Three girls face punishment, with different reactions

By Kenny Walters

Annabel Crispin looked up at the three sixth form girls standing in front of her desk.

“Your behaviour towards a much younger girl is disgraceful. She is only thirteen, for heaven’s sake. As senior sixth form girls, you should be protecting her from bullying, not taking part in it.”

“It was only a bit of fun, miss,” Julie Duval, a petite blonde-haired girl protested. “We didn’t mean any harm by it.”

“Fun? You think holding a girl down on the grass and pulling her trousers down is fun? How would you like that done to you, young lady?”

“It is a bit of a school tradition, miss.” Jane Denfar, a robustly built girl with long wavy chestnut brown hair, tried to explain when Julie seemed lost for words.

“Not one that has the support of the school, Jane, and it certainly does not have my support!”

“I had it done to me once, miss,” Debbie Vokes combed her fingers through her shoulder length light brown hair as added her voice to try and mitigate their actions.

“We’ve all had it done to us at one stage or another, miss.” Julie explained, as they jointly attempted to placate the wrath of their headmistress.

“And may I ask how old you were when this happened?”

“Fourteen or fifteen, miss,” Julie answered.

“Sixteen, miss.” Debbie added.

“Fifteen, miss.” Jane said softly, feeling she knew where this was going and that it would have little effect on their headmistress.

“And how old were the girls who did these things to you?”

Jane sighed. “The same age, miss.”

The other two girls nodded weakly.

“So, classmates? Girls of a similar age? Girls you knew well?”

All three acknowledged they were the subject of banter amongst their peers rather than any attempt by older girls to have fun at a younger girl’s expense.

“I might accept playful behaviour amongst girls of a similar age, as long as it doesn’t go too far. Indeed, had the girl in this instance been a fellow sixth form girl then I might just have offered a few words of advice and left it at that. But this wasn’t one of your classmates, it was a much younger girl who you, quite frankly, terrified. Tell me, why did you pick on this girl anyway?”

“She’s my boyfriend’s younger sister, miss.” Julie explained. “She was teasing me about my relationship with her brother.”

“And she said some rude things about Jane and me, miss,” Debbie added in support.

“Did she now? Well, let me tell you plainly, that does not give you three the right to seize her and pull her trousers down. No amount of teasing should result in that, should it?”

“No, miss.” All three murmured.

“And, to make it all worse, you somehow managed to damage the zip on her trousers and she had to spend the afternoon with a couple of safety pins holding her flies together.”

Jane Denfar couldn’t resist a smirk on hearing that, and Julie then was unable to avoid a smile.

“It is not funny, girls!” Miss Crispin said loudly. “I shall clearly be dealing with you most severely.”

The three studied their headmistress as she deliberated over their fate. Miss Annabel Crispin always managed to look severe, whether she was praising girls or admonishing them, as in this case. It was something about the way she combed her silver hair tightly back across the top and sides of her head and then fastened it in a tight bun at the back. Then there was the neat but fairly tight black skirt and sparkling white blouse she wore almost as a uniform with unfailingly well-polished black shoes.

“There’s nothing else for it; I shall have to cane the three of you.”

The sudden announcement caught all three girls by surprise, and they stared back in horror at their headmistress.

“Yes, there’s no other option. Eight strokes for each of you. Perhaps that will make you understand how disgracefully I feel you have acted. Now, I shall have to telephone your parents. Goodness only knows what they’ll have to say about your behaviour. Report back here at four o’clock and I’ll deal with you then. Off you go.”

“Is it really necessary to telephone our parents, miss?” Julie asked. I mean, we’re all eighteen, and I’m willing to take whatever punishment you feel we deserve.” The blond girl looked sideways at her two friends for support.

Debbie looked back at her, her lack of enthusiasm clearly evident by the expression on her face. Jane continued to look straight ahead.

Miss Crispin appeared thoughtful.

“Strictly speaking, no, it isn’t necessary, Julie. I do have the right to cane any girl attending this school, even sixth form girls. But, it is very unusual for me to have to cane eighteen year old girls, and I feel parental consent obtained beforehand will avoid any complaints afterwards. Understand?”

“Yes, miss. I suppose so.” Julie conceded reluctantly.

“Right. Off you go then.”

As soon as the three were out in the corridor and away from the ears of any member of staff, they all breathed slightly more easily.

“Oh my god!” Julie exclaimed. “I certainly wasn’t expecting that.”

“Me neither!” Debbie said, puffing out her cheeks. “I was just so sure we were in for a spell of suspension. I was even wondering whether she might expel us.”

“So, how do you feel about being caned?” Julie asked as they walked slowly along the corridor.

Debbie took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I’m not sure. It’s such a rare event these days.”

“I suppose it gets it over with quickly,” Julie said by way of a suggestion. “I just wish she’d got on and done it without all this telephoning our parents. Mine are going to kill me.”

“And mine aren’t going to be best pleased.” Debbie added. “What are your feelings, Jane?”

Jane simply shook her head. Her face was unusually pale, and her expression betrayed her fear.

“Look, we don’t have lessons for nearly an hour.” Julie Duval pointed out after looking at her watch. “Let’s go to the library. It should be quiet at this time of day and we can discuss how we’re going to handle this.”

“And await irate phone calls from our mothers once Miss Crispin has spoken to them.” Debbie added.

It took barely three minutes to climb the stone steps and walk along the upper corridor to the library which, as Julie had suggested, was quite empty. They sat at one of several long tables, Julie on one side and the other two sitting opposite her.

“So, what are we going to do?” Julie asked, having more or less elected herself as chairperson of the meeting.

“I suppose we did go a bit far,” Jane finally spoke. “But caning us? That’s ridiculous.”

Debbie shrugged her shoulders. “Yes, we shouldn’t have done it. But I don’t see what else we can do other than take our medicine at four o’clock. I’m certainly not looking forward to it.”

“Me neither,” Julie concurred. “Jane? Are you with us?”

Jane shook her head, causing strands of her long wavy chestnut brown hair to sit untidily on her shoulders. “No, I’m not going to let her cane me. It’s not right.”

“Do you think your mother will support you?” Julie looked sympathetically towards the full-bodied girl sitting opposite her.

“I-I’m not sure.”

Before anyone could speak again, a mobile phone rang.

“That’s mine,” Debbie said as she reached into her bag. “Hi’ mum. Yes, I know. It was pretty awful, what we did. We’re all regretting it now, of course. Yes. Yes, the cane is unusual for sixth form girls. I’m not sure what I’m going to do. The three of us are just discussing it while we’ve got a gap in lessons. Yes, I get you think we deserve it! Thanks, mum! Okay, I I’ll probably be late home. Bye, mum.”

“And?” Julie asked as Debbie returned her mobile phone to her bag.

“She reckons I deserve a good hiding!”

“So, she wouldn’t stop it, even if she could?”


Another mobile phone rang.

“My turn,” Julie said, pressing a button on her phone. “I know, mum. I know. Yes, yes, I know. It was really stupid. I guess Miss Crispin has told you what she wants to do about it? What do you think? I’m for taking it and getting it over with. You agree? Okay, thanks mum. Yes. Bye.”

“It sounds like your fate is sealed,” Debbie watched as Julie terminated the call.

“Yes, my mum agrees it’s best to just take the whacking and get it over with.”

As they spoke, Jane had her mobile phone in her hand and was calling her mother.

“Hello, mum. Have you spoken to Miss Crispin yet? You have. So, you know what this is all about?” Jane sighed heavily. “Yes, yes, we all agree we shouldn’t have done it. There’s no argument about that. Miss Crispin told you what she wants to do, did she? I think it’s awful. I mean, we’re eighteen, for heaven’s sake. I’m going to refuse. What? I can’t believe you just said that! Really? Mum, I’m eighteen! And that’s your final word? Well, thanks for nothing!”

“Do we take it your mum isn’t too happy?” Debbie asked warily.

“She thinks I shouldn’t do anything to risk being suspended, or worse.”


Jane nodded.

“So, you’re in for a whacking too?” Julie asked.

“No,” Jane remained defiant. “I’m just not going to let it happen.”

“Just make sure Miss Crispin knows you’re speaking for yourself and not us two as well,” Julie cautioned. “You can take whatever our dear headmistress offers you as an alternative if you want, but I want this all resolved at four o’clock today.”

“Me too, I think,” Debbie added.

“Seriously? You’re both going to hold your hands out and let her whack you? It’s bound to hurt, you know.” Jane stated firmly.

“Really?” Debbie put a finger to her lips. “Getting hit with a cane hurts? I’d never have thought of that,” she said sarcastically.

“That’s a point,” Julie added. “Will she cane us on her hands? I’d rather expected to be bending over when she does it. What makes you say we’d be holding our hands out, Jane?”

“I don’t know. It’s just something I’ve heard.”

“Do any of us know anyone who has been caned?” Julie asked. “Only, it’s probably best to know what to expect.”

The other two shook their heads in response.

“Anyway, it doesn’t matter to me. I’m not going to take the cane. End of.” Jane folded her arms defiantly.

“I think I’ll have to close my eyes,” Debbie responded. “I don’t think I could just stand there and let her thrash the cane down on my hands.”

“We ought to be getting to our classes,” Julie said, looking at her watch. “We all have to see Miss Crispin at four o’clock, so Jane can do her refusal then and we’ll find out soon enough exactly what a caning from Miss Crispin entails.”


“Do we knock, or wait for her to come and invite us in?” Debbie Vokes asked as the three girls stood outside their headmistress’s office.

“It’s just before four, so we’re a tad early,” Julie said, having looked at her watch. “If she hasn’t come out by, say, three minutes past four, then we’ll knock. Okay?”

The plan was accepted by the other two, so they stood on the opposite side of the corridor to the door and waited. All three fiddled with their clothing, straightened collars, smoothed down the white blouses they all wore as part of the sixth form uniform, brushed imaginary dust off their grey trousers and the tightish grey skirt that Debbie wore. They were interrupted by the door being pulled open from inside.

“Come in, girls.” Miss Crispin left the door open for them as she returned to her desk.

The three girls formed a line in front of the headmistress’s large walnut desk, their eyes fixed on a slender two-foot-long rattan cane that rested on the polished surface.

“This gives me no pleasure, girls.” Miss Crispin said as she looked up into their faces. “But I feel that it is necessary. So, unless any of you have anything to say, I suggest we get on with it.”

“Actually, miss,” Julie started, but then stopped.

“Yes, Julie?”

“We, err, did have a couple of questions, actually miss.” Julie looked sideways at Jane, then back to the headmistress.

“Okay, Julie, ask away.” Miss Crispin glanced quickly at Jane before returning to Julie.

“Um, could you sort of, I mean, well, could you tell us exactly what we’d have to do, please miss.”

“I’m sorry? I’m not sure exactly what you’re asking, Julie.”

Julie took a deep breath and exhaled as her two friends looked sideways towards her.

“Are you going to cane our hands or our bottoms, miss?” Debbie stepped in when Julie seemed unable to ask.

“That’s a good point, Debbie.” Miss Crispin turned her attention to the tall, dark haired girl. “I mentioned eight strokes earlier. I had thought to apply the strokes to your bottoms, Debbie, but if any of you would prefer to take the punishment on your hands then I would suggest four on each hand. I will leave the choice to each of you.”

Julie looked at Debbie and smiled, grateful her friend had put into words what she had found too difficult to ask. Debbie then turned slightly towards Jane before addressing the headmistress again.

“Miss, I’m not sure we are all positive about being caned.”

“Positive? What do you mean?” The headmistress replied abruptly. After a little thought, she then added: “Are you asking what alternative there might be to the cane? Is that it, Debbie?”

“I believe one of us was wondering, miss.”

“So, presumably not you, then, Debbie.” Miss Crispin glanced momentarily at Jane. “I had not really considered any alternative, Debbie. If I were pressed on the matter, then I would be looking to expel the girl.”

Julie and Debbie remained silent, allowing Jane to speak for herself, if she so wanted. When Jane still said nothing, Miss Crispin took the initiative.

“Jane, unless I’m very much mistaken, it is you who are reluctant to take the punishment I’ve offered. Is that correct?”

“Yes, miss,” Jane answered in a whisper.

“Jane, I do not cane unless there really is no alternative, as I’m sure you are aware. You do realise that, don’t you?”

“Yes, miss.”

“I may say your mother was also unenthusiastic for you to be caned, but then she was also very much against you being expelled. In the end, she reluctantly accepted that it would be best all round if you took the caning.”

“Yes, miss.” Jane bit her lip as she thought.

Unfortunately, her headmistress seized on what she thought was the girl’s agreement.

“Good! That’s settled then. So, shall we move on? It’s already nearly a quarter past four and I’m sure you girls will be wanting to get off home.”

Julie and Debbie both saw Jane’s expression of hopelessness, but were rapidly becoming more concerned with their own fates, so they left Jane to continue her protestations if she chose to do so.

Meanwhile, Miss Crispin stood up and fetched a small plain chair from where it stood near to a tall open bookcase. She positioned it in a clear area of burgundy-carpeted floor with its back facing the girls.

“So, would anyone like to volunteer to go first?” The headmistress picked the cane up from her desk as she awaited a response.

Julie, the petite blond girl, saw her two companions hesitating and took the initiative.

“I will, miss.”

“Well done, Julie. Come over here and either hold your left hand out or bend over the back of this chair.”

Silently, the small girl approached the chair and made a reasonable attempt at bending over its back, the top rail pressing into her midriff.

“A little further over, if you could, Debbie,” Miss Crispin requested. “See if you can get your head further down closer to the seat.”

By standing on tip-toe, Julie was able to get her head lower, which then had the effect of pushing her bottom higher so that it became an easier target.

“Good! Keep still!”

After giving the seat of Julie’s grey trousers a couple of taps with the cane, Miss Crispin quickly drew the cane back and whipped it sharply down so that it cracked across the girl’s bottom.

Julie grunted and flinched with her whole body but soon settled back down to await the next stroke. Within seconds, Miss Crispin applied the second stroke. This brought another grunt and another flinch. A third swish of the cane soon lashed across Julie’s tight, petite bottom, and within moments a fourth quickly followed. At this, though, Julie raised her head a little and wiggled her hips in an attempt to dissipate the pain.

After allowing herself a few seconds to survey the small girl’s bottom and to draw breath, Miss Crispin again tapped Julie’s bottom a couple of times before drawing the cane back and slamming the fifth stroke across the tight seat of the girl’s grey trousers. This brought the loudest grunt yet from Julie, and another wiggle of her hips.

The final three strokes were administered in rapid succession, despite some movement from Julie. The headmistress, though, seemed satisfied that eight strokes had been duly given and the girl had been properly punished.

“Thank you, Julie. You may stand.”

As the blond girl gently eased herself up and tenderly rubbed her bottom, Miss Crispin was already looking towards the other two girls.

“Can I have the next girl, please? Julie, you may wait here for your friends or leave the room. It’s entirely up to you.”

While Debbie and Jane anxiously looked at each other, Julie walked straight towards the door and left the room without saying a word.

“Come along, girls, one of you, please.”

Although Debbie was hoping to put her whacking off as long as possible, she was aware Jane was also showing no sign of movement and that their headmistress was becoming impatient. Reluctantly, she took the short walk across to the chair. Being eight inches taller than Julie, she found it easy to bend right over the back of the chair and offer an easy target of her bottom. Her tight-fitting grey skirt stretched across both buttocks and clearly showed the outline of brief panties through the cotton skirt. Miss Crispin noted the cut-away style of the underwear.

Debbie flinched as the cane tapped her three times across the bottom, then quickly braced herself. As she expected, the cane immediately whipped across her bottom and she grimaced as the pain struck home. Gripping onto the seat of the chair, she awaited the next stroke. It soon came, giving her another dose of sharp, stinging agony.

‘Just keep still and let her get on with it,’ Debbie thought to herself, having at least had the experience of seeing how the headmistress conducted the punishment when dealing with Julie.

Any further thought was rudely interrupted by the third stroke cracking across her bottom. The sound seemed to resonate round the room, and the sting made the girl’s eyes water. Before she could gather her thoughts, though, a fourth application of the cane stung her bottom again.

‘Halfway!’ Debbie made a mental note to herself as Miss Crispin paused, as she had with Julie. ‘Is the break for her or for me?’ Debbie wondered.

It wasn’t a long pause, though, and all too soon another stroke whipped across the seat of her skirt.

“Ouch!” Debbie called out, surprised by the sudden impact. They were at least on the final four strokes now.

As before with Julie, the final three strokes were applied extremely quickly with barely a second in between.

“Aargh!!” Debbie called out and screwed her face up with the smarting anguish.

“That’s it, Debbie. Up you get.”

Despite her headmistress’s words, Debbie took her time standing upright again, her left hand gently rubbing the seat of her skirt and her right hand holding onto the back of the chair. Her legs felt strangely weak and unsteady, and tears were rolling down both sides of her face.

“You may leave or remain while I deal with Jane. Your choice, Debbie.”

“I-I think I’d like to leave, miss.” Debbie sobbed.

“Right. Off you go, then.”

Still rubbing her bottom, but with both hands now, Debbie left the room.

Miss Crispin turned to Jane. “You can’t put it off any longer, Jane. Come along.”

For encouragement, Miss Crispin patted the top rail of the chair, and Jane started walking as slowly as she possibly could towards the headmistress. She rubbed the fingers of her right hand in the palm of her left hand.

“I would advise against that idea, Jane,” said Miss Crispin. “I assume you were thinking of taking it on your hands?”

Jane looked at her headmistress.

“It is far more painful when the cane is administered to the palm of your hand, Jane. The choice is up to you, of course, but I strongly recommend you bend over the chair like the other two.”

Still Jane appeared hesitant and doubtful.

“Have you ever had your bottom smacked, Jane?” Miss Crispin asked, a kindly and sympathetic smile expression on her face.

Jane shook her head.

“So, it’s a new experience for you. I suggest you now accept that is what is going to happen. It’s going to hurt; that’s the point of corporal punishment. It is an ordeal; it wouldn’t be the ultimate deterrent if it wasn’t. But the punishment is to receive eight strokes like your friends did. I’m doing it because I care, not because I hold any hostility towards you. Therefore, I will gladly support you through this as much as I can. Okay?”

“Yes, miss.” Jane acknowledged hearing this small speech.

“Good. Come and bend over the back of the chair, then.”

‘Oh god!’ Jane thought. ‘Yet again, she’s taken my yes to mean I’m going to do it.’

“The thinking about it is often worse than the event, Jane,” Miss Crispin encouraged.

Jane didn’t answer. She hesitated. Miss Crispin patted the top rail of the chair.
Jane slowly edged forward.

“Over you go!” The headmistress said as Jane finally reached the chair.

So there would be no backing out now, Miss Crispin took Jane by the back of the head and forced her down over the chair.

“Let’s get your head right down, Jane. That will make your bottom stick out and give me a good target to aim at. It will also stretch your trousers across your bottom and that will impart a good sting to your bottom.”

Continued pressure to the back of Jane’s head meant she had little alternative but to comply. In keeping with her headmistress’s words, her grey trousers did indeed feel extremely tight across her ample bottom, to the point she felt they were at considerable risk of splitting. Never the slimmest of girls, Jane regretted her liking for jam doughnuts.

“That’s a good position, Jane. Now, let’s get this done so we can all go home, eh?”

Jane gripped the sides of the small chair for all she was worth. Having witnessed both her friends being caned, she knew the dreaded couple of light taps on her bottom could not be far off and following them would be the far-from-gentle first stroke. That would hurt, but how much would it hurt?

The gentle taps were felt within ten seconds, and the first stroke landed across Jane’s firm buttocks just a moment or two later.


“I know, Jane, it hurts, doesn’t it?”

‘Yes, it damn well does!’ Jane thought to herself.

A second stroke whipped down across the whole width of Jane’s bottom. It hurt like anything and made her eyes water.

Third and fourth strokes quickly followed. They were extremely painful and had the girl gasping for air. To add to her discomfort, Jane’s long chestnut brown hair, that masked her face as it hung down towards the floor, was becoming dampened by the now steady flow of tears down her face.

“Would you like a few moments to sort yourself out, Jane?” Miss Crispin offered, having seen the mess Jane was in.

“Yes, please,” Jane gasped, and stood up.

“Here, take a few tissues and dry your face.” The headmistress waved a large box of tissue handkerchiefs under Jane’s nose.

“Thank you, miss.” Jane took a handful of the tissues and started wiping her face, conscious that much of her make-up was being removed too.

“Would you like a rubber band to perhaps fasten your hair in a ponytail?”

Jane shook her head. “Perhaps I could get some grips from my bag and fasten it up in a bun, miss?”

“Yes, if you prefer, Jane.”

It took Jane several minutes to get herself together, her tears abated, her face dry, and her hair drawn tightly back and secured in a bun at the back of her head.

“Ready, Jane?” Miss Crispin asked.

Jane stared nervously back.

“Come back here and bend over, then.”

Jane hesitated. “Do I really have to, miss? My bum is already quite sore.”

“I expect it is, Jane, but the punishment is eight strokes and that is what you must have. Come along now. Let’s give you your final four whacks.”

Hands by her side, face sullen, Jane approached the small chair once again and bent over the back without further prompting.

“Head down a little further and stick your bottom out, please Jane.”

The girl obeyed immediately, her grey trousers now stretched tightly across her neat, slim bottom.

“Good! Now keep very still.”

As Jane gripped the sides of the chair seat so tightly her knuckles were white, Miss Crispin lined up the cane and whipped it down four times in very quick succession. Jane barely had time to flinch before her caning was completed, even though the strokes really stung her backside and left it smarting.

“Ooooww!!” She screamed instinctively. “Oh my god, that smarts!!”

“All right, Jane, all done.”

As Jane slowly and cautiously rose up from her bending position, Miss Crispin put an arm round her shoulder. The closeness of the headmistress meant that Jane could only reach behind with her right hand to apply a gentle, soothing massage to her now tender bottom cheeks.

“It had to be done, Jane. It had to be done.”

“Yes, miss,” Jane answered through sobs, as tears rolled down her face.

“Now, I should get off and sort yourself out in the toilets, wash your face, redo your make-up and then get off home. Your friends are probably waiting for you.”

“Yes, miss. Thank you, miss.”

Jane left the room, rubbing her bottom.

The End

© Kenny Walters 2020

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