A Head Girl exceeds her authority and has to pay the price. A story from the old site.

by Kenny Walters

“I think he should have caned you.” The tall, leggy, blonde girl leaned against the door, her casual attire of faded blue jeans and darker blue blouse doing nothing to remove her natural air of authority.

“Oh, thanks a bunch Veronica!” The shorter dark haired girl retorted, uncertain whether her friend had made the remark in jest.

“It would have set a better example for the school, Sara.”

“Sod the school, Veronica! Think what it would have done to my bottom! Coffee?”

“Please.” Veronica Appleby watched as her friend poured water and coffee into the filter machine. “So, what was it you got?”

“Two separate two-hour detentions.” Sara switched the filter machine on. “Tonight and Thursday night.”

Veronica looked at her watch; it was twenty past three. “Better not take too long over the coffee, Sara, you’ve only got forty minutes.”

“That’s plenty of time. Do you know who is taking the sixth form detention class tonight?”

“Miss Redvers is scheduled, I think. Thanks.” Veronica took the cup of coffee. “Don’t forget you’ll need to change into uniform.”

“This should do, I am still a prefect after all.” Sara looked down at her tight black leggings and white blouse.

“Not for detention, Sara.” Veronica drained her cup. “You need a tie and blazer. Must dash.”

Sara took the empty cup her friend handed to her and watched as Veronica left the prefects’ common room. “And to think you were so nice before they made you Head Girl!” The comment was made when Veronica Appleby was safely out of earshot.

At four minutes to four Sara Tomlinson, wearing her prefects’ tie and sixth form blazer in addition to her black leggings and white blouse, approached Room 37, a small classroom at the end of a long corridor which was now used more or less solely for sixth form detention sessions.

“Hi’ Andrea! Didn’t expect to see you here.”

Andrea Hopkins, a moderately pretty girl with long thick light brown hair looked up from one of the four front desks. She grimaced. “I’ve been a naughty girl again!”

“What was it this time?”

“Failing to hand my A-level course work in on time.”

“How late?”

“Two weeks. Despite the odd reminder or three.” Andrea grimaced again.

“Two weeks? I bet that didn’t go down too well. You can get a detention for being one day late, let alone two weeks! Two hours?”

“Yep.” Then, as Sara sat down at the desk beside her, Andrea added: “I hear you got four hours. Back Thursday for another two?”

“Grief! Has word got round so soon?”

“Certainly has. You were luck…”

“Silence! There is to be no talking at all. This is a detention session!”

Both Andrea and Sara froze. Whilst Andrea appeared suitably chastened, Sara cast her eyes to the ceiling.

“Stand up, both of you!”

The two eighteen year olds scraped their chairs on the wooden classroom floor as they got to their feet. Andrea stood stiffly, looking straight ahead of her, while Sara adopted a more slouching pose and looked sullenly away from the new arrival.

“Stand up straight, Sara!”

Sara stiffened her stance too, her eyes easily betraying her contempt for the commanding voice.

“Right. You may be seated.” As the two girls sat down they found several sheets of paper and two ballpoint pens being placed on the desktops in front of them. “You need something to occupy your time here. We’ll begin with some lines. One hundred times: ‘As sixth form girls I really should be setting a much better example for the others.’”

“I thought Miss Redvers was supposed to be taking this detention session, Veronica.” Sara ignored the items that had just been placed on her desk.

“Being the kindly person that I am, Sara, I offered to take her place.” Veronica Appleby smiled insincerely. “No objections, I hope.”

“Oh no, Veronica.” Sara returned the smile with one of her own, equally lacking in genuineness.

“Good! You may start writing.”

Andrea picked up her pen and began writing. Sara paused, but soon followed suit when she saw Andrea complying with Veronica’s instruction. Veronica sat at the teacher’s larger desk and watched them until, after about ten minutes, she became bored with the tedium and decided a little supervision was now called for.

Walking up one aisle, beside Andrea Hopkins, Veronica turned and looked down at the tallish girl, at her long flowing light brown hair, at her red and grey striped sixth form blazer and her neatly pressed black trousers. By now, Andrea had nearly completed half of one large sheet of paper.

“Not an interesting exercise, being in detention, is it Andrea?”

“No Veronica.” Andrea answered politely, taking her eyes off her work just long enough to acknowledge the head girl’s presence.

Continuing her patrol of the two detainees, Veronica walked slowly back to the front of the rows of desks, went round in front of Andrea’s and Sara’s desks and up the aisle next to Sara. Again, she turned and looked down at the girl writing her lines.

“Doesn’t really work, does it Sara?”

“I’m sorry?” Sara, who had completed only one third of the page of lines she was writing, stopped and looked up.

“Leggings and a blazer, darling. Leggings and a blazer. Don’t really go well together, do they?”

“Possibly not, Veronica.” Sara replied quietly. “However, they do comply with the school rules and this isn’t exactly a high spot of the school year, is it?”

“Stand up!”

A little shaken by the sudden loud voice, Sara got to her feet, scraping her chair noisily on the wooden floor.

“This is not the place or the time for sarcasm, Miss Tomlinson!” Veronica, almost six inches taller than Sara, stood uncomfortably close to the prefect. “Go out to the front and stand facing the blackboard.”

With a deep sigh, Sara did as she had been instructed and faced the wall- mounted blackboard, her nose just an inch or two from it.

“Hands on your head!”

“What? Veronica!”

“Just do it!” The Head Girl snapped.

With another sigh, Sara raised her arms and placed her hands, palms down, on top of her head, interlocking her fingers together.

“No need to stop writing, Andrea.” Veronica said before she returned to the front of the classroom and stood close to Sara. “This detention session can be hard or very hard, Sara. The choice is yours.”

“Don’t you think this is all, well, a bit childish, Veronica?” Sara spoke with deliberate restraint.

“Does that mean you’re ready to go back to your place and get on with writing your lines, properly and without the sarcastic comments, Sara?”

“Yes, Veronica.” Sara answered meekly.

“Very well, go back to your desk.”

With Sara back at her place behind the small school desk, Veronica returned to the teacher’s desk and sat down, keeping a steady eye on her watch. When forty-five minutes since the beginning of the detention session had elapsed, she spoke again to the two eighteen year olds.

“Stop writing.”

Andrea and Sara immediately ceased writing and put their pens down on their desks.

“Sara! Bring me the lines Andrea and you have written.”

Sara took a deep breath which she was about to release in a deep meaningful sigh, before she thought better of it. Standing, she took the three sheets of paper that Andrea handed to her, added them to her own two sheets, and took the combined work to the front of the classroom where Veronica sat behind the teacher’s desk waiting for her.

“Thank you, Sara.”

Sara barely had time to return to her place before Veronica bellowed out: “Not many lines for the time spent on them, wouldn’t you say Sara?”

“I’m sorry, Veronica?” Sara pretended not to comprehend.

“In forty-five minutes, Sara, you’ve not quite managed to complete two sheets of lines. That’s about sixty-five lines, Sara. Andrea, in the same time, has almost been able to complete her hundred lines.”

“Ah but, if you remember Veronica, I was interrupted in my work by having to spend some time away from my desk.” The tone of Sara’s voice betrayed the sarcasm rather than a desire to simply inform.

“Obviously not long enough for you to learn some discipline, Sara! Resume the position!”

“What?”

“You heard! Stand in front of the blackboard now! And get your hands on your head!”

“Oh, for God’s sake!” Sara muttered under her breath as she got up and walked slowly to the front of the classroom.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing, Veronica.” Sara replied, still not quite having reached the blackboard.

“Yes you did, Sara. Yet another display of indiscipline, girl!” Veronica paused as she watched Sara arrive at the blackboard and raise her arms to entwine her fingers on top of her dark hair. “For goodness sakes, you’re a prefect! You shouldn’t be here at all! And we certainly shouldn’t have to endure your shocking display of bad behaviour!”

Sara remained standing, her nose to the blackboard, hands on her head. A telling glance away from the Head Girl continued to show her contempt.

“Very well, Sara.” Veronica noticed the display of disrespect. “After you have been standing there for ten minutes, you will receive three strokes of the slipper.”

“What?” Sara looked towards the Head Girl in astonishment.

“You heard, Sara. And if we get any more examples of your arrogance I shall have no hesitation in sending you away from this detention session.”

Sara took a deep breath.

“You appreciate what that would mean, don’t you Sara?” Veronica added.

“Yes, Veronica.” Sara turned back to face the blackboard, standing with her hands on her head and without offering any further argument. She knew she had no option other than to comply with the Head Girl’s every instruction, for to be sent away from the detention session would mean a visit to the headmaster’s study, and that could have much more painful consequences!

“Andrea!” Veronica Appleby turned to the girl still seated at her desk, who had remained totally silent throughout the Head Girl’s dealings with Sara Tomlinson, but had carefully observed the entire proceedings. “I think we’ll have you with your hands on your head too, but you may remain seated at your desk.”

As Andrea Hopkins obeyed immediately, Veronica smiled in satisfaction at the power she was able to exert even over this sixth form girl. She added for good measure: “You will remain like that until the completion of the first hour when I shall give Sara her dose of the slipper.”

Briefly, while Veronica Appleby’s back was turned, Sara looked round and grinned broadly at the sight of Andrea sitting meekly with her hands on her head, then instinctively stuck her tongue out at Andrea.

Veronica, conscious of something going on between the two other girls, looked round towards Sara, who had returned to facing the blackboard just in time. Then the Head Girl quickly looked back at Andrea, just in time to catch her sticking her tongue out at Sara.

“Andrea! I don’t want to have to slipper you both!”

Andrea hastily withdrew her tongue and sat looking suitably chastened. Veronica, meanwhile, diverted her attention to Sara, who remained with her nose to the blackboard looking quite innocent. That still did not prevent the Head Girl delivering a sharp smack with the flat of her hand to Sara’s bottom.

“Ouch!” Sara exclaimed. “What was that for?”

“I just felt like it, Sara.” Veronica answered before returning to the teacher’s desk.

Ten minutes later, Veronica looked at her watch. It was five o’clock. Immediately, she reached down to the bottom drawer of the desk and delved inside. Her hand re-emerged holding a large navy blue plimsoll.

“Thank you, Andrea.” Veronica called across to the seated girl. “You may lower your hands now.”

The Head girl stood up, with Sara looking round and apprehensively observing her every move. She stood to the side of the teacher’s desk, directly in front of the small school desk behind which Andrea sat. “Sara! Come here, please!”

Sara removed her hands from her head and turned round. It took just four steps for her to be standing in the rather small space between Veronica and Andrea’s desk. Clearly, the Head Girl was intending Andrea should have a close up view of Sara receiving her punishment with the slipper.

“Bend over!”

Sara, knowing she had little alternative but to comply, bent over and touched her toes, surrendering herself as ready to take her punishment. Veronica, though, was determined to extract every last ounce of humiliation at the expense of her sixth form colleague, and took her time folding back Sara’s blazer so the seat of her tight black leggings was fully exposed.

Only when fully satisfied the blazer would not fall back into place and spoil the punishment did Veronica step half a pace back and grip the slipper firmly in her right hand.

“Ready?”

“Yes, Veronica.” Sara’s voice sounded somewhat constrained as the dark haired girl struggled to maintain the position of touching her toes.

Veronica swung the slipper well back, then brought it forward with ever increasing speed until the rubber soled plimsoll struck Sara sharply across the centre of her small round bottom. The dark haired girl flinched as she felt the slipper slam into her backside and she swallowed in her cheeks as she experienced the pain of the blow.

For a few moments, Sara’s fingers had lost contact with the tips of her shiny black shoes but, sensing Veronica was poised to deliver the next stroke, the dark haired girl dutifully reached again for her footwear.

Moments later, the next stroke came hurtling down.

“Oooh!” Sara exclaimed, as the rubber soled slipper crashed across the tightly stretched seat of her black leggings.

“Hold still!” Veronica demanded as Sara’s fingers once again left the tips of her shoes.

Sara reached down and just made contact with her footwear before the third and final stroke cracked down across her bottom.

“God!” Sara swore as she felt the final, and hardest, stroke smack into her backside.

“Stand up!” Veronica commanded.

Sara slowly unfolded herself from her bending position and gingerly felt her bottom.

“Back to your desk!” As Sara turned, she felt a hand smack her once more across the seat of her tight black leggings. “And don’t swear!”

Sara turned, her face a picture of astonishment. She thought briefly about remonstrating with Veronica, then decided this was not a good time and sat down behind the small school desk.

“Okay, girls.” Veronica continued as though nothing had happened. She continued to hold the slipper in both hands. “That’s one hour done. Now for the next hour.” She paused to watch the effects of her words on the two girls.

Both looked back at her with blank expressions.

“Now, we can continue as we did with the first hour with some lines for you to do.”

Sara continued with her blank expression, but Andrea’s face noticeable fell at the prospect of writing out more childish lines.

“Or, either of you may avoid the second hour of detention with the traditional solution. One whack for each quarter of an hour.”

“Veronica, we are sixth form girls.” Sara reminded the Head Girl of a fact she was certainly aware.

“So you are, Sara. So you are. I’m not sure either of you have behaved like sixth form girls, though. Otherwise you wouldn’t be in detention in the first place, would you?”

“Possibly. But we are sixth form girls, Veronica, and you should not be subjecting us to these, well, childish punishments.”

“I’m only giving you both the option, Sara. You have a completely free choice. I’m perfectly happy to supervise you for another hour if you prefer.”

“I do, thank you!” Sara retorted with feeling.

“Fine.” Veronica replied. “Better behave yourself, though. It would be a shame to earn yourself another slippering as well as serving the second hour, wouldn’t it?”

“Now, do you both want me to give you some lines to do?” Veronica patted the sole of the slipper against the palm of her left hand as she spoke, her eyes looking directly at Andrea.

“All right!” Andrea got to her feet, a bemused smile on her face. “I’ll take the slipper.”

“As you wish, Andrea.” With a wave of her hand, the Head Girl indicated the spot that Sara had occupied a few minutes ago when she had received her slippering.

Andrea, a tall girl, almost as tall as Veronica, got to her feet and, smiling coyly, went round the small desk until she stood sideways on to the Head Girl. She looked behind her but Sara, sitting at the next desk along, appeared quite uninterested in the proceedings.

“Bend over, Andrea!”

Losing the bashful smile, Andrea leaned over and continued down until she too was able to touch her toes, something she clearly found easier to do than Sara. As soon as she was in position, though, Andrea found her shy smile again especially when she looked back at Sara who had now begun to take some mild interest.

“So, four whacks is it, Andrea?” Veronica queried.

“Might as well, Veronica.” Andrea answered, not too unhappily. “I’ve got things to do this evening.”

“I’m sure you have, Andrea.” The Head Girl carefully folded the tail of Andrea’s blazer back so the seat of her tight black trousers was fully revealed, noted the firm round bottom encased in the trousers and the tell-tale panty line that showed Andrea was wearing quite brief underwear that left much of her buttocks unprotected, then gave the inviting target a pat with the palm of her hand. “There! That should do the trick. Ready?”

“Yes thank you, Veronica!” Andrea spoke in a way that suggested she fully realized the Head Girl was quite enjoying these few moments.

Veronica, too, seemed to sense Andrea’s awareness, for in moments she brought the slipper crashing down across the sixth form girl’s bottom with a ferocity that even Sara had not experienced earlier.

“Ouch!!” Andrea exclaimed. “Steady on, Veronica!”

“This is a punishment, Andrea!” The Head Girl countered. “Got to make them count!”

Andrea gave a look of exaggerated horror for Sara’s benefit, then turned her head to the front and waited for the next stroke with a great deal more apprehension.

Moments later, another firm blow smacked down across her waiting bottom.

“Oooooo – ooooooooh!!!” Andrea screwed her face up to confirm the pain that spread quickly across her entire compact bottom. “Veronica!”

“Oh, for goodness sakes, Andrea. This is only a slippering!”

“Precisely!” Her protest made, Andrea braced herself for the next stroke. It followed quickly with considerable gusto, and was the bottom smarting whack that Andrea had anticipated it would be.”

“Oooooooowww!!”

Veronica allowed the slipper to come away from the black material that covered Andrea’s neat bottom, and waited for the next protest. But it never came. A little surprised, the Head Girl took aim for the final stroke.

Andrea, meanwhile, had reckoned her open manner during her punishment, and her criticisms of the severity of the strokes, had done her no favours with the Head Girl. Expecting the final stroke to be the firmest anyway, she decided silence might be her best option.

Andrea paused, deliberately increasing the tension for the waiting eighteen year old, then drew the slipper back, well back, until it hovered behind and above her shoulder. Another long pause, and then the Head girl swung the slipper down, accelerating more and more, until it crashed into the waiting bottom with a bang that echoed round the room and for a moment sent the girl off-balance so she struggled to stay on her feet.

“Oooooooooooooouuuccchhh!!” Andrea cried, as the effects of the slipper smacking hard into her backside reverberated throughout her entire compact bottom. Andrea remained bending over as the tingling, smarting pain continued to punish her poor bottom.

“Alright Andrea, up you get!” Veronica called cheerfully.

Andrea struggled to stand upright, her legs for a moment weak and not fully able to support her. Her hands soon went to the seat of her black trousers as she sought to soothe and ease the pain. She felt herself being taken by the shoulder and roughly pulled round so she stood beside Veronica.

“Which brings us to you, Sara.” The Head Girl looked at the seated eighteen year old.

“Me, Veronica?”

“Yes, Sara. Are you not going to join us?”

“You mean, am I going to get my bottom smacked again, Veronica?” Sara smiled disingenuously at the Head Girl. “The answer is ‘no thank you’.”

“Oh, Sara!” Veronica gave an exaggerated look of disappointment in return. “I’m sure you’re disappointing us both. Do you really mean to say you prefer to endure my company for another hour rather than take four little pats on your bottom?”

“An hour in you company Veronica? Sounds divine!”

“It won’t be that, Sara. Trust me.”

Even Andrea had to glance at the Head Girl as she made the barely veiled threat. Sara, though, seemed unmoved.

“Sara!” Andrea was hesitant to speak out in front of Veronica Appleby, but so certain was she that Sara was making a big mistake, she felt she just had to say something. “I’m not sure this is a very good idea of yours.”

“See!” Veronica appeared delighted by the support apparently offered by Andrea. “Andrea wants to see you get another spanking too!”

“Veronica, that’s not quite what I…”

“Oh, okay!” Sara sighed loudly. “Let’s get it over with.” The small dark haired girl scraped the desk on the floor as she struggled to her feet.

“Good girl!” Veronica enthused. “I’m sure you’ve made the right decision.”

“Huh!” Sara retorted. “Okay, where do you want me?”

“Um…” Veronica pressed her finger to her lips as she pondered the various options. “I know, let’s have you across your desk. Come round to the front and bend over!” Veronica and Andrea stood aside to allow Sara some space.

Sara paused long enough to take a deep breath and let the air escape from her lips in something of another sigh. She carefully made her way round to the front of the desk and stood facing it. With a brief glance towards Veronica and Andrea, she bent over and began pulling at the tail of her blazer, folding it up her own back until her bottom, clad in the tight-fitting black leggings, was fully exposed.

While Veronica immediately took up a position behind and to the side of Sara, Andrea moved round to stand beside her fellow detention class member’s face where she was still able to gain a good view of the impending slippering. Sara looked up at Andrea and gave a knowing look.

“Ready, dear?” Veronica said with an air of sarcasm.

“Yes thank you, Veronica.”

Veronica responded by drawing the slipper right back over her shoulder. She paused, then sent the implement hurtling down until it positively crashed against Sara’s waiting bottom. The firm rubber sole flattened the soft bottom flesh for a full second as Veronica forced the slipper into Sara’s buttocks, as though trying to wrest every ounce of power from the stroke.

Sara, though, appeared unmoved. She neither cried out, nor did her body react in any visible way.

Veronica looked down at the bending figure of the girl before her, her face showing puzzlement at the lack of reaction. When the Head Girl drew the slipper back for the next stroke, she determined to exert even more force into the blow. Using every ounce of strength she could muster in her slim arms, Veronica swung the slipper down with a ferocity that surprised even Andrea who was expecting something particularly severe. For a second time, the slipper thundered into poor Sara’s bottom.

This time Sara grunted. It was only a quiet grunt that probably would not have been heard, had it not been for the atmospheric silence that pervaded the room. A glance down into Sara’s face revealed features that were braced against showing any reaction to the force of the punishment or the pain that it must have caused. Veronica took half a step backwards.

“Um, how about the trousers down for the last two strokes, Sara?”

“Why?” The question was simple, the voice perhaps with the faintest hint of hostility.

“Because Andrea and I would like to see you getting your bottom smacked with just your little panties to protect you. Wouldn’t we, Andrea?”

“Oh, er, I’m not bothered either way, actually Veronica.” Andrea was reluctant to support the other girl being humiliated even further yet did not want to incur the Head Girl’s displeasure.

“Nonsense!” Veronica exclaimed excitedly. “Come along, Sara, you’re not going to disappoint us, are you?”

Sara responded by reaching with both hands for the waistband of her black leggings. Slowly, she eased the garment down off her hips, over the mounds of her bottom, and down to the tops of her thighs.

“Help her, would you Andrea, please.” Veronica wanted more.

Andrea stepped forward and pulled the leggings further down and the blazer further up so that Sara’s bottom looked especially isolated and vulnerable poised over the edge of the desk and protected only by a brief pair of pale blue knickers. As Andrea looked, she saw the naked portions of Sara’s bottom the skimpy underwear failed to cover were already red and sore.

“That’s fine, thank you Andrea.” Veronica waited while Andrea stepped back again. “Ready, Sara?”

“Yes. I’m ready, Veronica.” Sara’s voice suggested she was beginning to find these proceedings rather tiresome.

“Hold tight!” The Head Girl drew the slipper back for the third time. A glance down at Sara showed the girl to be lying across the desk, entirely motionless. The slipper began its descent, accelerating rapidly, until it crashed for a third time into Sara’s defenceless bottom, now clad in just the flimsy underwear.

Still Sara failed to show any reaction, although Andrea noticed the red sore portions of her bottom, notably the right bottom cheek, were looking even more heavily marked.

With more than a hint of bewilderment apparent on her face, Veronica pulled the slipper back for the final stroke. She took aim with grim determination and began to swing the slipper down with as much strength as she could muster. A split second later, the rubber soled plimsoll whacked across Sara’s barely protected bottom with a loud bang that seemed to echo round the room.

“Aaaaaaaaaaahh!!” Sara gasped as the large slipper smacked across her backside causing a fresh bout of smarting, burning pain to spread across both her buttocks.

“There!” Veronica sounded highly satisfied with her efforts. “That should remind you to set a better example for the other girls, at least when you sit down later.”

“You’re so kind, Veronica.” Sara cautiously eased herself up from the small school desk, not wanting either to cause her bottom further discomfort nor to incur the further wrath of the Head Girl for getting up too soon.

Veronica, though, was too preoccupied with gazing down at Sara’s red sore bottom, barely concealed by the skimpy pale blue panties. Even Andrea couldn’t resist moving round so she too could see the results of the slippering on Sara’s bottom.

“Mind if I pull my trousers up?” Sara’s voice continued to betray a sarcastic note. “When you’ve both finished looking, of course!”

Only Andrea had the good grace to blush. Veronica simply ignored Sara’s comment, wheeled round and returned the slipper to its drawer.

“Right, you may both leave.” Veronica announced from behind the teacher’s desk. “Don’t forget you’re back here on Thursday, Sara.”

“See you later.” Andrea spoke softly to Sara and left the room. Sara delayed her departure until Veronica was also ready to leave.

“Your turn for the coffee, I believe.” Sara said as they walked together along the corridor.

“So it is.” Veronica confirmed. “We’ll go to my room.”

“What was all that about, then?” Sara asked, more than a hint of rancour in her voice.

“I needed to teach you a lesson you wouldn’t forget in a hurry.” Veronica explained. “And one that will serve as a warning to the rest of the sixth form girls. Like I said earlier, it would have been better if the headmaster had caned you.”

The following Thursday, at ten minutes to four, Veronica Appleby knocked on the door to Sara Tomlinson’s room. Without being invited, she peeled open the door and looked inside. “Aren’t you ready yet? You’re due at detention in ten minutes, Sara, and you’re not even in your uniform yet.”

Sara continued brushing her short dark hair, her eyes focusing on the Head Girl through the mirror fixed to the wall.

“I’m not coming, actually Veronica.”

“Not coming?” Veronica Appleby was surprised. The tone of Sara’s voice suggested this was more than a simple display of disobedience. “Why not?” She asked guardedly.

Sara didn’t reply. Placing the hairbrush on top of a chest of drawers, she brushed a stray hair off her red track-suit top, inserted her thumbs in the waistband of the matching trousers and pushed them down until they were around her knees.

Immediately, Veronica could see why Sara would not be attending the detention session. Even so, Sara inserted her thumbs in the elastic top of her brief pink underwear and pushed the skimpy underwear down.

“Why?” Veronica asked in astonishment.

“For the good of the school, perhaps?” Sara suggested caustically.

“Huh!” Veronica retorted, unable to take her eyes off the sight of Sara’s naked bottom with the three angry red stripes running horizontally across. “Anyway, it was your choice to have the cane instead of your second detention. I’d better get moving. I’ve still got a detention session to supervise.”

“Actually, no, you haven’t, Veronica.” Finally, Sara looked round and looked the Head Girl straight in the eye. “The headmaster wants to see you.”

“The headmaster? Now? Why?”

“Right now, Veronica. I’m sure you’ll find out what it’s all about soon enough.”

Sara watched the worried look appear in Veronica’s eyes, saw the worry turn to sheer terror as the implications were realised in the Head Girl’s mind, then observed how Veronica’s entire face became finally resigned. Veronica nodded without speaking, then closed the door behind her.

A clock striking four o’clock suggested calm and tranquillity inside the headmaster’s study as Veronica Appleby stood outside tucking her white blouse neatly into the waistband of her charcoal grey pinstripe trousers and brushing off a couple of flecks of dust. There was nothing relaxed about the Head Girl’s state of mind, though, as she tapped gently on the door.

“Come in!”

“You wanted to see me, sir?”  Veronica peered round the half open door.

“Yes, Veronica. Yes, I certainly do want a word with you.”

Veronica pushed the door fully open and entered the luxuriously furnished domain of Dr Clarke, their headmaster. A grey haired man in his late fifties, spectacles perched half way down an aquiline nose, Dr Clarke stopped writing and placed his pen down on the leather covered surface of a large mahogany desk. Veronica approached the desk and stood beside a simple upright oak chair, sensing the manner of her summons meant she should not be so presumptuous as to sit down without being asked.

“It’s been reported to me, Veronica, that you have been exceeding your authority with the other sixth form girls.”

Veronica remained silent, feeling an expression of innocence and bewilderment on her face would suffice until further details of her alleged offences had been specified.

“For example, I understand that during a detention session on Monday evening you subjected two girls to humiliating extra punishments. Is that true?”

“I er, well, it’s a tradition that girls are allowed to substitute a slippering for the second hour of detention, sir. And I am authorised to use up to six strokes of the slipper.”

“A tradition I’m well aware of, Veronica. And one that I have no particular objection to, providing the girls submit to the slippering of their own free will and without duress or coercion.”

“But they did, sir!” Veronica asserted, before adding rather more softly: “Well, one did at least.”

“Precisely, Veronica. And would you say having to stand with their hands on their heads was really a suitable sanction for eighteen year old sixth form girls?”

“I think that’s a matter of opinion, sir.”

“Veronica! Whilst we could spend the rest of the evening going through each and every punishment you have awarded sixth form girls in your nine months as Head Girl, it might be an idea to reflect on whether the charge of abusing your authority has any substance. If it has, then let’s punish you and put the matter behind us. If you are truly innocent, well, that’s another matter.”

Veronica bit her lip as she thought back to the detention session on Monday evening, and to one or two other recent incidents. Her mind turned to calculating her best strategy for dealing with Dr Clarke, a man known to favour those who owned up and took their medicine stoically. Would she be able to talk her way out of this? What had Dr Clarke been told, and who had told him? Sara Tomlinson’s bottom still bore the marks of her recent visit. It must have been her, and she could have made quite a meal of it.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Dr Clarke queried.

“Yes, I suppose I may have been out of order with one or two of the girls I have had to deal with recently.” Veronica confessed, then hastily added in her own defence: “But I only acted with the best interests of the school in mind. And with the girls themselves, of course.” The last sentence was spoken more softly. More of a whisper, in fact, as Veronica struggled to provide mitigation for her crimes.

“Well done, Veronica!” Dr Clarke smiled. “Far better to admit to your imperfections and take any penalty that may follow, I always say.”

“Yes, sir.” Veronica didn’t sound so convinced.

“There can of course only be one solution.”

“Sir?” The tall blonde girl asked, not at all certain she really wanted to hear the answer.

“A good six of the best, eh Veronica? That should satisfy everyone.”

“Yes, sir.” The Head Girl replied miserably. Confessing her guilt was one thing, facing the consequences was something else.

“Right. Then we’d better get to it, I suppose.”

Veronica took a deep breath in an effort to settle her nerves, but still her heart pounded as she watched Dr Clarke go to a cabinet behind his desk and delve into a low wide drawer. He turned to face her holding a long slender cane in both hands, one end of the cane being curled round into a crook handle. The headmaster tapped the other end of the cane against the palm of his hand as though testing the effectiveness of the implement, then took a couple of practice swings which all served to instil yet more fear into the watching Head Girl.

“I shall cane you across your bottom, Veronica.” Dr Clarke announced as he joined Veronica at the front of his large desk.

The eighteen year old flashed a glance into the headmaster’s steely blue eyes, not quite certain what she expected to see. Dr Clarke looked back at her with an icy coolness and stern resolve.

“Sir.” Veronica practically whispered the word.

“I shall therefore require you to bend over, Veronica.” The headmaster tapped the upright oak chair that stood near to them with the tip of the cane. “You may use that chair if you wish.”

With heart pounding ever faster, Veronica felt her mind slip into sheer panic as the headmaster’s words sank in. The tall blonde girl looked around at the chair and the space surrounding them as she endeavoured to calculate what needed to be done to comply with Dr Clarke’s request.

‘Oh God!’ She thought. ‘Do I just bend over and touch my toes? He said I can use the chair if I want to. Do I bend over the back of it? Perhaps I could just hold on to the sides and lean over the seat. Yes, that sounds the best bet.

‘Now, which way do I turn it? I need to end up with my back to him. Better give him enough room to swing the cane without it crashing into his desk. God, what am I saying? No, it has to be done.’

Carefully, Veronica pulled the chair a little further away from the desk and turned it into such a position that she would be able to bend over the seat of the chair, hold on to the sides and present her bottom to the headmaster.

‘There! That’s done. Now what? He said he’d require me to bend over. Do I just do it? Should I wait until he says? I wonder what he’s doing.’

Veronica looked round and saw Dr Clarke standing behind her, idly flexing the cane between both hands as he watched her.

“Are, are we ready, sir?” Veronica could stand the tension no longer. She knew the question would most likely set forth that chain of events that would mean considerable pain and discomfort, but then this was not going to go away. Better to get it over with.

“Pretty well, Veronica.” The headmaster confirmed. “I was, however, informed you required at least one of the girls you punished inappropriately to lower her trousers. Is that so?”

“Er, yes, sir.”

“Why did you do that?”

Veronica shrugged. “To make the punishment more humiliating I suppose, sir.”

“Yes, well it would, wouldn’t it?” Dr Clarke agreed. “So, do you suppose your own punishment should be made more humiliating to set the books straight, so to speak?”

Veronica stared back in horror, completely dumbfounded.

‘Oh my God!’ She thought. ‘He only wants me to get my trousers down! He can’t do that! But then I shouldn’t have got Sara to strip and I did. What if I refuse? I bet he’ll have a word with the other girls. They’ll probably strip me and give me a cold bath, or something just as horrible. At least this is in private.’

“You’re suggesting it would be more appropriate if I took my caning on the seat of my underwear, are you sir?”

“There are those who would feel a certain justice in that course of action, Veronica. It’s entirely up to you, of course.”

‘Of course it’s up to me! Like hell it is! This is blackmail! But then, what choice do I have. The other girls would just love to get their hands on me and bring me down a peg or two.’

“Well, I suppose it’s only fair, isn’t it sir?”

“That’s very understanding of you, Veronica.”

‘Too right! I understand exactly what’s going on! Oh well, better get on with it.’

Veronica turned to face the chair, meaning that at least she now had her back to the headmaster, and unfastened the button at the waistband of her charcoal grey pinstripe trousers. She slid the zip down and felt the material slacken against her hips and bottom. A push, and the trousers were falling almost of their own accord down to her knees.

The Head Girl bent over the seat of the chair and gripped the sides, only too aware the headmaster would now be getting a good view of her bright red underwear – brief panties that struggled to cover more than the upper halves of her firm round buttocks.

‘Might as well play the game.’ Veronica thought to herself as she straightened her legs and pushed her head right down until her forehead pushed into the upholstered leather seat, an act that caused her bottom to be thrust up and out, perfect for the headmaster’s application of the cane. ‘Come along Dr Clarke! Let’s get this over with.’

“Could we have the blouse lifted, please Veronica. It’s rather in the way.”

‘In the way?’ Veronica looked back and saw that the tail of her blouse appeared to be covering little more than the top couple of inches of her bottom. ‘Grief! Surely that’s enough for you to aim at!’

“Of course, sir.”

Veronica reached back without getting up from her bending position and pulled the tail of her blouse up until it was well clear of her red knicker clad bottom. Even so, she felt Dr Clarke assisting her until the blouse was folded half way up her back and above the straps of her black bra.

“That’s much better, Veronica.”

‘Didn’t know you were a boob fetishist as well, Dr Clarke!’ Veronica thought as she placed her hands at the sides of the chair once again, straightened her legs and rested her forehead on the seat of the chair, her heart now pounding as she listened intently for the first stroke to fall.

It wasn’t to be her ears that received the first warning, though, as Veronica flinched visibly when Dr Clarke rested the cane gently across the seat of her bright red underwear as he sized up the first stroke.

“Ready, Veronica?”

‘Yes, just bloody get on with it!’

“Yes, sir.” Said the Head Girl with little enthusiasm.

Instantly, the cane left Veronica’s bottom as Dr Clarke drew it back above his right shoulder. A brief whoosh of air was followed by a loud cracking sound and a mass of smarting pain shot across Veronica’s entire bottom.

“Aaaaaaaaahh!!” She gasped.

‘That’s it, go for the bare bits my knickers don’t cover!’

The cane had left her bottom moments after impact, but now Dr Clarke was indicating where the next stroke would fall by resting the cane against Veronica’s bottom, a little lower down than the first.

‘Oh God! That’s going to hurt even more!’

Just a couple of seconds later, Veronica felt the cane leave her bottom as Dr Clarke again raised it well above his shoulder. After a brief whoosh of air, the next stroke thundered across the Head Girl’s scantily clad bottom.

“Uuuuuuunnhh!!” Veronica gasped again as the searing pain shot across her backside.

‘Yes! It did hurt even more! Ah, that might be a tiny bit better.’ Veronica felt the cane gently touching her on a higher part of her bottom, where her brief red knickers offered at least a little more protection.

Moments later, the cane swished and another mighty stroke lashed across Veronica’s bottom, barely an inch higher than the first stroke.

“Oooooooooocchhhh!!”

‘I’m sure he’s aiming for the barest bits of my bum!’ Veronica thought, as the cane bit into the soft flesh of her buttocks. ‘And no, these pants aren’t giving me any more protection! No!! Not there again!’ Veronica felt the cane being tapped against her bottom, very close to where the first stroke had landed.

“Oooooooooooooooohh!! Nooooooooo!!”

‘Oh my God!! How can such a thin bit of cane hurt so much? I’ll never sit down for a month! Oh no! I can feel tears coming to my eyes. Oh, please don’t let him see me crying. That would be too much! Now where? Ah, that’s better. He’s going higher up, where my knickers are covering my bum. How many strokes is that? Four? Only two more to go, then. Only? What am I saying?’

Dr Clarke rested the cane lightly on the bright red material of Veronica’s underwear, higher where the material covered virtually all the soft milky flesh. He drew the cane back, eyes fixed on the luscious target before him, then swung the implement swiftly down until another loud crack heralded the fifth stroke.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh-aaaaaaaaaahhh!!” Veronica gasped as though struggling for air as the pain shot across the upper parts of her soft rounded buttocks.

‘Oh good grief! Actually, that wasn’t quite so bad. At least that was a bit away from where he’d hit me before. Damn these tears! One more to go. Got to keep still. Let’s get this over with as quickly as possible. Then I can get out of here and see just what the damage is. It feels like I’ve been branded for life!’

The Head Girl gripped the sides of the chair as tightly as she could, tried to keep her bottom as still as possible and waited for the final blow. The cane resting across the lower part of her bottom told her Dr Clarke was again aiming at the barer part of her bottom.

Before the eighteen year old had a chance even to think, Dr Clarke drew the cane back and sent the final stroke whistling down to crack across Veronica’s virtually naked bottom.

“Ooooooooohh!! Oh God!! Oh good grief, that hurts!!” The eighteen year gasped the words as she struggled to deal with the almighty stinging pain she felt across her entire backside. She desperately wanted to reach back and comfort the burning sensation that was the cause of a continuing trickle of tears that rolled down her pretty cheeks, but hesitated in case such an act should meet with the disapproval of Dr Clarke.

The headmaster, meanwhile, stood with the cane grasped between both hands as he looked down at his handiwork. Veronica’s bright red knickers had ridden well up with her writhing, leaving six vivid red and angry looking weals clearly evident across the soft milky white mounds. Suddenly, when the girl risked a cautious glance behind her and caught Dr Clarke staring down at her bottom, the headmaster felt oddly guilty.

“Well taken, Veronica!” The headmaster said stuffily. “That concludes your punishment. You may rise.” Reluctantly, as the girl eased herself up from her bending position, he forced his eyes away from her backside and went beyond his desk to return the cane to its cupboard drawer.

By the time Dr Clarke had closed the drawer again and turned, Veronica had reached down, pulled her charcoal grey pinstripe trousers up, and was struggling to pull the material around her now somewhat swollen bottom and refasten them. Remaining sideways on to the headmaster until her trousers zip was finally secured, Veronica then turned to face Dr Clarke, now seated behind his desk. Through her tear-stained features, there was more than a hint of anger and hostility as she looked into the headmaster’s eyes, eyes that seemed reluctant to look directly back at her.

“There’s er.…  a good lesson to be learned from this experience, Veronica.”

“Yes, sir?” The girl’s intonation suggested a question rather than agreement.

“Er….. yes. Anyway, get off to your room, Veronica. You’ll soon get over this unpleasant business, I’m sure.”

“Yes, sir.” Veronica seemed unconvinced.

“Off you go, then.” Dr Clarke said with a sympathetic smile.

Thank you, sir.” Veronica acknowledged, her tone still suggesting far more than a simple courtesy.

She left the room immediately, unable to deter herself from placing a soothing hand on the seat of her trousers as the material chaffed against her now very sore bottom as she headed for the door. Once back in her room, she tore the trousers off again and lay face down on her bed in just her white blouse and bright red knickers. Within minutes, she heard the door creak slowly open.

“Veronica?” The young female voice practically whispered. “You okay?”

Not needing to turn around to identify the visitor, Veronica remained lying face down on her bed, her face resting against her pillow.

“Oh my God! Your poor bottom!” The door clicked shut, and finally Veronica half turned to look at the new arrival.

“Satisfied?”

“Veronica!” The visitor’s voice pleaded innocence. “Honestly, I had nothing to do with getting you into trouble with Dr Clarke.”

“Well, if you didn’t, who did?” Veronica answered tersely.

Both girls remained silent for several long seconds.

“Andrea Hopkins!” Sara and Veronica spoke together.

“Just wait until I get my hands on her!” Veronica said menacingly.

“Steady, Veronica.” Sara cautioned. “Remember what got you this rather well smacked bottom.”

“It might be worth it, Sara. It might just be worth it!”

The End

© Kenny Walters 2011