Being sent out of class means even more trouble for two girls.
We’re at school with that terrible twosome, Laura & Karen; sixth formers in trouble again. We join the pair as they lounge against the wall outside the classroom, having been sent out for talking and giggling. Suddenly at the end of the corridor appeared the figure of Mrs Roberts, the deputy head.
“Hey, look out,” said Laura, nudging Karen as she spotted the figure striding towards them.
“Now we’re for it,” muttered Karen, as both girls stood up straight.
“What are you two doing?” Mrs Roberts asked as she reached the pair.
Both girls looked at one another, shifting uneasily as they stood there. Karen was the first to speak.
“We’ve been sent out of class.”
Mrs Roberts stared intently at the two girls, turning them to stone.
“In that case, as you have nothing better to do you’d better go and stand outside my office.”
“What now?” blurted out Laura.
“Yes now, not next week, you stupid girl,” snapped Mrs Roberts.
Laura felt about two inches tall. Mrs Roberts had a way of making girls feel small. She strode off, leaving the girls to make their way to her office.
“You know what this means, don’t you?” said Laura gloomily as they started the long trek to Mrs Roberts’s office.
“Don’t remind me,” replied Karen. “I think we’re going to be putting our hands under the cold tap.”
Laura gave a nervous giggle.
Both girls had been to Mrs Roberts’s office before and had received one stroke of the cane each.
“How many d’you think we’ll get?” Asked Karen as they neared the office.
Laura shrugged her shoulders. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
“Won’t be that many, surely. It’s hardly the crime of the century, getting sent out,” said Karen hopefully.
“S’pose your right,” replied Laura. “My guess is two.”
“No more, surely?” Added Karen.
“Just have to wait and see,” said Laura with a sigh. “I suppose we asked for it.”
“You’d think we’d learn, wouldn’t you?” Said Karen wistfully.
“We should, but then that’s us, isn’t it?” Said Laura ruefully.
After what seemed an age, always the same when you’re waiting for the cane, Mrs Roberts appeared. She opened her office door and ushered the girls in. They stood in front of her desk as she sat down.
“Now then, you know my views on girls being sent out of class, don’t you?”
“Yes Miss,” the girls replied.
It was well known around the school that if you got caught outside the classroom you got the cane.
“In that case, you know what happens next,” said Mrs Roberts, rising from her chair and walking over to a wooden cabinet on the wall.
She opened the doors to reveal four canes hanging up. These canes were well known throughout the school as Mrs Roberts always referred to them by numbers. Number One was the thinnest and most feared by all the girls, as it seemed to sting the most. The numbers then went up to four and the canes got thicker. Mrs Roberts would stand in front of the cabinet and think out loud about which one to use and today was no exception. Karen and Laura stood with sweating hands and hearts pumping as they waited for the decision.
“I think its number three for you two,” announced Mrs Roberts, taking the appropriate instrument from its hook.
The two girls breathed a sigh of relief, although they still knew that it was going to hurt.
“Karen Edwards, come here,” came the sharp voice of Mrs Roberts.
Karen took a deep breath, turned round and walked over to where Mrs Roberts was standing, cane in hand. She gulped as she took one look at it. Meanwhile, Laura was still standing and listening, thinking: ‘I wish it was me going first’.
“Hold out your hand,” she ordered, bending the cane between her hands.
Karen produced her right hand.
“Are you right or left handed?”
“Right handed,” replied Karen.
“Then hold out your other hand.”
Karen changed hands and Mrs Roberts pushed it into position with her cane. Karen tensed herself as Mrs Roberts raised the cane and brought it down with a whoosh and then a dull thwack as it connected with her hand. Karen screwed up her face as she fought against the pain that seared through her hand. The cane was raised again and came down on the end of her fingers.
“Aaaaggghh,” she gasped, snatching her hand away and thrusting it under her armpit.
“I hope that will teach you not to waste time loitering outside classrooms,” said Mrs Roberts. “Now get out!”
Karen needed no encouragement to carry out that order and made a speedy exit from the room with her hand still under her armpit.
“Laura Barry, come here.”
Laura turned and walked over to Mrs Roberts.
“Hand out,” she snapped.
Laura produced her left hand which Mrs Roberts took to mean that she too was right handed. She pushed Laura’s hand into position and raised the cane. Down it came with the same sound as with Karen.
“Ooooww,” gasped Laura as the cane fell across her fingers, always more painful than on the palms. She threw her head back and took a deep breath and then waited for the next stroke. Down it came almost on exactly the same spot as before.
“Ooouuuch,” yelped Laura, like Karen snatching her hand away but this time bending nearly double and putting both hands between her legs.
“Now get out,” ordered Mrs Roberts.
Laura made as quick an exit as Karen, who she found waiting outside the door.
“Shit, that hurt,” gasped Laura, wringing her hand vigorously.
“You’re telling me, right across my bloody fingertips, the cow,” groaned Karen.
“Look at that,” said Laura, producing her hand which already was starting to show two red lines almost on top of one another.
Karen opened her hand and looked at it.
“Come on, let’s run them under the cold tap,” suggested Laura.
“Good idea,” retorted Karen and the pair rushed off to the washroom.
After several minutes under the tap, the pair dried their still throbbing hands and made their way back to class. Karen looked at her watch.
“Crikey, we’re ten minutes late for our next lesson.”
“So what, we’ve got a good excuse,” retorted Laura.
“S’pose so,” agreed Karen as they reached the classroom door.
The pair went in and were greeted by a glare from Miss Briggs.
“Just where do you think you’ve been?” She demanded, turning from writing on the board.
“Been to see Mrs Roberts,” said Laura cheerfully.
“What for?” asked Miss Briggs.
Both girls fell silent, they hadn’t expected an inquest.
“Well?” Snapped Miss Briggs, who was not noted for her patience.
“We got sent out of the previous lesson,” confessed Karen.
“Misbehaving again, I suppose,” said Miss Briggs.
Both girls’ eyes looked at the floor.
“Yes Miss,” muttered Karen.
“You know what happens to girls who are late for class, don’t you?”
Of course, all the class knew what happened.
“But it wasn’t our fault, she kept us waiting for ages,” said Laura.
“Of course it was your fault. You shouldn’t have been sent out of class in the first place,” snapped Miss Briggs. “I’m not prepared to accept any excuses.”
She then went to her desk and took a white plimsoll from one of the drawers. Karen and Laura looked at one another and then at the class. Several girls were grinning at their misfortune, others were no doubt looking forward to the prospect of a bottom warming.
“Come here, Laura,” sighed Miss Briggs.
Laura went over to Miss Briggs.
“I dread to think how many times I’ve told you to bend over.”
“This isn’t fair,” groaned Laura.
“Shut up and bend over, I’ve had enough of you two already,” snapped Miss Briggs, taking Laura by the arm and pulling her into position with her back to the class. Still holding the slipper in the other hand, she pushed Laura down where she took up the customary position, holding her ankles. Miss Briggs stepped back and took aim; she was not the hardest of slipperers, but could still make it count.
The slipper landed on Laura’s left cheek, bringing up the bottom of her skirt.
This time it fell on Laura’s right cheek. No sound from Laura as it was considered bad form to cry out in front of the class.
‘How many am I going to get?’ She thought.
This one right across the middle of Laura’s bottom. She jerked forward, just managing to keep her balance.
“Get up,” snapped Miss Briggs, letting her slippering arm drop by her side.
Laura ruefully got up and faced Miss Briggs, who stared at her intently.
“Get to your desk,” she snapped.
Laura, with a face as red as her bottom through embarrassment, made her way to her desk, rubbing her bottom. There were several sniggers from the class as she did so. Miss Briggs glared at the class.
“Any more of that and you’ll join them,” she snapped.
“Karen, come here.”
Karen, who had been standing and watching and feeling each of her friends whacks stepped forward to take her own punishment. Miss Briggs quickly pulled Karen into position.
“Bend over,” she ordered.
These two words always struck fear into any girl’s heart and Karen and Laura were no exception. Karen bent over, feeling highly embarrassed as most girls did when they got it showing their bottom to the class. At least this time their knickers weren’t on show as sometimes happened.
Karen took her three much the same as Laura and returned to her desk, highly aggrieved, as was Laura, at getting what they thought was a totally unfair punishment. At the end of the lesson there was the usual barrage of questions as to how many they got, did it hurt etc. For Laura and Karen it was a day they would rather forget.
© Lisamum 2015