A girl gets a lesson in school etiquette the hard way

By Kenny Walters

“You idiot! You’re crazy! What on earth were you thinking of? They’ll murder you!”

“You think I was a little bit unwise then, Jenny, do you?”

“Unwise? You, Sam? Oh, well just a tad, maybe.” The blond haired girl turned back to writing in the exercise book in front of her on the highly polished library table. “I mean, telling Miss Frobisher that two prefects were smoking cannabis in the woods at the back of the playing fields was really sensible, wasn’t it? Miss Frobisher, of all people? The most humourless teacher in the school who just loves to go snitching to the headmistress?”

“It wasn’t quite like that actually, Jen.” The pretty dark haired girl flicked her long tresses back over her shoulder. “I mean, Miss Frobisher was already suspicious. That’s why she was asking me if I knew whether anyone was there.”

“Did a simple ‘don’t know, Miss Frobisher’ never occur to you, Sam? Anything to avoid stitching up two prefects?”

“But she’d have gone looking anyway. Miss Frobisher can sniff out cannabis ten miles away. She’s renowned for it.”

“Yes, but her glee and enthusiasm would have known no bounds once she’d been told a couple of prefects were there for the taking. I bet she went to the headmistress so fast she set the concrete paving on fire. Who was it, anyway?”

“Mmm, perhaps you’re right. Perhaps I did make a little faux pas.” Samantha Robertson finally conceded. “Judy Billings and Claire Rogers. Perhaps I ought to pop over to see them and apologise.”

“Has it occurred to you that you might not be the person they most want to see just now? Not while they’re still massaging their sore bottoms at any rate.” Jennifer Masters concluded writing in her exercise book and replaced the cap on her pen. “Judy and Claire, eh? Well overdue for smacked bottoms, by my reckoning. Then they did both give me detentions for talking in the corridors, so I suppose I would say that.”

“Miss Truman may not have caned them, you know Jen. It isn’t compulsory. You might at least try and look on the bright side.”

“I was looking on the bright side actually. Our dear headmistress could have expelled them for an offence like that. She could even have called the police in.”

“Oh, gee, thanks!” Samantha Robertson gave her long dark hair another comb through with her hands. “I mean, how can I make things right with them?”

If they’ve been expelled, only with the greatest of difficulty. If they’ve been caned, perhaps you could offer to build your own execution scaffold. Are you any good at woodwork?”

“This is not funny, Jennifer!” Samantha wailed. “What am I going to do?”


“Durrrrr! Yes! Seriously! You don’t see a happy smiling face, do you?” Samantha pointed at her own attractive features.

“Head Girl.” Jennifer Masters replied instantly. “Font of all knowledge. Always bang up to date with all the latest gossip. She’ll know what’s happened to Judy and Claire, and she might be able to advise you which bridge to jump off, before they catch up with you.”

“As my best friend, Jennifer, I do think you might take this a little more seriously. At the moment I have visions of them stripping me naked and chucking me in the duck pond, in full view of the whole school.”

“Unlikely, Sam, on two counts. Firstly, we don’t have a duck pond. Secondly, Miss Truman wouldn’t allow it, not in public anyway. She’d be too frightened someone would photograph it and show the school up in a bad light. There’s always the swimming pool, though. That should be nice and cold this time of year.”

“That just doesn’t bear thinking about. The trouble is, it could happen. You’ll have to help me hide until they’ve calmed down and forgotten about me.”

“No fear! I’ll be enjoying every moment!” Jennifer Masters grinned as she thought about her friend’s possible ordeal, then looked at her watch. “If you were thinking about seeing the Head Girl, Sam, now would be a good time before she packs up and heads for home.”

Samantha Robertson walked briskly along the corridor and just caught Vicky Johannsen as she was leaving her first floor study next to the prefects’ common room. Samantha’s heart raced, both from her hurried dash to catch Vicky before she left and the fear she might just bump into Judy Billings and Claire Rogers.

“Vicky! Vicky, hold up! I need a word.”

The tall, firmly built blond girl looked up and immediately stopped from inserting her key into the lock. “Well, well! If it isn’t the infamous Samantha Robertson, no less. The renowned supergrass from the upper sixth.”

“You’ve heard then, Vicky.”

“I hear everything, Samantha. That’s why I’m such a fantastic Head girl.” The tall blond pushed the door open and stood aside. “In you go, Samantha. Before anyone catches me talking to you.”

Samantha went inside the small office and watched while Vicky closed the door behind them. “Are you being serious, Vicky? About not wanting to be seen with me, I mean?”

Vicky waved Samantha to sit in the small chair in front of her desk. “Of course not, stupid! I’m made from good strong Viking stock. I don’t get told who I can speak to and who I can’t.”

“Right.” Samantha reflected for a moment on Vicky’s reputation as the first team hockey centre half. Few got past her and fewer still got past her with the ball. Clearly of Scandinavian ancestry, Vicky was born and bred in the north of England and spoke accordingly, albeit with occasional Nordic traits.

“So, what are we going to do with you then, eh Samantha?”

“I seem to have got myself into a bit of a mess, Vicky. I didn’t mean to drop Judy and Claire in it, I really didn’t. It’s just that Miss Frobisher caught me unawares and I blurted it out without thinking. Do you know what happened to Judy and Claire? They’re not in really serious trouble, are they?”

“For being caught smoking cannabis, Samantha?” Vicky looked impassively at the dark haired girl. “I think we can say they discovered Miss Truman wasn’t greatly amused.”

Samantha gestured with her hands, asking the unspoken question.

“They got ten strokes each, Samantha. Across their thin little panties. At least that’s the story they’re admitting to.”

“You don’t think…?”

“No, I think Miss Truman would have allowed them to protect their modesty if not their bottoms.”

“They haven’t been expelled, or anything?”

“No, Miss Truman considered sore bottoms was sufficient. Obviously, anything to do with the police might have exposed the school to bad publicity and she would never risk that.”

“That’s something, at least.” Samantha breathed a little more easily. “I expect they hate me?”

“I think that would be a fair description, Samantha. Maybe it’s a little mild compared to some of the things they’ve been saying, but you’ve got the idea.”

“I can’t blame them, Vicky, I’d have felt the same in their shoes. The thing is, what can I do about it? How can I make it up to them?”

“You really want to know?

“Yes, I really want to know.”

Vicky Johannsen thought for several moments before answering. “At the moment, all Judy and Claire are speaking about is getting even. I guess we can all understand their feelings, can’t we?”

“Of course.”

“It might be better, Samantha, if we allow them their few minutes of revenge and control it so they don’t get the chance to do anything too excessive. What do you think?”

“That has already been suggested, actually. A dunking in the swimming pool was mentioned, probably without the benefit of a swimming costume.” Samantha smiled ruefully.

“Maybe.” Vicky shrugged. “I guess we need to let their own imaginations consider what torture is to be administered to you. To a point, at least. Are you up for it, though?”

“Yes.” Samantha answered immediately, then considered her response. “Actually, I’d be pleased if they did do something to me, nothing too horrible I hope, so we can get back to normal again without them despising me. Do you think that’s possible?”

“Oh yes. I’ll make sure of it. But this will be for tomorrow, after school, when they’ve had a chance to cool down a bit. Okay?”

The following day, feeling decidedly happier with Head Girl Vicky Johannsen helping her to sort things out with the two prefects, Judy Billings and Claire Rogers, Samantha decided to dress as casually as the rules allowed to avoid getting expensive clothes damaged by whatever indignity was to be imposed on her that afternoon after school. She therefore chose to wear black leggings, tight fitting with of course an elasticated waistband, and a white cotton sleeved top with a generous neckline. In case the neckline offended any member of staff, she added a silk scarf in the school colours of red and grey to cover up.

“You’re looking good today.” Jennifer Masters greeted her just inside the main door. “Something on later?”

“Very funny!” Samantha retorted in good humour. “Stretchy and inexpensive seemed the order of the day.”

“Easy to pull off, you mean.”

Samantha blushed. “You haven’t heard anything, have you?”

“I might have.”

“Like what?”

“Sorry, Sam, I can’t tell you because, like, that would be snitching and they don’t like that sort of thing around here. Oh sorry, you know that already, don’t you?”


The day dragged on for Samantha and she found it hard to tackle her lessons with any real enthusiasm. Her plan was to hover around the first floor corridor close to the prefects’ common room just after four o’clock, believing there was no sense in delaying the inevitable by hiding herself away somewhere and making them look for her. It was also conveniently close to Head Girl Vicky Johannsen’s little study and she regarded Vicky as her main hope of not being too severely dealt with.

Samantha’s last period of the day, a private coaching session with her Art teacher, had to be cancelled due to the teacher being called away on a personal matter and so she went to the library and selected a book on Constable for some private study. The library was otherwise empty which was good for Samantha as it meant she was free from the attentions and perhaps teasing of others. It would also allow her almost an hour to prepare herself for whatever lay ahead.

“She’s in here!”

Barely ten minutes after settling down with her chosen book, Samantha was caught off-guard by the voice just outside the door. Almost instantly, the door was thrust open and about ten of her fellow sixth formers burst in. Amongst them was her best friend, Jennifer Masters.

“Sorry, Sam, but we’ve been delegated to take you to the changing rooms.” Jennifer announced rather more gleefully than Samantha would have wished. A couple of girls grabbed Samantha’s arms to confirm she was now effectively their prisoner.

“Okay! Okay! I’m coming!” Samantha found herself being pulled in more than one direction which made it harder for her to stand than if she had been left to her own devices.

“Should we carry her?” One girl suggested.

“I think we should.” Another girl confirmed.

“Too far!” A small chorus countered.

“We’ll march her along to the entrance to the changing rooms and then we’ll carry her inside. How about that?” Alison Potter, a small blond girl, suggested.

“Let’s do it!” The chorus appeared to agree, and Samantha was dragged out of the library and along the corridor towards the changing rooms.

The other girls grouped around, making it appear they were just a small class of sixth formers with somewhere to go and disguising the fact that one of their number wasn’t entirely a willing participant. Certainly, no-one inside the classrooms they passed felt the need to come out and query their antics.

The changing rooms, set at the north-eastern corner of the main school building, were at the end of a corridor that led nowhere other than the changing rooms and at this late stage of the school day were deserted. About ten yards before they reached the double doors that opened into the large changing rooms, the party stopped.

“Right, let’s get her airborne!” Someone said, and Samantha felt her legs being gripped and her arms being held even more tightly as she was lifted and held in a fairly horizontal position at shoulder height.

“I could walk, you know!” Samantha protested, knowing full well the others were thoroughly enjoying having her as their prisoner and were most certainly not going to let her continue of her own accord.

Inside the changing rooms, a large room with ten rows of double hooks mounted above long low wooden benches, Samantha could just see Judy Billings standing aloft on one of the benches near to the shower room.

“Bring her here!” Judy, a short girl with collar length light brown hair, called out. “Put her down.”

As Samantha was roughly placed back on her feet, she noticed that the Head Girl, Vicky Johannsen, and Claire Rogers, a thin girl with very black hair tied tightly into a severe ponytail, stood close by. Judy and Claire both wore navy blue tracksuits.

Samantha decided to get her piece in quickly. “Claire, Judy, I really am so sorry for getting you in trouble like that. It was just that Miss Frobisher caught me unawares and I just blurted it out without thinking. I really, really didn’t mean to.”

“Someone lock the doors.” Judy ordered, completely ignoring Samantha’s apology. Once she was certain they wouldn’t be disturbed, Judy got down from the low bench and went past Samantha into the small open area near to the door leading to the showers. “Claire?”

Claire Rogers immediately took hold of Samantha’s arm and led her towards her fellow prefect. Samantha, finding herself being taken towards the showers, immediately assumed she was to be subjected to a rather cold drenching.

“Please! Can you strip me first? I’d really prefer not to get these clothes wet.”

“Do you hear that Jude?” Claire sneered. “She thinks she’s in for nice cold bath.”

“It’s an idea.” Judy replied. “Perhaps later? She’ll need cooling down a bit when we’ve finished with her.”

“What are you going to do with me?” Samantha asked, using a weak smile to suggest she was a willing participant in order to try and make things right with the two prefects.

“This way!” Judy again ignored Samantha and both prefects now held their dark haired victim by the wrists and dragged her through into the gymnasium. It was, as expected, deserted at that time of day and all the equipment had been neatly stacked away, with the exception of a large leather vaulting horse which stood prominently in the centre of the large floor. Samantha began to see where this was leading.

The two prefects paused to allow the other girls time to file through into the gymnasium, then hauled Samantha over to the vaulting horse.

“I want to show you something,” Judy said coldly. She turned her back on Samantha and quickly thrust her tracksuit trousers down to her ankles, followed by brief flimsy pink panties. “What do you think about that?” She added as she held her tracksuit top well clear of her bottom.

“Oh God!” Samantha whispered as she saw Judy’s naked buttocks and a mass of vivid dark reddish lines crossing the milky white curves of bare bottom flesh. “I really am so sorry, Judy.”

“And mine!” Claire also turned her back and exposed her buttocks for Samantha’s inspection. Her bottom, too, had clearly been soundly thrashed by their headmistress.”

“Claire, I don’t know what to say.” Samantha suppressed a thought burrowing away in her mind that wanted to remind them both they weren’t actually innocent of the crime for which they had been punished. This just didn’t seem a good time.

“We don’t tell tales in this school, Samantha.” Claire said as she and Judy pulled their clothes back up. “Clearly, we need to teach you that.”

“I do know that, Claire. Really I do. I just let it slip, that’s all. But I realise we need to even the score.” Samantha cast her eyes downwards, finding it hard to look the two prefects in the eye. “What are you going to do to me? I won’t resist.”

“Unfortunately, we weren’t able to have access to one of Miss Truman’s canes.” Judy explained. “Otherwise you’d be getting just what the both of us got.”

Samantha nodded, understanding the logic.

“However, Our Head Girl as always managed to provide a suitable alternative.”

Samantha looked round as they were joined by Vicky Johannsen. Vicky handed a wide canvas belt to Judy. It was just eighteen inches long and a couple of inches wide, but heavy and quite thick. “It’s part of an old drive belt they use in my father’s factory,” Vicky explained.

“You get twenty-four strokes, twelve from me and twelve from Claire,” Judy informed Samantha who was staring down at the heavy belt.

Samantha breathed in deeply. “Okay. Where do you want me?”

“Could we have a bit of help?” Claire called across to the other girls, standing a little away from the vaulting horse.

Several girls stepped up close and a couple held onto Samantha’s arms. The girl holding her right arm was Jennifer Masters. “Sorry, Sam, but you do rather deserve this you know!”

“Across the end of the horse, please girls.” Claire instructed, and Samantha was hauled round to one end of the vaulting horse and bent across it. Jennifer and Paula Watson, a dark girl holding Samantha’s left arm, pulled her along the length of the horse. Two other girls sat on the floor and held onto Samantha’s lower legs, pinning them to the legs of the vaulting horse.

“Someone bare her bum!”

“I will!” Alison Potter pushed forward before anyone else was able to and quickly tugged Samantha’s tight black leggings and brief white panties down to the girl’s ankles. Held down as she was, Samantha wasn’t in any position to resist and she had anyway surrendered to the idea that at some stage in the proceedings she would be stripped.

“This is going to hurt!” Judy Billings announced with some relish.

“Okay.” Samantha replied, and held her bottom steady. “I accept I have to take my punishment.”

While Samantha might have been genuinely prepared to take a good spanking to set things right with the two prefects, she certainly wasn’t ready for the pain caused by the heavy belt being lashed across her backside.

“Yeow! That smarts!” Samantha cried with feeling.

“Good!” Judy answered, and immediately whipped another stroke down.

Samantha grunted, and grunted again when another swing of the heavy canvas strap thrashed across her naked bottom.

The silence in the large hall was practically deafening as they all watched Judy slowly lash stroke after stroke across Samantha’s buttocks and saw the pale creamy flesh slowly growing redder and darker.

Samantha for her part kept as still as she was able with the pain from each hit biting into her. Her whole bottom seemed to be getting rapidly hotter and sorer as the strokes slowly and surely kept coming. It was tempting for her to ask how many she’d taken, and therefore how many she had yet to take, but it seemed inappropriate somehow, and would she get a worthwhile anyway?

“Ow!!” Samantha screamed as the belt thrashed her low down across the tops of her thighs.

“Keep it up on her bottom,” Samantha heard Vicky Johannsen murmur.

Judy obediently slashed the next stroke across the higher parts of Samantha’s naked buttocks.

And then, suddenly, the beating stopped and the people in the room began to breathe again, and to fidget and relax a little.

“Do you want a break, Sam?” Vicky asked quietly. “Before Claire’s turn.”

Samantha sniffed back a couple of tears that threatened to roll down her face. “No, not really. Let’s just get it over with.” She sensed rather than saw Judy hand the heavy canvas strap to Claire, who then moved around behind the girl pinioned across the end of the vaulting horse.

“You ready then?” Claire asked without a trace of sympathy.

“Yes, ready.” Samantha answered, her voice unsteady with the soreness she’d already been caused. “Aaaahh!!”

Unseen by Samantha, Claire quickly swung the heavy strap and brought it crashing down. Unprepared, Samantha felt the pain shooting across her bottom.

The next stroke, every bit as hard as its predecessor, stung and smarted but possibly not as badly now that Samantha was ready for it.

Claire, putting all her might into each swing of the strap, felt her ponytail swinging as well and slapping her mildly in the face. She continued swinging the heavy strap, slowly and methodically, and relishing every moment. Revenge was sweet.

“Uuunn!!” Now the punishment was beginning to really hurt and Samantha couldn’t help but grunt loudly as the canvas scorched already sore parts of her bottom.

Her cry failed to influence Claire in any way, and the black haired prefect continued inflicting the punishment stroke by stroke, slowly and steadily.

“Do… do I have many more to take?” Samantha finally had to ask as the pain and soreness reached what she felt was the limit of her endurance.

“Two more,” Vicky Johannsen said softly, stepping forward and denying Claire a clear swing. “Do you want a moment?”

“No.” Samantha strained to answer.

Vicky took a step back and allowed Claire the space to continue the punishment, perhaps hoping the black haired prefect would allow Samantha a little leniency but that didn’t happen.

“Uuuuuuunnnhhh!!!” Samantha howled as another hard stroke lashed across her naked bottom and she felt herself straining against those who held her across the end of the vaulting horse.

Claire paused; even she was wondering whether she shouldn’t hold back a little on the final stroke after hearing Samantha’s yelp. She began swinging the strap with a little clemency in mind, but then temptation got the better of her and the heavy canvas belt whipped across Samantha’s naked bottom with more venom than any previous stroke.

“Yeeeeeeooouucchh!!! God, that hurts!!”

One small consolation was that those holding Samantha across the vaulting horse released their grip, stood up and moved back so she felt rather less confined. She struggled to push herself up from the leather surface and gently explore the soreness that seemed to consume her entire backside. After a few moments of cautious massage Samantha finally reached slowly down to retrieve her white panties and black leggings and pull them up.

“Now shake hands.” Vicky Johannsen spoke quietly but with a tone that brooked no argument.

Samantha shook hands silently with Judy first, and then Claire.

“Good!” Vicky had hoped for the two prefects to show a little more conciliation.

“I really am sorry for getting you both into trouble.” Samantha said sincerely to Judy and Claire.

Judy nodded. Claire just glared.

“Right! That’s the end of the matter.” Vicky declared firmly, giving both prefects a look that told them she meant it.

“What about the cold shower?” Claire persisted.

Samantha sighed. She was feeling really very sore and wasn’t really in the mood to be bundled into the showers, probably stripped, then shoved under a cold shower.

Vicky looked around. All the other girls had seen enough and were drifting away. The Head Girl gestured towards the departing group.

The End