Caned in Front of the School

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A tall girl with long brown hair stood up and, blushing as everybody looked towards her, walked out of the hall. Mrs Seaton kept me waiting for a long time, sobbing over her desk, my poor little bottom bouncing up and down as I awaited the last stroke. Finally it came. Another real stinger across the centre of my bottom. I howled out in pain again, but still kept a grip on that desk. I didn't want to earn extra strokes now! Fletcher, Woods. You both know why you are here. Let me tell you I am disgusted! Smoking is one of the worst habits there is, and neither the school rules nor I myself have any tolerance for it. And you two won’t either, when I am done with you.” Sitting at my desk, sipping my tea in silence, I went over the list of pupils that still were outside. One pupil from year 10. Two pupils from year 11. And two seniors from year 12. Two of those five, Jenny Woods from 10B and Caroline Fletcher from 12A had been caught smoking. Even if she did not know it yet this earned those two the honour of being put to the end of the line. Wilhelmsen International Institute had a strict non-smoking policy, the girls were in for exemplary and severe punishment.

Trembling with fear, I walked into the office. I saw a cane, about three feet long, lying on the teacher's desk. Perhaps you do not know that almost from my infancy it was arranged that I should marry the Earl of Ellington, who was about twelve years my senior, being a family compact of a purely mercenary character, designed to consolidate some very doubtful title deeds, which now that our union has proved unfruitful, are likely to entail great expense and annoyance to our heirs-at-law. Next one’ was Florence Lafleur. Ten years old, sent for repeated tardiness. As she entered, she already looked terrified. I could see it was not only her first time here, in her four years at the institute, she had never been punished. Of course, she feared what lay ahead. A nine-year old boy entered. Slim in appearance, with blond hair and pale skin, he slowly walked up to my desk. I noticed that his uniform was neat and tidy.As a senior, he wore long trousers along his shirt and blazer. The uniform, at least, was immaculate, the school tie almost bound to perfection. In a way, he looked more like a young man, not like a schoolboy. But he was a schoolboy, and he would find out what that meant soon enough. Observing her from afar, her beauty and understated power, the calm authority that Miss Sternwood exuded so effortlessly, had frequently given him butterflies in his tummy. But here and now, in such close proximity, the scent of her hair, a delicate hint of her perfume as she moved, and an inexplicable intimacy of seeing her casual handling of the terrible cane, suddenly provoked a discernable twitch below his waistline. He shifted awkwardly, self-consciously adjusting his blazer and opening his mouth to speak, but found himself at a loss for words.

As a headmistress, I know that there are things that cannot be solved by corporal punishment. Girls like Jenny Woods needed strict discipline, yes, but a good thrashing was only one part of that. And by just letting her off with another good dose of the cane, I knew, I wouldn’t get the full message across. I don't like being forced to repeat myself Attwood," she warned with an imperious stare. "Do as you are told." I went to the toilet, walked upstairs and got a clean handkerchief, changed my tee shirt, threw myself onto the bed, got up again, looked at my watch again, and decided it was time to go. At last all was quiet, and having now been left more than half-an-hour to myself in the schoolroom, I ventured to tap at the door and beg Miss Birch to let me into her room, as I would never, never, offend again.Only when his eyes turned to meet Miss Sternwood's implacable gaze did he experience an unforgettable moment of sheer horror. Instinctively glancing down at his fully exposed nakedness, he promptly apologised, leaning forward once again into the prescribed posture. Well, they will let you. I will give you a letter telling them so. And if they won’t, come to me at any time.” Well, you are guessing right, Woods. And it is part of what I will do. School rules allow me a maximum of a dozen strokes, which you will receive. “Jenny Woods cheeks reddened, her eyes became large. She was showing fear now.