EMMA AT SCHOOL 24

Back At School

The next day, Emma and Deborah sat next to each other in the assembly which always began the new half-term.  The headmaster, Mr Critchley , ran through the usual boring stuff but the two girls, like the other pupils, began to listen intently when he started to talk about classroom discipline.  "Over the past year or so, I have had a number of complaints from parents, and a few from pupils too, about a small number of young people who severely disrupt lessons on a regular basis."

Several heads swung round to look meaningfully at Deborah who grinned smugly.  No one was in any doubt that if the head had a list, she was on it.

"Something that is brought to my attention repeatedly is the severe limitations on the punishment that teachers are allowed to use in the classroom.  Several people, again pupils among them, have suggested that there are those of you who consider a paddling over your knickers an insufficient deterrent.  It has also been pointed out that it is difficult to give a maximum spanking of forty strokes and maintain the flow of the lesson."

There were murmurs around the hall.  It was beginning to become clear what was coming.

"I am therefore minded to consider two measures," the head continued.  "The first is to relax the restrictions upon class teachers and to allow them to dispense bare-bottom punishment and/or to permit the use of the tawse, and possibly even the cane in the classroom."

This time there was more than a murmur as girls, and the few boys present, reflected on the effect that the proposed change would have.  Deborah, looking rather subdued now, had little doubt that the amendments would affect her.  At least one teacher, Mr Rooney who taught biology, had told her in front of her classmates that he wished he were allowed to pull down her knickers and cane her bare bottom.  At the time, Deborah had laughed at him and managed to take twenty strokes with his wooden paddle without crying out once.

Now Deborah found herself closing her eyes involuntarily and picturing herself standing before Mr Rooney's blackboard with her knickers around her thighs and her skirt held up by a classmate while the teacher (and in her imagination HE was now laughing) swung a vicious looking cane at her unprotected bottom.

"The second measure which might be thought appropriate would be to raise the absolute limit of the punishment available to classteachers from the present level of 40Pp (for those readers who have forgotten - that means 40 strokes of the paddle through the offender's knickers) to, say, 8Cb and that of house tutors to 10Cb.  This would bring the maximums for all teachers above the present level for house captains who are, after all, pupils themselves.

"I am reluctant to take this decision lightly.  After all, we generally try to allow pupils to maintain some dignity when being punished.  This is clearly difficult if a teenage girl is receiving a caning with her knickers round her knees in front of her friends.  If the measures are introduced, teachers will be advised to use such punishments after the rest of the class has left the room, unless they consider immediate chastisement necessary to maintain good order, and no pupils shall receive the new punishments unless they have already received at least three paddlings in the normal way from the teacher concerned in the course of that academic year.

"My intention is to conduct advisory ballots among staff, parents and pupils on these measures and to make my decision after reviewing the results.  You parents will be sent a ballot form today.  Pupils will be able to vote at evening call tomorrow.  That is all." With his familiar sign off, the assembly was over and the headmaster walked quickly down the steps and out of the hall, leaving the other teachers on duty to calm the buzzing now growing in the hall.  "It's outrageous," Deborah was fuming to those around her.  "They can't introduce a rule like that.  Think of what that bastard, Mr Denby would do with it."

Georgina, one of Emma and Deborah's classmates looked thoughtful.  "Well you would be worried Debs," she smiled.  "It's not as if it's going to affect most of us, is it?"

"You don't mean you're going to vote for this thing do you?" "Some of us get pretty pissed off at you and your cronies when lessons get obliterated, actually," another girl, Melanie, interjected.  "I'm going to vote for it!"

The group separated quickly as the hall cleared.  "God, Emma," Deborah said anxiously as she and her friend left the hall arm in arm.  "We have GOT to stop this thing!"

Deborah guessed that it was the parents' ballot which would carry the most weight with the head and she made her plans accordingly.  The following week, at the special assembly called to announce the head's decision, she was quietly confident.  Being picked as a volunteer ballot scrutineer had been a wise move, she congratulated herself.

"Good morning," the headmaster began.  "I do not plan to drag this assembly out.  We all have lessons to get to.  The ballot results were as follows:

Teachers: 95% in favour of change, 3% against, 2% don't know." There were muted cheers distinctly audible from the gallery where most of the teachers sat.

"Pupils...." the head paused for a moment. "Pupils: 54% in favour of change, 42% against, 4% don't know."

This time the noise came from the pupils as much as the teachers.  Talk about turkeys voting for Christmas, Deborah thought to herself.  Oh well, there was still the parents' ballot result.

"And finally," the head intoned, "parents: 86% in favour of change, 7% against and 7% don't know."

"No!" Deborah spluttered, pleased to find her tactless outburst covered by the noise which greeted the announcement.

"I therefore..." the head continued, motioning for silence.  "I therefore have decided that the rules shall be changed as moved in the ballot with immediate effect.  That is all."

He began to march down the steps and then suddenly stopped.  "Ah yes," he said, the hint of a gleam in his eye.  "I should like to see all parental ballot scrutineers in my office at 6pm sharp.  Good morning." With that he was gone and Deborah felt a growing sickness in the pit of her stomach.  As the sensation grew, she bolted for the door and just made it to the bushes outside before emptying her breakfast over the greenery.  "What went wrong?" she asked herself.  She had used her position in the scrutineers' team to get to the ballot papers before they were counted.  Painstakingly she had substituted most of the "yes" votes with "no" votes using the spare pupils' ballot forms which looked identical.  She couldn't understand the result - unless the head had just made it up?  She'd have to wait until six.

All through the day, Deborah could sense a feeling of intense satisfaction among the teachers whose lessons she most often disrupted.  She knew that many of them would use the new rule against her given any opportunity (there were only, perhaps, two of her regular teachers who had not, as the new rule required, given her three paddlings during the year) and she carefully ensured that she gave them no excuse, even swatting up during lunchtime for her maths test.

Only one girl in any of Deborah's classes fell foul of the new regulations, a quiet girl called Sue.  Mme Jospin, who had always (as Deborah knew well) felt the school over-lenient in the area of classroom punishments, had decided in advance that any pupil who failed to recite the poem they had been set to learn would pay the new higher penalty and she told the class so at the outset of the lesson.

She was rather sad that it was Sue who made the only major hash of her recitation rather than, for example, Deborah, but Sue had chalked up the necessary three paddlings (she was, although a pleasant child, very poor at organising her homework) and Mme Jospin could therefore hardly make an exception.

"Leave your skirt on your desk and come here, girl!" the teacher demanded.  Tears already beginning to flow, the fifteen-year old did as she was told, walking up to the front of the class in only her blouse and knickers, aware of the eyes (four of them male) following her progress with a mixture of sympathy and relief that it was her and not them facing a humiliating spanking.

"This is what you should expect in my class in future if your work is unsatisfactory," the teacher explained, removing a heavy leather tawse from her desk and cracking it against her hand, sending a shudder through the watching children and causing an increase in Sue's weeping.  "Stop snivelling, girl," Mme Jospin demanded with irritation.  "There will be plenty to cry about shortly.  Lie over this stool, legs straight out behind you and your hands holding the rung there." Slowly, the girl took up the precarious position required by the teacher and lay there helpless as the woman's hands took hold of her navy blue knickers and slipped them in a businesslike way down to her thighs.  Then she took up the tawse in her right hand, bent Sue's right arm behind her back with her left and told the class that six hard strokes would be the normal punishment for shoddy work.

"You will count them, please Sue."

WHACKKK!  "One!" the girl screeched, a bright red stripe immediately appearing where the leather had struck.

Deborah could think of only three girls, besides her and Emma, who had been subjected to house publics.  One or two pupils, she knew, had been beaten by their house captains or by housemasters or housemistresses in a semi-public way - bullies, for example, were usually caned before their victims.  Yet here was a generally well-behaved girl being subjected to a humiliating and extremely painful bare-bottom strapping in front of a whole class for poor homework!  There would certainly soon be a great increase in the number of pupils whose bare bottoms had been displayed to her (or his) fellow students.  Displayed and well-reddened!"

Sue was not made to keep her bare bottom on display after her beating which meant that her ordeal was less awful than it might have been.  She could not, however, stem the flow of her tears - of embarrassment rather than simply pain - before the end of the lesson as she sat at her desk next to Deborah.

At six o'clock, Deborah, along with her fellow scrutineers, were summoned into the headmaster's office.  He looked extremely stern and all five girls, and the one boy, were understandably nervous.  "I imagine you were all rather surprised at the result of this ballot, were you?" he asked.

The youngsters nodded in unison.

"Why?"

"Well," Nigel explained in a trembling voice, "the results we got were...  different."

"Yes," the head agreed.  "Fortunately, I discovered by chance that the papers had been tampered with."  He stopped.  "You look surprised, Deborah?"

"Of course."  She felt herself reddening.  "Who would do that.  I mean, how?"

"Let's begin with how, shall we?" the head suggested.  "I was rather shocked by the percentages you gave me, so I had a look through the papers.  I noticed that some papers were a different size to others and a little investigation persuaded me that some of the papers purporting to be parents' votes were, in fact, marked on the ballot papers which the pupils used.  What happened to the real papers, I can only guess at.  I was easily able to remail the ballot explaining that there had been an administrative hitch.  I then took the precaution of counting the votes myself.  "As to who?  Well, I am certain of one thing only.  One or more of you six must have been responsible as you were the only people who had access to the papers.  I assume that you agree with that conclusion?" The six looked at each other in alarm, but none could refute the head's reasoning.

"In that case," the tall man facing them explained, "I would like the person or persons concerned to own up now.  You have one minute." With that the headmaster left his study and heard with satisfaction the row which broke out behind him.

"What if it's not one of us?" Deborah asked.  "What if someone else got into the room?"

Nigel eyed her suspiciously.  "You know it was one of us.  Mr Critchley knows it.  All we need is for whoever it was to own up cos I'm not taking the rap for them."

A minute later, when Mr Critchley returned, the argument was still raging.  "Enough!" he boomed.  "You will return at the same time tomorrow.  We will discuss the matter no further tonight.  Each of you strip, please." "But... everything?" Juliette stammered.

"Everything."

"Sir," Nigel began.  "I have an idea..."

"Not now," the head shot back.  Tomorrow you can all discuss it.  For now, I want your clothes off."

The six knew better than to argue with the headmaster.  As Deborah watched, Louise slipped her hands beneath her skirt and slid her knickers right down to her ankles, stepping out of them and then unbuttoning her blouse.  As she herself began to undress, Deborah wondered whether it was worse for Nigel or for the girls.  As he flushed red and pulled off his boxer shorts, however, she  found her answer.  Surrounded by five nubile, naked girls, physiology had got the better of him and the boy stood trying hard to hide his erection with his hands.

"Hands on your heads," Mr Critchley ordered, each of the six abandoning their attempted modesty.

"I am going to give each of you a simple spanking this evening," he explained.  "Tomorrow's punishment will be more severe and we will continue on a daily basis until I get a confession.  Louise, bend down and touch your toes!"

As Deborah looked on, her neighbour bent right down, her pussy (Louise knew) perfectly displayed for Nigel, and her bottom awaiting the headteacher's hand.

Thirty times he smacked her, the girl's cries a mixture of embarrassment and sharp pain, before sending her to stand in one corner of the room.  "Now you, Deborah."

Deborah adopted the familiar position, grasping her ankles and trying to relax her bottom.

SMACKK!  The headteacher's practised aim was perfect and his power formidable.  He often handspanked pupils rather than taking up his cane and girls and boys who had been spanked by him knew they had been spanked.  As the blows landed, Deborah gave in to the growing heat and began to shriek at each smack until the final blow was landed.  "Right, in that corner," Mr Critchley told her, pointing to another corner of the room.

"Nigel.  On my desk please on all fours."

Deborah guessed that the head had chosen this position on purpose to ensure his embarrassment matched that of the girls, his hard cock protruding from his well-developed body.  Deborah risked turning her head to watch as the head (who had his back to her) raised his hand to punish the boy with the same thirty spanks.  She rarely got to see boys having their bottoms smacked (apart from her brother) and didn't want to miss this opportunity.  Nigel made delightful squeals of pain as his bare bottom was soundly spanked and Deborah noticed that his erection was, if anything, still growing.  She turned back to the wall as the head reached twenty-five and only heard the boy being ordered to stand against the wall near her.  As Mr Critchley focused on his next assignment, Deborah and Nigel exchanged glances, Deborah smiling at the boy's cock standing up against the cold wall.  To the sound of Jill getting her bottom smacked, she closed her eyes and slipped a hand between her thighs, pushing her tits into the wall and making it clear to Nigel what she was doing.  Despite their predicament, and her sore bottom, the whole scene was sexually charged for her and she knew that Nigel would be ready for a good fuck afterwards.  She maintained her show during Christina's spanking and came quietly as the thirtieth smack approached, opening her eyes to find an extremely appreciative Nigel looking on and stroking his hardness.  "Juliette, I'll have you over my knee, I think," Mr Critchley said next.  "Surprise, surprise," Deborah thought.  Juliette was undoubtedly one of the most beautiful girls in the school and Deborah figured she'd make the same decision in the head's position.  He sat with his back to her once again so Deborah was able to watch the naked girl approach him and allow him to guide her over his lap, her perfectly proportioned behind seeming to Deborah to find its most divine position as Juliette consented to be punished for a crime she knew she did not commit.  In fact, Juliette had never received a bare bottom spanking for anything she had done in the school.  She was an extremely well mannered girl whose beauty was, in this respect, her downfall.  She had the kind of body people, male and female, wanted to undress and the kind of bottom people wanted desperately to spank.  And many people, despite the girl's good behavior, nevertheless found reasons to undress and spank her.  On this occasion, Juliette at least recognized that she was being spanked as fairly as most of her fellow scrutineers, although she couldn't help reflect, as the headteacher's hard hand began to fall heavily on her firm buttocks, that this chastisement had resulted from her genuine desire to help the school by volunteering for the duty which one of those present had clearly abused.

"Ohhh!  Nooohh!  Pleasssse!" she cried as her bottom seared with the spanking's heat, wondering if she should admit to the fraud just to avoid the promised series of punishments.

Once he had finished spanking Juliette (and, if the truth be told, looking forward to the chance of spanking her again in twenty-four hours) the head called the other five around, leaving the weeping girl over his knee.  During her punishment she had kicked her slim legs around and they now lay deliciously parted, pink pussy lips pouting at Nigel and Deborah, both of whose greedy eyes hungrily devoured the sight.

"Tomorrow, six pm," Mr Critchley said simply.  "Let's hope we have a solution by then.  You may get changed."

"Admit it - I'm not going through that again!" Nigel panted breathlessly into Deborah's ear thirty minutes later as he drove his aching cock deep into her behind the school chapel, leaning up against the wall with her legs wrapped tightly around him.

"And get a birching?" she answered, her climax nearing.  "Look, we all know it was you - you told us!" he spat, pushing himself in as far as possible in the final thrusts as their breathing quickened.  "And that makes you as guilty as me, doesn't it?" Deborah moaned, sure she could sense the warm splashing of cum inside the condom as they clung onto each other in this moment of intense pleasure.

"Why don't you let Mr Critchley decide that," he asked her.  "Think about owning up.  It's not fair on the rest of us," he continued as they pulled their clothing back into place."

"You knew what I was doing and you did nothing about it," Deborah replied, squeezing the boy's cock affectionately through his trousers.  "We're in it together!"

She kissed his mouth once more and then was gone, Nigel following after a discrete couple of minutes.

The next evening, the six again made their separate ways to the headmaster's house and rang the bell, each of them understandably nervous about the fate that awaited them.  Instead of ushering them into his study this time, Mr Critchley took them into the sitting room and explained that he would see them individually this time... unless any of them had anything to tell him?

"Sir," Juliette said, her voice shaking and her eyes full of tears.  "It wasn't me, sir.  Really."

"Well, I'm afraid that if that is true then because of someone else's failure to tell the truth, you are going to finish the day with a very sore backside.  Why don't you come in first."

With that, he took Juliette's hand and led her into his study, closing the door behind him.

"Come on, Deborah," Christina began as soon as the latch had clicked into place.  "Own up or we all get it!"

"Why me?" Deborah demanded hotly.

"Because you're the one who did it!" Louise snapped.  "Yes, I know we were there and didn't say anything.  And I'm prepared to admit that and take what's coming to me.  But you can't expect us to go through this every day."

The conversation was stopped by the sound of a spanking next door - or to be more accurate, by the sound of a bare bottom being repeatedly whacked with a solid object and a pitiful voice begging for mercy in between cries of anguish.

As soon as Mr Critchley had closed the door, Juliette had started begging him not to make her take all her clothes off.  He had not, in fact, planned to strip the six, but her pleas had the opposite effect to that intended.  "Very well," he said, "just strip to your underwear for now.  You may keep your shoes on."

Juliette's face registered the despair in her heart at the words and she began to argue.

"No arguments.  Now do as you're told girl before I increase your punishment!"

Obediently, the youngster removed her blouse and skirt, neatly laying them out on the desk as Mr Critchley indicated while he walked out into the middle of the room, pulled up a chair and sat down.  "You have rather a lot to learn about discipline, young lady," he began, leaning back in his chair thoughtfully and looking over the lovely sight of the fourteen year-old in knickers and a vest, her young breasts not yet large enough to require a bra (although she usually wore one, of course!) "Are you spanked at home?" the head asked.

"No.  Well, just once."

"I see.  Well you are going to be spanked very soundly now." He reached out next and took hold of Juliette's knickers, pulling the waistband away from her tummy and tugging them down.  Juliette was mortified at having her knickers removed in this way by the headmaster, flushing as he exposed her young pussy and finally dropped the now useless garment to the floor.

"Fetch me the table tennis bat from the desk please." Stepping out of her knickers, Juliette walked over to the table to retrieve the bat, trying to take small steps to avoid an even more explicit display.  When she returned, Mr Critchley took the bat from her and stood the half naked girl in front of him, enjoying the deep red flush in her cheeks.  Then, without warning, he wrapped his arms around her knees and lifted her into the air, resting her knees on his own lap so that her chest lay on his shoulder.

In this awkward, but intimate, position, he began to paddle the girl with the table tennis bat, whacking her naked rump over and over again and delighting in the sound of her cries as she squirmed exquisitely in his lap.  The more Juliette squealed and wriggled, of course, the harder the headmaster spanked her - this time not ceasing until he had delivered fifty strokes with the bat.

When he had finished, Mr Critchley stood the still sobbing young girl in front of him once again.

"Next time I call you for punishment, I don't want to hear pleas to not do this or that - is that understood?"

"Yes, Sir," the girl snivelled.

"Good.  Dress quickly and send in Deborah for me please." Outside, the others had counted the fifty smacks with falling hearts, and of course Deborah didn't even have an opportunity to ask about the implement used.  Not that it would have been valuable information, as it turned out.

"Good evening, Deborah."

"Good evening, sir."

"I think we'll have everything off from the waist down please."

"Yes, sir."

Deborah made short work of undressing, wanting to get things over with, but Mr Critchley was in no hurry.  He stood her before him in the centre of the room, aware of her embarrassment at standing naked before him and quite happy to enhance it.

Finally, the headmaster dragged a dining chair into the middle of the room and picked up a leather-bottomed slipper from the mantelpiece.  "I'm going to give you a taste of my slipper today, Deborah," he told her.

"I'd like you to come and lay over this chair, sideways... that's right.

Yes.  Good girl.  You're going to get fifty strokes.  Are you ready?"

"I guess so," Deborah replied and was rewarded at once by the first blow.  The only slipperings Deborah had had in the past had been from dormitory monitors and had never been particularly painful.  This was different though.

Mr Critchley's slipper was heavy and hard.  It fell upon Deborah's bare cheeks with as much of a thud as a crack and, before long, her bottom was bright red and the others could hear her screams from the next room.  "Serves her right!" Christina said.

"Yeah," Juliette agreed.  "I'm not going through that again tomorrow night, I tell you.  If she doesn't own up, I'll tell Mr Critchley" Another twenty four hours passed, yet for all six the time between seemed to contract into nothing and they found themselves back once more facing their headmaster across his study desk.  None of them failed to notice the long, thick cane lying on his desk in front of him.  "Does anyone have anything to say before I begin?" he asked.  Mr Critchley already had a good idea as to the main culprit and this was confirmed by the sly but noticeable glances shot at Deborah by the others.  Still, they remained silent.

"Very well.  I am going to cane each of you.  You will receive six strokes today, seven tomorrow and so on until I find out who is responsible for the crime.  Christina, you can go first today.  The rest of you stand where you are and watch."

Christina gave Deborah a last evil stare and then stepped forwards.  She reached down to her skirt on Mr Critchley's instruction and unzipped, letting the garment fall to the floor.  She then allowed the headmaster to walk her over to the wicker chair in the corner of the room by the packed bookshelves and bend her over it.

Finally, the man took hold of the girl's cotton knickers and drew them down to her thighs, placing one hand on her back and raising the cane high in the air.

"No!  Stop!"

Mr Critchley froze, his arm still poised to strike.  It was Deborah.

"Yes?"

The girl was weeping profusely but managed to collect herself.

"It was me... I did it."

"I see.  Alone?"

"Yes."

"And the rest of you knew nothing about this."

There was an awkward silence for a moment.  The headmaster stood Christina up and told her to face Deborah, the girl flushed with the conflicting emotions of the moment, and with her pussy on display.  "Did you know about what Deborah was doing, Christina?"

"Yes, sir."

"And why did you not report it?"

"I didn't... I mean, you just don't tell on people."

"Did you think what she was doing was wrong?"

"Well, like I knew it was wrong - but I kind of wanted her to do it."

"Does that describe the situation for the rest of you?" he demanded.

Louise, Nigel and Jill nodded.

"Juliette?"

"I didn't want her to," she whispered.

"But you didn't tell?"

Juliette shook her head.

"I see.  Does anyone think that they have been unfairly punished so far?"

No one spoke.

"Does anyone think they've been sufficiently punished?"

"That's not... it's not over?" Juliette stuttered.  "Juliette, you knew what was happening and did nothing to stop it.  That makes you an accessory.  Deborah herself is going to receive an extremely severe punishment.  The rest of you are still going to get a very good taste of my cane.  Is there anyone who thinks I'm being too harsh?" This time Juliette kept quiet.  Deborah's eyes had filled with tears at the first mention of what was going to happen to her.  He hadn't said so yet, but she felt sure she was headed for the birching tower.  "Good.  The five of you who were not directly involved need not return tomorrow.  However, you will each receive a full ten strokes on the bare bottom this evening.  Christina, get back in position please." Deborah watched as Christina presented her upturned behind once more and as this time, the headmaster's raised arm completed the first stroke, the cane whistling through the air and cracking loudly against her cheeks.  The waiting pupils had to stand still and listen to her screams of anguish, knowing they would soon take her place, their bottoms to be crudely striped in the same way that Christina's was becoming now.  Again, Mr Critchley left Juliette till last, Deborah not being punished with the others this time.

"I think, Juliette," the teacher began, "it is necessary to pursue you punishment in a slightly different way, isn't it?" "Yes, sir," the girl answered tearfully but determined to do the right thing.  I'm sorry about not taking my punishment properly before and..." "Yes?"

"And I think I should receive my caning in the nude." "Good girl," Mr Critchley agreed, watching then with the same fascination as her fellow pupils as the delightful teenager slowly disrobed.  Soon her perfectly proportioned breasts were freed and then she was slipping her tiny knickers down to leave herself completely naked.  "Stand there for a moment now while I talk to Deborah about her punishment."

Juliette's familiar blush returned instantly as she realised that the headteacher intended to leave her standing in the nude in front of the others and not to cane her immediately.  She tried to concentrate on what the man was saying.

"Deborah, I'm not going to expel you or suspend you for a number of reasons: principally because I'm not convinced that there would be any useful purpose served by doing so, and also because I think that such things are better dealt with through corporal punishment.  Do you know what punishment you are to receive?"

Tears flooding down her cheeks now, Deborah nodded.

"Well?"

"You're... you're going to birch me," she said in a hoarse voice.  "That's correct.  You will receive the same ten strokes as your colleagues, but with the birch.  You may nominate a friend to be with you.  Do you know who that will be?"

"Emma Denning," Deborah replied.

"Very well, I will send for her.  You will sleep in the tower tonight and receive your punishment at 9am tomorrow.  Do you have any questions?" "No," Deborah answered.  At least she would have Emma there to comfort her, if comfort in such circumstances was possible.  She closed her eyes.  People talked about birching as if it was the death penalty.  At that moment, it felt like it.

"Now Juliette, I'd like you to bend over this sofa arm for your beating please.  That's right, just here."

Mr Critchley manoeuvred the girl gently into exactly the posture in which he wanted her, and then lined up the cane across her raised flanks.  "One," he said, and brought the cane through the air with a swish to explode in a line of excruciating pain across the girl's right cheek.  "Ouuuuuwww!" she screamed, thinking she would die before ten of those had been delivered.

"Two!"

Again the cane flashed through the air and again a thin red line rose up on her naked flesh, this time both buttocks sharing the rod's wrath.  "Three!"

"Nooooooooo!!"  Juliette cried.  This was the most awful thing that had ever happened to her.  How could a school still use this kind of torture?  "Four!"

CRACKK!

"Please stop!!" she yelled.  "Please, I can't take any more!" "Very well," Mr Critchley said gently.  "I will stop there and you may return at the same time tomorrow to receive the final six." "Oh, no!  Please, I can't take more tomorrow, I....OW!!" The last sound resulted from a sharp slap of the headteacher's hand across the naked girl's tender rump.

"Do not argue with me girl.  You will be back here at six tomorrow and you can expect an additional measure for your rudeness.  Understood?" "Yes, sir," Juliette answered, rubbing her throbbing bottom and feeling very silly for having got herself into even more trouble.  "Right, get up and dress.  Deborah, you may make a list of what you need for an overnight stay, then you will accompany me to the tower."

Back to Jon's Favourites