A girl risks a lot to meet her boyfriend, all in vain.

By Jane Fairweather

“I am going now, as soon as I’ve got some clothes on.” Came Jackie Williams-Jones very quiet Welsh voice through the semi darkness of the four bed dormitory without a prefect that was the relative freedom offered by Holt Hall school to its lower sixth formers. “And I am arranging my bed so it looks as if l am in it. I only hope that Charles has managed to get out.”

“For goodness sake don’t wait about if he is not there. There is no point. You could really be for it if you get caught and we could easily be dragged into it for aiding and abetting you. Anyway the whole thing is very silly,” Louise snapped. “You could get expelled and so could Charles; and even if you don’t you could get the cane. In fact we all could. You really ought not to go.”

“The girl is in love, leave her be.” Came Georgina’s very sonorous voice.

Georgina was the one whose word usually counted, though Louise would have liked it to be her.

Patsy was already asleep and snoring, Louise noticed with irritation.

“Why are you bothering to dress? You could just put a raincoat over your pyjamas. It would be much quicker when you come back and much less risky for you and us.” Louise asked irritably.

“It is cold out there.” Jackie said firmly. “Besides, I don’t want him to get the impression I am easy prey. When I surrender to him I want it to be my choice.”

“You are not seriously thinking of doing that, are you Jackie dear?” Georgina exclaimed. “It is much too risky. I don’t suppose you’ve got French letters or anything, have you? And I don’t suppose he will have the sense to bring something, boys rarely do. For goodness sake, just stick to hard petting.”

“When I do decide to do it, I will be prepared. Don’t worry, Georgie dear, it will be fine.” Jackie answered in a tranquil voice fiddling with buttons on her white blouse in the semi dark.

“I do wish Jackie would not do this.” Louise said very uneasily in a general sort of way. “It could so easily come back on all of us.”

Nevertheless, in a little while Jackie was more or less dressed up to and including her rain coat and beret, though she had left off her stockings because she could not manage the suspenders in the dark and her tie because she could not be bothered to tie it. Despite Louise’s continual mutterings, she slipped out of the door to Georgina’s: “Good luck Jackie,” and Patsy’s snoring.

There was a window with a tree close to it. This was at the other end of the corridor to Miss Jenkins’s, her house mistress’s bedroom and study, and she had always been a good tree climber. She glided along, moving as softly as she could and fiddled with the window catch, wishing she had opened it earlier. The branch that was nearest was not as strong as she would have liked. It half broke and she wondered if the noise was audible, but she managed to get to the trunk of the tree and then it was an easy descent to the grass beneath.

She took her bearings and made her way through the school playing fields, noting the odd shapes on the hockey field that she knew to be the goals. Then out through the small side gate, that she doubted if many people knew existed, and on into the fields towards Thunder Wood, where she and her boyfriend had fixed their rendezvous by letter.

She had spent much of the summer holidays petting with Charles and she had got closer and closer to losing her virginity. Her father, who was anything but prudish, had talked very sensibly to her about it and even given her some condoms. Perhaps precisely because she had not been ordered to behave properly or forbidden to see Charles, she had refrained from going the whole way and Charles, though quite eager, had not pushed her, but she rather wished that she had the sense to bring said condoms to school. She ought to have realized that with Charles at school only two miles away something like this would happen. But Charles saying: “Meet me at 1 am in Thunder Wood on the morning of the 6th,” which had been slipped in to a very innocuous paragraph about rugby, had caught her totally by surprise. It had also totally thrilled her. Up to that point she had always thought Charles was a little lacking in oomph. Tonight she decided she was going to lose her virginity and she was rather glad she had not got any condoms, even if really she ought to have as her sensible side kept reminding her.

She came into the shadows of the trees, aware of vague animal movements and the swaying of the leaves. She glanced at her watch, but could not make out the time. However, she had looked only a few minutes before and knew it must be about five to one. She sat herself down on a fallen tree trunk and waited. She noticed a grassy patch by an oak. They could put her rain coat down there and lie down together and when the moment was right she would slip her knickers off; but not, very definitely not, till she was absolutely ready. It would not be that warm without her raincoat on, she thought unromantically, but still Charles would warm her up soon enough.

She wondered how long they dared to stay out. She ought to be back by three-thirty, which would mean leaving by three. Otherwise there might be enough light for her to be spotted, which would undoubtedly mean her being in hot water. Would they throw her out or cane her? She had been spanked on several occasions for disobedience when she was quite old. Her father knew what he was doing and it had been extremely painful and subduing. Would the dreaded cane be worse? At least you probably kept your knickers on. She remembered the second and worst occasion and her father’s hand descending on the same two small patches of bare skin, one on each buttock for the twentieth or thirtieth time. She had begun to kick wildly and weep at that point; not her proudest moment.

However, gradually time went on and she got colder and colder. Having no stockings on did not help, she decided as she started to walk up and down to keep warm. Had Charles got lost? Worse, had he been caught and was facing a painful interview in the headmaster’s study in the morning? Or had he just chickened out, which would not be unlike Charles at his worst? If he had, she would never forgive him. Then she imagined his small taut bottom in its grey flannels bent right over for the cane. Undoubtedly he was risking that for her and perhaps a lot worse. No, she would wait; there must be some reason for the delay.

Perhaps he had ended up in a different part of the wood, though it was not a large wood and she should have seen or heard something, and this clearing was the obvious place to meet. She started to criss-cross the whole area, but apart from nearly falling over a badger who seemed as startled as she was, nothing happened.

Then quite suddenly it started to pour and she decided there was nothing for it but to creep back and pretend to her mates that she really had spent time with Charles.

It seemed a very long and increasingly wet and muddy walk back to the school. There had been a little light when she came, but with the heavy rain and the cloud everything was dark now and she kept putting her feet in the puddles, and on several occasions into what she was fairly sure were cow pats.

‘What a disgusting waste of time!’ She thought; she was going to write to her boyfriend in the morning and tell him in no uncertain terms that he had let her down badly and it was very definitely over.

Possibly because she was so pre-occupied, she did not think before starting to climb up the tree to the window and forgot the half broken branch. This time it came away from the tree and she fell quite hard. She did not break anything, though she bruised herself. Suddenly she felt furious with Charles, the rain and life itself and she started to scream and swear, thinking even as she did it that she would be lucky not to be caught, but she did not greatly care and she had to express this anger.

Then she stopped swearing and started to address the problem of how to get back in. She was just beginning to think that perhaps she had figured out another way up the tree and there was the noise of the window creaking fully open and Miss Jenkins was there in her nightdress asking whatever was going on. Jackie almost ran away, but there did not seem much point, so she just called out that she had been out for a walk and would her housemistress be kind enough to open the door for her.

Miss Jenkins obliged, rather obviously trying not to laugh and ushered her in to her study.

“I presume you would like cocoa?” The house mistress said dryly.

“Yes please Miss, one sugar please.” Her errant pupil replied.

“On second thoughts, I think you are going to need a towel and you had better get your outer clothes off before you catch pneumonia. Cocoa can wait,” Miss Jenkins continued, vanishing into her bed room and returning with the towel.

Jackie gratefully took it and rubbed her brown hair before peeling off her soaked rain coat, white blouse and blue pleated skirt. She then realized that her petticoat was also rather wet and removed it, though doing that made her feel decidedly naked. And the rest of her, she decided, was still quite damp. She noticed there was an electric fire and switched it on. She rotated herself in front of it in her knickers, vest and bra, dabbing the remaining wet rather ineffectively with the now very damp towel.

Miss Jenkins returned with the steaming cocoa and a dressing gown, still in her ankle-length pink night dress. She handed Jackie the dressing gown, who put it on and sat down rather uncertainly in a rather low arm chair before taking the cocoa. Miss Jenkins sat down in the other arm chair and gazed at her thoughtfully. Jackie noticed her housemistress still had her bra on and this somehow made her breasts feel more visible through her nightdress than they would otherwise have been and she wondered if her own bra was as obvious through her vest, which made her feel hideously embarrassed.

She finished the cocoa and for want of anywhere else put the mug down on the floor.

“You know, Jackie,” said Miss Jenkins, “When I was at Cambridge, which is not that many years ago, we all did the sort of thing you have been up to tonight. Climbing in after curfew was very common. I got to be very good at it. A couple of my friends were caught and ended up being lectured by the Principal but, by and large, there were very few consequences. Usually a man was involved you know, or a party that went on too late. I suspect on this occasion it was a man, am I right about that Miss Jones-Williams?”

“Williams-Jones, please Miss!” Jackie protested, genuinely annoyed at the mistake with her name.

“Quite so, Miss Williams-Jones, but was a man involved? I am, you know, responsible for your moral welfare.”

“I’d rather not say, Miss.”

“Well fair enough and perhaps I would rather not know, but I had to ask. Now the problem is this. If you were at Cambridge and I were your tutor I would just smile politely and pass on. However, you are not at Cambridge and this is a girl’s school with very strict rules. According to the regulations I ought to send you to the Head in the morning, who would almost certainly expel you. I am very reluctant to do that, remembering as I say some of my own not that distant misdeeds.

“Now as your housemistress I have the power to administer up to four strokes of the cane without reference to the head, but I have to put a reason in the punishment book and the number of reasons I am allowed to use are quite small. I imagine you smoked a few cigarettes while you were out there to keep warm, did you Miss Williams-Jones?”

Jackie started to say: “No, I most certainly didn’t; I hate smoking.” Then she suddenly realized that Miss Jenkins was trying to help her and started to stutter something like: “Yes,” though the word got lost somewhere because she hated lying even if it saved her from being expelled.

“I am glad to hear you admit your offence so clearly and honestly.” Miss Jenkins stated with a straight face. “I never believe in girls waiting for punishments, so although it is three o’clock in the morning I am going to do it now. Apart from anything else, Jackie, if you can button your lip, there is a fair chance that no one will realize what has happened. Most girls sleep soundly at this time of night.”

“Thank you! I will do my best, Miss,” Jackie replied, grimacing and shivering, not entirely with the cold and damp she had endured.

“Take off your dressing gown and bend over the side of the armchair you are sitting on.”

Jackie refrained from saying it was not her dressing gown and did as she was told. There was a distinct pause while Jackie felt her whole body tense. She felt panic at the coming pain but also fear in case she could not stop herself making a noise and she ended up in the Head’s study after all. This was not helped by Miss Jenkins who was carefully and systematically practicing her stroke, and the swishing of the cane was most un-nerving. And the tightness of her knickers worried her. She must be showing an awful lot, quite apart from which they were not going to give the soft flesh of her bottom much protection. She bit her lip; somehow she was going to have to cope.

“Right, Miss Jones-Williams, sorry I mean Williams-Jones, are you ready?”

“As ready as I will ever be, Miss. Thank you Miss for dealing with it like this.”

The cane stung the bare top of her thighs twice in rapid succession. She managed to bite her lip, but there were quite a few tears. Then a distinct pause and the third stroke swished unmercifully into her lower bottom very hard indeed, seeming to go through her skin-tight and faintly damp green school knickers as if they were not there. She nearly yelled, but somehow bit it back and just said a very heart felt: “Aaaah!” There was then an uncomfortable pause before the hardest stroke yet scythed into the crease between thighs and bottom. She put her head back and almost bellowed, but somehow stopped herself. She stood there clenching her buttocks and lifting her legs up and down with the tears pouring down her cheeks.

“I think I had better rub some cream in for you before you swell too much.” Miss Jenkins observed in a practical voice.

“That would be very kind, Miss,” Jackie found herself saying through her tears, then rather wished she had not agreed as she felt her knickers being peeled down. There was something very off-putting about Miss Jenkins seeing her very moist private parts and her very swollen welts. However, the effect of the cream was very soothing and a great relief.

“Thank you, Miss, I think I can go back to my dorm now.” She stated with more apparent confidence than she felt.

“Yes, if you feel up to it. Do try and pretend this did not happen. The Head would not be pleased with either of us if this came out.”

“Yes, Miss, of course, Miss.”

She staggered to her dorm and managed to get into bed, apparently without waking anyone. She was in such agony that she did not bother with her pyjamas but went to bed in knickers, vest and bra. Not perhaps surprisingly, she slept on her stomach when she slept at all.

*          *          *

She woke in mild horror at what had happened. She found herself reliving the agony of the caning and the sheer shock that Charles had betrayed her. It would never have happened if Charles had not written her that stupid note. The other girls were stirring. She got out of bed and started to look for a clean pair of knickers, bending over as she reached down to the drawer.

“So you did get it.” Said Patsy, glancing rather obviously at the top of Jackie’s thighs.

“And how!” Said Georgina, joining in the looking.

“How horrible!” Said Louise with a shudder. “Still it should teach you to go out of bounds at night.”

“They would not believe me when I woke everyone up and said you were getting it. I could hear the swishes.” Patsy observed rather excitedly.

“Patsy, don’t show off.” Said Georgina. “I am sure Jackie does not want to talk about it; I know I wouldn’t. We all thought you would prefer it if we took no notice and let you go to sleep, Jackie. In fact I insisted on it.”

“That was really kind.” Jackie replied and meant it.

“How did you get caught?” Louise broke in, with obvious fascination on her face.

Jackie decided that if she and Miss Jenkins were going to get away with this, then she would have to lie on the grand scale and said with a very straight face, “It was a bit silly really. I got back in alright; and Charles had got me smoking to warm us up in the wood. He had given me a couple more ciggies and a few matches, and I went into the washroom to dry off. Miss Jenkins came along and caught me red-handed smoking and she was absolutely livid. And that was it; summary execution at three in the morning. Almost like being shot at dawn, except it wasn’t dawn. God it hurt! But at least she did not send me to Miss Maxwell-Davies. Think what that might have meant! I am really grateful for that.”

“I am amazed you did not yell your head off.” Georgina remarked thoughtfully. “And why did she say nothing about you being in your day clothes?”

“I think she chose not to notice. She would have had to send me to the Head, wouldn’t she?”

“That was very sensible of Miss Jenkins, it really was.” Georgina observed.

“Does it really hurt?” Patsy demanded.

“Yes, it bloody well does and I am still tender. You try it sometime, Patsy.”

“Come on girls. Better forget it.” Georgina broke in with real vehemence. Come on we have all got prep to do.”

Jackie began the delicate task of changing her knickers, wondering as she did it if her boyfriend was as sore as she was, or had betrayed her as totally as she had been convinced that he must have done when she was undergoing the rain and the dark and the cane.

The rather weary answer came in the post that morning. Poor Charles had gone down with a vicious case of mumps and was in the infirmary. Even though the letter was dated two days before, she knew that she would never believe Charles had mumps and even if he produced a medical certificate she would think it was forged, so she wrote a letter saying she wished to end the relationship without giving any reason. She never saw Charles again and never found out if he was lying about the mumps or not.

The End

© Jane Fairweather 2017

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