A Day for a Caning

A mother escorts her daughter to the headmaster for punishment.

by Kenny Walters

Sarah Docherty tentatively peered round the kitchen door and saw her mother standing at the cooker, sliding the sizzling bacon in the frying pan. Tightening the cord of her white towelling dressing gown, she went in.

“Oh!” Janet Docherty looked round suddenly when her daughter scraped a chair on the varnished oak flooring as she sat down at the breakfast table. “I didn’t hear you coming down the stairs.”

“No.” Sarah glanced at the newspaper lying on the table but merely toyed with the pages, her mind on other things.

“Breakfast will soon be ready, darling.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“No, I suppose not.” Janet Docherty looked round, a worried expression lining her face. “Perhaps a little bacon and a tomato?”

“Okay.”

“Your father had an early start.”

“Oh.”

“I got him to drop Ben off at school. It meant he was a bit early but, well, you know.”

“Yes.”

“There you go, darling.” Janet Docherty placed a small plate of two rashers of bacon and a fried tomato in front of her daughter, together with a mug of coffee. “What are you going to wear?”

“Smart casual.” Sarah picked at the food with her fork.

“Yes, that seems sensible.” Janet Docherty sat at the table, another steaming mug of coffee in front of her. “What, exactly?”

“Not sure yet.”

“Better get a move on, darling. It’stwenty past ninealready.”

“I know!” Pushing aside the half eaten bacon and tomato, Sarah took her mug of coffee and went back up to her room. Her dark shoulder length hair was still damp from the shower she’d taken before going downstairs, so she found a towel from a dressing table drawer and began rubbing away at it furiously.

“I hope you’re getting ready darling!” Janet Docherty called as she too came upstairs and went into her own bedroom.

“I am!” Sarah answered angrily. She took a gulp of the coffee and began brushing out her hair. A glance at the clock showed it was now almost nine-thirty. She removed her dressing gown and stood totally naked as she searched another drawer in the dressing table for suitable underwear. Beneath the mass of brightly coloured thongs and lacy bras she eventually found a simple pair of white cotton briefs and a white bra.

“Come along darling!” Her mother called, on her way back down the stairs.

Sarah finished buttoning the white blouse with the lacy edging she’d chosen and went to her wardrobe. Hastily palming through the hangers of clothing, she extracted a pair of well pressed trousers in a smart airforce blue colour and put them on. Black slip on shoes and a tan leather jacket completed her ensemble.

“For goodness sake! Hurry up!”

“I’m coming!” Sarah answered her mother as she pummelled down the stairs and dived through the already open front door.

“Do your seat belt up!” Janet Docherty snapped as she accelerated the car down the side street. “I hope we don’t get held up in the high street. Not exactly the best occasion to be late, is it?”

Sarah didn’t reply, but quietly slid the seat belt into its slot.

“I really don’t know how this is going to go.” Mrs Docherty continued.

The eighteen year old busied herself with tying her hair back into a pony tail, as she again ignored her mother’s conversation.

“You’d better have a bit more to say for yourself when we get into Mr Hardcastle’s study, young lady!”

“It won’t make any difference.”

“Oh, you can read your headmaster’s mind now, can you?”

“Mother! We both know he’s going to cane me, so what’s the point in talking about it?”

“Listen young lady! When I spoke to Mr Hardcastle on the telephone, he was talking about expulsion. I think we’re going to have to a tough time in persuading him to let you off with a caning!”

“Let me off? I wouldn’t exactly describe being caned as ‘being let off’, actually!” Sarah breathed out noisily and turned her head to stare out of the side window of the car.

Janet Docherty steered carefully through the school gates and found a parking space immediately outside the main entrance of St Margaret’s Grammar School for Girls. Sarah, expecting everyone to be looking out of the classroom windows, nervously approached the large door with her mother walking beside her.

“Good morning, Mrs Docherty. Sarah.” Mrs Burrows, the senior school secretary, peered through the receptionist’s window.

“Good morning. We’re here to see Mr Hardcastle.”

“Yes, of course. Take a seat. I’m sure he won’t keep you waiting long.”

As a large wall mounted clock noisily ticked away, Sarah sat looking through the receptionist’s window as Mrs Burrows, a rather plump grey haired lady, and the junior secretary, a pretty blonde girl in her mid-twenties, went about their work.

A telephone rang, causing Sarah’s heart to beat frantically. She breathed a small sigh of relief when Lynn Freemont, the junior secretary, began speaking to someone about supplies for the art department. Another telephone rang, and Mrs Burrows picked up the receiver.

“Mr Hardcastle is free now!” Mrs Burrows called cheerily across to Sarah and her mother. “I’ll take you through.”

With her heart pounding, Sarah got to her feet and felt her mother propelling her forward towards the corridor where Mrs Burrows now stood waiting for them. A short walk along, and they were outside the dark blue painted door that Sarah knew only too well was the door to her headmaster’s study.

“Come!” A gruff male voice bellowed from within, after Mrs Burrows had tapped respectfully on the door.

The plump school secretary pushed the door open and Janet Docherty gripped her daughter’s arm and led her inside. As Mrs Burrows returned to her own office, Mrs Docherty sat down in the one large comfortable armchair placed in front of the headmaster’s large desk, meaning Sarah had to stand beside her.

John Hardcastle ignored the two females as he studied some typewritten notes in a small folder on his desk, and Sarah stood uncomfortably as she looked down at the tall wiry grey haired gentleman with his hawk-like ruddy complexion. Eventually, he looked up.

“Not a very satisfactory state of affairs, is it young lady?”

Sarah stared down at the thick pile carpet as she clasped her hands in front of her. After a nudge from her mother, Sarah eventually grunted: “No, sir.”

“Certainly not the standard of behaviour we’d expect of a sixth form girl, would you say?”

“No, sir.”

“I think we need an explanation, young lady!”

“It was a mistake, sir.” Sarah mumbled.

“A mistake?”

“I had been looking at the neckchain, and I was thinking of buying it.” Sarah tried looking her headmaster straight in the eye, but found his piercing stare extremely unnerving. “Then I noticed a jacket on the other side of the shop and after looking at that I couldn’t make up my mind which one to buy, so it seemed sensible to wait until another day.” The teenager reverted to staring down at the carpet.

“So, you left the shop?”

“Yes. Obviously I thought I’d put the neckchain back on the counter.”

“But, apparently you hadn’t.”

“Apparently not, sir.”

“And the shop manager found the neckchain in your jeans pocket?”

“Yes, sir.”

“So, how do you account for the shop assistant saying that she saw you look around furtively and then put the neckchain in your pocket?”

“I can’t, sir.” Sarah sighed desperately. “I must have been so absorbed in the jacket that I forgot all about the neck chain and absent mindedly put it in my pocket.”

“You forgot?”

“Yes, sir.”

“But, nonetheless, you chose to plead guilty as it were and agreed with the shop manager that the school should deal with you. Is that correct?”

“Yes, sir. Since the neck chain was found in my pocket there seemed little else I could do or say.”

“Mrs Docherty! How do you feel about this little predicament your Sarah has got herself into?”

“I’m sure I don’t know, headmaster.” Sarah felt some little relief as Mr Hardcastle’s attention was diverted away from her and towards her mother. “I know Sarah can be easily distracted.”

“The trouble is, Mrs Docherty, this shop has suffered quite a spate of shoplifting recently, and I regret to say it’s our girls who are having the finger of suspicion pointed at them. I have to deal with Sarah quite severely.”

“I quite understand, headmaster. My only hope is you can find some way other than expelling her. St Margaret’s is such a fine school.”

“Thank you, Mrs Docherty, we like to think so.” John Hardcasle beamed proudly. Then his face became serious once more. “However, if we rule out the option of expulsion, Mrs Docherty, that leaves me with but one remedy.”

“Yes, headmaster. I know.”

“And how do you feel about that, Mrs Docherty?” Mr Hardcastle spoke unusually softly.

Sarah’s mother took a deep breath, then nodded gently. “Sarah and I have discussed it. It seems the best solution.”

The headmaster paused to reflect, then turned to the eighteen year old who appeared oblivious to the discussion as she stared out of the window. “Sarah?”

The dark haired girl looked back, directly into her headmaster’s eyes. With a brief look down at her shiny black shoes Sarah, too, nodded slowly but she didn’t speak.

“Very well.” John Hardcastle picked up the telephone and after a few seconds began talking. “Miss Freemont? I shall need a senior cane and the punishment book, please.” He replaced the receiver and smiled weakly at Sarah’s mother. “Won’t be long.”

Sarah toyed nervously with her fingers as she continued to hold her hands in front of her. She hoped it would be the portly figure of Mrs Burrows that would appear in the doorway as she brought the requested items into the study. It would be just so humiliating if it was the young friendly Lynn Freemont.

Sarah presumed she would have to suffer her ordeal in the presence of her mother. If she were given a choice, though, she would ask for her mother to be excluded.

All too soon, there came a tap on the door.

“Come!”

Sarah looked round, and her heart sank as she saw Lynn Freemont peering anxiously back at her as the door peeled open.

“You asked for the punishment book and a senior cane, headmaster.”Lynnwalked round behind Sarah and Mrs Docherty and stood by the side of Mr Hardcastle. The young secretary placed the cane on the front of the desk nearest Sarah and a red covered exercise book in front of the the headmaster.

As John Hardcastle picked up a pen and opened the exercise book, Lynn Freemont looked across at Sarah and smiled gently. Sarah grimaced back.

“I’m awarding you six strokes, Sarah.” The headmaster continued writing as he spoke, his face grim. “Anything less would not be appropriate in all the circumstances.”

“Yes, sir.” Sarah answered weakly, her voice trembling.

“Lynn, would you get everything ready, please.” As the headmaster scrawled his signature in the final column, Sarah looked down at the little book, the double page lined into a series of columns. Her entry appeared about two thirds the way down, not that knowing she was far from the first girl to be punished in this way made her feel any better about her present situation.

When John Hardcastle closed the punishment book, Sarah looked across towards Lynn Freemont who had moved a small upright chair into a clear space and turned it round so that its back faced towards the teenager.

“Would you like to come over here, Sarah?”Lynnasked sweetly, as she stood to the right of the chair. “Mrs Docherty, would you like to come and stand with me?”

Sarah froze. She could see Lynn Freemont waiting for her, this pleasant friendly young woman that was popular and chatty with all the sixth form girls, but somehow Sarah couldn’t make her legs move. She hadn’t even noticed her mother stand up so when Mrs Docherty placed a hand gently on her daughter’s shoulder, Sarah jumped.

“Come along, darling, let’s get this over with.” Mrs Docherty pushed Sarah in the small of her back and then they were both approaching the small chair.

“Come and stand here, Mrs Docherty.” Lynn Freemont encouraged Sarah’s mother to stand next to her. “Stand behind the chair, please Sarah.”

Sarah complied and felt the wooden top rail of the chair brush against the front of her trousers.

“Are you ready, Sarah?” Lynn Freemont asked.

Sarah nodded.

“Good. Unfasten your trousers.”

Sarah took a deep breath and unbuttoned the top of her airforce blue trousers and slid down the zip.

“Push them down to your ankles, Sarah.”

“Is that really necessary?” Janet Docherty said quietly to the school secretary, as Sarah began to slide the trousers down her shapely legs.

“Girls are allowed one item of clothing.”Lynn explained. “If you prefer, Sarah can go and change into her gym shorts.”

“Can’t she take it across the seat of her trousers?”

“It doesn’t hurt as much, Mrs Docherty.”Lynn replied bluntly. “Girls are allowed just one item of clothing to protect their modesty, so Sarah wouldn’t be allowed to wear anything underneath. As I say, I could take her out and get her to change into a pair of gym shorts if you prefer although she would have to remove her underwear and it would prolong the agony, so to speak. Sarah might prefer to just drop her trousers and get it over with.”

Mrs Docherty turned to her daughter. “Sarah? What do you want to do?”

“I just want to get it over with, mum.” Sarah’s voice quivered. “I’ll take it on my knickers, please.”

Lynn Freemont glanced inquisitively towards Mrs Docherty.

“Okay, carry on.”

Sarah pushed the trousers right down until they were deposited around her ankles, then looked towards the young school secretary.

“Tuck your blouse up, please Sarah.”

Sarah lifted her blouse up and immodestly displayed the brief white panties she’d elected to wear for her ordeal. It took some moments before the blouse was folded securely up, and then Sarah felt her heart pounding hard against her chest.

“Okay, Sarah. You can bend over now. Head down, bottom up, please.”

The eighteen year old tugged the brief white panties down slightly, so they covered the lower portions of her soft round bottom, then leaned forward over the back of the chair. As her head neared the padded seat of the chair, so she felt her underwear slipping down off her bottom. She reached back and adjusted the cotton garment upwards but then the lower portions of her buttocks became exposed again. Finally, she gave up.

“I should grip the edge of the chair, Sarah. This will be quite painful, you know, and we do want you to remain in that position until your punishment is concluded. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” Sarah replied, close to tears.

“I think we are ready for you, Mr Hardcastle!”Lynncalled across to the headmaster.

“Good! Thank you, Miss Freemont.”

Sarah heard John Hardcastle swish the cane as he took a couple of practice swings, then she sensed rather than heard him approaching her.

“I’m sure you realise this is going to be a painful lesson for you, Sarah.” The headmaster spoke unnecessarily loudly, given his close proximity to the petrified teenager. “I suggest you keep quite still and allow me to administer your punishment. It is well deserved and I hope you will accept the discomfort it brings you in a spirit of contrition.”

“Yes sir.” Sarah said miserably, wishing he would just stop talking and get it over with.

“Good!”

Sarah flinched as the headmaster laid the cane gently across the seat of her tiny white pants, measuring up the first stroke. When she felt the cane leaving its contact with her bottom she gripped the edge of the chair for all she was worth, and the room became eerily silent.

Suddenly, the cane whooshed through the air until a sharp crack resounded round the study and a sharp flash of pain scorched its way across the width of Sarah’s soft round bottom.

“Aaaaahh!!” Sarah sucked the breath in sharply and noisily as her face screwed up in agony. Her eyes moistened until a tear trickled down her cheek.

The teenager breathed in and out twice and then settled in preparation for the next stroke.

Lynn Freemont looked discreetly towards Mrs Docherty and saw the mother staring down at the darkening red stripe that had appeared across the naked portions of her daughter’s bottom.

Slowly and steadily, John Hardcastle drew the cane back, then forced it down until it whipped into the waiting girl’s backside for a second time.

“Aaaaaahhh!!” Sarah’s mouth snapped open as she drew another deep breath in. Her cheeks puffed out and her eyes closed as she experienced the harsh bite of the cane slicing into her soft barely protected bottom.

It took three short sharp breaths before she was able to open her eyes again and see the richly furnished study through the misty haze of her tears.

Janet Docherty stood bolt upright as she witnessed the suffering of her daughter. A part of her was moved by the expressions of pain and the tears, and she felt a natural desire to offer comfort and solace, and even to prevent further strokes of the cane being administered.

Something, though, stopped her intervening; perhaps it was her belief that justice needed to be done, perhaps it was simply that her daughter had brought this upn herself and deserved to suffer the consequences. When John Hardcastle drew the cane back for another stroke, Janet Docherty stood and watched.

Sarah’s ears were suddenly filled with the sound of the cane whooshing through the air. Then came that awful crack that signalled another searing bout of pain across her now sore bottom.

“Uuuuuuunnhh!!” The teenager’s back arched as her head snapped back and fresh tears filled her eyes. No longer did she try to deal with the pain with deep breaths; now she just hurt and ached. She was just halfway through her ordeal and there were three more strokes to endure. Gripping the edge of the chair so tightly her knuckles ached, Sarah just hoped Mr Hardcastle would do it quickly.

The cane flashed through the air with another whoosh and the resulting blow snapped into Sarah’s waiting backside with venom.

“Sheeeeeeessh!!” Sarah arched her back again and screwed her face up as she experienced the smarting of yet another assault to her sore bottom. Several tears trickled down her cheeks and she wiped them away with the back of her hand, knowing that her make-up would now be horribly smeared. That, though, was the least of her worries for the moment.

Lynn Freemont stood stiffly, arms clasped behind her back, as she watched the eighteen year old’s punishment without visible sign of emotion. The girl’s tears, the red angry stripes that lined the soft curves of those parts of the soft round bottom not covered by the flimsy white underwear, the lightning flash of the cane as it whipped through the air towards its waiting target, all appeared to mean nothing to the young junior secretary.

“Aaaaaahhh – Aaaaaaahh!!” Sarah’s whole body tightened as the next stinging lash cracked across the soft mounds of her backside. Her eyes closed, then opened again as the pain throbbed. Amazingly, no fresh tears flowed; indeed her eyes now felt dry and red-stained. Just one more stroke to take and then it would be all over. Silently, Sarah pleaded for Mr Hardcastle to make it quick.

Sarah’s headmaster, though, was not a man to be rushed. He knew this was the last time he would wield his slender rattan cane today, and probably for several more weeks, so he determined to make the most of this girl’s punishment. As he looked down at the soft round bottom and the small white briefs that stretched and strained across the red striped mounds, John Hardcastle was in no doubt Sarah Docherty had been most severely punished.

Janet Docherty, too, felt her daughter had indeed been taught a harsh lesson, and reckoned Sarah would be far more careful in future when out shopping on her own. At least she had not been expelled and had avoided any unpleasant legal action, not to mention a criminal record. Her path toOxfordorCambridgeremained open. Perhaps a smacked bottom was after all a small price to pay.

Lynn Freemont stole a glance at the steely grey eyes of John Hardcastle as he contemplated his final stroke. She questioned in her mind whether the final blow would be the hardest of all, as it often was. Perhaps the headmaster would feel the eighteen year old had already received sufficient punishment to deter her from further transgressions, although for something as serious as stealing she doubted it.

John Hardcastle drew the cane back amidst such silence that a pin dropping on the thick pile carpet would burst the ear-drums of everyone in it. He paused, reflecting. Then, with a grunt, he propelled the slender rattan down with all his might causing Lynn Freemont to flinch as the draught met her eyes. Even though they’d watched every inch of its descent, both the young secretary and Sarah’s mother jumped as the cane impacted with a loud crack against the bending girl’s backside.

“Ssssheeeeeeeessshh!!!” Sarah cried out between gritted teeth. Her back arched, her eyes closed and her face screwed up in pain as she felt the effect of that final harshest blow.

Lynn Freemont and Mrs Docherty looked towards Mr Hardcastle, anticipating his announcement that Sarah’s punishment had been satisfactorily concluded, but for the moment the headmaster’s attention was focused wholeheartedly on the thin white knicker clad bottom and the angry red stripes acroos the bare portions of Sarah’s backside as the girl struggled to retain her position across the back of the chair.

“Yes.” John Hardcastle sighed. “That concludes your punishment, Sarah. I hope you have learned your lesson.”

The eighteen year old drew a deep breath and exhaled slowly as her head came up just ten or twelve inches. Another deep breath, and the girl stood half upright, her hands gripping the top of the chair. Finally, Sarah stood up and began gently exploring the damage caused to her bottom.

Lynn Freemont, her hands clasped in front of her, stood as stiffly as a soldier on the parade ground, watching the eighteen year old’s fingers probe first the uncovered portions of bare bottom and then under the thin cotton material of the white briefs. Only when the girl looked hesitantly round, as if seeking further direction, did the young school secretary glance first at Mrs Docherty and then into the tear stained eyes of the punished girl.

“Oh, you can get dressed whenever you want, Sarah. You’re free to go!” Lynn Freemont declared.

Sarah looked towards the young school secretary, her expression a mixture of pain and resentment. With a sharp intake of breath, the eighteen year old bent down and slowly hunted through the material that lay around her ankles as she sought the waistband. Slowly, with a slight groan as she experienced once more the soreness of her bottom, Sarah eased the airforce blue trousers up her legs.

“Let me help you!” Mrs Docherty offered as she saw her daughter struggling to secure the trousers around her waist.

“I can do it!” Sarah snapped, angrily.

“Okay.” The answer came softly, as Sarah painfully stretched the trousers back into place and finally secured the fastenings. In a moment, Sarah was ready to go.

“All done up?” Lynn Freemont asked cheerily, as she looked down at the front of Sarah’s trousers and made sure the girl was properly dressed.

“Yes thank you!” Sarah retorted.

“Okay.” The secretary walked over to the door and held it open, apparently ignoring the girl’s hostility.

Sarah went painfully towards the door, paused and turned to look at the headmaster. John Hardcastle, though, had his back to her as he appeared to be selecting a book from an ornate bookcase at one end of his study.

“Thank you, sir.” Sarah said weakly.

“Oh.” Mr Hardcastle turned suddenly, clearly ill at ease. “Right. Thank you, Sarah.”

The drive home was made in almost complete silence, with Sarah squirming uncomfortably on the front passenger seat. As they entered the front door of the house, Sarah went straight up to her room whilst her mother tactfully decided there were things to do in the kitchen. After half an hour, though, Janet Docherty hesitantly climbed the stairs.

“Are you okay, darling?” Mrs Docherty peered round the half open door of Sarah’s bedroom. There was no answer from the eighteen year old lying face down on her bed.

“You don’t mind, do you?” Mrs Docherty placed a small chair by her daughter’s bed and sat down. “How do you feel?”

“How do you think I feel?” Sarah kept her face buried in her arms.

“Pretty sore, I imagine.”

“Right!”

“Have you…… have you had a look at the damage yet?” Mrs Docherty spoke gently, hoping to avoid an angry reaction from her daughter.

“No.” Sarah’s answer was followed by a sob.

“Shall we?”

“Okay.”

Sarah reached under her stomach and released the fastenings of her trousers. With her mother’s help, she then eased the garment down until her brief white panties were once again exposed. Sarah allowed her mother to gently peel the underwear down off her sore bottom.

“What’s it like?” Sarah half turned her head.

“Bit like a main railway line!” Mrs Docherty looked thoughtfully down at her daughter’s round backside. “Six red lines right across your bottom.”

“It’s not funny!” Sarah retorted.

“I didn’t mean it to be!”

“If you want to be helpful, there’s some cold cream in that drawer.” Sarah nodded towards a small bedside cabinet.

“Do you think we should?”

“It certainly can’t make it feel any worse!”

“No, I’m sure it won’t.” Mrs Docherty agreed. “I just wondered whether we should allow you to soothe your bottom. This is a punishment, you know. It is supposed to hurt for a while. It might make you think twice about stealing in future.”

“I’m not a thief, mother!” Sarah said with some feeling. “And I have been punished quite adequately, thank you! Now, just get the cold cream, will you?”

“Not a thief?” Mrs Docherty opened the drawer and reached for the small tube. “You heard the evidence. The shop assistant saw you. You admitted it.”

“That was Emma Goldsmith’s older sister!”

“Emma Goldsmith? What’s she got to do with it?”

“Her boyfriend ditched her to take me to the school dance a couple of weeks ago! It was just her way of getting even, that’s all.”

“Getting even? Sarah! Why didn’t you tell me this before? I’d never have let you have the cane if I’d known!”

“That’s right! Then you would have told Mr Hardcastle the full story and he’d have had Emma up before him, and probably a couple of her friends as well.”

“Quite right too!”

“Yes, but they’d have known it was me who got them into trouble and then they’d have taken it out on me in a really big way!”

“Well yes, I see your point, but…..”

“But nothing, mummy! They think they’ve won. They’ve got me a smacked bottom and now they think that’s the end of it.”

“It still doesn’t seem fair, darling. I really think I should have a word with Mr Hardcastle.”

“Don’t you dare! And they only think it’s all over.”

“What do you mean?”

“It means I’ve planned my revenge very carefully. And there will be revenge! They’ll get their just desserts, don’t you worry. Now, could you get to it with the cold cream please?”

The End