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Bend Over, Girl by Kenny Walters – Sample

Bend Over Girl by Kenny Walters (Post 200x300)(First Story) Fair’s Fair

“Very good, Headmaster.” The school secretary replaced the receiver and turned her attention to the two eighteen year old girls anxiously sitting against the far wall of her office. The blonde girl, wearing a mid-grey pinstripe suit with a fashionably short jacket, was ostensibly the more attractive of the two, although the girl with the shoulder length dark hair had the prettier face and the more rounded, womanly figure clothed in a tight black skirt and plain white blouse. A casual observer, in other surroundings, might easily have mistaken them for prospective new employees awaiting interview, but they were not. These were sixth form girls dressed according to the traditions of the school, and they were in trouble.

Finally, Mrs. Coombes’ lingering appreciation of the tense atmosphere was satisfied and she voiced the words the two girls had been dreading: “The headmaster will see you now.”

With the color draining from their faces and nervous fingers pushing against the edges of their chairs, the two sixth formers got up and paused as each waited for the other to go first. After a few moments the fear of keeping her headmaster waiting overcame all her other fears and the blonde girl took the lead, politely tapping on the large blue painted door and entering only when a gruff male voice from within invited her so to do.

“Hayley.” The blonde girl stood before the large walnut desk, slightly to the left, as the short, burly silver haired man waved a hand briefly to indicate where he wished her to position herself. “Kate.” An even briefer wave instructed the shorter dark haired girl to stand beside her accomplice.

“I presume the pair of you are both familiar with the school’s attitude, and indeed my attitude, on the subject of alcohol on the school premises?” Mr. Jamieson’s angry red face glared up at the two standing figures.

“Sir.” The blonde girl, Hayley, nodded once.

“Yes sir.” Kate added quietly for herself.

“So, no excuses then?”

“No sir.” Hayley shook her head nervously.

“No sir.” Kate stared anxiously down at the seated headmaster.

“Think yourselves very lucky we are not having this conversation twenty years ago!” Mr. Jamieson’s voice boomed up at them. “Because if it had, be in no doubt the pair of you would already be packing your bags!”

A silence suggested the two girls should respond, but Hayley decided the carpet in front of her merited some attention whilst Kate opted for biting her lip and continuing to look down at her headmaster.

“However, we now live in more enlightened times.” A sigh appeared to convey some inner disappointment within Mr. Jamieson that he could not watch these two girls walking forlornly down the school drive, suitably laden with their suitcases. “Therefore I am able to offer you a choice between three weeks suspension or six strokes of the cane. You may have a few moments to consider.”

Pretending to find some papers needing his urgent attention, neither girl felt in any doubt Mr. Jamieson was watching their every move. Hayley looked at Kate, whose eyes were averted to the ceiling. Needing to know what the dark haired girl wanted to do, Hayley felt like nudging her elbow into the other girl’s ribs, but that might have been considered unseemly for a girl at St Martha’s.

A rustle of paper and the sound of wood upon wood as a drawer closed meant that Mr. Jamieson was ready to receive their answers. “Well? What is it to be?” The headmaster stared menacingly at Hayley, suggesting he considered her to be the dominant member of the guilty duo.

Hayley, though, turned her face anxiously towards the shorter dark haired girl.

“I’ll take the cane, sir.” Clear, certain and precise, Hayley blinked in amazement as the other girl’s words filled the large study. Now, the blonde girl’s heart really pounded as she knew her own decision needed to be announced.

“Hayley?” The headmaster encouraged a response. “Come along, girl! Surely it’s not that hard a choice.”

“I’ll… I’ll t-t-t…” Hayley found herself stammering for the first time in her life. “I’ll have the same, sir.” The blonde girl breathed out, looking up at the ceiling as she considered the ordeal she’d selected.

“Very well, go out to Mrs. Coombes’ office and prepare yourselves. Return when you are ready.”

Kate Mansell turned and headed for the door. In a daze, Hayley Middleton stumbled after her.

“Um. How did it go then, girls?” Mrs. Coombes looked up at the two eighteen year olds standing bewildered in the middle of her office.

“It went…, that is…” Hayley found it impossible to admit to the forty something, rather attractive school secretary the outcome of their meeting with Mr. Jamieson.

“We’ve both opted to take the, er… to take a hiding.” Even Kate grimaced as she forced the words out.

“Do we know precisely what sort of a hiding?” Mrs. Coombes spoke gently, suggesting her enquiry was totally innocent in nature.

“I believe Mr. Jamieson is proposing to use the cane.” Kate answered, inwardly wondering how many sorts of hiding were on offer at St Martha’s.

“Did he say where?”

“In his study.” Hayley finally found her voice.

Mrs. Coombes smiled, then thought up another approach to illicit the information she needed. “How many?”

“Six.” Kate answered. “I think it’s six. He did say six, didn’t he Hayley?”

“Yes.” The confirmation slipped nervously from the blonde girl’s lips.

“Ah, that’ll be bottoms then.”

“Bottoms?” Kate asked, wondering what on earth the woman meant.

Hayley frowned her ignorance.

“As opposed to hands.” Mrs. Coombes smiled again. “Up to three, could be hands. Over three, bottoms. School rules.”

Kate took a deep breath as though about to launch some indignant protest, paused for thought, then simply nodded slowly in acceptance of the situation. Hayley watched Kate’s changing reaction with astonishment, and then both girls looked towards the school secretary for guidance.

Now that Mrs. Coombes could sense the girls’ surrender, she continued: “Okay. Let’s get organized. Kate, are you wearing tights under that skirt?”

“Yes.” The dark haired girl answered sharply, the question doing nothing to dispel her nervousness.

“Take them off then.” Mrs. Coombes smiled. “Don’t want them getting damaged, do we?”

As Kate turned her back and began struggling to remove the garment with as little embarrassment as possible, the school secretary turned her attention to Hayley.

“I presume you’re not wearing tights under those trousers, Hayley?”

“No.” Hayley, too, seemed unduly alarmed by the question.

“Just knickers?”


“I’ll need to check. Come here and stand with your back to me.”

Hayley cast a frowning expression towards Kate, who seemed equally amazed, then went over to the school secretary’s chair and stood with her back towards Mrs. Coombes.

“Drop your trousers.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I said, drop your trousers Hayley.” Mrs. Coombes raised her voice. “I need to check you’re not wearing more than one pair of knickers.”

“What?” Hayley turned her head in surprise. “No!”

“It’s up to you naturally, Hayley.” Mrs. Coombes seemed quite unperturbed by the girl’s refusal. “Of course, I shall have to inform the headmaster. That will mean you having to go and fetch your pajama bottoms to change into—and no underwear underneath!”

Hayley frowned again, quite confused.

“Pajama trousers with nothing underneath offer a lot less protection than your trousers and knickers, Hayley.” Mrs. Coombes enlightened the blonde girl.

With a despairing glance towards Kate, Hayley unfastened her grey pinstripe trousers and let them slip to below her hips. Mrs. Coombes stared at the satin black panties, tailored so the lower cheeks of Hayley’s bottom were exposed, before pulling the elastic top back and down and peering at the blonde girl’s small firm backside. Delicately replacing the underwear back into position, the school secretary ran her hand across the shiny material that encased Hayley’s firm round buttocks and terminated with a pat on the right cheek.

“Okay, you’ll do!”

Hayley hitched her trousers up and refastened them before stepping away from the secretary’s desk. A glance at Kate revealed the dark haired girl looking down and sideways at Mrs. Coombes.

“Yes, Kate. You too.”

Kate swayed sideways back and forth as though pondering whether to respond, but decided to surrender herself to Mrs. Coombes’ inspection. In a matter of moments, Kate was standing with her back towards the school secretary and struggling with the zip at the back of her tight black skirt. Once the skirt had been eased down her womanly hips, Kate felt the skirt slip right down to her ankles, a hasty attempt to stop it falling being in vain.

“Good girl!” Mrs. Coombes lifted the tail of Kate’s white blouse and immediately began attacking the elastic top of the pale blue brief panties she discovered underneath. The air felt strangely cool on Kate’s bare flesh as the panties were tugged down. “Yes, that’s fine.”

With her underwear carefully replaced by the school secretary, Kate began to reach down for her skirt, feeling quite uncomfortable as she bent down in front of Mrs. Coombes. Kate was still blushing when, with the skirt refastened, she went and stood near to Hayley.

“Are you ready then, girls?” Mrs. Coombes asked gently.

“What happens next?” Hayley replied with a question of her own.

“You go in and get your bottoms smacked, Hayley.” Mrs. Coombes answered softly. “Take a deep breath and tap on the door.”

“What? Now?” Hayley asked.

“Best to get it over with, don’t you think?”

Hayley looked at Kate.

“Come on.” Kate took the lead and went over to the door to the headmaster’s study.

“Enter!” Mr. Jamieson’s voice bellowed from within, after the dark haired girl had tapped gently on the blue painted door.

Standing in front of the headmaster’s desk, both with their hands behind their backs, the two girls looked down at the walnut surface, now devoid of all the paperwork and pens that had been there earlier. Even the telephone had been removed. It was not the strangely clear desk that caught their eye, though; it was the slender three foot long cane that rested there, a cane complete with the traditional crook handle at one end.

John Jamieson saw the two girls looking wide-eyed at the cane and allowed them some moments to tremble and mull over in their minds the terror it represented. When Kate finally averted her gaze and met the headmaster’s stare with her own nervously darting eyes, only then did he feel the time was right.

Picking up the cane, John Jamieson gently tapped the tip on the surface of the desk towards the right hand side. “I shall ask you in turn to bend over this end of the desk. Six strokes each, if you remember.”

Both girls stood frozen to the spot, their eyes scared, their faces grim.

“Kate. As you’re the nearest, perhaps you would be so kind as to take up the position.”

Kate’s eyes flashed. Her heart pounded against her ribs before, with a nervous twitch of her head, she moved slowly round to face the end of the desk. With just the briefest of glances at the waiting headmaster, she began to lean across the polished surface. As her hands reached down to touch the hard wooden desktop, her tight skirt gripped her backside ever more snugly. Finally, with her neat breasts pressing into the desk and her arms folded below her face, Kate closed her eyes and waited.

A nervous cough from Hayley, a shuffling of feet from the headmaster and the sound of birds chirping in the grounds outside filled Kate’s ears until she felt the tip of the cane touching her gently across the seat of her tight black skirt. The reality of all she had been dreading would strike her backside at any moment.

“Uh!” The whoosh of air had been short and deadly. The crack as cane struck tight black skirt material had seemed to fill the room. Now the smarting soreness spread like fire across Kate’s shapely bottom.

“Uh!” Another sharp cut, lower this time, thwacked across Kate’s round buttocks making her entire body snatch and giving her a fresh dose of punishing soreness across her rear.

“Aa-ah!” Kate felt her eyes begin to moisten as another stroke cut into her bottom, higher than both the previous two but still smarting like the devil. She risked a glance at Hayley, and saw the blonde girl looking down, watching every move of her punishment.

“Eesh!” Yet another cut into the center of Kate’s backside and with it the next dose of scorching, searing pain that spread like wildfire across her tightly clad rear. Kate was losing count as her mind became ever more in turmoil. Desperately, she tried to calculate how many more she would have to take.

“Aah!” Another stroke whipped across the seat of Kate’s tight black skirt and sent fresh stinging pain spreading across the soft round curves of her bottom. The desire to reach back and soothe the soreness was getting ever more tempting, but Kate knew such an act was strictly taboo.

“Eeesh!!” Again, the slender rattan whipped into Kate’s tender bottom sending yet another dose of aching cutting pain searing across her entire backside. She wondered how much longer this agonizing experience would continue, how many strokes she’d taken and how many more there were to go.

“Thank you Kate. You may get up.”

Kate heard. The headmaster’s gruff male voice had reached her ears, but the brain took some time to react. Gently, she eased herself up from the desk, her hands immediately reaching behind so that careful fingers could probe and rub and ease the soreness. She turned round and went to stand near to the window, away from the scene of her punishment and away too from Hayley.

“Hayley.” Kate heard the headmaster’s voice again. “If you please, Hayley.”

As Kate looked across at her accomplice their eyes met and Kate could see just how terrified Hayley was. After a few seconds pause, though, some inner discipline, or perhaps it was just the lack of any alternative, compelled Hayley to force one leg in front of the other and make her way unsteadily round to the end of the desk.

With just a brief pause to look down at the solid walnut surface of the desk, Hayley leaned forward. Her longer legs made it more awkward for her to rest her whole body along the length of the desk, so she kept her legs more or less straight and bent down until she too could rest her head on her folded arms that now felt distinctly uncomfortable on the unyielding wooden surface.

As Kate watched, she could see Hayley’s adopted position stretched the tight grey pinstripe trousers tightly across her taut compact bottom although the short jacket, now partially ridden up, did still cover the upper portions of the blonde girl’s backside. This point had also been noticed by their headmaster, for he began folding the jacket up Hayley’s back until the low waistband of the trousers and a good foot or so of her white blouse became exposed.

Now, though, Mr. Jamieson had picked up the slender cane and was tapping it gently across the taut seat of Hayley’s trousers as he measured up the first stroke. In one swift movement, the cane was drawn back perhaps three feet before being whipped down across the waiting target.

“Aaaah!” Hayley cried, her voice shrill and near to a scream.

Kate looked across at Hayley’s grey pinstripe clad bottom, saw the unmistakable outline of her brief knickers, and wondered what marks had been created on the soft delicate flesh below.

A second stroke of the cane flashed across Kate’s view, the cracking sound as it struck Hayley’s bottom causing her to jump.

“Aaaah!” Hayley snatched her head back as the blow struck, but immediately settled back into position. Kate reckoned from her own experience that Hayley simply wanted to get the ordeal over with as quickly as possible and so endeavored to do nothing that would delay the proceedings.

As Mr. Jamieson drew the cane back again, Kate saw the look of grim determination on his face as he aimed the thin whippy implement at the blonde girl’s backside.

“Ooooh!” Hayley’s right knee gave way as she felt the effects of the cane cracking across her firm round bottom, but the desk prevented her from falling. She wriggled her bottom a couple of times as though to soothe the pain, then resumed her original position ready for the next stroke.

“Ooooow!” From where Kate was standing, the fourth stroke looked decidedly gentler than the preceding ones, but Hayley’s reaction suggested the effects were just as profound. She wriggled her bottom again, then braced herself in readiness.

“Eeeeesh!” As Hayley wriggled her bottom yet again, Kate noticed the visible outline of the blonde girl’s knickers had ridden up with the writhing action and now most of her left buttock and some of the right were covered only by the taut grey pinstripe material of her trousers.

“Aaaargh!” Hayley arched her back as she felt the effect of the sixth stroke and as she raised her head, Kate saw her fists were clenched tight. Perhaps the blonde girl had lost count of the number of strokes she had received, perhaps not, for she half settled back into position whilst at the same time looking round at her headmaster through tear stained eyes.

“That completes your punishment, Hayley.” Mr. Jamieson waited for Hayley to slowly ease herself up from the desk and softly run the tips of her fingers across her trousered bottom as she explored the damage caused by the whippy thin rattan. Once Hayley had vacated the desktop, the headmaster laid the cane down on the walnut surface.

“You are both free to leave, and don’t ever appear before me again for this type of offence. Do you hear?”

“Yes sir.” Hayley answered, on the point of bursting into tears.

“Yes sir.” Kate murmured as she started walking slowly towards Hayley and the door beyond. She paused, allowing the blonde girl to go first, and then the two were back in the school secretary’s office.

“Are you two alright?” Mrs. Coombes looked up with some sympathy as both girls gently rubbed their bottoms.

“I’ve felt better.” Kate replied.

“Can we go?” Hayley added, anxious to be away.

“Of course.”

The two girls had rooms on the third floor of the adjoining dormitory building and thankfully avoided their entire peer group as they climbed the stairs. They reached Kate’s room first.

“Want to come in for a minute?” Kate asked.

Hayley shook her head and continued down the corridor to her own room, a further five doors along.

Closing the door behind her, Kate unzipped her skirt and slid it down.

“Ooooh!!” As Kate stepped out of the skirt and bent down to pick it up, a fresh bout of sore discomfort reminded her yet again of the punishment she had received just a short while ago. Standing with her back to the full length wardrobe mirror, she slipped her pale blue panties down and surveyed the damage caused to her soft round bottom. Six angry red stripes crisscrossed the pale cream flesh and stretched round almost to her hips. A tap on her door interrupted her examination.

“Hold on! Won’t be a minute!”

Kate bent down to retrieve her knickers from around her ankles. Unfortunately, though, the visitor totally ignored her instructions and burst into the room.

“Rachel! I asked you to wait!”

“Sorry. Good grief!” Rachel Thomas-Jones, a fellow sixth form girl and Kate’s best friend stared down at the reflection of Kate’s bottom in the mirror. “He did cane you then?”

“Sort of looks like it, wouldn’t you say?” Kate too turned her head and took another look at the stripes across her bottom as she stood with her knickers held at hip height.

“Good grief!” Rachel repeated as she bent down for a better look.

“Let me know when you’ve finished looking!” Kate said sarcastically.

“Oh! Sorry!” Rachel stood up and allowed Kate to replace her knickers.

“Was there something you wanted? Other than to look at my sore backside.”

“Eh? Oh, yes.” Rachel ran a hand over her long brown hair tied back in a ponytail. “Head girl wants to see you in the prefects’ common room.”

“What now? Do I have to?”

“Absolutely. It’s for your benefit. And Hayley’s of course. Kristy Parkinson’s fetching her as we speak.”

“What’s this all about?” Kate asked, suspiciously.

“I’m not exactly sure.” Rachel bit her lip to confirm her ignorance. “But the head girl says it’s vitally important.”

“Wants everyone to have a look at our sore bottoms, I suppose.”

“I don’t think it’s that.” Rachel answered with less than total conviction. “I don’t think we do that in the sixth form, do we?”

“I’ll wear tracksuit bottoms just in case.” Kate took a plain red pair from a drawer and began putting them on. “It will save them having to struggle with zips and things.”

“No, I really don’t think you’re in for a public stripping, Kate.”

“Whatever! Let’s go and find out.”

As Kate and Rachel left the room, they met up with Hayley and Kristy Parkinson. Hayley’s tears had stopped but she cast a worried glance in Kate’s direction.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Hayley asked.

“Probably. What are you thinking?”

“That we’re going to find ourselves bent across the common room table with our trousers and pants down while the others have a good look at the marks on our bottoms.”

“That’s what I’m thinking!”

When they arrived at the sixth form common room, Kate and Hayley led the way in. About ten or twelve sixth form girls were present.

“Ah Kate and Hayley. Thanks for joining us.” Helen Mills-Thompson, the head girl, welcomed her. “Do please take a seat—or not, as you prefer.”

A snigger came from one of the seated girls.

“Be silent!” Helen Mills-Thompson snapped. “You’ll speak when you’re spoken to!” Helen, a tall girl with long flowing blonde hair, spoke with a plummy upper-class accent.

Kate, Hayley, Kirsty, and Rachel went over to the window and sat in the soft armchairs that lined that wall of the common room. Everyone in the room watched as Kate and Hayley sat down. Both, for their own dignity, managed the maneuver without any visible sign of flinching. Both, too, were astonished when they realized the identities of two of the other girls in the room, Nicky Davies and Vanessa Thornton.

“I’ve called this meeting because I think we’re all aware of an injustice that has occurred and I want this sorted with no hard feelings.” Helen paused and looked around the room, checking that everyone was heeding he words. “I’m sure everyone knows Hayley and Kate have just received the cane from the headmaster.”

“I didn’t know that.” One sixth form girl whispered loud enough for the whole room to hear.

“Shush!” Several girls silenced her.

“As I understand it,” Helen continued. “A member of staff came to this very common room and found a bottle of gin on the table. When asked who had been drinking from the bottle, Hayley and Kate honorably confessed and took their punishments with the dignity we all expect from our girls.”

Another look around showed the head girl she had the hushed attention of everyone in the room.

“Two girls, though, did not. And they include the girl who brought the bottle into the common room in the first place. Is that not correct?”

Everyone remained silent. A few girls looked towards Nicky Davies and Vanessa Thornton. Nicky, a small girl with short dark hair, had gone quite red in the face and looked down rather guiltily. Vanessa, though, a taller girl with long dark hair, stared straight back at the head girl with just a slightly worried look in her eye.

“Is that not correct?” Helen repeated, rather louder, when no-one answered.

One or two girls fidgeted, but still no-one spoke.

“Let me put it another way,” Helen said after a moment or two’s thought. “If the two girls own up now, they’ll be punished by the headmaster. If they don’t, they’ll be sent to Coventry by the whole school. In other words, every girl in the school will be instructed not to speak to them or acknowledge them in any way and, if that is not enough, I will personally see to it that their remaining time here will be the worst days of their life!”

“Oh, right!” Vanessa Thornton retorted. “So we go and get caned, and then everything’s okay is it? What’s the point? The headmaster has had two victims to thrash, so he’s happy. If we get caned too, is that going to going to take away Hayley and Kate’s sore bums?”

“The point is, Vanessa, it’s only fair. You two are equally as guilty if not more so. And, yes, I do think it might make Hayley and Kate feel a little better about it.”

“Really? Is that right Hayley? Kate?” Vanessa turned to the two girls. “Would it make you feel better if we got the cane too?”

“I suppose it would, to be honest, Vanessa.” Kate’s soft voice broke an awkward silence. Hayley didn’t answer.

“I am sorry you were caned, Kate. You too, Hayley.” Nicky Davies looked round towards the two girls, speaking quietly and sincerely. Both Kate and Hayley stared coldly back at her before Nicky whispered in Vanessa’s ear: “Do you think we should?”

Vanessa shook her head.

“It’s your choice, Nicky and Vanessa.” Helen, the head girl, spoke. “But your life at this school will be hell from now on. Be very certain about that.”

“Come on Vanessa. What choice do we have?” Nicky appeared to show at least some enthusiasm for owning up and taking her punishment.

“Choice? Good thinking, Nicky!” Vanessa sat up brightly. “That’s right, Helen. We do have a choice, don’t we? We could choose a suspension.”

“That’s true,” Helen Mills-Thompson answered thoughtfully. “But you’ll choose the caning. In fact, you’ll request an exemplary caning.”

“Oh yes?” Vanessa laughed. “An exemplary caning? Why?”

“Because you supplied the gin and because you didn’t own up when you should have done.”

“Oh, right. Of course we will.” Vanessa spoke sarcastically.

“And I’ll have a word with the headmaster and explain your decision.”

“Do you really think he’ll believe we’ve volunteered to take an exemplary caning?”

“Yes, of course. Why shouldn’t he believe his head girl?”

“We haven’t said we’d take any sort of caning, actually Helen!”

“You don’t really have much choice do you? Unless of course you want your life to be hell.”

“She’s right, Vanessa.” Nicky Davies whispered in Vanessa’s ear.

The following day, after completion of all lessons, Helen Mills-Thompson waited in the corridor, a little way down from the school secretary’s office. As she looked at her watch and saw it was nearing half past four, two figures came down the stairs from the sixth form rooms.

“Nicely on time girls.” Helen greeted them. “After you.”

As Vanessa Thornton and Nicky Davies led the way, Helen Mills-Thompson followed, her eyes noting both girls wearing white games shirts and black plimsoles. Nicky, though, wore short white shorts against Vanessa’s choice of black shorts.

“It’s okay, Helen.” Vanessa spoke to the head girl. “We can find our way to the secretary’s office, thank you.”

“Oh, I’ll come too, Vanessa. I just want to make sure all the procedures are observed.”

“What does that mean?”

Before the head girl had time to answer, they arrived at the school secretary’s office door. Helen Mills-Thompson opened the door and ushered them in.

“Good afternoon girls.” Mrs. Coombes greeted them. “Mr. Jamieson will only be a minute or two. Take a seat.”

As Nicky and Vanessa went to sit down, Helen Mills-Thompson stopped them. “Just a minute, I think you need to check something, don’t you Mrs. Coombes?”

The school secretary smiled. “Very well, Helen. Nicky, would you come over here please?”

Frowning with uncertainty, the small girl with the short dark hair went across to where Mrs. Coombes was seated behind her desk.

“Stand with your back to me, please Nicky.”

Nicky dutifully spun round and stood with her back towards Mrs. Coombes. In an instant she felt the elastic waistband of her white shorts being pulled roughly back and down. A glance round confirmed that Mrs. Coombes was indeed inspecting her bare bottom underneath the shorts.

“Very good. Thank you, Nicky.” Mrs. Coombes settled the shorts back into place and gave Nicky a pat on her right bottom cheek. “Now you, please Vanessa.”

“Is this really necessary?” Vanessa turned to Helen Mills-Thompson for support.

“It’s procedure, Vanessa.” Helen explained.

Vanessa sighed, shrugged her shoulders and slowly went across to the school secretary. She turned and waited for her black shorts to be pulled down.

“Naughty girl!” Mrs. Coombes held the shorts down with one hand and pulled back on a pair of white cotton knickers with another, indicating to Helen Mills-Thompson that Vanessa was wearing more clothing than she was allowed.

“Vanessa!” Helen almost shouted. “I told you an exemplary caning, which means you aren’t allowed to wear anything under your shorts!”

“Can’t blame me for trying.” Vanessa grinned sheepishly.

“Quickly, get them off!”

As Vanessa stood shakily on one foot and then the other as she peeled off the black shorts, the telephone rang and Mrs. Coombes lifted the receiver.

“Very well, Headmaster.” As the school secretary replaced the receiver, she announced: “Mr. Jamieson is ready for you.”

“He’ll have to wait.” Vanessa stood in her white games shirt and white knickers, holding her black shorts in her hand. “I’m still changing!”

“No, you’ll have to go in as you are.” Helen Mills-Thompson snatched the black shorts from Vanessa’s hand. “Go on, you’d better not keep him waiting.”

As Vanessa stood dumbstruck, Nicky Davies nervously tapped on the headmaster’s study door. “Come on, Vanessa. Let’s get this over with.”

“Ah, Nicky Davies and Vanessa Thornton.” Mr. Jamieson looked up from his desk, his jaw sagging as he observed Vanessa with just her white knickers below her games shirt.

As the two girls stood in front of the large desk, their eyes focused on the slender yellow cane placed neatly upon the top of the cleared desk.

“I don’t know what to say to you two girls.” Mr. Jamieson fingered the cane lying in front of him as he spoke. “You will certainly learn in a moment that alcohol in school is not acceptable. As for not owning up at the time, well, at least you have both now voluntarily presented yourselves for punishment with as little protection as modesty allows. That much, I suppose, is in your favor. Do you have anything to say?”

“I… I’d just like to apologize, sir.” Nicky answered after waiting a moment in case Vanessa wanted to speak first.

“Yes sir, sorry sir.” Vanessa mumbled.

“Shall we proceed, then?”

Vanessa sighed and looked away. Nicky nodded.

“Right.” Mr. Jamieson stood up, the cane now in his right hand. “Nicky, you’re nearest. Across the end of the desk, please.” The headmaster tapped the end of the desk to indicate where exactly he wished Nicky to position herself.

Grim faced, Nicky went round to the end of the desk and bent over, her short stature allowing her to mold her body neatly over the edge. She held on to the sides of the desk and anxiously looked round to observe Mr. Jamieson’s every move.

“Six strokes, Nicky.” Mr. Jamieson looked down on Nicky’s pretty face.

“Yes sir.” Nicky grimaced, then lay quite still as the headmaster slowly folded back her white games shirt to fully reveal her white shorts.

When Mr. Jamieson gently laid the tip of the cane across the now taut material of Nicky’s white shorts, the girl turned her head so she now looked up at Vanessa.

Just a brief but awesome whoosh of air preceded the wooden crack that appeared to echo round the room as Nicky jerked her head up in response to the cutting pain that spread quickly across her bottom like wildfire. She breathed out noisily, drew air in and breathed it noisily out again.

A second whoosh heralded another searing pain as the cane snapped across Nicky’s thinly veiled bottom. Already she was wishing she had owned up with Kate and Hayley and taken her punishment across normal indoor clothing.

A small delay, then another whoosh and another whipping cut into Nicky’s small compact round bottom. The small dark haired girl gasped for breath as she arched her back against the singeing soreness. A glance up at Vanessa revealed her friend looking down at her bottom, her face a picture of terror.

A longer delay set Nicky’s mind racing as she yearned to know what was happening back there. Was Mr. Jamieson allowing her a moment or two’s respite? No, he was probably just lining up his next assault on her poorly protected bottom, wondering where to hit it to achieve maximum distress.

And then the cane struck the little dark haired girl.

“Ouch!” Nicky gasped, sucking air into her lungs so sharply she felt her flesh tight against her cheek bones.

Another whoosh and an echoing crack snapped a fresh bout of scorching burning pain across her entire bottom before she was truly prepared for it.

“Aaaargh!” Nicky’s mind was fast losing control and panic set in as her bottom ached and stung like a thousand bees had pricked their venom into the soft white flesh back there. She clung to the desk for all she was worth.

For a moment, it didn’t come. Then she heard the whoosh and the crack as the cane snapped across her poor bottom yet again.

“No!” She cried, not thinking nor caring what word it was she uttered. Nicky felt she couldn’t take much more of this awful stinging pain. Her mind raced as she struggled to calculate how many strokes she’d received and therefore how many were left to take.

“Thank you, Nicky. You may get up.”

The words had come from somewhere behind her, well into the background. She recognized her name but couldn’t immediately assimilate just what or who the words were intended for. Nicky lay across the desk, breathing heavily and emitting little sobs.

Nicky looked to her right and saw Vanessa’s terrified features staring not at her, but something over to her left. Nicky turned her head, following Vanessa’s gaze and saw Mr. Jamieson waiting, tapping his shoe with the tip of the cane.

Slowly, tenderly, Nicky lifted herself up from the desk and turned. As she went across to the window, she placed both hands gently on the thin white material that covered her bottom and began rubbing gingerly. When she turned again, she saw Vanessa with her back to her, facing the desk, and looking petrified at Mr. Jamieson.

The stinging fire that raged across Nicky’s bottom began to ease with her gentle massaging, but still the curious spectacle continued of Vanessa standing before the end of the desk in just her white games shirt that hung down and covered barely the top half of her brief white knickers while Mr. Jamieson stood waiting cane in hand.

“Come along, Vanessa, we don’t want to be all day about it, do we?” Mr. Jamieson’s gruff voice encouraged.

Finally, Vanessa leaned across the end of the desk and Nicky watched as the thin material of the long haired girl’s white knickers stretched up as she bent over and surrendered herself to her punishment. Without delay, Mr. Jamieson folded up the white sports shirt, stood back and applied the tip of the cane to the soft cotton material of the taut white knickers.

With a whoosh and a crack, the first stroke was applied to Vanessa’s knicker-clad backside.

“Uuunh!” The muffled cry came from a face buried in folded arms resting on the hard wooden surface of the desk. A solitary sob followed.

In an all too brief flurry of pale yellow rattan, Nicky saw the second stroke crack down onto the soft round bottom and cut into both buttocks.

“Uuunh!” Vanessa wailed from below her long dark hair. Two sobs followed.

As Nicky studied the scene intensely, Mr. Jamieson hovered the cane an inch or so from the taut white knickers that stretched across Vanessa’s bottom as he sized up the next stroke. In another brief flash, he drew the cane back and whipped it down across the girl’s waiting bottom.

“Oh sir! Please! It hurts!” Vanessa cried out, arching her back against her obvious pain.

“So it does, Vanessa. So it does.” Mr. Jamieson spoke slowly and firmly. “Please stay down so we can complete your punishment.”

“But sir…” Vanessa settled back onto the hard wooden desktop.

Taking just a second or two to aim his next stroke, Mr. Jamieson drew back the cane and quickly lashed it down across Vanessa’s tightly stretched knickers.

“Ooow! Oh, sir!” Vanessa cried out but forced herself to remain low across the desk.

Seizing the opportunity, Mr. Jamieson quickly aligned the cane, swung it back and unleashed another cutting blow across the waiting target.

“Oooow! Oh, please sir…” Vanessa began to move a hand back towards her obviously sore bottom then thought better of it and tucked the hand back under her face. Nicky, still carefully studying every detail of her friend’s punishment, stopped massaging her own bottom and waited for the final stroke to be applied, knowing they would soon both be out and away from this awful place.

Mr. Jamieson, though, paused for some long moments as he too studied the white knicker material and the soft white bottom flesh that now had been exposed by the underwear riding up. His decision made, the headmaster drew the cane back, took aim and swung the yellow rattan down until it struck the waiting bottom with an echoing crack.

“Ooooouch!! Oh sir!!” Vanessa began to cry openly.

“Thank you, Vanessa. Your punishment is completed.”

While Mr. Jamieson turned away and placed the cane on top of an antique chest of drawers, Vanessa remained bent across the end of the desk sobbing gently into her folded arms. Only when several minutes had passed did Nicky go over to her and place a hand gently on her back.

“Come along Vanessa. Time to go.”

Vanessa looked up, saw her friend waiting and began to ease herself up from the desk. Wiping away her tears with the back of her hand, Vanessa looked round for the headmaster, as though wanting to confirm her ordeal really was over.

“You may both leave.”

“Thank you, sir.” Vanessa sobbed.

“Thank you, sir.” Nicky echoed.

Mrs. Coombes moved away from the door to the headmaster’s study and sat down just in time to see the door open and the two girls emerge.

“Tissue?” The school secretary held out a large box to Vanessa.

“Thanks.” Vanessa took several and began dabbing at her eyes.

“Bad?” Mrs. Coombes looked up at each girl in turn.

“Pretty bad.” Nicky confirmed, while Vanessa silently dried her face.

“Are you okay?” Mrs. Coombes directed her question at Nicky.

The short haired girl nodded, then added for good measure: “Rather sore.”

“I expect it is. Still, all over now. Eh?”

Nicky nodded again and took Vanessa by the arm and led her out into the corridor.

“I thought that would make you smart a bit!” A voice came from behind them as they walked slowly along. Both girls turned, and saw the tall figure of Helen Mills-Thompson.

“That really hurt!” Vanessa wailed.

“It was meant to.” Helen snapped in reply. “I’ve put your shorts in your room, Vanessa.”

Nicky looked down and only now realized Vanessa was still in just her knickers and games shirt. “What? You mean Vanessa has got to go all the way back to her room in just her knickers?”

“So it would seem, Nicky.” Helen answered smugly.

“You did this deliberately.” Vanessa moaned.

“You think so? Well, yes, so I did. Off you go now.” As the two girls turned back towards their rooms, Helen delivered a hefty whack with the palm of her hand against the seat of Vanessa’s knickers.

“Ouch!! Christ, that bloody hurt!!” As Vanessa’s eyes filled with fresh tears, Nicky turned back to Helen Mills-Thompson and scowled angrily. The head girl, though, merely waited for the two girls to continue along the corridor, then watched them until they turned a corner and were lost from sight.

“Helen! Could I have a word, please? In my study!”

The self-satisfaction rapidly drained from Helen’s face as she heard the headmaster’s voice behind her.

“What, do you mean now sir?”

“If you please, Helen.”

They entered the study by way of the secretary’s office, and the way Mrs. Coombes kept her head down and avoided all eye contact with the head girl caused Helen’s heart to skip a beat. As Mr. Jamieson sat down behind his desk, he waved a hand inviting Helen to stand before it. Helen, though, in her ignorance, fetched a comfortably padded armchair and placed it by the side of the desk before sitting down and crossing her legs.

For a moment, Mr. Jamieson considered voicing his actual intention to the head girl, then decided against it. Instead, he focused on the head girl’s stunning appearance. A simple tight short navy blue skirt and white blouse looked amazingly sophisticated on this girl whereas on some they might have seemed cheap and provocative.

“I’m not sure I’m very happy with your conduct in all of this, Helen.”

“Not happy, sir?”

“No. I’m given to understand you coerced both Nicky and Vanessa into not only owning up to their involvement with the bottle of gin, but then bullied them into accepting canings as their punishment. Then, I believe you had something to do with one girl presenting herself for punishment in just her knickers. Is that so?”

Helen uncrossed her legs and leaned forward in her seat, sandwiching her hands between her thighs as she considered her response. “I certainly thought it quite unfair and quite unbecoming of girls from this school not to have owned up at the time. So, yes, I did put some pressure on Vanessa and Nicky to come to you and confess. I was worried, you see, that the other girls might pick on them if they were known not to have been punished as Kate and Hayley were.”

“But Kate and Hayley chose to be caned as an alternative to suspension. I believe Nicky and Vanessa were not allowed that choice.”

“Not in so many words, no sir.”

“Come, come, Helen. I’ve been told you gave them no choice at all. Is that correct?”

“Yes sir.”

“And may I presume Nicky and Vanessa did not choose to take exemplary canings, that is to say with the protection of only one layer of clothing, of their own volition too?”

“Yes sir.”

“That really will not do, Helen. Had you sent Nicky and Vanessa to me simply because they had been identified as two girls involved in drinking alcohol on the school premises, that would have been fine. Then I could have dealt with them in similar fashion to Kate and Hayley. But you wanted more than that, didn’t you Helen?”

“Yes sir. I wanted them to suffer an extra punishment for not owning up at the time. I don’t see anything wrong in that.”

“No, and that could have been a factor in assessing the punishments they were offered. But you bullied them into taking exemplary canings by threatening all sorts of dire consequences if they didn’t submit. And then you misled me into believing they actually chose to receive exemplary canings when that was not the case at all. Bullying and lying to me are serious matters, Helen. Finally, I’m given to understand that after Mrs. Coombes discovered Vanessa had tried to cheat by wearing underwear under her shorts it was you who snatched the girl’s shorts away when she was in the middle of changing. Is that also correct?”

“Yes sir.” Helen’s mind struggled to find something to excuse her behavior in the eyes of her headmaster, but nothing suitable came to mind. “So, what happens now?”

Looking down into her lap, Helen Mills-Thompson was worried this could cost her the position of head girl. To be demoted back to prefect, or even worse to be demoted back to being a simple sixth-former, would be disastrous for her standing in the school, not to mention the shame and humiliation she would suffer when all the others found out.

“You’re a very good head girl, Helen, one of the best we’ve had.” Mr. Jamieson took a moment to collect his thoughts, and to observe just how concerned Helen appeared to be. “Therefore, I wouldn’t want this sorry affair to affect your position here.”

“Really?” Helen looked up, a spark of optimism in her eye. “What, then?”

“I rather think the solution is obvious, Helen.”

“You want me to apologize to Nicky and Vanessa, sir?”

“Well, that would certainly help.”

“Okay.” Helen looked down, thoughtfully. “Okay, sir. I can do that.”

“Good. But there will also have to be a punishment, Helen. I’m sure you realize that.”

“A punishment, sir?” Helen rather thought the act of having to apologize to Nicky and, especially, Vanessa would be pretty humiliating on its own without any further sanction. “What punishment, sir?”

“I think that is rather obvious, Helen.”

“You intend to cane me, sir?”

“I shall allow you a choice, Helen. Even though you failed to offer Nicky and Vanessa one. Six strokes of the cane or six one hour detentions. I’m sure you can appreciate that for a head girl to have to attend detention sessions would be an extremely humiliating experience.”

Helen smiled ruefully. She was being set up to take the caning, not so very different from the way she’d coerced Nicky and Vanessa. “But the caning would not become common knowledge. Is that correct, sir?”

“That is about the size of it, Helen. Although to satisfy any complaints Nicky and Vanessa might have, they will be informed with the strict understanding they are not to speak about the matter to anyone.”

Helen nodded slowly and knowingly. “So, are we talking about sort of token strokes, say three to each hand, sir?”

It was Mr. Jamieson’s turn to smile. “I think not, Helen. In fact, you may feel justice would best be served if you opted to receive an exemplary caning. Purely your own choice of course.”

“Of course, sir.” Helen sat back in her chair, aware the talking was all but over. “So what do I have to do?”

“I expect you would like to go and change, Helen. Shall we say back here in twenty minutes?”

“Right, sir.”

Helen left the headmaster’s study and passed quickly by the school secretary without pausing for their customary exchange of idle chatter. In less than twenty minutes, Helen was back in the secretary’s office dressed in a pale cream tracksuit.

“I take it he’s free. Can I go straight in?” Helen aimed to pass straight by Mrs. Coombes and avoid any awkward questions.

“Not for a moment, Helen. No, I’m afraid you can’t go in.”

“Oh, shit!” Helen turned, wondering whether to take a seat and wait or perhaps go out into the corridor and try again in a few minutes.

“Helen! That sort of language won’t do you any good if Mr. Jamieson hears you. I believe you’re in enough trouble as it is.”

“You know?” Helen looked down at the seated Mrs. Coombes, surprised the news had been told to her.

“Of course.” Mrs. Coombes smiled gently. “And I think you know what we have to do before you go in there, don’t you Helen?”

“Do?” Helen frowned as if to confirm her ignorance. Then it came to her. “Oh grief! Not that too.”

“I’m afraid so, Helen.”

The tall head girl sighed deeply, then went over to the seated school secretary and turned her back. Immediately, she felt Mrs. Coombes’ fingers tugging at the elastic waistband of the pale cream tracksuit bottoms.

“Hold on! Is that really necessary?” Helen almost shrieked as she felt her tracksuit trousers being taken right down to her ankles.

“You won’t be needing your trousers in there, Helen. Please step out of them.”

“Do I have to?” Helen wailed.

“Yes, you do. Come along now, we don’t want the headmaster standing around waiting for you to take your trousers off, do we?”

With another deep sigh, Helen kicked the trousers off her feet and waited while Mrs. Coombes picked them up, folded them carefully, and laid them on her desk.

“Hold on.” Mrs. Coombes called as Helen began to move away.

“What?” Helen turned her head, wondering what else was needed.

“I still need to check.” Mrs. Coombes explained.

“Check what?” Helen looked confused. Then she realized. “Oh, good grief!”

With a shrug of her shoulders, the head girl returned to the school secretary and turned her back. Immediately, the fingers that had pulled her trousers down a couple of minutes ago now plucked at the brief red athletics knickers that Helen had not worn for at least two years and consequently were now rather on the small size for her. Thankfully for Helen, though, the knickers were not pulled further down than was necessary for Mrs. Coombes to check she was wearing nothing underneath.

“I see you’re wearing knickers rather than shorts, Helen. Feeling brave?”

“Well, I was responsible for Vanessa Thornton only having knickers on rather than shorts when she got her whacking.”

“So you were, Helen. And I suppose it will make your apology to Vanessa somewhat easier if you can tell her you also were caned across your knickers, won’t it?”

“Apology? Oh, er, yes.”

“Very good.” Mrs. Coombes snapped the knickers back into place and gave Helen the customary pat on the bottom. “I should take a seat for a moment. I’m sure Mr. Jamieson will be free shortly.”

If Helen felt extremely awkward sitting opposite the school secretary in just her cream tracksuit jacket and red sports knickers, she felt ten times worse when the door sprang open and Nicky and Vanessa emerged from the headmaster’s study. They both glared coldly at Helen as they passed, but no words were exchanged.

“In you go, Helen.” Mrs. Coombes spoke even before Nicky and Vanessa had closed the door behind them on their way out of the secretary’s office.

Helen took a deep breath and tapped on the Headmaster’s door.

“Ah, Helen. All ready for you.” Mr. Jamieson turned from looking out of the window.

“Yes sir.” Helen sighed. “So I see.” The head girl, her hands clasped behind her back, stood in front of the large desk looking down at the polished surface that had been cleared of all the usual paperwork, then at the long slender cane that rested against the headmaster’s chair.

“Ready when you are, Helen.” Mr. Jamieson waved a hand towards the end of the desk nearest the window.

“Right.” Helen kept her fingers entwined behind her back, her hands resting on the soft material of her tight red athletics knickers, as she stepped dutifully round to face the end of the desk, her back now towards Mr. Jamieson.

“Bend over?” The head girl turned her head towards the headmaster as she enquired.

“If you please, Helen.”

Helen bent at the waist, her long legs kept straight. She rested her elbows on the hard wooden surface and lowered her head until it hovered barely half an inch above the desk. Then, with a definite movement, she straightened her back forcing her bottom to swell and strain within the confines of her brief red knickers. Looking to the side, Helen saw Mr. Jamieson pick up the cane and flex it between his hands.

“I’m sorry it had to come to this, Helen.”

“I suspect I shall be even sorrier in a few minutes, sir.”

Mr. Jamieson chuckled quietly at the head girl’s humor. “Hold still.”

Helen braced herself as she felt the tip of the thin whippy cane touch her gently across the soft material that strained to cover her bottom.

In a deft and well-rehearsed movement, the headmaster drew the cane back and whipped it down across the waiting target until it cracked across Helen’s backside.

“Ouch! Grief, that smarts.” Helen screwed her eyes up as she felt the scorching stinging cut across both buttocks.

“That is the point of the exercise, Helen.” Mr. Jamieson drew back the cane as he spoke. With a swift movement of his arm, the headmaster lashed the second stroke down across Helen’s thinly clad bottom.

“Eesh!” the head girl snatched her head back as she felt the sore red pain shooting across her backside. “Oooooh!” Helen gulped a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

“Keep still please, Helen.” Mr. Jamieson demanded as the eighteen year old bent one leg and then the other in an attempt to ease the soreness.

“Sorry, sir.” Helen immediately braced her legs straight and stuck her bottom out.

In response, Mr. Jamieson rapidly drew the cane back and sent another swishing stroke down to land with a sharp crack against the soft target of Helen’s red knickers.

“Oooooww!!” Helen yelled, again bending her knees one at a time to try and mitigate the sharp stinging sensation that spread across her backside.

Mr. Jamieson gave the head girl a few moments to hold herself still, then tapped the cane lightly across her brief red knickers.

“Bottom out!”

Helen immediately flattened her back and forced her bottom back. Her action was promptly followed by Mr. Jamieson drawing the cane back and whistling the cane down until it culminated in another sharp crack across the head girl’s waiting backside.

“Ooooch!!” Helen wriggled her bottom again. “Pheeeew!!” She gasped, as yet another searing pain shot across her already sore bottom, then added in a dry croaky voice: “Steady on, sir.”

“This is a punishment, Helen.” Mr. Jamieson reminded his head girl. “This is not just a token few whacks to placate Vanessa and Nicky, you know.”

“No sir.” Helen was in no doubt this was a punishment; her burning sore bottom paid testimony to that.

After a brief pause, Helen felt the tip of the cane lightly tapping against the seat of her red knickers. She forced her bottom out and held tight. Another brief pause, and then the head girl heard the whoosh of air as the cane was whipped down against the soft material that stretched across her bottom.

“Eeeeeesh!!” As Helen arched her back against the pain of the stroke, she breathed in and out several times in rapid succession. “That hurt!” She said to no-one in particular. She began to move a hand back to soothe her poor injured bottom, but Mr. Jamieson saw and tapped her hand away with the tip of the cane.

“Sorry, Helen. Not allowed!”

The head girl glanced towards the headmaster, her expression half anger and half fear; angry because she had been prevented from massaging away some of the raw soreness that covered the entire surface of her bottom, and fear because she knew there was still one more stroke to take.

“Sorry, sir. My backside is just so sore.”

“That, I’m afraid, is also the purpose of this exercise, Helen.”

“Of course, sir. I suppose…”

“Yes, Helen?”

“I suppose the last one will be the worst, sir. Will it?”

“It is traditional, Helen.” Mr. Jamieson smiled sympathetically. “Ready when you are.”

The head girl took a deep breath as she prepared herself for the final ordeal. She straightened her long legs and eased her head down close to the desktop, causing her bottom to stretch the red athletics knickers tightly across her bottom. When she felt the tip of the cane touching her bottom, she braced herself.

Mr. Jamieson looked down and saw Helen had her eyes tightly shut and her teeth clenched. Turning his attention to the head girl’s firm round bottom clothed in the tight red athletics knickers that allowed the very lowest portions of the girl’s bottom cheeks to peek out, he selected his target, a line right across the very center of Helen’s knickers.

Taking a deep breath himself, Mr. Jamieson drew the cane carefully back, further back than he had done for the previous five strokes, and paused. Sensing the electric atmosphere that pervaded the room, the headmaster forced yet more air into his lungs, then sent the cane hurtling down towards that part of the girl’s bottom upon which his eyes focused. The cane landed with a mighty crack that echoed round the room and whipped the girl across the bottom with such force the cane was almost snatched from the headmaster’s grasp.

“Eeeeeesh!! Oh God!!” Helen arched her back as she gripped the sides of the desk for all she was worth. Her eyes, clenched tightly shut though they were, watered and the tears ran down the sides of her face. She froze, allowing the pain to spread across her entire bottom, and waited long, long moments for its intensity to abate. Eventually, she felt able to take short breaths and to slowly open her eyes to the reality of the room around her. When her breathing became longer and deeper, Helen looked around for the headmaster.

“Thank you, Helen. You may get up.” As Helen straightened herself, she turned round and faced the window, her hands cupping her sore buttocks as her fingers carefully explored the raised ridges that crossed in straight lines over the entire surface of her bottom. Mr. Jamieson merely placed the cane down on the top of his desk and sat down, leaning back in his chair as he patiently waited for Helen to go through the motions of soothing her sore bottom.

It took three and a half minutes for Helen to sufficiently recover from the effects of her punishment before she felt able to turn again and face her headmaster.

“A tissue, Helen?” Mr. Jamieson took a box from a drawer of his desk and offered the box out to the head girl.

“Thank you, sir.” Helen sobbed and tugged several paper hankies from the box. After dabbing at her eyes and blowing her nose, she took a deep breath. “Sorry sir, but that last one was really awful.”

“Quite so, Helen. Quite so. Still, at least we have this whole unpleasant business behind us.”

“Yes, sir.” Helen answered doubtfully.

“Take my advice, Helen. You’ve had your punishment, now go and make it up with Nicky and Vanessa. I’m sure you’ll all be the best of friends again.”

“Yes, sir.” Helen still sounded dubious. At last, she was able to think beyond the confines of the headmaster’s study. Now, she wondered whether this really was the end of her ordeal. “May I go now?”

“Of course, Helen.”

“Thank you for everything, sir.” Helen walked unsteadily to the door, opened it and went through into the school secretary’s office. Mrs. Coombes looked anxiously up at her.

“Okay, Helen?”

“I won’t sit down for a week, but otherwise okay.” The head girl risked a weak smile.

“Cold cream, Helen. It works wonders!” Mrs. Coombes returned the smile.

“You know, do you?” Helen smiled again, a little more easily this time. “Can I have my trousers now, please?”

“Ah, I’m afraid I don’t have them, Helen.”

“Oh, really?”

“No, Vanessa thought you might be too sore to wear them, so she took them back to your room for you.” Mrs. Coombes forced a serious expression to her face.

“Oh? That was nice of Vanessa, wasn’t it?” Helen responded. “I’d better be off then.”

Helen left the secretary’s office and looked both ways up and down the corridor outside. Surprised to find it quite empty, she set off for her room. Turning a corner, she discovered Vanessa and Nicky and several of the other sixth form girls pretending to read notices on the walls of the corridor. None of them spoke as she passed, although all turned to look and stare after the head girl. Helen felt their eyes examining her backside for the tell-tale signs of her caning.

After passing Vanessa and Nicky, Helen paused and turned back to them.

“Would you two like to come along to my room in a few minutes? I’d like to apologize to you for my behavior. I’ll get the coffee on, and I’ve some splendid Dundee cake my parents sent me.”

Vanessa and Nicky looked at each other, somewhat taken aback by Helen’s friendly demeanor.

“Okay.” Vanessa answered for both of them.

“Good! See you in a few minutes then. Bring some of the others, if you want to.”

When Helen was out of earshot, Vanessa spoke. “I’d really like to pull those knickers down and have a good look at her bum. It wouldn’t surprise me one little bit if ‘old Jamie’ just gave her a token dose to keep us quiet.”

“No, I could see the marks, Vanessa. She really got a hiding.” Nicky looked along the corridor. “Anyway, we don’t do that sort of thing in the sixth form, do we?”

“I think we might introduce it just for Helen. I think we might.”

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