Archive for ‘School & College Stories’

October 24, 2014

In My Imagination – A poem

By David

In my imagination, you’d be bent

To take a taste of corporal punishment

Delivered by a long thin cane, designed

For great effect upon a girl’s behind,

Its power to sting severely much improved

When skirts that cover buttocks are removed.


As each cruel cut inflames your cringing rear

You gasp and groan, then shed a bitter tear.

Once over, fix your uniform with care

Lest tender cheeks be chafed by underwear,

Then stumble from the scene, hands vainly rubbing

Those regions where the rod has done its drubbing.


Later, before the mirror, you survey

The damage done and see, to your dismay,

Red stripes that cross your crevice, cheek to cheek.

You’ll not sit down in comfort for a week.

October 24, 2014

An English Education

Two girls are in more trouble than they feared. By a new writer to us.

By David

It was with some trepidation that Annabel and Hattie knocked on the Principal’s door and entered his outer office. Mr Foreman’s secretary took the slip of paper that Annabel was holding and went in to see him, reappearing a moment later and ushering them inside. Once the inner door was closed, they were left to face him across his desk.

“Well girls,” said Mr Foreman, “Even though you are Upper Sixth students, I see that you’ve been causing such disruption in class that you have been sent to me with a request that I punish you. What do you have to say about this?”

October 19, 2014

Gap Year

As a means to an end, a girl attends an extremely traditional school.

By Bella Bryce

The formal notice arrived on crisp ivory paper with the school’s crest displayed prominently at the top, as if it were making a grand entrance straight out of the envelope. Samantha frowned as she began to read.  ‘Report to the Prefects on grounds of suspicion for rule breaking??’

“Bullocks! What’ve I done – breathed wrong??”

Her outburst fell on deaf ears, and she sounded ridiculous shouting at a piece of paper. She read on for another line and then crumpled the letter. Sam could care less, because firstly, she wasn’t guilty, and secondly, if she was, it wasn’t her fault. Thirdly, she wasn’t going. She had sprints to run and dribbling to perfect before her first Langton football match. Centre forwards didn’t score goals with their eyes closed, they scored goals because they ran their arses off and practiced outside of practice. The whole reason she was on scholarship at Langton School was because of her talent on the football pitch, not because of her grades.

October 17, 2014

Emma Stiles

Trouble ensues when the strict school uniform regulations are not adhered to.

By Gillian Howard

In 1967 I passed my 11+ exam and was rewarded with a place at our local grammar school. The school had gone co-educational the previous year because our small town could not support two separate grammar schools. I was the first member of our family to pass the 11+ and my parents and grand parents were really proud of me.

At junior school my behaviour was generally very good although I had been told off several times and was once sent out to stand in corridor for an hour. At this time it was common for pupils to receive corporal punishment and we had heard that at the secondary school it was very common for teachers to cane pupils in front of the class on a regular basis. At the grammar School we had heard that corporal punishment still took place but not as often.

October 12, 2014

The Lesser Evil

Catching a girl with tobacco in her possession leads to a dilemma for a teacher. By another new writer to us.

By Bill Bond

Lucy chatted to her friends as the maths class tidied up at the end of a busy Thursday in Croft Girls’ School. Her mind had already left school and was looking forward to a fun evening at Jane’s house, filled with pizza, gossip and whatever the TV had to offer. Perhaps it was absent mindedness that led to her mistake; as she clumsily picked up her open pencil case it dropped on to the desk, right under Mr Stevens’ nose.

October 10, 2014

The Seat of Learning

Firm discipline improves a girl’s performance.

By Jane Fairweather

“I really do not want to go to this silly school. It seems to be for bright girls and I am not at all clever! You are just being stupid and wanting me to achieve more than I possibly can! I am just not good enough for college.” Eighteen year old Jane Hardy protested at the end of a very heated half hour’s discussion with her guardian about whether to transfer to the very high powered Lamont School at the beginning of the next school year.

Even as she said it she realised she was trying Uncle Charles’ patience and asking to go from the frying pan of severe admonition into the fire that was all too readily available in the basket of canes of various sizes that stood in the corner of her guardian’s study, or the horribly stinging leather slipper that resided in his desk drawer. But still she had been punished before; what did she care, she thought, as she glowered at  the tall, red bearded man in the chair opposite, who had been making her stand with her hands behind her back being told what to do for over half an hour; why couldn’t she do what she wanted?

October 8, 2014

Kicking the Habit VII: One Puff

The next in the series, and two girls experience the results of smoking in school

By Joanna Jones

Seventh in a series of stories where painful experiences, coupled with potentially worse sanctions in the future, lead to girls getting the impetus to give up tobacco, though in this case it is only partially successful.

Have I ever smoked in my life?

Well technically the answer must be yes, I suppose. I have in my entire life taken exactly one drag on a cigarette.

That drag was taken behind the bike shed (hardly novel but it was one of the places where those that smoked would go) in my girls’ grammar school. That single puff of tobacco led to ‘consequences’. Consequences that I recall here.

September 19, 2014

Revenge Served Cold

Punishment, when deserved is one thing, but sometimes a pupil feels particularly hard done by.

By Joanna Jones

My worst experience at school was at the hands of my Headmaster, a bad tempered man with, to my mind, a vicious streak when it came to punishments.

During my school career I was caned twice by him; one was harsh, but I was in the wrong so I could live with it. The other was, to my mind, totally unfair; I was literally just in the wrong place at the wrong time and for reasons best known only to him he caned me, adding extra for my impertinence in protesting my innocence. I had nothing to do with the incident, and it was the most upsetting and painful experience of my school career.

September 3, 2014


A second by second account of a girl being caned.

By Joanna Jones

The moment I walk in I know I’m doomed. My fate is sealed, I am done for.

I knew it anyway, had been anticipating the dread call all morning, but it is still awful to see it so starkly confirmed.

It’s the chair that says it all, sited oddly with its back against his desk.

Sited for me to mount I am sure.

My mouth is dry as I hear Miss Frobisher close the door behind us. Clearly she is staying here. I guess that is why I had to wait, wait till she was on a free period.

September 1, 2014

The Honeymoon

War looms and a couple look back.

by Jane Fairweather

It was late on a Sunday and it was towards the end of July 1914. The possibility of war might be in the headlines, but the young English couple were here in Paris for their honeymoon. The Frenchman was gabbling what Jennifer Franklin (who had so recently been Jennifer Ashton) took to be felicitations on their marriage, which was little more than twenty-four hours old, but seemed years ago and in a faraway land, though it had only been in a village church in Kent, which was scarcely that far away from this little hotel in Paris, where her husband seemed rather well known. George was responding in his very good French, which was what you would expect of an English naval attache in France, which had been the appointment that had persuaded her family to cease their objections to the marriage. Her own command of the language was slight in the extreme; she could just about recite the present tenses of  etre and avoir and aller and she knew chez nous meant ‘our house’ and fermez la fenetre meant ‘shut the window’, but she could barely read French and she had never heard the language spoken before.