The maths lesson was slowly coming to an end. Not too soon for Chloe who was totally confused and bored with the lengthy description of Pythagoras's Theorem. Pythagoras was a square, Chloe decided. She was 12 years old and had been at St. Margaret's School for girls for just over a year. A pleasant petite girl, she lived with loving, if strict, parents and a younger sister.
The maths lesson was slowly coming to an end. Not too soon for Chloe who was totally confused and bored with the lengthy description of Pythagoras's Theorem. Pythagoras was a square, Chloe decided. She was 12 years old and had been at St. Margaret's School for girls for just over a year. A pleasant petite girl, she lived with loving, if strict, parents and a younger sister.
St. Margaret's imposed firm discipline on its pupils and Chloe had not entirely been able to escape her share of lines and detentions for slight misdemeanours. At the start of each term the pupils were reminded of the demerit system which also operated. Teachers were
liable to award a demerit for things not warranting a detention ... such as brief inattention in class or a uniform button undone ... unknown to the pupil herself. When 20 demerits had been earned a visit to the headmistress ensued. Chloe was not too concerned about the demerits. She prided herself on her turnout and worked hard in class. Anyway, term would be over in ten days time.
Chloe's mind turned to the imminent 10 minute break which was about to follow the lesson. She wanted to make arrangements with her friend, Louise, to meet that evening. She had started to gather her books together when the classroom door opened and the school secretary walked in and handed a note to the teacher. The teacher read the note, then called out the names of two girls. It was a moment before Chloe registered that one of the names was hers. There followed an instruction to report to the Headmistress's study at 4 p.m. when classes ended for the day. The class was then dismissed, but Chloe sat
for a moment, stunned by the summons, not being able to understand why. She hadn't done anything so bad that it warranted the ultimate sanction. She shrugged. Must be something else, she thought. But what?
Louise was no help in solving the riddle, merely telling her not to worry and then changing the subject to their plans for the evening. The afternoon dragged on slowly, then suddenly the bell went, there was a scraping of chairs and a swell of chatter as the school day ended. Chloe was stuffing her books into her satchel, when she remembered. She
hurried to the cloakroom and tidied herself, checking her white socks were pulled up and straight and that her tie was pulled up neatly. She felt anxiety gnawing away in the pit of her stomach.
The Headmistress's study was guarded by her secretary who had a reception office through which everyone had to pass before gaining access to the Head. Chloe entered and saw three other girls of various ages standing silently against the wall at the side of a door bearing the word 'Headmistress'. They all looked unhappy. Chloe approached the secretary and said she had been told to report. The secretary looked down a list of names on a paper, paused and murmured, 'Chloe Carter .. demerits'. Then she looked up and told Chloe to go and wait next to the others.
The second hand on the clock on the wall ticked round relentlessly. Another girl hurried in and spoke to the secretary before coming to stand next to Chloe. The waiting girls became restless as the tension increased. Then, at 4.26 a buzzer shrilled loudly making the girls jump and look at each other. Chloe noticed that the faces of two of the girls rapidly turned white and they started trembling. The secretary stood and went through the Head's door. The girls could hear voices, then the secretary re-appeared and instructed them to file in. She waited until they were all inside, told them to stand in a line, backs to the wall facing the desk, then shut the door behind them.
The Headmistress, Miss Carruthers studied the notes on her desk then looked up, her stare sweeping along the line. "Stand up straight .. don't slouch!" she ordered.
The girls obeyed simultaneously.
Miss Carruthers directed her gaze at the first girl in the line. "Why are you here, Simpson?"
Simpson stuttered, "I - I forgot to do my homework Miss."
"FORGOT?" came the response, "This is the third time this term, Simpson. Have you any explanation for these attacks of amnesia which recur?"
Simpson hung her head and replied quietly, "No, Miss".
"We will have to try to find a cure which will help you to remember in future, Simpson".
Miss Carruthers worked her way slowly down the line. 'Repeatedly talking in class', 'Smoking in the toilets', 'Using bad language.' Then came Chloe's turn. She did not know why she had been sent and admitted it. Miss Carruthers looked at her list. '20 demerits, Carter!'
Chloe was shocked. No way could she have accumulated 20, could she? She found enough courage to stammeringly enquire if there could have been a mistake as she had tried very hard to be good. Miss Carruthers turned to a thick loose-leaf register. 'looking out of the window in class ... one ..two ... five times, Carter. What can be more interesting outside
than your acquisition of knowledge within? ... Doodling in your exercise books, Careless handwriting ... shall I go on?"
Chloe gulped and croaked, "No Miss, sorry."
The final girl also, it transpired, had accumulated 20 demerits. Miss Carruthers then delivered a lecture on the need to strictly observe the rules, to pay attention at all times, etc, etc., etc. By now, Chloe had realised that a punishment was inevitable and her stomach was churning. Miss Carruthers called Simpson forward up to her desk, instructing her to remove her blazer then stand feet together, legs straight at the edge of the desk. Going to a cupboard at the back of the study, she extracted two items and returned. There was an audible intake of breath from the assembled girls. Miss Carruthers laid a very slim rattan cane on the end of the desk away from Simpson. The other item, a stiff leather tawse she held in her right hand, repeatedly drawing it through her left.
"Bend over the desk, Simpson. Stretch out and hold the far edge ... come along, stretch further, I want it nice and tight."
'It', apparently was Simpson's rather plump bottom which was revealed, contained within tight, regulation school knickers as Miss Carruthers lifted the back of Simpson's uniform dress and fastened it firmly up at the waist. Ordering the girl to keep still until told she could rise, the Headmistress measured the tawse across the lower, fleshy portion of Simpson's bottom and adjusted her stance. A couple of light aiming taps and then the tawse was taken up over her shoulder where she paused.
Chloe was watching mesmerised. She felt sick with terror, but at the same time, the sight of Simpson's buttocks, clenching and unclenching in anticipation of the stroke fascinated her. Suddenly, the tawse was swept down in an arc and the two tails bit into the girl's tender flesh. There came a muffled 'OW!!' from Simpson and her right leg stamped on the floor. Miss Carruthers took her time before a second stroke was delivered below the first with deadly accuracy. Simpson squirmed and stamped both feet in a futile attempt to shake off the pain. When the third stroke followed, Simpson half rose then thought better of it. Chloe saw the tears starting to pour down the girls face and she squirmed vigorously over the desk. Chloe could not drag her eyes away from the gyrating bottom displayed in front of her. She had a strange feeling low between her legs. She had not felt anything like it before. She was sure that she could see the marks left by the tails on the bare flesh on either side of the knickers. By the time, three more strokes had found their marks, the last one across the top of the backs of the thighs, Simpson had almost lost control and Chloe was almost overcome by her own conflicting feelings. Simpson was finally ordered to stand up and return to her place in the line with a warning there would be more if she did not stand still with her arms at her sides.
The next girl was called forward ... the smoker. When she was installed over the desk to Miss Carruther's satisfaction, the Headmistress exchanged the tawse for the cane, flexing it between her hands a few times for the benefit of the watchers who shuddered inwardly. Then came the measuring, the raising, the pausing ... then the cane swung down in its arc and curved into the girl's flesh, bending almost double before springing out and straightening. five pairs of eyes widened and watched breathlessly. The girl remained still for several seconds, then the sting of the biting cut built up to a crescendo. She tried hard not to call out but a grunt was heard and again Chloe was entranced by the reluctant wiggle of the firm round globes.
A second stroke bit just below the first. This time a louder moan and the bottom squirmed. The third swished into the crease between bottom and thighs. This opened the floodgates as the girl writhed over the desk and her legs kicked out. Chloe was excited at the view .. and at the same time feeling sick at the knowledge that her turn was slowly but inexorably approaching. Twice more the cane lashed into the tender young teenaged bottom and the girl who had been determined to take her punishment bravely leapt up, hands clutched to her buttocks which now showed evidence of the stripes the cane had left behind to burrow their fire deep into the small neat bottom. The Headmistress waited a moment then quietly told her to remove her hands and get back into position. The girl was much too engrossed in her efforts to rub out the swarm of wasps which were attacking her seat. Miss Carruthers took hold of one of the wrists, turning the hand so that the palm was facing outwards and gave it three rapid short strokes with the cane, causing it to be jerked away. She again gave the order to get back down and this time, hand pushed under armpit .. the girl slowly went back over the desk to receive her final stroke. She returned to her place in line, shaking and sobbing.
The next girl was already crying when she was called for her dose. She was the one who had been overheard using a swear word. The tawse returned into play and she received four strokes with the tawse. Again the stamping, squirming and, this time, pleading before she was allowed to return into line. Chloe had been so intrigued that it came as a surprise when her name was called to take her turn. She had tried to tell herself that she must be brave and show the others that she could take it, though she was trembling almost uncontrollably inside. Perhaps she would only get the same as the last girl.
Chloe stepped forward and went up to the desk, standing straight, then bending across without being told. Perhaps if she obeyed, Miss Carruthers would be lenient. She felt a waft of cool air as her dress was raised and she shut her eyes, telling herself that it would soon be over. She did not see Miss Carruthers again changing her implement and picking up the cane. Chloe felt the slim rattan touch her skin and felt her bottom cheeks clench. Her heart sank and she gritted her teeth.
There seemed to be a long pause and Chloe wildly hoped that perhaps the Headmistress had changed her mind. Immediately though, there was a swish and she felt the cane strike across her buttocks. It hurt a bit but it wasn't too bad, she thought. Perhaps she would survive OK. But then the real stinging built up, at the same time working into the very depth of her bottom. It seemed as though it would never reach its peak and she was sure that she would not be able to stand more. She heard a moan come from somewhere, then she realised it was her. She bit her lip and then the second stroke sliced into her. This time the stinging seemed worse and she could not help crying out. She was also aware that her feet were stamping.
When the third stroke whipped into her, Chloe forgot all about showing she could take it. She managed to force herself to hang on to the edge of the desk with her hands, but the rest of her was writhing and kicking. Miss Carruthers allowed her a moment to recover then ordered her firmly to get back down unless she wanted extra. The words percolated through to her troubled brain and she desperately tried to control herself and await the further onslaught. She did not know much about the final three cuts, just that she knew she was writhing over the desk with legs scissoring wildly, sniffling and sobbing and repeating the words, 'I'm sorry .. I'm sorry'.
When she was finally allowed to stand and return to her place, she felt totally embarrassed. She had been as noisy as any of them and couldn't believe how much the cane stung. She had forgotten all about her feelings while watching the others wriggling their bottoms and she saw little of the last two girl's canings as her eyes were blinded with the tears which still streamed down her cheeks. The last girl to be punished was the talker and she maintained her reputation by sobbing throughout that she was sorry, wouldn't do it ever again, pleeease miss, interspersed by squeals and yells. Finally it was all over and they filed painfully through the secretary's office, not noticing the strange smile on her flushed face. Chloe stopped off with the others at the washroom to rinse her face with cold water. There was talk of dipping their smarting bottoms in the basins of water, but instead she
limped her way home.
Chloe's mother watched her daughter come down the path and in at the front door. She saw her daughter's puffed eyes, the dried tears on her cheeks and the stiff way she walked. She waited to see what Chloe said.
Chloe just managed to say "Hello Mum," and headed for the stairs to seek the sanctuary of her room.
"You're late, where have you been Chloe?" Chloe mumbled something about having to stay back at school. Her mother wasn't to be fobbed off. She told Chloe that it was obvious that she had been punished and wanted to know why. Eventually she got the whole story out of her daughter and instructed her to slip her knickers down and lift up her dress so that she could inspect. She saw the six fine deep crimson stripes etched into her daughter's firm little bottom. "You'll live .. you shouldn't have been a naughty girl, should you? ... Now get your hands washed and come and sit down for tea."
© 2002 kr
