Caroline ‘Caro’ Mossley: Part 2

The story continues

By Steve Williams

Caro woke up on the Tuesday morning having slept a solid nine hours. She got out of bed and took a leisurely shower. She heard her phone go, but decided that whoever it was could leave a message. She looked in the full length bathroom mirror and saw that her bottom was still pink, though the vivid soreness of last night had disappeared. She dried off, patting her bottom carefully, and put on her robe.

The answer phone light was flashing, and when she listened to it there was a message from Peter thanking her for a lovely evening and asking what she was doing today. She resolved to call him immediately after breakfast. Then she remembered that there was another message late last night from Sister Sophia asking Caro to call her. Then she also remembered her friend Jenny, the captain of the Old Girl’s Hockey Club second eleven, who said she had been to Sister Sophia last night to explain why the team had the worst disciplinary record in the area, and with no excuses was punished by a severe caning.

Sister Sophia told Jenny that Caro had been the most reported player in the league. This brought further disgrace to St Cuthberta’s. Jenny also warned Caro about what to wear. Jenny’s jeans had been called inappropriate for her visit to Sister Sophia and she was told to report next week to be disciplined for that.

This will sound outrageous to many, but it is a condition of membership to St Cuthberta’s Old Girls Sports Club. All members agree to subscribe to the rules and regulations of the school itself, except smoking and drinking in moderation are allowed.

She made some breakfast and then sat down in her lounge and phoned Peter. He was delighted to hear from her.

“Are you sitting comfortably?” He joked.

“Yes thank you and before you ask, yes, I slept very well once I stopped crying. I slept on my tummy, but I must try it again. I had a brilliant sleep.”

“What do you want to try again Caro? Bending over the end of your bed and me spanking you with your trainer?”

“Ha! Bloody Ha!” She said. “Anyway, how are you today? Any regrets?”

“Nope! None! I went up to the loft last night and retrieved my two canes. They were a bit dusty, but I cleaned them up and wiped them with linseed oil before I went to bed. This morning they were just right. By the way I have to go to Southampton for a twelve o’clock meeting. It will take no more than an hour. I just have to fire someone actually! I wondered if you would like to come with me. Perhaps you could have a wander round the shops, and then we could have lunch?”

“I’d like that Peter. Will you pick me up?”

“Yes Caro! Eleven o’clock OK?”

“Sure! I will be ready and waiting downstairs.”

“OK! See you at eleven. Bye.”

“Bye Peter.”

Caro made herself some breakfast and thought about calling Sister Sophia. She kept putting it off until she could wait no longer.

“Hello! Could I speak to Sister Sophia please?” Said Caro to the school switchboard.

“Who shall I say is calling?” Said the operator.

“Caroline Mossley,” she said. Best keep it formal, she thought.

“Ah Caroline. You got my message, I see.”

“Yes Sister. How can I help you?”

“Can you hang on for just two minutes please? I have a young lady bent over my desk with two strokes still to come. The sounds will be familiar to you I am sure.”

“I can hold Sister,” said Caro.

Sister Sophia must have put her phone on speaker phone, for Caro clearly heard the sound of a cane swishing through the air followed by the splat of the cane on some poor girl’s bottom. Then the howl of agony from the recipient. This was torture for Caro; a slippering from the team captain, a spanking from Peter, OK. But the cane?

Then she heard the last stroke whistle through the air and splat across the victim’s bottom, and another a howl of agony.

“Get yourself decent girl and get out of here before I start over again. Go.”

“Now Caroline, where were we?” Said Sister Sophia in her mildest tone.

“I returned your call Sister,” said Caro.

“Ah! Yes. Hockey. Old Girls’ second team. Right?”

“Yes Sister. You interviewed our captain last night.”

“Well I wouldn’t call it an interview. I gave her a sound caning. I haven’t heard anyone yell quite that loud for ages. Now for you! The most reported player in the league for the season! Anything to say? Any reason you shouldn’t visit me for the same treatment?”

“No Miss,” said Caro. “When had you in mind?”

“Your friend Jenny is coming back next Monday evening at eight o’clock. How about you come at eight thirty?”

“OK Miss!” Said Caro.

“You can remember the punishment rules, I take it, or do you want me to email them to you?”

“I think I am OK miss, but it wouldn’t do any harm if I had a copy to revise,” said a nervous Caro.

“Be a shame to get extras through ignorance of the rules.”

“What? As opposed to earned? Do you have my email address?” Said Caro with a laugh.

“Yes, it’s on the system. Glad you still have a sense of humour, young lady. You will need it. See you on Monday at eight thirty. Goodbye for now.”

“Bye Miss.”

Caro had almost a week to think about what she was going to get. When she thought about it, being an individual sinner was probably worse than being the captain of a team. So if Jenny got ten strokes, Caro thought it quite possible she would get more. That meant a dozen. That was the maximum that was given .

She thought it would be wise to be on time for Peter since he seemed to have taken a liking to her bottom, so she got dressed. Something smart but casual she thought. So a loose skirt and a silk blouse. No stockings or tights, just a pair of tiny socks and her trainers that Peter used for another purpose last night. She took her Gucci handbag and made sure she had her credit cards. She wanted to buy lunch today. Make a statement of Independence.

She was downstairs in the foyer of her flats promptly at eleven, only to find Peter chatting with the block porter.

“Hello Caro! How are you?” He said.

“Fine thanks,” she said and, as they went out the door, she muttered: “No thanks to you.”

“I heard that!” He said and, looking down at her feet, he continued: “Could find another use for one of those trainers you know.”

“I do know! But I haven’t been a naughty girl have I?” She said.

“Maybe not!”

As they pulled away Caro said to Peter: “There was message on my answer phone last night.”

“Oh! Who from? Not Mandy?” He said referring to the waitress at the restaurant last night.

“No! From Sister Sophia at St Cuthberta’s. It is to do with what Jenny had to see her about, and you know what happened to her.”

“Do you have to go through with it Caro?” He asked with concern in his voice.

“Yes if I want to stay in the hockey club and stay friends with all the girls. Present company excepted, that is my entire circle of friends.”

“I can’t believe it’s legal,” said Peter.

“Even if it wasn’t, what could I do? If the law got involved the whole sports club would fold. It is heavily subsidised by the school.”

“So what have you agreed, if anything?” Asked Peter.

“Jenny is going for her repeat visit, for turning up in jeans last night, at eight next Monday. Sister Sophia suggested I went at eight thirty. I agreed.”

“What will you get?” Asked Peter with some enthusiasm.

“Probably a dozen with the senior cane. Maybe a spanking before.”

“Oh you poor thing,” said Peter with genuine concern.

“Peter! Could I ask a massive favour of you?”

“Yes of course Caro.”

“Would you drive me to the school and wait for me, and bring me home please?”

“Sure I would, Love. But would you not rather be on your own?”

“There isn’t anybody else I would ask, Peter.”

“Done. I will gladly look after you. I will get some cold cream and I can rub it into your bottom when we get home.”

“Don’t bother Peter. I have a big jar at home. Needed it in the hockey season.”

“Tell me more about your experiences then,” asked Peter.

“OK! There is lots to know. The worst punishment in the school is a public thrashing. This is only ever done as a last resort. I saw it three times only and one of those involved two of my classmates in our last year at school.”

“Would that make the girls 18?” Queried Peter.

“One was 18 and the other 19,” said Caro.

“What had they done?” He asked.

“They were a right pair. Both from really good homes and plenty of money but they decided to supplement their income by running a protection racket in the school. Mostly very young girls who, if they didn’t pay up, would find terrible things happening to them, like homework going missing resulting in a taste of the slipper. Then it would happen again and they would end up in Sister Joseph’s room for a caning. Tough when you are just eleven. I know that for sure.”

“How did they get caught? And how long had they got away with it?” Peter asked.

“They had been doing it for about three years and got caught because one of the youngsters they tried it on with had a senior police officer for a father, and she knew what would happen, so she managed to sneak a phone call to her dad. He contacted Sister Joseph and they set a trap. Sister Joseph was fuming. The girl’s dad initially wanted to prosecute but Sister Joseph explained that those girls, with all their money, would launch a strong defence and drag his daughter’s name through the mud even though she had done nothing wrong. So he agreed that if the two culprits were publicly thrashed he would not take it further.”

“Did you know what was going on, Caro?” Asked Peter.

“No. Not me nor anyone else in my form. We knew they had loads of money because they flaunted it, but we also knew they came from a wealthy background.”

“So how was the punishment administered?”

“It was announced at assembly that two girls would be beaten in front of the assembled school at four o’clock, the end of the school day. We were all chattering about who it was. In fact I was talking so much I was told to report to Sister Joseph immediately after assembly.”

“What happened to you then?”

“I went straight from assembly to Sister Joseph’s study and joined a queue of four other girls, all sent for the same reason. I was the oldest and therefore was going to get the hardest whacking.

“The first girl went in. She was a fifth year, just a year younger than me. She is in my hockey team as it happens. Theresa is her name. We, in the queue, could hear each stroke being delivered and Theresa’s yells. She really yelled out loud. I counted six strokes so knew that was the minimum I was going to get. I trembled at the thought. The younger girls looked at me with pity in their eyes.

“Theresa came out with tears streaming down her face and her hands clutching her bottom. Not a good sign. The next one in was about thirteen years old and she only got four strokes but still came out looking dishevelled with tears on her face and hands cuddling her bottom cheeks. The other two were dealt with in a similar way and both came out in tears and walking stiffly.

“Then the moment had come and I was called in. Sister Joseph looked me up and down like I was a piece of dirt. She gave me a tongue lashing and then came the sentence. Six of the best, senior cane, bare bottom, touching my toes. Just about as bad as could be apart from only being six strokes. I was thankful for that, I can tell you Peter.”

“It still sounds extremely painful Caro.”

“Peter! It was horrific. I had to take my panties off. Being in the upper sixth we did not have to wear the Navy Blue knickers that the rest of the school wore. I was wearing a tiny pair of briefs, white. They would have offered no protection at all but off they had to come.

“My skirt was pinned up to my shoulders and Sister Joseph put the other cane away and took out what I knew to be the Senior Cane. A real brute. It had little ridges round it every six inches or so.

“Then she told me to touch my toes and reminded me of the punishment rules. All this was dragging it out, increasing my suffering. Then she got down to business. Each stroke was preceded by two taps of the cane as she sighted on the part of my bottom that she was going to thrash. And thrash she did. I cried out loud at each stroke, but managed to stay in position. Tears were flowing after three strokes, and the last two were put on the diagonal. That was the hardest caning I got until I had left. Sister Joseph was fuming with the two girls and that rubbed off on me when she beat me. I left her study in tears and had to go straight to my next lesson that was Maths. I got threatened with the slipper for being late, but when the mistress saw my bottom she let me off.”

“You poor girl,” said Peter in a very sympathetic tone of voice.

“It was awful Peter. I couldn’t sit without pain and some girls in the class made matters worse taking the piss. The two girls who caused this were really affected by the sight of me, who had a reputation for being quite a toughie, in such agony.”

“She really used you as an example I think,” he said.

“At lunchtime one of my best friends took me to her dorm and liberally applied cold cream to my bottom. That made things a lot better. The day passed quietly until the last lesson when the Head Girl came to our class and took the two culprits out. At the end of the lesson we all reported to the school hall. I, for one, made sure not a sound passed my lips. Two girls in my class did get caught talking on the way to the hall and were told to report to Sister Joseph at five o’clock. They were stupid having seen up close what happened to me. I didn’t see anyone else in trouble and we all settled quietly.

“Sister Joseph and her deputy Sister Sophia came to the front of the stage. In Sister Joseph’s hand was a long, thick cane. She stood there flexing the cane showing that despite its thickness it was still a very supple rod. All the other staff, including the cook and Matron, were on the stage.

“Sister Joseph explained to the school why this special assembly had been called and then the Head Girl escorted Anita and Dianne on to the stage. They stood facing Sister Joseph with their heads bowed. She read out their offence and told them and the school how close they had come to prosecution in which case they would have been sent to a Young Offender prison and their futures would have been ruined as well as the damage that would have been done to their family reputations.

“They were told to face the front so all the school could see their shame. Sister Sophia was watching the school assembly with a hawk’s eye. I saw a prefect go and speak to two girls who I think were 14 or 15 year-olds. Then after about five minutes of silence Sister Joseph nodded at Sister Sophia. She approached Anita and took her to one side where she stood with her hands on her head. facing the school. Dianne was made to turn round with her back to the school. When told she reached under her skirt and tugged down her knickers. They fluttered down to her ankles.

Sister Sophia approached and pinned up her skirt so it would stay out of the way. Then Sister Joseph swished the cane through the air and announced: “Twelve strokes.” The school gasped almost as one. “Remember the rules. Sister Sophia would you please count them out loud.”

“Certainly,” said Sister Sophia.

“I can vividly remember the first couple of strokes. I twitched on my seat as Sister Joseph measured the cane across Dianne’s bottom. She was quite well endowed in that department, Peter, whereas Anita was much slimmer. Anyway I watched, as did the rest of the school, enthralled as the cane was drawn back over Sister Joseph’s shoulder and she went on to her toes and lashed the cane with all the force she could muster. The swish alone terrified us all and especially the younger girls who were at the front of the hall but the impact of cane on human flesh was truly awful. There was no response for a few seconds and then the realisation must have sunk in and Dianne shrieked out loud and started to rise. Her back arched with the agony of that stroke. Fortunately she came to her senses pretty quick and promptly reached for her toes. This tightened up her bottom cheeks and there in the middle stretching across both cheeks was a vivid red weal that started to turn darker and darker as we watched. I heard a cry from somebody down the front and a prefect beckoned to a young first former and she was made to stand at one side of the hall with the prefect concerned. I felt really sorry for her without knowing what would happen.”

“What did you think would happen Caro?” Asked Peter as they entered the M27 just 12 miles from Southampton.

“I knew she would be punished and perhaps due to her age, she might get off with a spanking, but I also knew she might get slippered or even caned. I knew if it was me I would have been caned.”

“Wow! It was a very strict school, wasn’t it Caro?”

“It sounds worse than it really was Peter because I am just telling you about the disciplinary side. I could also tell you about the good times. School trips to London, Paris, Rome. The general fun we had. It was, and is, a big school. Eight hundred girls, so discipline is essential, else there’d be a riot.”

“I understand Caro,” said Peter. “Do you think they should re-introduce corporal punishment in schools in general?”

“Yes I do Peter, also in the case of juvenile offenders. Both sexes. A bit more controversial I suppose.”

“It certainly is but I would love to see a referendum on the issue.”

“It would be a certain ‘yes’ vote Peter. That’s why it won’t happen. The Government would not want to have to implement this.”

“Maybe, but maybe you misjudge some politicians,” said Peter. “Carry on with your story. We will be in Southampton in ten minutes.”

“OK! Well I watched, totally bemused, as Sister Joseph applied the second stroke. A replica of the first and very close to where the first had landed. Poor Dianne. She screeched but somehow stayed down. Sister Sophia counted out loud: ‘two strokes’. I couldn’t watch the rest. I was scared I would shout out in sympathy and I really did not want a visit to Sister Joseph or Sister Sophia. Anyway you could not shut it right out with swish, thwack, yell of pain and Sister Sophia counting. I did look up for the last one. The sight of Dianne’s bottom was to be seen. Indescribable. I watched with awe as Sister Joseph showed no mercy and sizzled in the last stroke that was just about on the buttocks. So close to her thighs. The loudest scream yet emanated from poor Dianne.”

“Why, Caro, do you keep calling her ‘poor’? Surely she was lucky not to be in court.”

“It would be a very hard person not to show some sympathy especially if they had received similar,” said Caro. “Anyway Dianne was told to stand up straight, put her hands on her head, when I know they were desperate to go to her bottom, and turn her back to the school so everyone could see the damage done. Sister Sophia used her cane to point out to the school each of the dozen stripes that clearly stood out on Dianne’s bottom. Oh! Look Peter! Is that the new Cruise ship they have all been on about?” As Caro changed subject.

“Yep! Lovely isn’t it?” He replied.

“I wonder what it is like inside?”

“I saw the plans and also some publicity photographs and it is fantastic. Takes cruising to a new level. Have you ever been on a cruise Caro?” Asked Peter.

“No Peter. I’d always thought of a cruise as an old person’s holiday but some of the publicity makes me wonder.”

“Yes it certainly used to be an older person’s holiday but things have changed. Not so stuffy now.”

“Silly question, but have you been on a cruise?”

“Yes. First time about twenty years ago. It wasn’t really a cruise but we went from Southampton to New York. I had business in New York so we decided to make a holiday of it as well. We flew back on Concorde. Then, when Marion was diagnosed with cancer and we knew there was not a lot of time left, we had a winter cruise in the Caribbean. That one was on Royal Caribbean who own that monster. That’s how I got a look at the publicity stuff, as an existing customer. We are just coming to West Quay. I will park in the multi story and walk to my meeting. It’s just five minutes away. Why don’t you have a shop and I will meet you at, say, Marks and Spencer’s front door at one o’clock?”

“OK Peter. I can always find time to shop. See you at one.” As she reached up and gave him a kiss.

Peter was thrilled to bits. He walked of with a jaunt in his step.

One o’clock soon came round and Caro rushed to the front door, desperate not to be late. Peter definitely would love an excuse to get her over his knee or his desk. She just made it on time. Peter was already there and looking at his watch. Caro ran the last few yards and threw her arms round his neck.

“Made it,” she gasped.

“Just,” said Peter sounding a little disappointed. “I have been here fifteen minutes and was looking to take my frustration out on your bottom.”

“What frustration?” Caro asked.

“The bugger had resigned first thing this morning and nobody bothered to contact me. What is more frustrating is that since yesterday I have had my interest in spanking reawakened by a certain person and my secretary, who I share with the Financial Director, would be a candidate for a really good spanking.” Peter said as he discreetly patted Caro’s bottom.

“I will not be substitute for anyone Peter,” said a concerned Caro.

“Oh Caro! I didn’t mean that at all. Anyway I am sure you will do plenty to earn a sore bottom won’t you?”

“I might,” said Caro with a coy expression on her face. “Shall we go to the M&S cafe Peter?”

“If you like Caro,” he replied.

They went hand in hand to the escalator and rode up to the third floor where the M&S Cafe was. It was also the floor where M&S Personal Services were.

“Do you mind Peter if we just go over to the Personal Services desk. I want to upgrade my account.”

“No problem!” said Peter, and looking at the three bags she was carrying asked: “Did you overspend?”

“No but there is a deal where if you move to the Platinum Account you get a further ten percent and it would apply to what I bought today.”

“Oh I see! Did you spend much, and what did you buy?” Asked Peter.

“Quite a lot, Peter, but I am not telling you what right now,” she replied.

She updated her card, handed over the receipts and had the discount applied there and then. All the time Peter was trying to peep into her bags.

They went to the Cafe and queued up for a snacky type of lunch. They were given a wooden spoon and a number on it. Peter went and ordered a bottle of white wine and put it on the tab. Caro had said that when ordering like this with her Platinum Card they just ran up a tab automatically. Peter found a table for two.

Caro came to join him and exclaimed: “Linda, Hi!”

The lady on the adjoining table looked up and said: “Wow Caro! Fancy seeing you here. A bit far from home aren’t we?” And looked inquisitively at the immaculately turned out Peter.

“This is my friend, Peter, and Linda is a hockey player at our club, plays for the thirds mostly,” said Caro as an explanation to both Peter and Linda.

“I just came for the ride. Peter had business to attend to. How’s things?”

“Oh Caro! Did you know Jenny Turner had to see Sister Sophia?”

“Yes Linda. Saw her last night in Poole. Before and After. You know why?”

“I do indeed. I have to go tomorrow. Worst player over the season,” said Linda.

“Oh! Poor you! Be warned Jenny has to go back next week for wearing inappropriate dress for her punishment; Jeans!” Said Caro as Peter looked astonished.

“Don’t look so surprised Peter. St Cuthberta’s is a huge school and there a loads of former pupils around. Lots of hockey players over the years and even more tennis players, wouldn’t you say Linda?”

“Yes Caro, Peter. Big rowing squad as well. I think the Old Girls have five rowing eights and numerous scullers.”

“Where do they row Linda?” Asked Peter.

“Mostly on the Thames, Peter. They have a big clubhouse at Marlow on an island there. The School owns the island.”

“Goodness me! I am an investment Fund manager and I never realised how wealthy the school must be. I live quite near so should have known I think,” said Peter.

“If you are a member of the Old Girls club, any sport, you can hire a boat. They have punts and rowboats there and on the other side of the island they have some dinghies, though most of the club sailing is done from Poole. They have a boathouse at Hamworthy.” Said Linda.

“How is your family, Linda?” Asked Caro.

“I’m divorced now Caro. Just last year. He found someone younger so good riddance. My son is living with him, going to work for his business I expect and my daughter has just gone to Harvard to study Ophthalmic Medicine.”

“My goodness! Where did she get her brains from Linda?” Said a chuckling Caro.

“Cheeky cow! I got four A Levels you know. I could have done well if I hadn’t fallen in love and got married.”

“Linda was in the year ahead of me but we both played for the Hockey first eleven for her last year,” explained Caro to Peter.

“Look Caro I have to be off. I have a hair appointment and I had better make sure I look OK for Sister Sophia. I do not want a second trip. Look! Here is my business card. Stay in touch! Things are much easier now Martin has gone.”

Caro passed over her own business card, and promised to ring to see how she was after her trip to school. Caro was careful not to mention her impending visit.

After lunch Peter and Caro spent an hour window shopping. They looked in the window of FootLocker and Caro was studying the hockey boots while Peter’s eye drifted to a pair of plimsolls. Probably size 12. Caro realised what he was looking at and blushed furiously, as she took his arm and led him reluctantly away.

“Only looking, Caro,” said Peter with an air of innocence that didn’t fool Caro for one minute.

They returned to Peter’s car and, when settled in and belted up, Peter looked at Caro and said: “What was Linda’s surname?”

“It was Devine at school but let’s see,” she said as she looked in her handbag at the card she’d been given. “Married name is Walker. Why?”

“I think I might know of her husband,” said Peter.

“Good, bad, indifferent?” She asked.

“If it is the same Martin Walker, bad, very bad,” he said. “I will have a look at my records when I get back.”

They were soon on the motorway heading home.

“Now continue your story Caro. Anita!”

“Yes Anita! Well like I said she was much slimmer than Diane with a much smaller, almost boyish, bottom. Very long legs. When she was told to bend over the desk and grip the other side I wondered how so small a bottom could fit twelve strokes without overlap, and that is excruciating. However, I did Sister Joseph a disservice. Sister Joseph delivered the first stroke and the impact was immediate. Anita shot up with both hands gripping her bottom and hopping from foot to foot. Sister Joseph was fuming, her face like thunder. Dianne looked aghast across at her friend. That got her a resounding couple of slaps from Sister Sophia.

“It was no surprise that when she had recovered some composure Sister Joseph announced that the stroke did not count. This brought a number of ‘oos’ and ‘ahs’ from the girls quite understandably. Sister Sophia called for order telling the assembled girls to ‘settle down or else’ and we all knew what the ‘or else’ meant.

“Anita was sobbing heavily as Sister Sophia pushed her, none too gently, back across the desk. Sister Joseph delivered the next stroke. It was just as hard and immediately adjacent to the first and Anita screeched like a banshee. I could not watch anymore so looked down at my feet and closed my eyes. I heard the strokes and the impact and the yells and howls from Anita. I remember thinking ‘she isn’t taking this very well. The Sisters will be fuming.’ At that age you were expected to take a thrashing with some fortitude. When Sister Sophia counted thirteen I thought that was it and looked up. I had missed the fact that Anita’s hands had gone to her bottom so invalidating stroke seven.

“So I was taken aback when a further stroke was delivered very low down on Anita’s bottom and just shouted ‘NO’ as it happened. It was really just a reflex action and I looked down again hoping no one had noticed.”

“Had they?” Peter interrupted.

“I didn’t think so, but as Dianne and Anita were stood on the stage and the school had to march past as an example I thought I was clear. However, Sister Sophia whispered in my ear: “My Office before tea,” and I knew I had been heard. The other girls who had made outcries were being escorted by the Head Girl in the direction of the Head’s study. I pitied them and was relieved that I was only seeing Sister Sophia. ‘Only’ I say, but that was going to be painful I felt.”

“It seems very severe just for a reflex action that anyone could have made. So what happened?” Peter asked as he turned off the A31 onto the Spur Road to Bournemouth.

“I decided to get it over with as soon as possible, Peter, so went straight to her study and knocked and waited. I didn’t have long to wait. She came round the corner and said: ‘Go straight in.’

“Her tone was quite calm really and almost friendly. She told me she had seen me looking down and sympathised, but I should remember what Anita had done. I decided to apologise straight off and explain about it being a reflex action. She asked me to recount my most recent punishments by her or Sister Joseph. I told her I had got six of the best that morning for talking in assembly, but before that it had been three months since Sister Joseph gave me another six of the best for poor Maths homework.”

“Did you deserve it?” Asked Peter.

“Oh yes! I had been slacking and I knew it. Just a phase I was going through. Touching my toes for six fierce strokes of the senior cane on my bare bottom snapped me out of it. So you see it does work, at least for me.”

“Yes I can see that, and I bet for many others.”

“Yep! Linda got caned a few times mostly for schoolwork issues rather than disobedience and she ended up with four A Levels.”

“So what happened in Sister Sophia’s study?” Asked a more and more inquisitive Peter.

“You really like the idea of me getting whacked don’t you?” She asked with a giggle and a smile. “Anyway she said that I could have a sound spanking or three with the cane. I picked the cane as it would be over quicker and a spanking from her was probably just as painful and you’d have marks on your legs for all to see if you were not exceptionally careful. You want the details I take it?”

“Of course. I need to know more so that when you step out of line I will know what you can take.”

“Oooh! So you will deal with me when I, as you put it, step out of line eh?”

“Oh yes Caro. I think that is a very good idea don’t you?” He asked hopefully. Things had progressed very quickly in the last twenty four fateful hours.

Just as Caro was about to continue her telephone rang.

“Must get this,” said Caro apologetically.

“Hello! Caroline Mossley?”

It was her boss in London. She had to go urgently to St Andrews in Scotland. She needed to be there for a presentation on Thursday evening taking his place and making a speech of thanks, and giving out the prizes. It was some Golf Pro-Am that her boss had handled by himself. Probably just to get in with the golfing set, she thought rather uncharitably. He was meant to be there but his wife had been rushed to hospital so Caro sympathised and asked what arrangements had been made.

She was told that a flight from Southampton to Edinburgh had been booked for seven thirty Thursday morning, returning Friday afternoon and a room booked for Thursday night in the St Andrews Hotel. She was told how lucky she was. The Charity had transferred the Chairman’s booking straight into her name so she had a suite. She was told a car was reserved for her with Avis at the airport. He said how glad he was that he had such a very capable lady who could deputise for him.

Caro thought: ‘Yep! Flattery gets you everywhere.’

Details had been emailed to her that afternoon.

Peter asked what that was all about as he pulled off the spur road and headed for Westbourne and Caro’s apartment.

Caro said: “I have to go to Scotland first thing Thursday morning, make a presentation on Thursday night and come back Friday afternoon. You could come if you want. I have a suite at the hotel.”

Peter looked at his calendar on his phone and said: “I would love to Caro. Thanks for asking. It means so much to me that you would offer that. Let us see what the flight details are and I will try to get a seat on the same flight. Should be OK on a Thursday morning. Friday coming back might be trickier.”

“If it is, we could always change the flight to a later one.” Said Caro with a smile on her face.

They pulled up into the car park of Caro’s block of flats. Caro got out, retrieved the shopping bags and keyed in the code to open the doors. The porter saw her coming and opened the second set of doors for her as Peter followed. He said something to the porter who nodded. Caro saw a note change hands and wondered what that was all about. Peter pushed the lift button and waved Caro in. They got out on the Penthouse floor and Caro opened her door, went in, threw her bags into her bedroom and on entering the lounge stopped in her tracks and gasped, putting her hands to her mouth. There on the coffee table, in a beautiful cut glass vase, was a glorious bunch of flowers. She realised that this was what Peter and the porter were conspiring about.

She turned and there was a beaming Peter. She stood with her hands on her hips and said: “Come here Peter Phillips.”

He approached her still smiling broadly as she took her hands from her hips and put them round her neck, pulling him to her and giving a tremendous kiss and hug.

“Oh Peter,” she said as she came up for air. “I am so, so delighted we met. My sore bottom seems so worthwhile. Thank you!”

“You have lightened my heart Caro. I had just been drifting along until I saw you on the beach. It was love at first sight.”

“Peter! Please don’t rush me. I think I am in love with you, but it has only been twenty four hours.”

“I know, and at my age I should know better.” He said still grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Now check your emails and let’s see if I can get on your flight.”

“OK Peter.” Caro said as she opened up her emails and found the Charity. “Look Peter these are the flight details.”

Peter looked over her shoulder and using his iPhone made an online booking. He was fortunate to get on both flights. She hugged him again and asked if he wanted anything to drink.

“I’d love a coffee please,” he said.

She went and put the percolator on and returned to sit next to him on the sofa.

“So we left your story with you going to get the cane from Sister Sophia. Please continue, and did you know what happened to the girls that had to report to Sister Joseph?”

“OK! First my punishment. Remember I was in the sixth form so was not wearing regulation knickers. Had I been younger there was good chance that the caning would have been over my knickers which would have offered some protection. Not a lot, but some. Anyway it was panties off and bend over Sister Sophie’s desk. I was very grateful because it is much easier to retain your position that way than touching toes. I bent quite elegantly, I thought, across the desk and my bottom definitely stuck out all bare and unprotected, with Sister Joseph’s stripes from the morning no doubt very visible. Getting the picture Peter?” She asked somewhat unnecessarily.

“Get on with it girl or I might put you over my knee here and now.”

“Oooh! So masterful,” said Caro and, before she could restart the story, she found herself over his lap with her skirt flipped up. Her little panties had ridden up the crack in her bottom leaving it all but bare. Then a volley of spanks came down all on the right cheek. That brought yells from Caro who was kicking her legs and clenching and unclenching her bottom cheeks.

“Please. Stop. Peter! I am sorry for being cheeky,” she cried.

Peter paused and noticed that she was very damp between the legs and he didn’t want to do anything that would destroy her trust in him so just delivered another couple of spanks on the same cheek and then tipped her up back on the sofa which brought squeals as her right cheek made contact with the leather of the sofa.

“Owww!” She yelled.

“Are you going to continue, and then get me that coffee you were making, or are you going back over my knee to have your left cheek warmed up?” Asked Peter as he grinned at her.

“OK Peter! Sorry! She tapped me a few times on the bottom and then swished the cane down across the very centre of my bottom, in the largest gap the four horizontal strokes from Sister Josesph left, striping each cheek.”

She looked very deliberately at Peter as she said ‘each cheek’. He laughed.

“I yelled out loud but really didn’t have any trouble staying bent over. I remember wriggling my bottom to try and make her think it hurt more than it did. That didn’t work. She slapped me twice quite hard, although I knew I was getting off lightly. She told me if I really wanted to wriggle my bottom she would cane me a bit harder. I said: ‘No it was ok’ and apologised. Then number two arrived in the same gap in the stripes I had, though it still crossed the diagonal ones of course, and it was a little harder. I yelped but, other than that, stayed still. The third and last came across the two preceding strokes as well as Sister Josephs diagonal ones, and this brought a genuine screech of pain from me. I stayed in position until she lightly patted my bottom, helped me up and said how sorry she was but no exceptions could be made in a matter like that. She said four girls including two in the lower sixth had gone to see Sister Joseph. I gratefully wiped my eyes, rubbed my bum and left her study. That was the only time I left Sister Sophia’s study after punishment when I was not blubbing like a ten year old. There that is my bit of the story. Now shall I get that coffee or it will be stewed?”

The End