forwards and back in the waves, and laughing in delight as she danced just out of reach.

“Oh, do come on,” Enid urged her.

Marjorie laughed, but then shrieked in surprised alarm as the next wave rushed in much further than she had been anticipating, swirling almost up to her knees, and drenching her skirts.

“Oh bother!” she said, splashing back towards Enid.

“Marjorie, look!” Enid exclaimed, pointing back the way they had come. A wave had rushed in much further up the beach than the women were now walking, and almost up to the cliffs.

“Well, we certainly can’t go back now,” Marjorie said, her expression looking as worried as Enid’s for the first time. “We’ve come too far and any chance of a retreat will soon be blocked. We’d best push on, and be quick about it.”

At first, the pair set off at a brisk walk, but before long, they found themselves jogging along the beach. Panic swelled up inside Enid, making her not care how heavy and awkward it felt to be running over sand with a milk-can filled with enamel teacups.

Suddenly, the way ahead of them was blocked by swirling water that did not seem to want to retreat again.

“We’ll have to go through it!” Enid exclaimed.

Marjorie was already ahead of her, dashing through the water to where there was still sand on the other side.

Enid followed at a run, but lost her footing in the loose feeling sand as the water rushed about her feet, and suddenly she fell sharply forwards with a hard splash.  

The salty seawater filled her mouth and nose, and she flailed, spluttering as she tried to right herself.

“Leave that!” Marjorie cried, grabbing her arm and dragging her up again as the milk-can was pulled along by the retreating wave.

The two women fled along the beach, dashing through yet more water that threatened to cut them off entirely, but luckily remained shallow enough for them to pass through.

When they finally reached the steps that would take them to safety, they collapsed there for a time, hugging each other in relief, and struggling to regain their breath.

Enid was soaked through, and Marjorie faired only slightly better, being entirely drenched below the waist.

“Enid, oh Enid!” Majorie cried, “I thought we would be swept out to sea, truly I did!”

Enid said nothing. In all that had happened, she had managed to lose her shoes and socks as well, and so, as it turned out, had Marjorie.

It would be a cold and difficult walk home, and to top it all, a drizzle of rain had begun to fall.

There was no discussion of it, but it seemed an unspoken agreement that Marjorie would accompany Enid home. Much sobered, the pair set out, shivering as they went.

Only once the front door of Hazel and Enid’s house came up in front of them did Enid finally speak.

“What will Hazel say?” she said.

And then, she burst into tears.

3 thoughts on “Hazel and Enid 3: The Picnic

  1. Oh dear, we could all see this coming, couldn’t we! ;D I wonder if all those schoolgirl antics you describe came strictly from your imagination, or from actual experience? I suspect the latter! *LOL* Looking forward to the next bit…..

    Liked by 1 person

    1. If you can believe it, I was never that naughty! I’ve mostly been inspired by things characters did in actual schoolgirl books I’ve read (sometimes from this era), The writing the notes on the leg is something someone I knew actually did at uni! The eating the worm dare was inspired by an episode of Tracy Beaker!

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