The story continues with Ann and a friend both facing punishment, for different reasons.

By Penny Morton

Eighteen-year-old Ann Simpson, a sixth-former at the High School, sighed as she struggled with her advanced maths homework.

“Mrs Wilson, just down the lane, told me that maths was her son John’s best subject,” Said Ann’s mother. “Apparently he helps a number of boys at his school with maths and I am sure he’d help you if we asked.”

“Perhaps he would, Mummy,” Ann replied quietly.

“You might have seen him when you deliver the Wilson’s papers. He’s still at the Grammar School and hopes to do maths at University.”

“Er, yes, I think I might have seen him, Mummy.” Ann wished she didn’t blush so easily.

Ann was telling a little white lie because she already knew John Wilson quite well, having fallen foul of him when she rescued the family’s kitten from the Wilson’s garden three weeks previously. She had climbed over the garden wall and accidentally dislodged some loose masonry. John had caught her in the act and had taken into the kitchen to discuss her trespassing and the costly damage done to the wall. He went through possible punishments, including sending for the police or reporting Ann to her parents.

Ann pleaded with John to let her off. Her parents were still very strict with her. Despite being eighteen and a sixth former at the High School, she was still spanked by her parents if she was naughty or disobeyed their rules. Her father had a supple leather strap which he used on her bare bottom for more serious offences like getting a detention at school.

She opted for a spanking from John for the trespassing. Once the estimate for repairing the damaged wall was received a suitable further punishment would be awarded. Wearing her white summer shorts and a blouse, Ann had been put across John’s knee and given twenty-four hard spanks on her plump but shapely bottom.

A week later, John informed Ann that the estimate for rebuilding the garden wall was four hundred pounds. Ann had only twenty-five pounds in her savings bank and couldn’t pay for the wall. The only way she could pay back this enormous debt was to ask John to spank it off. One spank would count as twenty-five pence and so a total of 1600 spanks would be required altogether.

John had kindly agreed that twenty-four spanks should be given each Saturday morning. He also offered to slipper some of Ann’s debt off at fifty pence a stroke and so on Saturday mornings she had twenty-four spanks across John’s knee followed by six of the slipper bending over a chair, thus paying off nine pounds each week. It would take 45 weeks for Ann’s debt to be fully repaid.

Mrs Simpson had asked John to help Ann with her maths and so it was arranged that Ann should go for an hour’s tutorial each Saturday morning after her paper round. In addition, and unknown to her parents, she was spanked and slippered when the tutorial was finished.

Ann’s best school friend, Polly Bradshaw, was coming for a long weekend’s sleepover extending over four nights. Ann warned Polly that her parents were old fashioned and very strict. Polly had only been at the High School for a year and, although well behaved, she was rather impulsive. She had encouraged Ann and two other friends, Belinda and Margaret, to go shopping at lunchtime against the High School’s rules. The four girls were caught and reported to the headmistress, Miss Henderson, who caned them all at the end of afternoon school. Letters were sent home and Ann received a twelve stroke strapping from her father before bedtime.

Polly would bring her bike so she could accompany Ann on her paper rounds.  She would also attend Ann’s maths tutorial with John on Saturday morning, but Ann wasn’t quite sure what she should do about her weekly punishment session with John. Should she ask Polly to wait outside while she was spanked and slippered or should she ask John to delay her weekly punishment?

Polly came home with Ann after school on Thursday with both girls still in their school uniform of dark blue blazers, white blouses and striped blue and white ties. Their pleated grey skirts were of mini length and they had long white socks up to their knees. Polly was a pretty girl with a ready smile. She had long dark hair usually tied up into a topknot. After saying hullo to Ann’s mother, the girls went upstairs to Ann’s twin bedded room.

“What’s that Ann?” Asked Polly, pointing to a supple leather strap hanging from a hook at the side of the wardrobe.

“It’s used on me if I have been a very naughty girl.” Ann blushed as she replied. “I was whacked with that after we had been caned on that dreadful day last term. Daddy says having the strap hanging there will always remind me of what’s waiting for naughty girls. I oil it each week to keep it supple and increase its sting.” Explained Ann.

“Gosh! Do you remember how furious Miss Henderson was when she caned us?” Asked Polly.

“I’ll never forget it!” Ann managed a little smile. “It was awful having to wait until after the last lesson to go to Miss Henderson’s study. Then that horrible telling off and finally being sentenced to the cane; six of the best.”

“Yes, and waiting outside her study to be called in one at a time. I think Belinda went first.” Commented Polly.

“And the horrible sound of the caning and the dreadful sting of the cane.” Ann put her hands protectively on her bottom. “After we’d been caned we all went to the changing room and looked at our poor little bums in the mirror, each with six red double lines equally spaced out.”

“Get on with your homework, girls.” Said Mrs Simpson, leaving Ann and Polly at the dining room table while she read in the sitting room. “No talking until I give you permission.”

The girls grinned and got on with their homework. They wrote each other little notes, communicated by lip reading and whispered very quietly. Mrs Simpson had extremely good hearing.

“I shan’t warn you again, Ann.” Said Mrs Simpson, getting to her feet and looking into the dining room. “What are these pieces of paper?”

“Oh sorry, Mummy, they’re notes. I had to ask Polly an urgent question. I’m really sorry.”

“You will be if I hear another sound, OK?”

“Yes Mummy. Sorry.” Ann hoped her mother wouldn’t punish her when Polly was staying.

After two hours, homework was complete and Mrs Simpson told the girls to go up, shower and change into their pyjamas, and then come down for cocoa and biscuits.

When the girls came back, Mrs Simpson had their supper on the table.

“Ann, go and get my handbag.” She said.

“Please, no, Mummy.” Replied Ann, blushing and knowing that this simple request might indicate an approaching punishment.

“Despite being told not to talk, or write messages, I know you continued to do so and I’m going to punish you for disobedience.  Get my bag!”

‘Yes, Mummy.” Blushing more deeply, Ann fetched a large handbag for her mother.

“Do you know what this is, Polly?” Asked Mrs Simpson, removing a flat piece of pale yellow hard wood with a small handle from her bag. It was about 20 cm in length.

“Er, no, Mrs Simpson. Is it a little shovel?”

“No, Polly, it’s a butter pat used to shape butter and also to spank the bottoms of naughty girls. I like it because it doesn’t sting my hands when I spank Ann and it saves my nails from breaking too.”

“Oh Gosh.” Said Polly. “But Mrs Simpson, I was partly responsible for our behaviour so I think I should be spanked too.”

“Well I see what you mean.  Right, Ann will have twelve strokes and you, Polly, will have six.”

“Get over my knee, Ann.” Ordered Mrs Simpson, sitting on a small chair.

Ann got quickly into position, hoping her mother wouldn’t take her pyjamas down.”

‘Right, it’s a bare bottom for you, my girl.” Said her mother, pulling Ann’s pyjamas down to her knees.

Ann raised herself on her mother’s lap so that her pyjamas could be taken down without difficulty.

After making small adjustments to Ann’s position, Mrs Simpson began to spank her daughter. She spanked hard, slowly and methodically to cover the whole of Ann’s plump bare bottom. The butter pat made a loud noise, ‘Splack!’, and Ann gasped quietly as each stroke landed. Polly looked on anxiously. The last four strokes landed at the junction of Ann’s bottom and thighs making her gasp and add a whispered: “Ow.”

“Get up.” Ordered Mrs Simpson, and Ann immediately pulled up her pyjama bottoms.

“Did I tell you to pull your pyjamas up, Ann.?” Asked Mrs Simpson.

“No, Mummy. Sorry.”

“Take them down immediately and go and stand facing the wall.”

Ann tearfully obeyed her mother and stood against the wall with her pyjama bottoms round her ankles, leaving her bright pink bottom on display. Polly was ordered to bend over Mrs Simpson’s knee.

She did not have her bottom bared and received six hard spanks: ‘Splack! Splack!, Splack!, Splack!, Splack!, Splack! Each of which made her say: “Ow!” And squirm over Mrs Simpson’s knees.

“You can get up now, Polly. Ann, pull your trousers up and then you can both go up to bed. Lights out in ten minutes and no talking.”

Ann kissed her mother goodnight. “Good night, Mummy.” She said quietly, her face still damp with tears.

The girls whispered goodnight and had a little hug before climbing into their beds. Ann jumped out again very quickly and knelt down beside her bed to say her prayers. Back in bed, she lay on her tummy and so did Polly.

As they cycled back from The High School on Friday afternoon, Polly offered to buy Ann some squash at the little cafe near her home.

“Thanks, Polly, that would be super. We’d better hide our bikes at the back so Mummy doesn’t see them.”

“So tell me about this John we’re going to see for the maths tutorial tomorrow? Is he dishy and do you fancy him?”

“Well, yes, but he’s rather strict and good at helping with…”

Ann paused and tears came into her eyes. She felt she would have to tell Polly the truth about the damage she’d done to the Wilson’s wall when the kitten ran into their garden. She told Polly about John catching her trespassing and threatening to call the police or tell her parents. John had agreed to punish her by spanking her over his knee. The only way she could pay for the wall damage was by being spanked every week. John had kindly let her pay the bill more quickly by having the slipper each week as well as a spanking. By being spanked and then slippered, her bill for the wall would be reduced by nine pounds a week.

“So you’ve actually had the slipper from a young man, darling?” Asked Polly, looking thoughtful and interested. “You lucky thing. I’d quite fancy that experience!”

“Have you had the slipper before, Polly?” Asked Ann.

“Yes, loads of times from the mistresses and prefects at my last school.” Polly grinned and wrinkled her nose. “Before we moved here and I came to the High School, I went to a girls’ boarding school called St Mary’s.” She explained. “Lots of the mistresses and the prefects gave the slipper there!”

“So you know how much the slipper stings?” Asked Ann.

“Gosh yes, but I’d much, much rather have the slipper than detention or lines. It hurts and stings like mad but it’s over quickly and you get quite a nice warm glow in your bottom later on.”

“Did they cane girls at St Mary’s?”

“Yes, the headmistress, Miss Gregory, did but I didn’t get the cane until we four had it here last term.”

“I’d never had the slipper before until I had it from John.” Explained Ann. “I daren’t tell Mummy or Daddy because they would give me a strapping too.”

“Does John hit very hard?” Asked Polly.

“Yes, it really stings and he’s very fit from playing sport and things. He’s a prefect at his school and is allowed to slipper naughty boys there. He’s known as ‘Whacker Wilson’ at school. He makes me call him ‘Sir’ too.”

Both girls shivered involuntarily, Polly with excitement and Ann with anxiety. They both sipped their squashes thoughtfully.

“Well I will definitely ask for a spanking and the slipper from John too tomorrow, providing he reduces your bill.” Said Polly with a grin.

“No, you can’t do that, Polly darling, but thanks for offering.” Replied Ann.

“No, I’m going to be whacked too, provided he takes another nine pounds off your bill.”

Just then three boys came into the cafe wearing red blazers and grey trousers. They chose a table across the other side of the cafe and ordered tea and buns.

“Oh no!” Whispered Ann, hiding her face in her hands. “It’s him!”

“Who, darling?” Asked Polly, patting her friend’s arm.

“It’s John; he’s the biggest of those three boys over there.” Said Ann, briefly peeping at the boys to make sure she was right. She was.

“Oh he’s rather dishy and quite a hunk.” Observed Polly with a wide grin. “I quite fancy getting a spanking and the slipper from him. He makes me go all gooey.”

Polly made a few more comments but Ann thought they ought to make a move. They had to walk past the boys’ table to reach the door. Ann hoped she wouldn’t be recognised. With Ann now blushing deeply, the girls started to walk quickly towards the exit.

“Oh! Hullo Ann!” Boomed John. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Er, er, sorry, hullo Sir.” Ann stuttered.

The boys ran their eyes admiringly over the two attractive schoolgirls in their smart school uniform.

“Who’s your friend?” Asked John.

“Oh, sorry Sir. I should have, er, this is my friend Polly.” Said Ann.

John introduced his friends, Gary and Wills.

“I believe you are joining Ann for my maths tutorial tomorrow, Polly.” Said John, getting to his feet to shake Polly’s hand and holding it for quite a long time.

“Yes, I’m looking forward to it although Ann says you are quite strict.” Smiled Polly, conscious of how strong John’s hands were.

“Well I have a reputation for strictness at school; I’m a prefect, you know.”

“Gosh, I wouldn’t want to be a naughty boy.” Pouted Polly.

“I tend to beat sinners first and ask questions afterwards.” Said John in a loud voice.

“Gosh, you’re so masterful!”

“I think perhaps we had better go home. Mummy will…” Ann whispered.

“See you in the morning, girls, and don’t be late.” Said John rather loudly.

‘No, we daren’t be late, Sir.” Polly sounded rather cheeky.

“Gee whiz, you lucky man, John. I would love to have a pair of girls like that to tutor.” Said Wills and Gary as the girls left.

“Yes, but they have to behave themselves.” Replied John.

“What do you do if they misbehave?”

“I punish them severely. Now, shut up about girls and let’s talk about the match.”

The girls cycled off towards Ann’s home.

“Golly, what a guy! Ann, you must fancy him!” Said Polly.

“Well I suppose I do a bit but I feel I have to be careful or I might get extra punishment. Mummy and Daddy don’t like me talking to boys.”

“I wouldn’t mind getting extra punishment from such a masterful boy.” Said Polly as they girls reached Ann’s house.

“Shush, please.” Pleaded Ann.

“How was school today girls?” Asked Mrs Simpson. “By the way, Daddy phoned to say he hasn’t finished his work in London and won’t be back until Monday.”

“School wasn’t too bad, thank you.” Said Polly politely. “But we’ve got stacks of prep, haven’t we Ann?”

“Yes, rather a lot and we’ve got to work specially hard on our English essays.” Replied Ann.

“I’m glad Miss Sinker insists on high standards and punishes you if there is any nonsense.” Observed Mrs Simpson.

“Yes, if she’s annoyed you are soon sentenced to detention.” Said Polly.

The evening passed quickly as the girls settled down to their homework with their thoughts frequently straying to their tutorial with John in the morning.   Mrs Simpson didn’t have to punish them and they went to bed still thinking about John and what would happen to their bottoms in the morning.

The girls got up just before seven and went to collect Ann’s papers for delivery. Polly decided to wear a blue top, black lightweight leggings and a very short black skirt. Ann wore a white blouse and her white summer shorts.  Mrs Simpson had planned a shopping trip, meeting Mrs Wilson and would see the girls at lunchtime.

John opened the door and ushered Ann and Polly into the dining room where a small blackboard had been set up. The girls sat side-by-side at the dining room table and listened attentively as John explained quadratic equations.  He insisted the girls addressed him as ‘Sir’ and put up their hands if they wanted to ask questions, which they did quite frequently. They had to stand up when they asked a question.

“Gosh, it’s as strict as my last school – St Mary’s.” Whispered Polly.

“Did you speak, girl?” Snapped John.

“Yes sir. Sorry Sir, I said you were very strict.”

“Stand up! If you do it again I’ll punish you.!” Said John crossly.

“What would you do to me, Sir?” Asked Polly, raising her eyebrows.

“If you were a boy I’d slipper you. But you will write out ‘I must not talk in class’ one hundred times by next week. Sit down!”

“Yes Sir, Sorry Sir.’ Polly said quietly.

The tutorial had gone well and the girls now really understood quadratic equations.

“Come with me to the potting shed, Ann.” Said John.

“What happens in the potting shed?” Said Polly innocently.

“I punish naughty girls there.”

“I’d like to be punished too, if it can come off Ann’s bill. She’s told me about that.”

‘Well you’d better come along then.” Said John.

The girls held hands as they walked behind John to the potting shed where Ann paid for her sins.

“Oooh it’s a bit spooky in here.” Shivered Polly, spotting an elderly gym shoe on the table.

Ann gave a tiny smile of sympathy.

“Right, it’s twenty-four spanks and then six of the slipper each. Ann, come and bend over my knee.”

“Yes Sir.” Ann quickly got into position with her plump, thinly covered bottom conveniently over John’s lap. Her fair hair was near the floor and her feet were just touching the floor on the other side of John’s lap.

‘Spank! Spank!’ John started spanking Ann, pausing between the strokes to allow her to appreciate the full sting before the next spank.

Polly stood close by, wondering what she had let herself in for.

The spanks and Ann’s gasps reverberated around the potting shed.

“Get up girl.” Said John after giving Ann twenty-four spanks and ‘One for luck’.  She got quickly to her feet clasping both her hands to her bottom.

“Ann, you didn’t tell me what your parents do before they spank you.” Said John, remembering hearing about Ann’s parents insisting her pants were down. “Remind me to deal with you for that omission another time.”

“Yes Sir.”

“Get over my knee, Polly.” Came the order, and John adjusted her position to get her in the perfect place and posture for spanking. Polly’s bottom was rounder and smaller than Ann’s; apple-like, thought John. John flicked her short skirt forward, leaving just her lightweight leggings and her pants to protect her bottom.

‘Spank! Spank! Polly’s spanking began, each stroke being followed by an ‘Oww!’ The Ows got louder as the spanking progressed and the burning sting in her bottom became more intense. Polly had ‘one for luck’ after her twenty-four strokes and was ordered to get up.

“Gosh! Whew! You can’t half spank, Sir.” Commented Polly with a slight tremble in her voice as she vigorously rubbed her bottom.

“I can’t half slipper too!” Said John, reaching for the gym shoe and flexing it purposefully. “As you will soon discover! Ann, come and bend over the chair; you know how I like you.”

Ann got quickly into position, presenting her burning bottom for the slipper.  She could see her bare legs and knees through the back of the chair. Polly looking on anxiously at John, rolling up his sleeves and getting ready to beat her.

John thought what an attractive target Ann made and with luck he would be repeating her punishment for many more weeks to come.

‘Whack!’ ‘Whack!’ The slipper landed loudly quite high up on the right and left sides of Ann’s bottom.

“Ow! Er, sorry, One, thank you, sir. Oww! Two, thank you, sir.” Ann gasped, conscious of the intense sting in her already tenderised bottom.

Polly could see that John was really whacking the slipper down and that Ann’s summer shorts gave her bottom minimum protection. Four more strokes followed and Polly could see that Ann was struggling to hold the chair. Ann hoped her punishment was over but John finally gave her a hard ‘One for luck’ stroke and then allowed her to stand.

Ann screwed her hot, perspiring face up and clasped her bottom with both hands, taking a few steps as she tried to disperse the sting.

“Do you really want to go ahead? Please don’t do it for me, Polly. The slipper really hurts.” Queried Ann.

“I can see that, darling, but I’m going to give it a try. Where would you like me, sir?”

“Come and bend over this chair, bottom out, head down, keep still and count the strokes!” Ordered John.

“Hm, any other orders, Sir?”

“Don’t be impertinent, girl!” John snapped as he gave Polly her first two hard strokes. Her very short skirt had ridden up as she bent over, leaving just her leggings and pants to protect her neatly rounded bottom from the slipper.

“Owwwww!” Protested Polly as she wriggled her bottom across the back of the chair and lifted her right leg. “God it stings!”

“It’s meant to sting, you stupid girl!” Said John, whacking the third and fourth strokes down.

“I’m not stupid!” Polly said crossly, fighting back her tears.

“What did you say girl? Would you like me to give you extra for insolence?” Asked John, tapping the slipper against Polly’s bottom.

Polly looked round in desperation as she fought an urge to get up and run away.

“You’d better apologise, darling.” Whispered Ann.

“I’m sorry! Yes, I am stupid!” Polly sobbed. “No, I don’t want extra. Four, thank you Sir. Please finish my punishment.”

John adjusted Polly’s position slightly and gave her the fifth and sixth strokes low down on her bottom and then a final ‘One for luck.’

“Get up girl. Hands on your head.” Ordered John. “Put your hands up too, Ann.”

After a few moments he dismissed the girls.

As the hot and slightly tearful girls got to John’s front gate they met his friends, Gary and Wills, from the cafe coming in.

“You look a bit sorry for yourselves, girls.” Said Wills.

“We are a bit bloody sorry for ourselves!” Said Polly crossly.

“Shush, Polly, we’d better get home.” Cautioned Ann.

“Why are you sorry for yourself, Polly?” Asked Wills.

“Because your big, bossy, bumptious friend, His Royal Highness John, has just given us both a spanking and then six, no seven, of the slipper, and our poor little bums are very sore, aren’t they, Ann?” Said Polly.

“Erm, yes, they are.” Replied Ann quietly as she ran her fingers over her tender bottom.

“It serves you right for being naughty girls.” Said Gary.

“I don’t think you look very sorry. I think you’re pretending to be sorry but you really deserve further punishment for making derogatory remarks about John.” Added Wills.

“I think we better take you back to see John.” Said Gary, putting a hand on Polly’s shoulder and turning her round.  Wills did the same with Ann.

A few minutes later John, Gary and Wills were sitting on stools in the Wilson’s kitchen, sipping coffee. The girls were standing in front of them with their hands on their heads.

“From what you have said, chaps, these two girls are guilty of gross insolence, impertinence and disrespect to prefects.” Said John.

“No question about it.” Said Wills. Gary nodded his agreement.

“Have you anything to say for yourselves before we punish you?” Asked John in a magisterial voice.

“We’re sorry we said what we did, but we were rather stressed after our punishments.” Ann confessed.

“Can I make a suggestion John?” Asked Gary.

“Yes please.”

“I think their rudeness, insolence and impertinence are so serious that they must be punished with a caning.”

“I agree.” Said Wills.

“A caning?” Queried Polly, looking a little pale.

“A caning for that?” Gasped Ann in disbelief.

“So you don’t think you deserve to be caned?”

“No!” Replied the girls in unison.

“We’ll take a vote.” Said John. “Hands up who think these girls should be caned?”

Gary and Will’s hands went up immediately.

“Hands up those who think they shouldn’t be caned. You can take your hands off your heads, girls.”

The girls immediately held their hands up to vote against a caning.

“Hands on heads again, girls” Ordered John. “So the vote is a draw, two for a caning and two against, but as chairman I have a casting vote and I vote for a caning.”

“Please, that’s not fair Sir!” Protested the girls.

“Perhaps I should ring Miss Henderson at the High School for advice?” Mused John.

“Oh, please no, sir.” Begged Ann, anxious to avoid Miss Henderson hearing anything about their misdemeanours.

“Or I could ask a student teacher friend of mine. She’s an expert in dealing with naughty girls.” Said John. “I’ll see if I can get her on the phone.”

“Can we put our hands down, Sir, our arms are aching?” Asked Polly.

“Yes, but silence while I’m on the phone!” Said John, turning up the volume of the phone.

“Melanie speaking.” Said a rather high, aristocratic voice. “How can I help?”

John described the offences committed by the girls.

“These are serious offences which must be punished to stop these girls behaving this way again and as a deterrent to others.”

“What do you suggest, Melanie?”

“You said they had been spanked and slippered for related offences?”

“Yes, I have just walloped the pair of them.” Replied John.

“I think they should definitely be caned.” Said Melanie. “I suggest six of the best.”

“OK. Thank you Melanie.” Said John.

“Who is going to cane them for you, John?” Asked Melanie.

“I’m not sure. Possibly me, but I don’t have a cane.” Replied John.

“I’m home for half term next weekend and I could thrash the pair of them at the vicarage; say ten-thirty on Saturday morning, if it would help. I’d like to have a little lie-in first as I’m on holiday. I’ve got a suitable cane.”

“Great, Melanie. Thanks for your help. I’ll make sure they are there, and wearing their PE shorts.” Confirmed John.

“No pants on underneath or they get extra.” Melanie sounded slightly amused as she spoke. “I know what tricks girls can get up to avoid or ameliorate a punishment.”

A week later, Ann and Polly found themselves cycling with John to the vicarage for a caning. John had spanked them both following their maths tutorial but they had not been slippered. Polly had asked what sum would be taken from Ann’s account and persuaded John that each stroke of the cane would earn Ann two pounds off her bill.

Melanie, who was in her early twenties, was a former head girl at the local convent school where she was the only prefect allowed to cane naughty girls. She permitted John to kiss her cheek but totally ignored Ann and Polly. She was tall, very thin and had a disagreeable expression on her pale, slightly spotty face. She had long dark greasy hair and a black dress almost down to her feet.

“Do you realise I’ve had to get up early, just to cane you two? You deserve extra for that.” Said Melanie.

“Sorry Miss.”

‘We’ll go up to Daddy’s study.” Announced Melanie, leading the way.

The study was gloomy and rather fusty. In front of the fireplace was a lightweight upright chair with a slender yellow cane resting across its seat.  Gary and Wills were waiting in the study.

‘We’ll start with you first, girl.” Said Melanie grasping Polly’s collar and leading her up to the back of the upright chair. “Bend over the chair and hold the seat tightly in your hands. Count the strokes in a clear voice. If you get up, make too much noise or complain, you’ll get extra.”

The cane was lightweight, very flexible and made a chilling whistle when Melanie lashed it through the air. Polly looked anxiously over her shoulder, conscious of her shorts tightening across her bottom and thighs.

Melanie drew the cane slowly across Polly’s bottom, testing the cane’s flexibility in the process. Polly could feel the cane very clearly and realised how insubstantial her shorts were. Melanie raised and lowered the cane several times and then lashed it down across the middle of Polly’s bottom.

“Owwww!” Gasped Polly. “One, Miss.”

“I think you should show some gratitude towards me. I have got out of my bed specially to cane you.”

“One, thank you, Miss.”

Melanie eyed Polly’s bottom and tapped with her cane before lashing it down again.

“Two, thank you, Miss.” Polly’s voice was a whisper.

Melanie worked her way down Polly’s bottom, skilfully spacing the strokes out evenly. The chair over which Polly was bending creaked as she wriggled trying to alleviate the sting of the cane and wishing she could avoid Melanie’s skillful strokes.

“Please, not so hard, Miss.” She pleaded.

“Keep still, girl. I can’t cane a moving target.” Melanie said crossly.

The sixth stroke landed hard and low down at the junction of Polly’s bottom and thighs.

“Argh! Owww!.” The chair creaked loudly as Polly moved involuntarily as the sting of the cane sank it. “Six, thank you, Miss.”

“Get up, girl.” Ordered Melanie.

Polly got up slowly, her eyes full of tears. Her hands went straight to her bottom and rubbed carefully as she walked on tiptoes.

“Right, I’ll cane you now.” Said Melanie, approaching Ann. She reached for the collar of Ann’s blouse but transferred her grip to a convenient ear.

Ann was conscious of tears already in her eyes. She had watched Polly being caned and Melanie’s complete lack of sympathy. She had never seen anyone caned before. At school, Miss Henderson had caned them in private. John and his friends were going to watch her caning, which would be very embarrassing. Although the caning and Polly’s would reduce her debt to John, it seemed unfair that it was for allegedly being rude to someone else’s prefects. She would try to be brave and obey Melanie’s orders.

“Bend over the chair.” Ordered Melanie, lashing her cane through the air.

Ann could feel the slim cane resting on her bottom as Melanie seemed to be testing its flexibility and the resilience of Ann’s bottom.

With a sudden movement, Melanie lashed the cane full across Ann’s bottom. ‘Thwick!’

“Owwww!” Gasped Ann, her mind overwhelmed by the intense penetrating sting of the cane. She suddenly remembered to count. “Sorry. One thank you Miss.”

The chair creaked as she moved her legs and wriggled her bottom. Melanie caned slowly, ensuring the next stroke was not given until the full sting of the preceding stroke had been experienced.

Ann longed to rub her bottom but managed to hang on to the seat of the chair.  Melanie spaced her strokes carefully, landing the sixth at the junction of Ann’s bottom and thighs.

“Six, thank you, Miss.” She gasped with relief.

‘One for luck, do you think, Melanie?” Asked John.

“Please no.” Pleaded Ann.

“Good idea.” Replied Melanie, lashing the cane in exactly the same place on Ann’s bottom as the sixth. ‘Thwick!’ “Get up girl!”

“Thank you, Miss.” Whispered Ann with a sob as she got to her feet and applied both hands to sooth her caned bottom.

“Thanks, Melanie.” Said John. “Great job.”

“If they ever misbehave again, bring them back and I’ll thrash them for you.”

“I certainly will.” John smiled.

“Let yourselves out. I’m going back to bed.” Said Melanie.

“Come here, you two.” John summoned the girls. “That was a master-class in caning. Melanie’s good, isn’t she?”

“What a woman!” Observed Gary. “I’m glad she caned these naughty girls and not us!”

“Right, you two.” Said John, looking at two very pink tear-stained faces, whose owners still had their hands firmly applied to their bottoms. Ann’s fair hair was tousled and some strands of Polly’s topknot had come loose. “You may go. Report to me next Saturday. Bring your lines, Polly.”

The girls stood on their pedals as they cycled home. Mrs Simpson noticed their tear-stained faces and reluctance to sit down and asked what was the matter.

“We’ve been punished, Mummy.” Admitted Ann tearfully. “A friend of John’s has just caned us.”

“I had better look at your bottom, Ann. Shorts down!”

Ann obeyed carefully and explained to her mother why they were caned.

“Hm, looks like an expert wielded the cane.” Commented Mrs Simpson. “Daddy will be pleased you were punished for being so naughty. He’ll want details when he gets home. You might get a strapping later; it depends what mood he is in. Go up and wash your faces and then come down for lunch.”

“Yes, Mummy.” Said Ann politely.

“I still fancy John and I think he fancies me.” Said Polly. “But he doesn’t half wield a mean slipper. Despite that, I’ll still keep helping you pay off your bill, darling.”

“Thanks a million, Polly. I hope Melanie won’t cane us again.” Said Ann quietly. “She wields a mean cane doesn’t she?”

“I couldn’t agree more, darling.” Replied Polly, carefully massaging her bottom.

The End

© Penny Morton 2014