A sixth form girl is indiscreet, but the remedy most certainly is.

By Kenny Walters

“Oh, Sophie, could I have a word please?”

Sophie Harrington-Smith looked up and saw Jessica Evanshaw standing in the doorway.

“Of course, Jessica. There’s coffee in the pot. Help yourself.”

“Actually,” Jessica looked pointedly around the upper sixth common room. “I was hoping we could have a private little chat somewhere. Perhaps my office?”

Now all the half dozen or so upper sixth formers currently in the room looked up, intrigued by what the Head Girl had to say to Sophie Harrington-Smith that was so private it couldn’t even be whispered in a corner of the common room.

“All right, Jessica.” Sophie closed the two books she was reading from, closed her notebook and pushed everything into her brown leather briefcase. With that in her left hand and a sports bag in her right hand, she got up and headed for the door.

“So, what did you want to chat about, Jessica?” Sophie asked, now they were walking along the near deserted corridor.

“Let’s wait until we get to my room, Sophie. Walls have ears, you know.”

“Oh, okay.

“So, have you heard how Penny Newham’s getting on with her new boyfriend, Jessica?” Sophie tried to make conversation.

“Sophie! We shouldn’t be gossiping about other girl’s private affairs behind their back!”

“No, but it is such fun, don’t you think?”

When the Head Girl failed to answer, Sophie took the hint and the two walked in silence until they reached the small room that served as the Head Girl’s office. Jessica unlocked the girl and ushered Sophie in.

“Take a seat.” Jessica said, indicating the small, rather basic chair in front of her desk. Sophie sat down, placing her bags on the floor beside her.

The office had coffee and tea making facilities, but Sophie noted the Head Girl didn’t offer. Instead, Jessica Evanshaw sat on the more comfortable swivelling office chair behind her desk. Two metal filing cabinets stood against the wall behind, which seemed more than sufficient for the few records one Head Girl might need to keep.

Sophie waited patiently while Jessica clasped her hands together, rested them on her desk and sat smiling across at her. Somehow, the smile seemed less than genuine.

“You wanted a chat?” Sophie prompted, after the silence began to feel uncomfortable.

Jessica grimaced. “Yes, um, it’s a bit tricky, actually.”

“Tricky? That sounds intriguing. Do tell.”

“It’s regarding the late evening you were allowed last Wednesday.” Jessica straightened in her chair. “You were allowed special permission to be out until 11.00 pm. A visit from your uncle, I believe.”

“Yes. He’s an army officer. He was visiting a base fairly near here and as I haven’t seen him for more than a year he offered to take me out to dinner.”

“He’s quite young, is he? For an uncle, I mean.”

“Yes.” Sophie answered curtly, sensing Jessica’s suspicion and immediately wondering just where this conversation was heading.

“Young enough to be at the boys’ school at the other end of the village, for example?”

“I, um, I suppose he might appear that way, yes. He’s much younger than my father, you know.”

“He must be very much younger, Sophie, seeing that he hasn’t been born yet.”


“Sophie, the headmaster checked with your parents. He phoned them this morning. I was in his study with him when he made the call.”


“Yes, oh!” Jessica smiled evilly. “So, who was he? Of course, your father confirmed you don’t have an uncle, in the army or otherwise.”

“Cousin?” Sophie tried half-heartedly to continue with her ruse.

Jessica shook her head. “The headmaster asked your parents if there were any other relatives that might have taken you to dinner.”

“Very thorough isn’t he, our headmaster?” Sophie grinned sheepishly. “Looks like I’m fair banged to rights, doesn’t it?”

“I’m willing to listen if you feel you had a right to be out with whoever it was.”

“I don’t think a hunky lad from the boys’ school would qualify, Jessica.”

“So, you admit your guilt, Sophie?”

Sophie nodded. “So, what happens now? Am I up before the headmaster in the morning? Can I expect to be sweeping the front drive with a toothbrush for the rest of the term?”

“This is no laughing matter, Sophie. The school is responsible for your safety, which is why all boarders’ movements are closely scrutinised. You’ve set a frightfully poor example.”

“Hardly, Jessica. I mean, like I didn’t go round telling everyone all about it.”

“I’m sure at least a couple of your friends knew, Sophie, and you know how things get around.”

“So I’m to be made an example of?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“You’re looking frightfully serious, Jessica. You’re starting to worry me.”

“Sophie, you’ve been an absolute idiot! You’re in serious trouble, you know. The headmaster even mentioned expulsion.”

“Expulsion? You’re kidding? Just for going out on a date?”

“Being absent from school, with no-one knowing where you were! What if something had happened to you? We wouldn’t have had a clue where to start looking. What if the police had been involved?”

Sophie screwed her face up, then nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, I can see I was perhaps a bit thoughtless.”

“A bit thoughtless?” Jessica chuckled sardonically. “Just a bit, Sophie.”

“So, what’s going to happen?”

“That’s what the headmaster wanted me to discuss with you.”

“Why didn’t he call me into his office and talk to me directly? He’s not usually been so reticent about disciplinary matters.”

“It’s delicate.”

“Is it?”

“Yes, the boy also did not have permission to be out of school, so he’s been in trouble too. The headmaster of the boys school is very keen for it all to be kept under wraps. And our own headmaster is hardly anxious for it to get out either.”

“Which means, what?”

“I take it you haven’t heard from your boyfriend?”

“No, curiously, because I was expecting to. I thought there might be another date in the offing, actually.”

“Then you need to know he’s been given a stiff caning, warned about his future conduct and told that a special watch will, from now on, be kept on his movements. Don’t expect to hear from him until the term ends, Sophie.”

“He’s been caned?” Sophie frowned. “Anyway, we’ll both be going home at the end of term, and we live hundreds of miles away from each other, so I guess that’s the end of that little friendship.”

“Probably for the best,” Jessica suggested.

“Perhaps,” Sophie nodded. “So, what about me? Do I consider myself severely told off, or is there more?”

“Er, you can consider yourself firmly told off, but I’m afraid there is also more.”

“I was afraid there might be.”

“Actually, once expelling you became out of the question due to the publicity that always seems to surround such events, the headmaster was going to limit your punishment to just a formal reprimand in his office. I didn’t think that was right, and I’m afraid I told him so, Sophie.”

“Oh gee, thanks, Jessica.”

“Oh, come on, Sophie! Your boyfriend gets a good thrashing and you get a talking-to? Even you can’t think that’s right!”

Sophie ran her fingers through her blond hair as she thought. “I suppose not,” she reluctantly conceded, then a notion suddenly entered her head. “Hold on, I’m not getting the cane too, am I? I mean, that doesn’t happen to girls here, does it? And it particularly doesn’t happen to sixth from girls, right?”

“That’s why I’ve asked to have a chat with you, Sophie. Or, more importantly, that’s why the headmaster asked me to have a chat with you.”

“Right.” Sophie sounded doubtful about where all this was heading.

“You are basically correct, Sophie. Girls here don’t get the cane, although actually there’s nothing to prevent it, it’s just the need hasn’t arisen in recent years. Until now, that is.”

“Excuse me? Now, while I might admit I’ve perhaps bent the rules somewhat, I really don’t think it anywhere near merits any kind of particularly stern punishment like you’re hinting at, Jessica.”

“Really, Sophie?” Jessica seemed surprised. “I thought we’d agreed your boyfriend and you had committed pretty much the same offence.”

“Yes. So?”

Jessica shrugged her shoulders. “Then, surely a similar punishment for both should apply, shouldn’t it? This is the age of equality, you know.”

“You think I should be caned too?”

“Yes, in a nutshell.”

“More importantly, what does the headmaster think?”

“He, um, saw the logic of my argument, Sophie.”

Sophie’s mouth dropped.

“However, when we had a look around, we couldn’t actually find a cane. Of course, we could buy a new one, but that would take time. And we all really want this concluded as soon as possible, don’t we?”

“So, it’s all academic anyway?”

“I suppose we could borrow one from the boys school,” Jessica mused. “Or we could give you a damn good slippering.”

“A good slippering?”

“Yes, you know, something that would compare to a caning, without actually being a caning. We can negotiate the details.”


“I’m assuming you want this whole sorry story brought to a swift, and discreet, end. And that you have no wish to be expelled, of course.”

“Well, yes, since this is my last year at school, getting myself expelled wouldn’t be high on my list of priorities.”

“No, it would be a minor disaster. Which means we’re going to have to smack your bottom. There’s no other practical alternative. Nothing that can be kept under wraps. And that must be the priority, I’m sure you agree.”

“Do I?” Sophie sighed. “Yes, I see your point. The least people know, the better, I guess.”

“You agree to be slippered?” Jessica sounded hopeful.

“I suppose I’m lucky not to be caned, but that doesn’t seem practicable.”

“We could always ask the boys school to lend us a cane. I’m sure they would.”

“No, no! I’m sure the slipper will do the job quite adequately, thank you!”

“Okay, now we’ve asked Miss Jones to administer the punishment. She’s suggested it take place in the equipment cupboard just off the gym. Apparently, there’s a spare vaulting horse kept in there which will be ideal.”

“A vaulting horse? What do we need that for?”

“For you to bend over, of course.”

Sophie blushed. “You seem to have it all organised, Jessica. Are you sure you wouldn’t like to administer the punishment yourself?”

“Me? Oh, I hadn’t thought of that. I suppose I could, if you really wanted. I mean, we all thought you’d prefer to have it done by a member of staff. I feel the headmaster should do it himself, but he thought a female member of staff like Miss Jones would be better, like, more appropriate?”

“Jessica, I really don’t care. This is going to be just so humiliating anyway. If you want to do it, be my guest.”

The Head girl looked at her watch. “We ought to be going, actually. The headmaster wants us in his study after five o’clock. It’s ten past now.”

It took just four minutes to reach the headmaster’s office, knock and be summoned inside.

“So, Jessica, Sophie. You’ve been having a little chat, have you?”

“Yes, sir.” Jessica beamed. “And I’m pleased to say Jessica understands the predicament and is willing to cooperate.”

“Oh, splendid! Well done, Jessica. I knew this was right up your street.” Mr Davies-Powell smiled broadly. “Um, have you had a chance to discuss the, er, details at all?”

“Yes, sir.” Jessica answered before Sophie had the chance. “Jessica has opted to take the slippering, sir.”

“Has she? So, we need to get her along to Miss Jones then, don’t we?” Mr Davies-Powell looked around him. “Um, shall we go?”

“There was just one thing, sir.” Jessica spoke just as the headmaster was about to stand. “Sophie did ask if I might be allowed to administer the punishment. I didn’t really know what to say, sir.”

“Instead of Miss Jones? Oh, I really don’t think so, Jessica. I think this is something that really needs to be done by a member of staff.”

“But, Sophie has said she doesn’t mind.”

“No, Jessica. Anyway, we have Miss Jones primed and waiting.”

Jessica looked at Sophie and shrugged, resigned to playing only a minor role from now on.

“Right Sophie, do you have games kit with you?”

“She left her sports bag in my office, sir.” Jessica answered while Sophie was still pondering the question.

“Good, then you two cut along and get Sophie ready. I’ll pop along and make sure Miss Jones is ready for you. Okay?”

“Games kit? What’s that all about?” Sophie asked when she and the Head Girl were on their way, alone, to Jessica’s small office.

“Um, less protection for your bottom?” Jessica answered delicately.

“Oh, for heavens’ sakes!”

They were soon at Jessica’s office.

“Do I change here, or do we go down to the changing rooms?”

“I should change here, Sophie. Guaranteed privacy and all that. I’ll lock the door.”

Sophie soon pulled her white woollen top off, kicked her shoes off and slipped her tight black leggings down. Untangling the leggings from her feet made her almost fall over, and Jessica leant a supporting arm.

“Thanks, Jessica, although I’m not quite sure why I’m thanking you for helping me strip for a whacking.”

“Always pleased to help, Sophie.”

“Why do I get the feeling you’re enjoying this, Jessica?”

“I wouldn’t say I’m enjoying it, Sophie, although it is a bit more exciting than my usual Head Girl duties, and there’s a certain satisfaction in seeing someone who pushes the boundaries getting her come-uppance.”

“Ah, I was forgetting. My games kit is in the wash.” Sophie said as she delved into her sports bag. I’ve just got a couple of leotards I wear for gymnastics. What shall I do?”

“Wear one of them?” Jessica offered.

They won’t cover all my bottom!”

“Then well suited to the present situation, I’d say.”

“Gee, thanks, Jessica.”

“I’d go for the black one.” The Head Girl suggested as Sophie held up red and black leotards. “Don’t forget to take your underwear off.”

“You did lock the door, didn’t you?”

By the time Jessica had checked the door, Sophie pretty much had the leotard on, all bar a little pulling and pushing of material to gain as much coverage as the slender garment allowed.

“What shall I wear to the gym?” Sophie asked, looking again through her sports bag. “I think I’ve got a bath robe somewhere.”

“Might look a bit odd wearing a bath robe to walk along the corridors.” Jessica suggested.

“What? Put my leggings and top back on?”

“Why not just put the top back on? It will save having to take them off again. And girls do sometimes just walk around in their games kit.”

“Perhaps you’re right.” Jessica said, thinking mainly how to create as less embarrassment for herself as she could.

The four minutes it took for their slow walk to the gymnasium passed in silence. They entered the gym tentatively and found the door leading to the equipment store half open. They peered inside and found Miss Jones waiting for them.

“Ah, prisoner and escort, eh?”

“We are expected?” Jessica asked of the tall, slim, forty-five year old games mistress.

“Yes, the headmaster had asked me to wait here anyway, and he’s just confirmed this little arrangement is on. Apparently you’ve confirmed you’re willing to take a good whacking with the slipper; is that right, Sophie?”

“Mmm.” Sophie confirmed without enthusiasm, nodding and making her blond hair bounce.

“Sounds like the best option,” Miss Jones agreed. “Gets you out of a predicament with no fuss.”

“Mmm.” Sophie repeated.

“I see you’re rather well prepared!” Miss Jones noted with a wry grin.

“Yes,” Sophie responded wistfully.

“It was a choice of two leotards,” Jessica explained. “Red or black.”

“Good choice.” Miss Jones glanced at Jessica. “You’ll be staying, will you?”

“Yes, if that’s okay.”


The blond girl shrugged. “Makes no difference to me.”

“Right. Shall we get organised then?” Miss Jones half turned and indicated the low vaulting horse behind her. “There we are, Sophie. Bend yourself across that, bottom nice and high, and I’ll get the slipper.”

With Jessica’s hand on her shoulder for support, or was it to propel her forward, Sophie veered round the tall gym mistress and approached the vaulting horse, an old brown leather covered and padded affair that hadn’t seen proper use in the gym for some years. Miss Jones, meanwhile, bent down and rummaged inside a low, old cupboard.

“Are you ready?” Jessica asked, her hand still on Sophie’s shoulder.

Sophie leaned down onto the low vaulting horse, then looked round to see what Miss Jones was doing.

“Size eight, that’s what I was looking for.” The gym mistress straightened and held up a rather grubby white thin soled gym plimsoll. She came and stood close behind Jessica. “Ready when you are, girls.”

Sophie realised she had nothing to gain from prevaricating so she lowered herself further down until she lay across the padded vaulting horse. She reached down and touched the floor with the tips of her fingers.

“Tuck your knees in for me,” Miss Jones requested. “I want the seat of your leotard stretched a bit tighter across your bottom.”

Sophie adjusted her position. “Is that okay?”

“Yes, that’s fine. Thank you.”

“It feels like half my bottom is bare.”

“It is, Sophie. Rather a good choice of garment, actually. If you’re in for a whacking, I mean.”

“I said that!” Jessica noted.

Miss Jones looked at the Head Girl. “Did you now? Could you stand back a bit, so I can get at the target?”

“Oh, sorry! Did you want me to hold her, or anything?”

“I’m sure that won’t be necessary, Jessica.” The gym mistress waited while Jessica took a couple of steps back and then moved close to Sophie’s waiting leotard-clad bottom. “Sophie, the headmaster has decided that sixteen whacks of the slipper should equate to the eight he might have administered with a cane had one been available. Okay?”

“Fine.” Sophie murmured, now just wishing Miss Jones would get on with it.

The teacher responded by twice tapping the plimsoll against the seat of Sophie’s black leotard. Almost instantly she drew the slipper back and whipped the first stroke down.

“Ow!” Sophie cried, as much from surprise as the stinging sensation that now afflicted her bottom.

Miss Jones applied three more strokes in quick succession, one to the right buttock, one to the left, and one to the centre portion of the girl’s half naked bottom. Sophie grunted and gasped.

“My god! It’s turning red already!” Jessica noted excitedly. “Your bottom, I mean.”

Sophie ignored her. Miss Jones glared, and delivered two more strokes of the slipper, one each across Sophie’s left and right buttocks.

“When is your next gymnastics session, Sophie?” Miss Jones asked.

“Next Tuesday.”

“Oh, you’ll be fine by then.” The teacher commented, and promptly delivered single hard strokes to the left, right and centre of the lower, naked parts of Sophie’s bottom. “Hardly a mark left.”

The bending girl breathed sharply as the effect of the strokes hit home.

“Might be a bit sore sitting down in classes tomorrow.” Jessica suggested.

“Ow!!” Sophie exclaimed as a single stroke hit her hard in the centre of her bottom.

“All part of the punishment, I’m afraid.” Miss Jones responded, and delivered two more strokes to the left and right buttocks.

“Eeeesh!!” Sophie exclaimed.

“It’s looking really sore now.” Jessica noted.

“It’s feeling really sore too!”

“I’ve only ever had three.” Jessica replied. “In the third form, of course. A long time ago.” She added, lest anyone imagine it was a recent experience.

Miss Jones applied two more strokes to the now bruised and sore-looking bottom, to the left and right.

“Aaargh!” Sophie cried.

Another swing of the plimsoll slammed across the centre of her bottom.

“Better keep still!” Jessica warned as Sophie fidgeted.

“I am trying!”

A particularly loud bang echoed against the walls as Miss Jones whacked the slipper down onto Sophie’s vulnerable bottom with extra force.


“There, that’s it, Sophie. You’re done.”

“Thank god for that!” Sophie exclaimed as she began to struggle to her feet.

“Oh!” Jessica squealed. “Was that sixteen? That didn’t take long.”

Sophie turned her head and glared angrily at the Head girl.

“I’m sure I could manage a few more, if you’d like to take Sophie’s place.” Miss Jones offered.

“Oh no!” Jessica shrieked. “Anyway, I haven’t been naughty.”

“Then you’d better clear off, the pair of you. I do have a home to go to, you know. Although I’ll happily stay on a bit if you want to renew your acquaintance with the slipper, Jessica.”

“No, thank you, Miss Jones. Come along, Sophie, let’s get you back to my office. Will you inform the headmaster the punishment has been inflicted, Miss Jones?”

“Yes, I’ll do that on my way out.”

With Jessica hanging onto to Sophie’s arm, the two girls headed back to the Head Girl’s office.

“Is it difficult to walk?” Jessica asked.

“No, I’ve only got a sore bum, Jessica.”

“Really? Oh, well, and I don’t think I’ve got any cold cream.”

“Cold cream?”

“To apply to your bottom, of course.”

“Certainly not, Jessica!”

The End

© Kenny Walters 2016

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