The schools is modern and progessive, although the cane is still used

By Julie Baker

My name is Jenny and I attended a private day school in Birmingham in the late 1980s. It was an all-girls institution that I joined from the state system when I was 13. My only reservation at the time was that the school still had a regime of corporal punishment long after it had been abolished in most mainstream schools but my parents assured me that I shouldn’t worry too much because I was a naturally well behaved girl and, anyway, corporal punishment had done them no harm in their school days.

Looking back, the school was a peculiar mix of the traditional and the modern. The staff, including the headmistress, were all quite young, and in the sixth form we were encouraged to call all staff by their Christian names. This was an attempt to prepare us for university life and it felt like our teachers were more friends than figures of authority. However, there were certain ‘red lines’ that couldn’t be crossed and under certain circumstances all of the traditional disciplinary options were available to punish girls who transgressed.

In my early years at the school I must confess that I did earn the occasional slippering, usually for talking in class. A slippering was generally administered without delay and the girl in question had to bend over and grab her ankles when instructed. The teacher would then raise the back of the girl’s skirt and apply a plimsoll to their bottom which remained covered by their underwear. Four, or occasionally six, whacks were considered to be sufficient. For repeat offenders, or for particularly bad ‘crimes’, you could be sent to see the headmistress, Miss Jameson, who held the ultimate sanction of administering a caning. In my lower school years this never happened to me.

When I arrived in the sixth form, I suddenly felt very adult. I was calling my teachers and other staff by their first names and we were allowed to wear our own clothes. I was tall and slim in those days with blond hair and a fair complexion. We had to choose ‘business style’ outfits which included a blouse and skirt combination and I favoured darker colours matched with a white or cream blouse. This suited my colouring and gave me a good feeling about my appearance.

My best friend in the sixth form was someone called Kirstie. She was also a pretty girl, tall like mem and we had been team mates in the hockey team throughout our school years. However, without doing anything too horrendous, she seemed to always be in trouble with the teaching staff. She was regularly slippered in the lower school and occasionally she would be sent to see Miss Jameson to get the cane. She didn’t seem to mind the slipper, but she did everything she could to avoid a caning. This was administered to a girl’s bare bottom and the cane marks were visible for several days afterwards. It was always six red stripes that could be seen on these girls’ bottoms in the showers after games and none of them could recommend the experience as being in any way pleasant!

Kirstie and I spent a lot of our spare time together. Generally, I hoped that I was a good influence on her and I was always very careful not to allow her to lead me into trouble. However, ridiculously, we were both caught smoking one morning on school premises just before our A Level exams. I didn’t smoke much at the time, but my exams were causing me considerable stress and I just found that the occasional cigarette calmed my nerves. It was a silly mistake and I knew straight away that this would automatically lead to a caning. My heart sank.

We were reported to Miss Jameson, who we now called Sue, and she requested an interview with us both after we’d had our lunch that day. We reported to Helen Brown’s office; she was the school secretary at the time, and she showed us, via the interconnecting meeting room, into the head’s study. Sue greeted us with her normal radiant smile and seemed genuinely pleased to see us both. We talked about some recent school hockey matches and she asked us how our exam revision was going. It really felt as though there was nothing amiss. However, she then got onto the real reason that we were there in her study.

“I gather that you two were both caught smoking this morning,” she stated. “You do realise that the governors don’t give me any discretion when it comes to punishments for smoking, don’t you?”

“Yes, Sue, we have discussed it and we know that you are going to have to give us the cane,” replied Kirstie. “Not great, but we are the ones who have made the mistake. Is there any chance that you could cane me but only give Jenny the slipper, given that she has never been in serious trouble before?”

“That’s a kind thought, Kirstie, but the rules state that anyone caught smoking on school premises must receive the cane. I know you are both over 18 but if you want to stay on here and take your exams you must both accept your punishments. Are you OK with this Jenny?”

“Of course. That’s fine with me, Sue, and I’m sorry that I’ve put you in this position. If you can go a bit easy, that would be great as it is my first time in this position, but I am expecting you to use the cane on me as I knew that would be the penalty if I was caught.”

“Thanks for that, Jenny, but you will get the same degree of punishment as Kirstie. I think that’s only fair. Now off you go and make the arrangements with Helen. I’ll see you both in the meeting room in a few minutes.”

We walked back through the meeting room and into Helen’s office once again. It was obvious that Kirstie saw herself as the senior partner in this situation and was providing the lead at all times.

“’We’re both getting the cane, Helen,” she stated in a matter-of-fact manner.

“Oh dear. That’s a shame.” Helen looked genuinely disappointed for us. “Are you getting it now? she asked.

“Yes,” said Kirstie. “Sue said that she would give it to us in a few minutes.”

“OK, we had better get prepared then.” Helen turned to me. “Is this your first time for the cane, Jenny?”

“Yes, Helen, first time for a caning. I’ve had the slipper before,” I added, trying to sound even slightly experienced in these matters.

“Well, the first thing you need to do is to choose between the thin and thick cane. I know Kirstie likes the thin one.”

“Hey, hang on a minute, Helen!” burst in Kirstie. “That’s a bit strong. I certainly wouldn’t say that I like either of the canes. And I’ve tried both, as you know!”

“OK, sorry. Maybe it’s better to say that Kirstie prefers the thin one.”

“Even that’s maybe sounding a bit more positive than I feel, Helen. But yes, if I’ve got to have one of them, I think the thin one suits me a bit better.”

“Well, you don’t have to have the same one, girls. What do you think, Jenny?”

“Could I have a look at them both and then decide?” I asked.

“Of course you can. You two go next door and get yourself ready. Kirstie knows the routine so she will keep you right Jenny. I’ll be through shortly with both canes and then you can choose.”

Kirstie and I went back into the meeting room. It was more like a wide passage, really, with doors at each end and a rectangular table along the length of the room. The table was located more towards the windows, allowing anyone to easily to pass between the two end rooms, and had six chairs along each side plus a chair with arms at each end.

“You do realise, Jen, that we’ll be getting the cane on our bare bottoms, don’t you?”

“Yes, I know,” I replied. “I’m dreading it.”

“Oh, don’t worry. Yes, it’s horrible but it will soon be over. We need to take off our skirts and knickers and then wait for Helen to bring in the canes.”

This felt like the ultimate humiliation. I was an 18-year-old adult, yet here I was stripping off from the waist downwards to get my bottom punished. I could hardly believe it! I took my skirt off and neatly folded it before placing it on the end of the table. I happened to have my favourite white silky panties on that day, but they were soon slipping over my thighs and down my legs before they were laying on top of my skirt. I noticed that the bright white contrasted sharply against the colouring of my dark navy skirt.

“Do we leave our shoes and socks on?” I asked Kirstie.

“I normally take my shoes off but leave my socks on,” Kirstie replied. “I always think it’s a bit of a daft look with shoes on and no skirt in place. But it’s up to you, Jen. Whatever you feel most comfortable with.”

I went with her advice.

We had just completed this exercise when Helen came into the room holding two canes.

“Here you are, Jenny,” she said as she handed me the canes. “Which one do you fancy?”

I held both of them in my hands. They were a bit like my mum’s garden canes but you could see that they were denser, darker in colour and about a metre in length. I expected them to have a crook handle, but actually they were straight with a black leather handle wound around one end to facilitate a good, tight grip. I tapped each one onto my open hand to try to get some idea as to which might be best. It was impossible to form an opinion.

“Well, I’m a bit like Kirstie; I don’t like either of them really! What do you think, Helen?” I asked.

“I’m not sure as, it hopefully goes without saying, I’ve no first-hand experience of either of them. Maybe turn round and we’ll have a look at your bottom,” she offered helpfully.

Further humiliation for me. I turned round and I could feel Kirstie lifting the back of my blouse so that they could get a better look at the intended target. I could feel them testing the texture of my bottom by gently squeezing the flesh and prodding it with their fingers. I waited for the verdict.

“Well, it’s a bit like yours, Kirstie,” I heard Helen say. “It’s quite small with not much flesh on it, I’d say. From what I’ve seen over the years, the girls with the bigger bottoms seem to get on better with the heavier cane. Maybe a bit more flesh to absorb the impact and their skin is perhaps softer and less suited to taking the sharper impact of the thinner one. What do you think Kirstie?”

“I agree, Helen. I really don’t like the thicker one. It leaves terrible bruises on me and the pain seems to go deep inside your body. Yes, the thin one stings like crazy but on balance it is better for me.”

After this discussion, I could feel the back of my blouse drop back into place and once more Helen was speaking to me.

“We think the thin one, Jenny, but ultimately it’s your call.”

I couldn’t really believe that we were having this conversation. It felt like we were deciding what to have for supper or whether we would go and watch a film at the weekend. The tone was so normal with no sense of the terrible ordeal that we were both about to experience. It was obvious that Helen regarding a caning as totally routine, and even Kirstie was showing no signs of nerves. I can only describe the scene as being somewhat surreal.

“OK, let’s run with the thin one,” I eventually replied.

Helen left the room to return the unwanted cane to her cupboard, leaving the thin one lying in the middle of the table. Kirstie and I were once again left alone.

“I’m afraid the next bit isn’t great, Jen. The procedure now is that we have to stand on the far side of the table between the windows, facing the wall with our hands on our heads. We have to stay in this position until Sue comes in to deal with us.”

I followed Kirstie round to the far side of the table, and I took up my position next to her. As soon as I put my hands on my head, I realised that the tail of my blouse was raised higher, leaving my bottom totally exposed. This was part of the process of humiliation, I supposed. We must have been like this for five minutes when we heard voices in Helen’s office. We only had two male members of staff and there was no doubt that this was Gary Jones, our young maths teacher, talking to Helen. We could hear that he wanted to have a quick word with the headmistress, but we could also hear that Helen was trying to put him off. Finally, we could hear her coming clean.

“Actually, I’ve got Kirstie and Jenny next door in a state of partial undress, waiting to be caned. Could you come back later?”

“Sue sent me a message to see her urgently. I’d better pop my head round her door so that she knows I’ve responded.”

I could feel my heart thumping and then drop like a stone.

“OK,” I heard Helen say. “But please ignore those two girls as you pass through.”

Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, it promptly did. We heard Gary’s footsteps behind us, and I was convinced that he wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation to look at our pristine bottoms waiting to be caned. He had this opportunity twice, in fact, as he then made the return journey a few minutes later. Not long afterwards, we heard the door into Sue’s office open behind us and soon she was addressing us.

“Well done, girls, it looks like you are ready for me. You can lower your arms now and please come round to this side of the table.”

We did as instructed. Meantime, Sue poked her head into Helen’s office.

“We’re ready to get this done Helen. Please come in to witness the canings and bring the punishment book with you.”

Soon, all four of us were grouped together by the table.

“Who’s going first?” Sue asked.

“I suppose it should be me,” replied Kirstie.

“Yes, that’s probably best,” said Sue. “You know the routine and it will give Jenny a chance to decide what position she wants to take.” Sue turned to me. “It’s your choice, Jenny. Kirstie likes to bend over the edge of the table and lay her top half flat on the table top. Some of the girls prefer to grip the edges of a chair seat, and sometimes I get one who simply bends over by grabbing her ankles or touching her toes. It’s really up to you, but I do need a clear sight of your bottom and room to swing the cane. Have a think about it while I deal with Kirstie.”

Another surreal conversation!

“OK, Kirstie, get yourself bent over the table when you are ready. Today, you are getting six strokes of the cane for smoking on school premises. Do you understand?”

“Yes Miss,” she replied.

Kirstie then went to the right-hand end of the table, pulled out the chair and placed it to the side. This cleared a space for her to stand facing down the length of the table. She then slowly lowered herself onto the table and in so doing the back of her blouse rose up, exposing her bottom. She then stretched out her arms above her head. Kirstie had adopted a position of total surrender, and her bottom was entirely at Sue’s mercy.

Nothing more was said. Sue picked up the cane and took up a position by Kirstie that allowed her to place the tip of the cane onto Kirstie’s left buttock, which was closest to her. She tapped the cane on her skin a few times and then the first stroke landed. I could see the indent of the cane on her flesh and there was a crack as the cane impacted. Kirstie let out a sharp yelp and a few seconds later I could see a white line on her skin emerge where the cane had landed. There was maybe five seconds before the second stroke, but it felt much longer than that. Time seemed to be standing still. Again, Kirstie let out a low moan but no shift in her position on the table. The next two strokes followed, and I could see Kirstie’s chest begin to heave as her breathing deepened. She was desperately trying to maintain control. Number five seemed to be a bit softer but the last stroke was definitely the worst.

As she got up from the table and turned towards us, I could see that her eyes were filled with tears. She was not crying but was pretty close to it. She had been hurt, but was fighting to preserve her dignity. This was setting a high benchmark for me, I was thinking.

“Well done, Kirstie,” I heard Sue saying. “You are a tough, brave girl.”

“Thanks, Sue, but I’m really hoping that’s the last time I’ve got to go through that!”

“Well, I’m with you on that one. Necessary, but not pleasant.”

Then the moment that I was dreading.

“Your turn now, Jenny. Have you decided what’s best for you when I need you to bend over?”

“I’m not really sure, but I guess it’s probably not going to make a lot of difference,” I replied. “On balance, I think maybe using the chair sounds best as the table top is very solid and I’m not sure that I could stay balanced if I’m touching my toes. Is that OK with you, Sue?”

“Of course it is, Jenny. I have to cane you, but I’m wanting you to feel that you have been well treated and that the experience is as good as it could be under these difficult circumstances. The chair it is, then. I suggest you pull out one that doesn’t have arms. Bring it over here and, when you are ready, I would like you to grip the sides of the seat so that your bottom is presented towards me. In your own time, Jenny, as I can imagine that you are finding this a bit strange and traumatic.”

I did as I had been instructed, and I was soon bent over waiting for my punishment.

“You are not quite as doubled up as Kirstie in this position,” I heard Sue say. “So, if it’s OK with you, I’m going to have to lift up the tail of your blouse and tuck it into your bra strap to keep it in place. I need to have a bare bottom to cane so that I can see the effect of each stroke on your skin. Believe it or not, it’s for your own good and it is no use if the tail of your blouse drops down over your bottom during the caning. Hopefully, that explains why the procedure is slightly different with you.”

I didn’t think that this explanation required a response from me. I felt my blouse tail being rearranged and a few moments later I sensed the tip of the cane tapping my buttocks.

“Final request, Jenny,” I heard Sue say. “Please create a hollow in your lower back so that your bottom sticks out a bit more. This will give me a better target area to work with.”

I did as requested.

“Is that better?” I asked.

“Yes, thank you, Jenny.”

The whole process seemed so unbelievably polite!

Sue then gave me a similar address to the one she had given to Kirstie.

“I’m about to give you six strokes of the cane for smoking on school premises, Jenny. Do you understand?”

“Yes Miss,” I replied.

I had seen Kirstie being caned a few minutes before, but that had not prepared me for that first cane stroke. Yes, I had got the slipper a few times in my school career but that was nothing compared to the cane. The slipper was unpleasant, but the cane was in a different league. I let out a sharp scream after the first one, which was entirely involuntary and unexpected.

“Sorry, Sue, that caught me completely by surprise,” I spluttered. “I’ll try to cope better with the next ones.”

“No problem, Jenny. This is your first time and I know that you’ll be having a tough time of it. Don’t worry. If it is better for you to make a noise, then go ahead. Do what you need to do to cope as best you can. It will soon be over.”

I was determined to put on a good show. Not once did I cry out again, although it must have been obvious that I was struggling, given my laboured breathing and my white knuckles from gripping so tightly to that chair seat. It was horrendous. Once again, the last one was noticeably harder, and it did reduce me to a series of silent sobs. I could feel the tears running down my cheeks which, at the time, really disappointed me. As I got up, I wiped them away with the back of my hand. Sue gave my shoulder an affectionate squeeze.

“Very impressive, Jenny, for a first timer,” she said in a soft, kind voice. “Let’s hope that’s both a first and last caning for you!”

“Yes, thank you, Sue,” I replied in as strong a voice as I could manage.

“OK, it just remains to sign the book and then you are both free to go.”

Helen placed the book on the table. She had already filled out the two entries complete with that day’s date, our names, our form, our ages, our offences, the implement used on us and the number of strokes. Every entry said ‘cane’ as there was no requirement to go in the book if you had only been slippered. There was then a place for Sue to sign as the provider of the punishment, a place for Helen to sign as the witness, and finally a place for Kirstie and me to sign as the recipients.

It just remained for us to put our panties back on over our sore bottoms and replace our skirts. Before long, we were back in the sixth form common room. It would be nice to think that our canings were a confidential affair with nobody else aware of what was going on apart from those people directly involved. No chance!

During my time at school, when a girl was caned in our year, she was always asked to show everyone her cane marks afterwards. Some girls were too ashamed or embarrassed to comply with these requests, although generally it was hard to avoid others seeing the effects in the showers. Frankly, I was past caring. Kirstie always showed us her cane marks, and I couldn’t see any reason not to show off mine. I think I was pumped full of adrenalin at the time and filled with a sense of bravado. It was almost like a badge of honour, and I was happy, even proud, for my classmates to see that I could cope with a true ‘six of the best’ experience.

I had a lovely set of marks, six evenly spaced red lines which took well over a week to fade way. I can look back now and actually say that I’m pleased that I took that caning all those years ago. The experience triggered emotions within me that I might not have had the benefit of had I not been caught smoking on that fateful day.

The End

© Julie Baker 2019

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