A Defining Afternoon
During all my years as Headmaster at Silverdene Patricia Jackson was without doubt the most difficult youngster we accepted. Although Patricia was a reasonably bright girl she had a somewhat unstable home life, a wild personality, was often undisciplined, regularly defiant and always very self-opinionated, particularly with staff. She arrived with us as a thirteen year old from a prestigious and very expensive girl’s boarding school in the north of England from where she had recently been expelled. This was the second time she had been expelled from a school in the last three years.
On both of these occasions her expulsion had been directly connected to a combination of her inability to do as she was asked and her unwillingness to accept that the school rules were there to be kept. At interview with us her parents explained that both of her expulsions had been the final act of the school after Patricia had considerable contact with the school cane as well as her housemistresses slipper. Nevertheless, her parents were hoping we would be persuaded to be sympathetic to their needs, give their daughter another chance and admit Pat starting as a third year in the Autumn Term.
Usefully, her parents were very open with us and spoke freely about Pat’s misdemeanours both at home and at school. Her mother was particularly frank with her comments, speaking at some length about her difficulties in tying to bring up Patricia and the disagreements about this between her and her husband. She explained that they had both found Patricia a difficult baby and infant. She added these difficulties, in her view at least, had been compounded as Patricia had been entirely spoilt by her father - anything Patricia asked for, her father would give her.
Recently, and partially as a result of her expulsions, serious problems had arisen between them as her mother wanted a completely different approach to managing Patricia’s behaviour compared with that proposed by her husband. These difficulties were also evident when we spoke to Mr Jackson, who despite sending Patricia to two schools which used corporal punishment, did not believe in physically punishing children. He said he did not use it on his daughter nor would he allow his wife to use it either. This was one of the things which they had argued about over the years. However, he told us despite his views, his wife, although not a great supporter of smacking children, had done this occasionally when she became totally exasperated by Patricia’s behaviour.
Mrs Jackson, while confirming that she also had certain reservations about physical punishment, indicated that despite her husband’s views on the subject she had smacked her daughter’s legs or her bottom on a number of occasions over the years. She remarked that this had been largely ineffective as Patricia had got older and further that she was increasingly prone to hit her back. Her husband, who was hearing about this for the first time in this interview, looked increasingly disapproving of what his wife was saying and I wondered what sort of conversation they might have about this as they returned home.
Patricia was invited for a subsequent interview with her parents, arriving very spruced up and dressed in the uniform of her previous school. Her neat and tidy clothing was accompanied by a large shock of curly black hair, seemingly barely under control. She wore a well developed impression of not caring if we accepted her, or not. There was defiance in her eyes and surliness about her lips that indicated she was unlikely to be any more malleable to our expectations than she had been to those of her previous schools. Naturally, Pat’s past disciplinary record could not be ignored and this formed an important part of her individual interview with the headmistress, myself and Mrs Hutton, her potential housemistress. We had considered Margaret Hutton, a widowed, middle-aged mother of two teenagers, to be the most experienced member of staff to look after Pat if we were to admit her.
Her answers at interview did not bode well. When in the interview with her parents, she was asked what she thought about coming to Silverdene, she responded with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm. Although it was obvious to Pat that her parents were not going to allow her to stay at home and go to the local state school, which is what we felt she wanted, she was clearly not prepared to enthuse about coming to Silverdene. When it was explained to her that, like any other pupil at the school, she would be subject to school discipline and that punishments included the use of the slipper and the cane when it was felt to be necessary, she remained unmoved. Subsequently, she was asked if she understood what she was being told. She said she understood, but the air of indifference which accompanied her answers was given in very negative tones. I was left with the distinct impression that she was telling us that she was totally unwilling to fit into our community or comply with its rules and regulations. Indeed, Patricia demonstrated she was reluctant to accept we might have any control over her at all. Her lack of eye contact and artificially created furrowed eyebrows which accompanied many of her answers which she used to underline her feelings only made her appear more ridiculous.
When questioned further about her experiences of school punishment, it also became clear that Pat’s history in this area was not set just around her secondary school experiences. She admitted, under some pressure is has to be said, that she had also been spanked in primary school on a number of occasions. She also told us that she had been put across the headmaster’s knee and spanked at least three times for being disobedient while she was there. The last time this had happened she said was just before she had left the school and he had hurt her so much that time it had made her cry. She also added that her parents knew nothing about any of this.
She responded to another question by telling us that she had not want to go to a boarding school anyway and her time there had been awful. She explained that she also had felt homesick all the time and her negative feelings about boarding school life had been compounded by both school’s punishment regime. She explained that at her first school, they liberally used corporal punishment. She had been soundly spanked by her housemistress during her first week there; a prefect had also slippered her twice before the first half term break and that she had also been slippered three times by her form mistress during this time. As a result of this aggregation of misbehaviours, Patricia had finally been sent to the headmistress who had caned her for her constant misbehaviour before sending her home for the half-term break.
As a result, she said she had run away shortly after her return next term, when she had been threatened by another visit to the headmistress for a caning because she had sworn at a teacher. The police had been called in to find her, once the school had reported her missing, and this had led to a further caning by the headmistress with her knickers removed, before, finally, her parents had been called to collect her from the premises.
She reported that her experiences in her second boarding school were not dissimilar. Again the school had an aggressive policy of using corporal punishment and Patricia told us of a number of smacked bottoms, slipperings and canings she had received from her housemistress during the time she was there. Again, Patricia had run away after one particularly severe slippering. As in her previous school, the police had been called and then they had found her she had been awarded an eight stroke caning from the headmistress. This was after her headmistress had sent for her parents to collect her.
On the other hand Patricia had no difficult in passing the entrance examination; where her results indicated she excelled in mathematics and logical reasoning. So here we were, being asked to take on a pupil with a particularly difficult disciplinary record but yet who clearly was not unintelligent. Although we acknowledged her overt surliness and an unwillingness to co-operate, we came to the conclusion that Pat was desperate to find somewhere where she had some personal security and certainty, where there was a consistency of approach towards her and where she could feel she was wanted. Even though throughout her interviews Patricia had tried hard to display an air of indifference she also gave us the impression that her case was not entirely hopeless.
Nevertheless, after the interviews I remained sceptical that Silverdene was the best place for Patricia. As a consequence, we suggested to her parents that we would be willing to accept their daughter under certain conditions which were set around monitoring Pat’s behaviour on a weekly basis, with regular monthly reports back to them. We also made it clear to both the parents, and particularly to Patricia, that the school retained the right to use corporal punishment. This would be the case for Patricia, as it was for every other pupil, and that she wouldn’t be treated any differently.
We also told her parents that their daughter’s discipline would be looked after by only one member of staff to whom she would report every Friday at the end of afternoon school. Patricia was also informed in front of her parents that I would be the responsible person and that I would expect to see her every Friday at 4:30 outside my office. She would be given two different discipline record cards; one would be compiled by her teachers in lessons, while the other would be completed weekly by her housemistress. These cards, which were in fact little used and indeed little needed, had space for both written comments and an overall grade ranging from A [the best] to F.
Pat and her parents were also informed that the school rule was that anyone reporting with and F grade could expect to receive a sound slippering for the first offence, while further misdemeanours would result in an automatic caning. I added that in my time in the school we had never got as far as a slippering with any girl let alone using the cane. I said I hoped we would not need to break new ground with Patricia but my interview with her made me less than confident that we would need to do so. Both of these disciplinary records, she was told, would form the entire basis of what happened after that. I also stated that if she did not behave appropriately within the school I ‘took no prisoners’ and she could expect a very sore backside as a result. The family was also told these arrangements were not negotiable and that it was a ‘take it or leave it’ offer.
To my surprise both Patricia and her parents agreed to these demands. Patricia even looked mildly pleased and readily nodded when she was asked if she understood and agreed with the arrangements. She also agreed that she would do her best in school and to keep out of trouble. Maybe it was nervousness, or even a wince at the potential damage I might inflict on her bottom, but she actually seemed to smile when the offer to accept her was made!
We had a little difficulty working out which stream to put Patricia in. Certainly, she was clever enough to be placed in the top stream of her year group but we were concerned about the effect her behaviour and attitude and her dominant, strident voice might have on the rest of the class. On the other hand, to place her in 3B among a group of girls we knew varied from being robust and taking much nonsense from anyone, to some who were immature and more timid, might be even more challenging for everyone concerned.
We solved this dilemma by placing her with a small group of girls who switched between the two streams according to their ability in a particular subject. Thus Patricia would be in the top set in Maths and science subjects, with girls who were as academically able as her, and in the other set in subjects where she appeared to have less aptitude. The Headmistress agreed that her housemistress and I should regularly monitor the situation. After all, the novelty factor of a new school with its new systems and different staff as well as the need to develop and test new relationships can sometimes intimidate a naughty child for a period of time, which we hoped might be a factor in giving Pat time to settle in. As we had planned, Patricia was placed with Mrs Hutton in Lyttleton House; a housemistress who we knew was more than fair even in difficult situations. We knew she would give Patricia every chance to settle in and succeed.
As it turned out Pat had a long ‘honeymoon’ period lasting well into the Summer Term before there was any sign of her ‘finding her feet’. For much of this time Patricia’s discipline card was often exemplary, and until immediately after the Easter holiday gave little or no sign of negative comments. Until early May these grades had been mainly Bs and Cs, with the odd A thrown in. There was nothing reported to me that on the one hand suggested that anything was seriously amiss with Patricia, while on the other it was clear that we should be considering when we might dispense with these cards altogether. I had also regularly rewarded Patricia with small tokens for her sound behaviour, and had regularly phoned her mother with positive comments about her work and behaviour. To all intents and purposes, everyone was increasingly positive about Patricia.
However, the first week after the Easter holiday when the cards were handed in, the school card awarded Patricia an F grade, while the house assessment had given her only a D grade. Both Patricia’s form mistress and her housemistress had sent lengthy accompanying notes both of which told a similar tale of misbehaviour, consistent disobedience and a lack of respect for discipline during this particular week. Incidents included loosing her temper with other girls in class; throwing her belongings on the classroom floor; swearing at staff on two separate occasions in the house, and incidents of fighting both during school time and in her boarding house. She had also been given lines three times during the week and placed in school detention twice, as well as being given time out in the boarding house.
It was clear that something had gone seriously wrong, and rather than waiting for her to arrive after school had finished, I sent for Patricia during Friday afternoon registration; telling her to report to the administration office. Pat arrived outside my door with Mrs Sheppard my secretary, looking remarkably contrite, a little worried and perhaps even a little upset. I was not sure, even after the few months I had known her, if this was for real or merely a pose. However, she knew exactly why she was there, as well as what was likely to happen to her in the next few minutes. No doubt the school ‘jungle drums’ had already informed her of the routine for girls who were sent to be caned or slippered, as she did not comment when I told her to put her hands above her head and stand to attention. Neither did she object when, having done this, Mrs Sheppard, taking a safety pin from her pocket pinned up her skirt above the level of her knickers, and said to me, “That is what you will want, I think.” Patricia was then told to wait in this position until I was ready to call her into my office.
After some twenty minutes, when afternoon school had already started and she had had the chance to be seen standing in that fashion by some members of the school, I invited Patricia into my office, telling her to continue to keep her hands on her head and stand to attention facing me at the other side of my desk. At this, I sat and looked her up and down. Although she was relatively tall for her age, she still wore a shock of dishevelled hair. She also had a thin, pale face with a sort, stubby nose, long, thin yet underdeveloped legs and, for a girl of fourteen, a podgy little girl’s bottom. Today her eyes gave an even more clear impression of her aggression and unhappiness. Her whole body language, especially her mouth, displayed the surliness that I had first seen at her interview almost a year before.
As I looked at Patricia I sighed with frustration. I was genuinely disappointed in what I had read in her weekly reports. I really thought we had made progress, so I decided the best course was to express my frustrations to her. “I am so disappointed to read these cards Patricia,” I started. “I am not only surprised by what I have read but also very disappointed. I thought we were well passed this sort of behaviour. What I read here has upset me greatly. I wish what I have read was entirely different. You obviously know why you are her and what must happen as a consequence.” I added.
At this, Pat nodded and mumbled “Yes sir,” and to my complete surprise, tears came into the corners of her eyes. However, when she attempted to brush her tears away with her hand, removing one of them from above her head to do so, I immediately cut to stop her.
“Stop and put both hands back above your head again, right now,” I said firmly. She did so and not only did her tears grow in volume but also they started to run down her pale, sallow cheeks.
“I am really, really sorry, sir,” she said. “I know what I have done is really shocking and that I have let you down. I am sorry sir, please don’t expel me. I do want to stay here, honest sir! Please! Please sir, just punish me but don’t send me away” she wailed, as she stood in front of me wriggling her body and wringing her hands now clasped tightly together in her hair. “Please, please sir!” she repeated as she wriggled even more extensively, now hopping from one foot to another.
“Yes Pat, I am sorry too; really very sorry that we are now in this situation, I continued. ”You know what must happen now I think. It was clearly set out for you at your interview do you remember? I…”
At this point I was interrupted as Patricia’s crying reached a crescendo and taking her hands off her head she gripping tightly into her bottom. “Please sir,” she wailed before I could say anything more, “I’ve weed myself. Oh sir, I’m sorry sir,” she continued, as tears rolled with an increasing frequency down her cheeks. “Sir sorry, I am going to wet myself. I can’t stop! Oh sorry sir! Please forgive me” she added continuing to hop up and down in front of me.
I was somewhat mystified at what was happening but at this point Patricia took her hands away from her bottom and replaced them on her head, and opened her legs slightly as a stream of urine came through her knickers went down her left leg and tinkled quietly onto my parquet flooring around her shoes. Very quickly this small initial trickle increased to a torrent. Patricia has stopped wriggling now and with her legs wide open she pissed herself until there was a large puddle on the floor.
I knew there was no way that I was going to stop what was happening, so the only thing I could do was to wait until she had stopped. Although from the experience of other staff in the school I had heard that some girls wet their pants when they were about to be caned or slippered, this was a relatively new experience to me and even Amanda Brown had only slightly wet herself. Even though I had two teenage daughters at home, I was not used to adolescent girls wetting their knickers. I was also surprised just how long it seemed to take Patricia to empty her bladder. She just stood there and I continued to watch her as her urine flowed on to the floor. Soon there was piss everywhere round her feet, on her shoes, and evidence of it down her socks and on the exposed skin of her thighs and legs. There was a large and a very wet patch on both the front and particularly the back of her knickers; resulting in their cotton material clinging to her skin and leaving little to my imagination about what they were supposed to secrete away.
Eventually, when Patricia stopped weeing herself, she looked at me and I felt I could discern a look of achievement on her face which I had rarely seen anywhere before. “You should be ashamed of yourself,” I said. What do you think you are doing wetting my floor like this? How dare you? You are fourteen years old for God’s sake. Keep your hands back on top of your head. Go and stand to attention and face the wall.” I commanded. Immediately, Pat did as she was told. Silently, she picked her way across the wet floor around her and, shivering as if she was very cold, went to stand facing the wall where I had told her.
With some degree of curiosity I watched her as she stood there. The back of her knickers were now two tone, with a distinctly darker patch where they had got wringing wet clinging to her skin to about half way up her buttocks, with the cotton material sticking indiscriminately to her skin and highlighting some parts of her buttocks and not others. The sight of her made me certain I was definitely not going to smack her bottom at any stage that afternoon! It would definitely be the junior cane that I had already placed on my desk that I would impact.
As I continued to stand and inspect the mess that was all around me it became clear that everything was still not well with Patricia. Although she was making no sound, Patricia was visibly straining her buttocks slightly. As I watched her with an increased curiosity there was a developing exertion discernable in the wetter part of her knickers. To my amazement a colour of a different hue slowly spread across the gusset of her knickers, directly between her legs. As I watched this area not only increased in size but seemingly also in volume; developing from a small knot sized impression to a much larger swelling that was increasingly obvious as she stood there.
Even though I knew instinctively exactly what had happened I shouted, “For Christ’s sake what have you done?” However, realising I needed to be quick thinking in order to regain my control of the situation, before Patricia could answer, I had picked up the phone and rang Matron’s office. Fortunately the senior matron, Miss Carr, was in her office and after a brief explanation of what had happened and why I needed her to come over she arrived at my office carrying a mop, a bucket and a bag, the contents of which were not visible.
Mary Carr, who was close to retirement, was from the old fashioned school of matrons who took their position very seriously. She could be compassionate when needed and dragon fierce when necessary. She had spent over thirty years dispensing wisdom and justice to ‘her girls’ as she called them. Many a girl had gone to Mary Carr for comfort or solace when they were sad, lonely, lovelorn or simply scared of being away from home for the first time. She looked at both the wet wooden floor by my desk and the state that Patricia was in, turned to me and said “If you would like to leave this to me I will deal with it. Perhaps you would care to come back to see Patricia when everything is back to normal - in about an hour I would say. I am sure you will then be pleased to inspect her and this room. By that time” she added, “Patricia will be waiting for you outside your office with both herself and the floor of your office cleaned up. Of course she will have had a bath and be in different clothes by then too. I imagine you will want her waiting for you in the traditional posture, with her hands on her head outside your door?”
“Yes Matron,” I responded, “that will be fine. I will look forward to seeing the results of your efforts.” As I left my office I heard matron telling Patricia how foolish she had been and that this room would be in pristine condition for my return. As I firmly closed my office door I heard her say “It will certainly be in better condition than your rump is going to be when the headmaster has finished with you.”
I gave Matron and hour and a quarter before I went back to my office. On returning through the admin office Mrs Sheppard, informed me that matron had been ‘very busy’ in my absence and that Patricia Jackson was waiting for me with her hands on her head outside the door.
“Matron certainly made her work hard,” she added with a tinkle of laughter. “I will be here when you need me.” She added, knowing exactly what her role in the next part of this scenario was going to be.
I grimaced, thanked her and walked down the small corridor which separated her office from mine.
Sure enough, when I got outside my room, Patricia Jackson was standing there alone and with no sign of Matron. Patricia was standing so ramrod straight and so erect she seemed to have grown six inches! She was also doing her best to conceal herself as she was wearing only the top half of her PE kit. Her bottom, now clean and trim, was totally naked for anyone who came down to my office to see. And what a view they would have got too! Both of her buttocks were now bright crimson colour. There were also obvious several marks on her flesh where a hand [Matron’s hand] had come into heavy contact with her skin. Although she must have been embarrassed by how she was displaying herself, clearly any sort of covering for her buttocks would have also caused her considerable discomfort. Patricia Jackson’s arse looked as if had she had received already received a proverbial ‘good hiding’. Both the redness of her eyes and her tear stained cheeks made it clear that not only had she recently cried a great deal but also that it was not long since she had stopped.
In the light of her reaction to corporal punishment in her previous schools I was surprised that Patricia was still there waiting for me; although getting away in such circumstances as well as the pain in doing so may have accounted for this.
“Come with me,” I said as I took her left elbow and gently propelled her back into my room. Having placed her in the middle of the room with both hands again on her head I inspected the state of my study. The puddle of urine had been cleaned up and the smell had been largely dispersed by opening a window. At this I sat down in my armchair.
I looked round the room again and then said to Patricia, “I see you have cleaned up the room and that Matron has attended to you. It looks as though both you and her have done a good job.”
For the first time that afternoon, Patricia Jackson’s eyes held a steady gaze with my own. All she said was “Yes sir,” but in the circumstances that was all she needed to say.
I continued. “I still have to deal with your behaviour throughout the rest of the week. That is why, rather than waiting until after school, I sent for you at lunchtime, although it seems a long time ago now. You must also remember that I know that your behaviour in this office was contrived and deliberate. We both know you could have prevented what happened and that such behaviour will not be tolerated here. You must also know that I sent for Matron to deal with all of this because I felt she would be the best person to do so. And by God, what she has done to your bottom only shows how right I was.”
Again, Patricia looked at me straight in the eye but this time she merely nodded.
“OK Miss Jackson,” I continued, leaving the informalities behind me, “You can now have a choice. If you wish to remain here with us at Silverdene School as you said earlier, you will have to accept the punishment I am about to award you. If, however, you wish to leave us, I will not punish you at all. I will expel you from school and ask your mother and father to collect you as soon as is convenient. Of course, I will not allow you back into school. If you choose to be expelled we will send your belongings home in due course. These are your choices. Do you understand?”
Without any hesitation Patricia responded clearly. “Yes sir. I understand.”
“Do you want some time to make your choice?”
“No sir,” she answered, just as quickly as before. “I will take the punishment, whatever it is. As I said before, I like it here and I want to stay. Please punish me, sir, so that I can stay.” She continued, “I realise you will have to cane me, sir but I don’t want to leave, so I will accept the caning. I really want to be a good girl from now on. I am sorry I was so bad this week, sir, and in here just now.” She added. "I know I have done wrong and that I deserve to be punished severely by you and by matron."
“Yes,” I asked, "that reminds me, what did happen to your behaviour this last week?”
Again looking straight at me she replied. “It was to do with home, sir, and the holidays. Last week my parents had another major row, sir. It was all so horrible. They shouted and threw things at each other. Eventually my mum got so cross that she hit my dad and he in turn tried to strangle her. I saw all this, sir, and tried to stop them, sir. They are now living separately, with my mum living at home and my dad in a hotel. They say they are going to get a divorce, sir. It’s all too….”
At this Patricia’s face crumpled as she gasped harder and harder to catch her breath. Although no tears came I felt it was not for any reason except there were none left to come from her little body. Oddly enough though, her hands continued to remain tightly on to her head.
I waited for some minutes until the paroxysms in her body had settled. As she became calmer, the convulsions lessened and were reduced to a series of decreasingly smaller shivers as she regained some degree of self-control.
Eventually she calmed down enough to speak coherently again and for what seemed the millionth time she said, again looking me in the eye, “Sir, I’m sorry, sir. It has been too much for me, sir, but I know I have been so evil this last week. It has all been so self-destructive too, sir. I know I was wrong to do what I did in here before, sir and I’m sorry. It was deliberate, sir. I wanted to be so disgusting and shock you so much that you didn’t know what to do, sir. I thought you would be like all the others and think I was unmanageable and get rid of me. Although I know I didn’t really want that, sir, I couldn’t stop doing it, sir. I know I deserved the smacking I got from matron, sir, for what I did. I also know that you have to cane me, sir, and that I deserve that too, sir." At this she stopped as if she had run out of words and continued looking directly at me.
After short pause to collect my thoughts, I asked her the same question again. “Are you certain you want to receive the punishment I will award you?”
She nodded.
“You do realise,” I added, "that I will be conducting this punishment immediately, now, today?”
She nodded yet again and repeated herself. “Yes sir. I am ready, sir. I will take whatever punishment you give me, sir, and I promise I won’t run away.”
It was now my turn to look her fully in the eye. I said, “Normally I would give you the maximum number of strokes of the cane that I am permitted across your bottom with one piece of clothing on. However, on this occasion we both know you have not got your knickers here, so you will have to receive these strokes on your bare bottom. As a result, firstly, I will award you three strokes of the cane, which you will receive now. Secondly, because you are to receive these strokes on the bare they will be observed by a female witness. Thirdly, because I am not sure you will be able to take these strokes unaided, this witness will secure you across her lap until the punishment is over. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.” she replied.
“Repeat what I have said.” I demanded. When she had repeated this, I picked up the phone again and dialled for Mrs Sheppard to come into my room. She knew why she had been called and was prepared to play her part. However, as her role varied according to the particular circumstances I would need to explain to both her and Patricia what was going to happen next.
So I explained to Sylvia Sheppard that as Patricia had no knickers on, that not only would I need her to be a witness to the punishment but also as Pat had been punished by matron already that afternoon, I had decided that she would need to be held down securely over her knee in order to make sure Patricia received the cane properly.
At this, Mrs Sheppard nodded her head to indicate her understanding, and sat down in my armchair, with her legs as far apart as the chair arms would allow. Patricia just looked glum and mentally was clearly preparing herself for the caning. With little hesitation I then instructed Patricia to place herself right across Mrs Sheppard’s lap.
This Patricia did without further question or comment but nevertheless with some difficulty; spreading herself gingerly over my secretary’s waiting skirt. Mrs Sheppard, who I knew was not a novice in this either as a receiver or giver of punishment, altered both her own and Patricia’s position until she was comfortable. As a result of this manoeuvring Mrs Sheppard had both of Pat’s legs trapped between her own and both of her hands were also placed firmly round Patricia’s shoulders to control any movement of her upper body and arms. Patricia now looked as if she was the loosing partner in a wrestling match. Her longs thin legs were also squeezed tightly together to ensure her modesty, making her position so tight there was now seemingly little chance of her being able to move at all.
As I got into position to the side of the settee in order to flex the cane effectively, I also noticed Mrs Sheppard had got Patricia’s bottom placed so that was slightly above her lap with it raised slightly, ensuring there was a good deal of flesh available to me to land my cane on. 'You crafty devil' I thought, you certainly do know what you are doing! She no doubt meant the punishment to hurt as much as possible.
“Now, Patricia,” Mrs Sheppard said, quite unrelated to anything that had occurred before, “You will be a good girl and not wriggle about on my knee. However much your botty hurts I will not let you wriggle about at all. Do you understand?”
“Yes, miss.” Patricia replied.
The crimsonness of Patricia Jackson’s bottom, although now not quite so obvious as when she was standing outside the door, was being superseded by an increased proportion that was now darker shading. I knew even if I was as gentle as possible with her, the soft skin of Patricia’s buttocks would more than likely be cut by my cane. Patricia was going to have to be a very brave girl indeed.
I brought my first stoke down across the middle of Patricia Jackson’s bottom, across both of her buttocks to hurt rather than sting her. She tried to buck to manage her pain as she screamed out loud but Mrs Sheppard, as she had said earlier, allowed her no movement at all and easily hung on to her. The effect of the stroke on Patricia’s bottom was immediate as a long red double tramline appeared right across both of her buttocks. “Good, I thought. That’s what I’m after!”
Having given her a few seconds to compose herself again, I brought down the second stroke. Although this stroke was slightly lighter in touch it partially covered the first, causing Patricia more agony than the first. Again, a scream even louder than the last one, rent the air in my study. Mrs Sheppard did her job and Patricia was unable to move to quell the pain. As a result of this stroke, a further red line appeared across the girl’s buttocks drawing blood on the left one as it crossed the first stroke she had received. As before, I admired my handiwork before continuing.
At this point I thought it was time for something different, something that would be my retribution for her anarchistic activities earlier that afternoon. This last stroke, I decided, was for her pissing and shitting herself so blatantly in front of me. As a result, I brought this stroke down as hard and as quick as I could across the top of both of Patricia’s thighs just where the upper parts of her legs reached her bottom. This was excruciating for her as she was still unable to move at all. With Mrs Sheppard holding on tight Patricia screamed over and over again until the worst of the pain left her. This final stroke left a heavy red weald across the tops of her thighs, which I knew would make it difficult for her to sit down for some time. That also pleased me as I wanted her to remember how awful she had been.
Patricia’s pain from the caning, as well as the smacked bottom she had received earlier, was now intense and as I indicated to Mrs Sheppard to let her grip go, the youngster could only slump on her knees to the floor flailing her arms and legs about wildly. She continued to thrash about on the floor, initially screaming and shouting.”Oh my bum! What have you done to my bum?” and “Jesus! Jesus! Jesus! That hurt!” Patricia also continued to cry without any sign of real tears.
This scenario continued for some time as Patricia rolled on the floor trying to control her pain. Clearly feeling sorry for Patricia Mrs Sheppard instinctively reached out to hold Pat again in an attempt to help her calm down and regain some self-control.
Eventually, after some five to ten minutes, the thrashing stopped and the shouting diminished to whimpers, Patricia then asked Mrs Sheppard to cuddle and kiss her to make it all better. A doubtful Sylvia Sheppard, having looked at me for direction, seemed only too happy to comply with the request and held Patricia close, as if she was one of her own children. This seemed to help Pat enormously and in return she clung on to Mrs Sheppard and swamped her neck with big wet kisses as if she was a small child and Mrs Sheppard really was her mother. Although Mrs Sheppard continued to indicate her amazement to me about what was happening she was not the least bit embarrassed by this turn of events. I motioned a couple of times for her to carry on and to use her intuition to do what she felt her instincts told her. Nevertheless, even with all this emotional support it took Patricia over half an hour to regain any real sense of coherence and control, and to have quietened down sufficiently to look as if she was recovering some of her composure. I knew that, similarl to Matron, I had not spared her much in the caning and that she had received a proverbial ‘real good hiding’ twice that afternoon.
Mrs Sheppard also knew Pat had been severely punished twice, and asked her if she felt she would feel better if she cold rub her bottom with a soothing cream. Patricia’s reaction was to beg her for some cream. The resourceful Sylvia Sheppard went back to her office and returned almost immediately with the largest jar of cream I have ever seen.
“Here child,” she said, “use this, it may help a little.”
It was not long before Patricia was rubbing cream liberally, if gently, into the red raw skin that now composed her bottom. To what extent rubbing in this cream made Pat better, or merely feel better, is questionable, but the cream certainly shone brightly on her damaged skin, highlighted the excesses of both Matron’s hand and my cane, with the combination of red lines and purple and blue blotches becoming increasingly obvious.
Having given her the jar of cream, Mrs Sheppard her job now done, returned to her office leaving Patricia and I alone together. With little further delay I phoned matron and asked her to return to my study with some clothing for Patricia, so that she could leave my room with at least a modicum of decorum. Again Miss Carr was with us very quickly and soon Patricia was dressed, somewhat uncomfortably, it has to be said, in an outsize skirt that clearly was painful both for her to put on and to wear.
By now Patricia had missed the whole of the afternoon’s lessons, a double maths lesson and double games. Before she left me I also told her although she could have some time to compose herself she must return to my office at 4:30 with whatever maths work she had missed. She could, I said, catch up the work with me in a private detention.
By the time she returned I had spoken to Mrs Jackson on the phone. Naturally, she was very upset about both the trouble her daughter had been in during the week and also her behaviour in my study. She also said that Patricia had used this tactic before; both wetting and defecating when she had been in trouble at home. Mrs Jackson was also very sympathetic to myself in having to deal with what had happened and she said she fully supported the double punishment Pat had been given.
“I know I would have liked to have done the same myself.” She stated, adding, “But I know I would have had neither the physical strength nor the moral courage to carry it through. Anyway,” she continued, “if I had done so, Pat would have only complained to her dad and we would have had one more row about her. I do suspect,” she considered, “If we had agreed to do more of that sort of thing when Pat was younger, our difficulties would have been much smaller. We only have ourselves to blame, I suppose.” she said wistfully.
Mrs Jackson also told me how much Pat had said she was enjoying being at Silverdene, and that she had been looking forward to the beginning of term to return to school. During the holiday Pat had told her she felt at Silverdene people understood her and that she was being treated ‘properly' compared with where she had been sent before. Although neither of us knew exactly what she meant by ‘properly’ I now realised the importance of the word ‘sent’ in what she had said and the extent to which she felt that she was unwanted at home. I resolved at an appropriate time to discuss this feeling with Pat herself.
Mrs Jackson also confirmed there had been ‘a big row at home’, as she put it, during the last week of the holiday and that not only had Pat witnessed this but had also been involved trying to stop her and her husband fighting each other. She also confirmed that she and her husband were now separated and seeking a divorce. It was, she felt, highly probable that the traumatic week that Pat had just been through was probably directly connection with what had happened at home over Easter. Mrs Jackson also said she was more than a little surprised her daughter had accepted the punishment so willingly, and also that she had seen it through. Her previous history, she reminded me, was one of running away and warned me that perhaps I should be prepared for her not to return for her detention.
However, Pat did return at the appointed time with work from her maths lesson, which having completed silently standing at my desk, she returned to her boarding house. Her inability to sit down at all over the weekend, and particularly the large red wealds across her buttocks when she got ready for bed, gave her punishment away to those girls who shared her dorm. When she told the girls what had happened, those who knew Pat well and had seen her antics during the previous week, were neither surprised nor too sympathetic about her caning or the state of her bottom. For these pupils, Pat was a stupid girl who had disrupted their lessons and had been both arrogant and dismissive of them. In their minds she had got what she deserved.
Where there was considerably more sympathy was when she explained that matron had also been involved and had also soundly smacked her bottom before I had caned it. Those girls who had also been similarly punished by matron were then considerably more sympathetic towards Patricia’s plight. The sight of her blacked buttocks, which she was freely prepared to show all and sundry, also created some sympathy among the squeamish, and those girls who would never be anywhere near being punished this way. It was these girls who were also more prepared to rub cream on her bottom, and deliver equally soothing words try to ease her wounds over the next ten days or so. I understand it was over three weeks before all of her bruising had disappeared and that both the girls and boys in her class, as well as the girls in her dormitory, were still inspecting the damage I had perpetrated when they went swimming after the half term holiday. The incident, I understand, at least on Saint’s Days and Sunday’s, became to known as ‘The Battle of Jackson’s Arse’.
Through all of this Patricia continued to report to me once a week for a discipline debrief until the end of that term. The rest of the term was comparatively straightforward and without incident, allowing us to suspend our weekly meetings in late July. I am pleased to say Pat spent the rest of her school career with us and from a disciplinary perspective she and I never met again. However, I know her disciplinary record continued to be far from perfect. There was the odd minor scrape with her mouthiness, but nothing too serious for about a year; certainly nothing serious enough to involve myself or her housemistress. However, in her fourth year Pat Jackson became an inveterate smoker and one who could never get away with it. She was caught smoking regularly and suffered with all its consequences. As a result, in her last eighteen months with us she was slippered three times by Mrs Hutton. I gather she said to Mrs Hutton at the house leaver’s do that ‘the slipperings were worth it for a fag’. I’m not sure of Mrs Hutton’s response because after all she smoked forty a day herself!
Nevertheless, Pat can be counted as one of our successes. When she left us, she got a job in a bank near her home. Now she is the parent of three of our best behaved pupils, a very active and supportive parent and a senior social worker responsible for disaffected children. Bearing in mind the notion of ‘setting a thief to catch a thief’ in my mind this would seem to be the ideal job for her!
