She receives attention at school and at home

By Robert Roberts

The headmaster’s voice boomed loudly, attracting the attention of his senior school secretary, Helen Gibson, working in the adjoining office.

“Mrs Gibson, a word please.”

Helen Gibson arose from her desk and walked purposefully towards the open door of the headmaster’s study, taking no notice of her two young junior clerks who looked up inquiringly from their work.

“Would you close the door please, Helen?” requested the headmaster, Dominic Bowen, addressing her by her first name when not in the company of others.

“Please sit,” he said, pointing to the sofa across the room from his imposing mahogany desk. He joined her, noticeably choosing to position himself at the other end of the sofa. Maybe there was some truth in the rumours quietly circulating amongst the senior staff. Was he over-familiar with his attractive forty-year-old secretary? If he was, she was careful not to give him encouragement. She was efficient and well respected in her role of senior school secretary, and after her husband walked out on the family home she relied heavily upon her monthly pay cheque and could not afford a scandal that would probably lead to her dismissal by the school governors. They would always side with the headmaster.

“I know why you want to speak to me, headmaster,” proffered Helen. “It’s about Louise, isn’t it?”

“Indeed,” responded the headmaster. “She has been a silly girl.”

A brief silence ensued before he continued with his carefully prepared script. He was determined to do his best to minimise any possible awkwardness with his valued secretary, but could not avoid the inevitable.

“I have no option. I wish I didn’t have to do this, but truancy is a mandatory caning.”

Much to his relief, Helen Gibson’s response was understanding and supportive.

“Louise has stupidly and knowingly broken the rules. She must suffer the consequences. I came close to giving her a good spanking myself, and might still, but felt it best she be dealt with first by the school.”

“Thank you for that, Helen. I appreciate your understanding of my position in this rather unfortunate situation.”

Another silence followed.

“Of course, I would understand if you wanted to opt out of witnessing the caning of your daughter. I am ready to ask one of the teaching staff to stand in for you.”

In her capacity of school secretary, Helen Gibson was responsible for witnessing the canings administered by the headmaster, preparing the unfortunate students, offering aftercare if necessary, completing the punishment register and writing letters to inform parents.

“That won’t be necessary, headmaster,” responded Helen. “You can rest assured I will ignore the fact that Louise is my daughter and she will be put through the same routine as any other student.”

Dominic Bowen nodded, satisfied with Helen’s comment. Impressed with her demeanour, her common sense, her softly spoken cultured voice and frustrated he was not able to get to know her outside the school environment. But professionalism dictated he had to keep his relationship with her at arm’s length.

“OK. Shall we reconvene in the morning, immediately after assembly?” He concluded and reluctantly motioned Helen to return to her office.


“Mummy. Louise is crying. I went into her bedroom and told her breakfast is ready and she said she didn’t want any.”

Louise’s young sister, Molly, looked fretful. “Why is she crying. I don’t want her to cry.”

Helen gently answered her young daughter. “Don’t worry, darling. Louise has been a naughty girl and she is going to be punished at school, but she will be fine. I promise you.”

Rather annoyed that Louise was acting up, Helen called her and, showing no sympathy, shouted from the bottom of the stairs. “Louise, get down to the kitchen for your breakfast. Now!”

A minute later, Louise appeared, red-eyed, obviously in some distress and trying to hold back her tears. Her mother was not impressed and shook her head.

“You’re upsetting Molly with your childish behaviour. You’ve brought this upon yourself. You deserve to be punished and I hope you will show some maturity in the presence of the headmaster.”

“What’s going to happen to me, mum. Will you be there?”

Helen turned to her younger daughter. “Molly, go and brush your teeth, darling, and get yourself ready for school.”

Molly obediently did just that. When she was out earshot, Helen turned to Louise.

“Yes, I will be there. Your misbehaviour will be announced at morning assembly and from there you will be sent to the headmaster’s study. But you know this. You’ve seen it happen to other students. You will wait for the headmaster until he is ready to see you. It might be five minutes. It might be half an hour. Whenever, I’ll take you into his study and after he has lectured you and told you how many strokes of the cane you will receive, I will get you ready.”

Louise was not comforted by her mother’s unsympathetic description of events that would, only too soon, be overwhelming her.

“Mum. You don’t seem to care. I’m really scared,” moaned Louise.

“I don’t like to see my daughter in trouble and facing the cane, but a sharp reminder won’t do you any harm,” replied the irate mother. “And now I’ve got to drive Molly to the nursery. I’ll see you at the headmaster’s office after assembly.”

Just before leaving, Molly gave her big sister a hug, still not quite sure about all the fuss. Mother noticeably did not give Louise her usual embrace but as she went through the door she spoke.

“I’ve left a tube of sunburn cream next to your lunchbox. If you apply it after your caning it might help you get through the day.”

Tearfully, Louise got herself ready for the walk to school. Her friend Trudy walked with her, doing her best to raise her spirits but not really succeeding. Registration was the usual start to the day. Most of her sixth form colleagues realised Louise was up for a caning, preceded by that walk of shame from assembly to the headmaster’s study. It was big news. A sixth form caning was quite rare and generated a lot of interest. Louise was the focus of attention and even her form mistress, Mrs Smart, had something to say, albeit quite supportive.

“Perhaps the headmaster will deal with you leniently as this is your first time.”

“Do you think so, Miss?” interjected Sally. “I’ve heard he’s quite strict with naughty sixth formers,” which caused an outbreak of giggling amongst those girls listening, much to Louise’s embarrassment.

“That’s enough, girls,” smiled Mrs Smart. “Make your way to assembly. Quietly! Or else someone will be joining Louise,” she added unconvincingly which brought about further merriment.

Assembly was as horrible for Louise as she thought it would be. A nervous wait during prayers, hymns, a reading and then the dreaded notices. Dominic Bowen was a jovial character and was well liked by his students, but he became quite stern when the punishment notices were announced. The assembly gathering was hushed as all knew it was time for the headmaster to call out the names of offenders. Louise desperately hoped other names would be on the list but it was not to be.

“I have the unpleasant duty to call out one name and it is Louise Gibson. This young lady thinks it’s all right to take time off school whenever she feels like it, but she’s going to find out in a few minutes that she is mistaken. Please report to my study immediately Miss Gibson.”

The miserable sequence of events culminating in the headmaster’s order to attend his study. Apprehended for skipping lessons by a teacher whom she really liked and told she would be reported to the headmaster. Having to admit her wrongdoing to her mother. A sleepless night worrying over her forthcoming caning. Facing her colleagues, and now the walk of shame. There were exaggerated gasps of surprise, especially from the first and second years. A buzz as Louise picked her way from the rear of the hall through the rows of students seated in year order and past the stage where the teachers sat overlooking the students. All eyes on her as she exited the hall and into the corridor leading to the admin office and headmaster’s study.


Louise stood outside the headmaster’s study, nose pressed to the wall, hands on head. Ordered there by her mother as were all students awaiting their fate. A clear message to all who had reason to visit the admin office. A naughty girl waiting to be caned. Assembly over, the unmistakable sound of on orderly exit accompanied by ‘Morning Has Broken’ played expertly on the piano by music teacher Mrs Turnbull.

If only Louise could be joining the streams of students heading for their first lessons of the day. She should be collecting her school books from her locker and making her way to a maths lesson. But no. Here she was waiting to get her bottom whacked, God only knows how many times, and in front of her unsympathetic mother.

The wait was surprisingly short. Dominic Bowen bustled through the swing doors at the end of the corridor and made his presence felt with a cheerful, “Good morning,” to his admin staff. Louise flinched, but was surprised by the almost friendly greeting. “And a very good morning to Miss Gibson. Not quite so good in a few minutes, I suggest.”

He disappeared into his office and Helen Gibson joined him from her adjoining office.

“Right. Let’s get this matter sorted. Invite Louise in,” he affirmed.

“You usually make them wait for a few minutes to reflect, headmaster,” responded Helen.

“She’s a sixth former, Helen. Let’s cut her some slack. I’m going to give her a lenient, four stroke caning. Sharp enough to give her something to think about, but not full strength.”

“Are you going easy on her because she’s my daughter?” questioned Helen.

“Not at all,” responded Dominic, although, perhaps, there was an element of this. “She has an exemplary record.”

Helen, wanting the headmaster to know that she, as Louise’s mother, was not going to let her daughter off lightly.

“Whatever punishment you deem appropriate, I will be giving her a good spanking tonight.”

The Headmaster fleetingly paused. The thought of this attractive, fit and smart lady expending her energy to deliver a thrashing to her daughter, somehow aroused his interest. If only!

He quickly returned to the real world and repeated his order. “Bring her in. Let’s put her out of her misery.”

“The headmaster is ready for you. Follow me,” ordered Helen to her trembling daughter.

Helen opened the door and gently pushed Louise inside. Both expected the headmaster to deliver a blistering lecture that usually had the recipient in tears even before the caning started. But not today.

“You know you have behaved badly, Louise. You let yourself and your mother down. There is a price to pay. Four strokes of the cane. Helen?”

The headmaster’s mention of her name meant the time had come for the school secretary to prepare Louise for her punishment.

“Remove your blazer,” she ordered. “And place it on the sofa. It might be a good idea to loosen your tie.”

As Louise nervously complied, Dominic Bowen reached inside the cupboard, retrieved a 36-inch cane and took the red, leather bound punishment ledger from the shelf. A couple of practice swishes, mainly for the benefit of the poor girl waiting. He had already noticed Louise was wearing a tight-fitting, grey, uniform skirt that would be ideal for receiving her caning. Trousers or a tight-fitting skirt or dress were satisfactory; a looser, pleated skirt would pose a problem but not relevant today.

Not showing any compassion, Helen guided Louise to the headmaster’s desk.

“Lean forward and place your elbows on the desk.”

She observed her daughter’s efforts.

“Feet further apart. Gives you some stability. Bottom out. Look forward.”

Louise did as she was told and Helen moved around the desk to stand in front of her anxious daughter. Mr Bowen took up his position, ready to deliver the first stroke.

“Well, young lady. Time to teach you a lesson. No more truancy. Do we agree?”

“Yes Sir,” squeaked Louise, disappointed her voice was not more firm and confident.

She looked up to her mother standing in front of her, arms folded. Was there a faint smile? If so, was it a smile of support and forgiveness? Or a smile of satisfaction that her errant daughter was about to feel a world of pain? Whichever, Louise returned a weak smile before tightly closing her eyes.

She heard, for a fraction of a second, the hiss of the cane as it accelerated towards her vulnerable backside, followed by a loud crack. Her eyes opened wide as the shock kicked in. She made no sound, but silently mouthed a prolonged “Oooooh!” followed by sharp intake of breath. The instant sting reverberated throughout her bottom. But not just her bottom. As she later recalled to her friend Trudy, the pain seemed to engulf the whole of her body even down to her finger tips.

Louise shuffled uneasily but, even before she had time to settle, Dominic Bowen’s second shot was carefully and accurately delivered and, although not quite ready, she was nevertheless able to take it without a sound. She glanced at her mother who acknowledged her with a nod. Was it a nod of approval for the quiet way she was taking the punishment? Or perhaps it was a nod of approval for the punishment she was having to endure.

The third strike engendered a silent scream from the hapless girl. This was all getting rather painful, but she admitted to herself it was manageable. Her eyes were watering but she was not crying. Her mother’s spankings were less painful than this ordeal, but she always cried during those spankings. Probably to try to get her to go easy, but she never did.

Dominic Bowen took his time before administering the fourth and final stroke. Not that Louise would know, but he was striking with some leniency. Helen suspected this was the case, but was not going to comment.

‘Should I give this last one some umph?’ he thought to himself. He felt that Louise’s misdemeanour was not so serious and she was rather unlucky to have been apprehended, but he had his responsibilities. ‘Yes, let’s make this last one count. Help her to decide not to repeat the offence.’

With that, he raised the cane above his shoulder and unleashed the most ferocious stroke of the set. It brought about a stifled yelp from Louise, and she vigorously wriggled her bottom, but maintained her position over the desk, waiting to be told to stand. After a minute of enduring a rather unpleasant stinging sensation, Louise received the order.

“Up you get.” Helen had moved around the desk to Louise’s rear and, with a hand on her shoulder, gently assisted her to stand. In some discomfort and feeling rather embarrassed, Louise caressed her stinging buttocks in an attempt to bring some relief.

Her mother, having witnessed rather more austere chastisements, did not feel the need to offer too much aftercare and encouragement, and just handed Louise some tissues.

“Sign the register,” she indicated to her daughter.

The headmaster had returned his cane to the cupboard and stood, arms folded, watching his secretary efficiently attend to business. Register signed, miscreant checked to make sure she was not overly distressed, and dispatched. Job done.


Awkward silence at the dinner table. Louise was sulking. She had received the unwelcome notification from her mother that she would be getting a spanking for having let her down and embarrassing her in front of the headmaster.

Meal finished, and usually it was Louise’s task to clear the table and wash the dishes before finishing any homework. But tonight was slightly different. Helen needed to pick up Molly from her friend’s house and preferred to punish Louise out of the earshot of her younger daughter who tended to get upset at the sound of Louise’s crying and yelping.

“Go to your room. I’ll spank you now and you can come back to the kitchen and carry out your chores while I collect Molly.”

Louise had already changed from her school uniform into something more casual. Tracksuit bottoms with an elastic waistband were comfortable for lounging around the house and would be practical for a spanking. Easy to pull down and not so uncomfortable après-spanking as tight fitting jeans. With a sore bottom from this morning’s caning, she set off to her upstairs bedroom to wait for her mother, who soon arrived, brandishing a sandal with a leather sole and politely announcing her arrival with a tap on the door before entering.

Louise did not need reminding of the procedure. She climbed on to the bed and positioned herself on hands and knees and buried her face into the pillow. With her bottom nicely placed for a spanking, she suffered the ignominy of her mother pulling down her tracksuit bottoms and knickers.

Helen Gibson carefully examined the state of her daughter’s recently caned bottom and was not overly impressed.

“You were treated quite leniently by headmaster,” she said, brushing the back of her hand over the fading cane marks. “I will not be so easy-going.”

Louise sighed. She knew it was useless to argue.

“How many?” she asked.

“I think eight would be fair. Enough to make you think twice about skipping school ever again.”

For the second time that day Louise’s bottom was subjected to some robust treatment. She withstood the first four licks quietly, but the fifth whop brought about a howl anguish.

“Careful, mum. That’s too much,” she wailed.

But mum was the decision-maker when it came to dispensing punishment. Her experience guided her on the level of pain to inflict on her errant daughter and truancy was a new and serious infraction.

“Hush! You took your caning quietly this morning,” snapped Helen. “So why the histrionics now?”

“You’re supposed to love me and look after me,” the beleaguered girl appealed, but to no avail. So the next three lashes reigned down hard on poor Louise’s backside to complete a thoroughly miserable day for the girl.

“Do your crying and then get down to the kitchen and complete your chores. And I don’t want Molly to see you moaning and crying when I bring her back from her friend’s house.”

“I hate you!” raged Louise, but quickly went on the defensive when her mother raised the sandal to threaten more punishment.

“Do you want some more?”

But Helen was smiling inwardly. She had achieved what she thought was a sound and effective educational spanking. Now was the time to conclude the unpleasantness. On her return home with Molly, she would present Louise with her favourite chocolate ice cream and all would be forgiven.

The End

© Robert Roberts 2022