A prefect lets the team down but there are traditional remedies in place, even when there’s a hitch. Some true elements to this story.

By Jenny Miller

It was a wretched task, but someone had to do it. At least someone should have done it, and that someone was Jill Bridgenorth. On this occasion, though, the sixth form prefect had been too wrapped up in a book she was reading and she’d simply forgotten.

“Jill! Are you awake?”

Jill looked up from her bed where she’d been lying in casual clothes of blue jeans and white T-shirt. A quick glance at her clock showed it was approaching midnight.

“Yes, I’m still awake.” She answered in a quieter tone, having due regard to her neighbours, fellow sixth form prefects, who might be asleep. She quickly smoothed her long dark brown hair so it wasn’t too untidy for these unexpected visitors.

The door opened, allowing Beth Tranter and Miss Smith into the small bed-sitting room. As soon as she saw them, Jill realised.

“Oh my God! I’ve forgotten to lock the main door!”

“Don’t worry, we’ve seen to it.” Beth Tranter said with a knowing smile on her face.

“Oh shit! Sorry.” Jill felt both foolish and uncomfortable as she gave her apology. “I was so engrossed in this book.”

“No worries.” Beth smiled even more broadly. She was a good friend of Jill’s, and Beth, the Head Girl, and Jill, a prefect, had been at the school together for over six years. Miss Smith, Rosemary or even Rosie to the prefects and Head Girl, at least in off-duty moments, had been there for only two years but had established herself as a young and likeable history and games teacher.

“Can I get back to bed now?” Rosie Smith yawned, and patted the top of Beth Tranter’s red wavy hair.

“Sorry.” Jill apologised again. “Did someone wake you up?”

“Bloody caretaker. Grossman. Gross by stature and, well, he’s a man. Sorry I had to get you up too, Beth, but it was the only way to find out who was on duty tonight.”

“No problem.” Beth smiled.

“Right. Goodnight girls.” Rosie Smith waved a hand in farewell. “And I’ll see you tomorrow in the prefects common room, Jill. Shall we say five o’clock?”

“Sounds fine.” Beth answered.

Jill grimaced. “You’re not going to put me through that, are you?” She asked Beth after Rosie Smith had left the room. “I’ve never forgotten before.”

“Traditions have to be followed, Jill.” Rosie answered with simulated sternness. “It’s an ancient deterrent for prefects who might consider avoiding getting up in the cold winter months to check the door is locked.”

“It’s June, it’s warm, and anyway even the corridors are centrally heated in this place, Beth.”

“That’s not the point. Anyway, it’ll be a bit of fun for the rest of us.”

“Gee, thanks!”

The following day after school, Jill lounged around in her room unable to settle on any given task for more than a few moments. Frequent checking of her alarm clock showed the time to be passing very slowly. After a quick shower she’d selected rather tight fitting black trousers and a white blouse, normal prefects’ uniform being required for the meeting at five o’clock. Finally, the clock showed it was five minutes to five and she headed off out of the room.

“Here she is!” A great cheer rang out from the nine or ten prefects waiting in their common room as Jill opened the door and stepped inside.

With a wry smile, Jill walked slowly towards a metal legged table that had been placed in the centre of the room. Rosie Smith sat perched on the nearest end with Beth Tranter standing next to her. The prefects all stood to the right.

“I would like to offer you my sincere apologies, Miss Smith, duty mistress, for my most disgraceful lapse last night when I forgot to check the main door was locked at the hour of eleven o’clock.” Jill turned slightly so she was facing Beth Tranter before continuing with her overly pompous, but traditional, act of contrition. “And I would like to apologise to you, Miss Tranter, Head Girl, for the trouble and inconvenience I caused you in having to perform my duties for me.” Jill then turned to address her fellow prefects. “And I would like to apologise to you, my fellow prefects, for bringing the reputation of the prefects into disrepute by my most disgraceful failing in my duty.”

As Jill continued facing the prefects, Beth Tranter called out: “We hear and accept your apology, Miss Bridgenorth. I now ask your fellow prefects to consider carefully what you have said and to deliver their verdict. Should Miss Jill Bridgenorth be forgiven her error or should there be due punishment?”

“Thrash her! Thrash her! Thrash her!” Everyone shouted excitedly, albeit with great mirth.

“Miss Jill Bridgenorth.” Beth Tranter continued. “Your fellow prefects have spoken. Please step forward and receive that to which you have been sentenced.”

Jill turned again to face and the table and took a couple of steps forward as Rosie Smith, the history and games teacher, got up off the edge of the table and moved to one side, revealing a large size twelve plimsoll, grubby white in colour, resting on the hard surface. Rosie quickly snatched it up.

With two more small steps, Jill found herself standing at the edge of the table where she immediately placed her hands on her head. Beth Tranter moved close behind her.

“I do love these old school traditions.” Beth spoke quietly as she reached round in front of Jill and fumbled for the top button of her trousers.

“Hmm.” Jill answered non-committedly as she felt the waistband of her trousers loosen when the button was undone.

“Sorry about this, but it has to be done.” Beth continued as she fiddled with the zip.

“I know.” Jill had only witnessed two such punishments in her eight months as a prefect, and much preferred being a member of the observing group.

“Sorry about this, Jill.”

“What’s up?” Jill looked down.

“I can’t get your zip down.”

“Well it went up without a problem.”

“Maybe it did, but it isn’t going down so easily is it?”

“Let me try.” Jill offered.

“Sorry, but you have to have your trousers taken down. It’s the rules.”

“Then let me see if I can get it down. Then I’ll pull it up again so you can take it down. Is that okay?” Jill was beginning to think these rituals were a bit tiresome.

“Well, okay.” Beth said doubtfully, releasing her fingers from the zip.

“Nope! I can’t move it.” Jill announced after a couple of minutes struggling.

“Let me try.” Rosie Smith stepped forward, handing Beth the slipper. “No, I can’t shift it.” The teacher announced after several more minutes effort. “Can we get them down over your hips?”

“With her womanly figure?” Beth chuckled.

Despite the Head Girl’s mirth, Rosie and Jill tried together to get the trousers down over Jill’s hips but it was impossible.

“It’s no good.” Rosie Smith announced. “The trousers are too tight to get over her hips and the zip is well and truly stuck. Perhaps if we get something to lubricate the zip with, that might do the trick.”

“That’s going to take time.” Beth said grimly.

“That’s true.” Rosie confirmed. “Sorry, Jill, there’s nothing we can do.”

“Let me have another go.” Jill tried desperately to shift the zip, but to no avail.

“Sorry, Jill.” Beth said when it became obvious nothing was going to work. “We’ll have to reconvene at eight o’clock.” The Head Girl turned to the small audience. “Fellow prefects, Miss Jill Bridgenorth is presently unable to proceed with the execution of her punishment. This meeting is postponed until eight o’clock.”

Howls of disappointment filled the room, then quickly faded as the group of prefects dispersed.

“Come along, let’s get up to your room, Jill, and see what we can do.” Rosie Smith suggested.

“I’ll go and find Mr Grossman.” Beth offered. “Perhaps he’s got some oil or something.”

When the Head Girl reached Jill’s room, Jill was lying on her bed with Rosie Smith still struggling with the zip. “Mr Grossman says this should be better than oil. Apparently it won’t make the material greasy.” Beth held up the small spray can the caretaker had given her. “We have to spray a little on a rag and then wipe it on the zip.”

“Here, put some on this.” Jill reached for a paper tissue and handed it to Beth.

“There.” Beth sprayed a little liquid from the aerosol can and handed the impregnated tissue to Rosie.

“Ah! It works!” Rosie announced as she successfully released the zip. “Try that, Jill. Work the zip up and down a few times.”

“Thank God for that.” Jill demonstrated the zip was now in good working order by continuing to slide it up and down. “Now I’ve got to wait until bloody eight o’clock to get this silly ritual over with!”

“True.” Beth answered doubtfully, casting her eyes towards Rosie Smith.

“Anyway.” Jill swung herself off her bed and went to her wardrobe. “I’m going to wear a loose pleated skirt for the eight o’clock session. This will not happen again!”

“Um.” Beth uttered.

“Um what?”

“Things happen a little differently if matters have to be taken forward to a second meeting, Jill.”

“Like how?”

“Like the others will be coming for you at eight o’clock. They take you to the common room.”


“In case the guilty party had a hand in preventing the punishment being carried out at the first meeting. I’m not saying you deliberately got your zip stuck, of course, but the fact remains you weren’t able to undergo your chastisement at the appointed time. I’m afraid the rules don’t allow for any exceptions.”

“No problem.” Jill shrugged. “They can walk with me if they want to. I’m still wearing my pleated skirt though.” Jill noticed Rosie Smith look anxiously at Beth. “What?”

“Actually, they carry you.”

“Carry me?”

“In a sheet.”

“How do you mean, in a sheet.”

“I suppose it’s on a sheet technically.” Beth explained. “You lie on a sheet and they carry you.”

“They carry me through the school to the prefects common room while I’m lying on a sheet? Like royalty in olden times, you mean?”

“Something like that.” Rosie Smith confirmed.

“Only you’re naked.” Beth added.

“Naked? You’re not serious?”

“I did check, Jill. I’m afraid Beth’s right. Matron says it was last carried out about twelve years ago.”

“Twelve years ago! Time does move on, you know.”

“At this place?”

“All right.” Jill surrendered. “I’ll be here.”

Jill took supper in the sixth form dining room, much to the excitement of the other girls who kept glancing at Jill and exchanging veiled comments with their neighbours. Afterwards, Jill went back to her room and lay on her bed to continue reading the same book that had landed her in this mess. She considered changing out of the black trousers that had added to her woes but decided against it.

Even at a quarter to eight Jill heard movement in the corridor and whispered voices as the other girls organised themselves for the ritual. The knock on the door, though, didn’t happen until her clock showed one minute to eight.

“I’m ready.” Jill called out to those behind her door.

Beth Tranter pushed the door open and stood aside for six fellow prefects to enter. Jill just had time to put her book down before she was roughly grabbed by four girls and pinned to the bed.

“The zip’s working fine now.” Angie Winters, a tall girl with red mahogany coloured hair, announced as she undid Jill’s trousers.

“We put some lubricant on it.” Jill explained as another girl, Ginny Akehurst, undid the buttons of her white blouse.

“Where’s your dressing gown?” Beth asked from the doorway, just as Jill felt her trousers being pulled down her legs.

“I thought I was supposed to be naked?” A vague hope flashed into Jill’s mind.

“You will be.” Beth confirmed the worst. “But you don’t want to walk back through the corridors stark naked too, do you?”

“In the wardrobe.”

As Beth went to the wardrobe, Jill felt Ginny’s hand pushing under her back to undo her bra strap. By the time Beth had found the dressing gown and wrapped it over her arm, Jill’s white bra was lying on her pillow.

“Pants down!” Angie Winters announced with her fingers already gripping the elasticated top of Jill’s pink panties. The defenceless girl raised her hips to assist their removal.

“Where’s the sheet?” Someone asked.

“Here.” A small blonde girl, Nicky Downs, stretched a sheet out alongside Jill on the bed and Jill felt herself being lifted up. With the sheet now underneath her, the girls lined up on either side of her bed and gripped the edges.

“One, two, and lift!” Someone called, and Jill found herself raised up again with the sheet moulding itself around her body. In moments, they were out in the corridor. During the journey down to the prefects common room it seemed as though the entire sixth form came out of their rooms to peer over the sides of the sheet and stare at Jill’s nakedness.

Soon, they arrived at their destination and Jill found herself being deposited on the floor. As she struggled to her feet, she saw Rosie Smith waiting by the metal legged table. Jill’s jaw dropped. Miss Smith was no longer holding the grubby white size twelve plimsoll. She was holding a slim pale yellow cane.

“Oh no!” Jill exclaimed.

“I’m afraid so.” Rosie Smith answered as the other girls grouped around. “Come along.” The teacher stood to one side to enable Jill to approach the table.

“How many?”

“Six.” The teacher replied as Jill fingered the rolled metal end of the table.

“Okay.” Jill turned to face the end of the table squarely and stood bolt upright, awaiting instructions.

“Bend over.”

Jill leaned down across the table, feeling the cold metal against her naked breasts, gripped the sides and rested her right cheek against the hard table top.

“Shouldn’t we go through the statements of apologies again?” Someone asked.

“No, we just want to see her get her bottom smacked.” Another girl answered.

“Yes, thrash her!” Several others added.

“Okay. Here it comes.” Rosie warned.

In moments, the cane whistled through the air and cracked across Jill’s naked bottom.

“Ouch!” She called with sincerity.

Soon, another stroke whipped across her bottom and sent a searing pain across her entire lower buttocks. This clearly was not going to be a token punishment!

The third stroke thrashed across the upper portions of Jill’s naked bottom such that it now seemed her entire backside was on fire.

The fourth stroke landed more firmly on the right buttock and the tip of the cane seemed to whip round onto Jill’s right hip, causing an even more searing pain.

“Sorry.” Rosie Smith whispered, and shuffled into a slightly different position.

Jill didn’t get a chance to reply before the cane whistled through the air again and whipped into the centre of her bottom.

“Ooch!” She exclaimed, feeling the searing pain scorching parts of her bottom that had already been struck.

Perhaps it was Jill’s imagination, but the teacher seemed to be taking longer over this, the last stroke. Even the sound of the cane swishing through the air seemed louder, as did the crack as the cane thrashed into her naked backside. For several moments, the pain was almost unbearable until slowly it began to subside into a plain sore rawness.

“The punishment has been duly administered. Miss Bridgenorth is released.”

Jill responded to Rosie Smith’s announcement by gently easing herself up from the table. By the time she stood sorely upright most of the other girls had departed, leaving just a couple still admiring the newly implanted angry red stripes that now adorned her bottom.

“Obviously we’re not bothering with completing the formalities.” Beth Tranter said as she looked after the departing stragglers.

“Huh!” Jill grunted, exploring the angry weals that criss-crossed her bottom.

“Sorry about that one that curled round, Jill.” Rosie Smith stared down at the girl’s punished bottom.

“That’s all right.” Jill answered graciously. “It does that sometimes.”

“Dressing gown?” Beth Tranter held the garment out while silently pondering how Jill happened to know about the finer points of canings.


“That’s the first caning I’ve had to administer.” Rosie watched as Jill threaded her arm into the dressing gown. “I hope I did all right.”

“Fine, thanks.” Jill murmured.

“Not bad, I suppose.” Beth grinned. “I’ve seen worse.”

“Aren’t you on door duty tonight, Beth?” Rosie asked, sharing the humour and flexing the cane. “I hope you remember to perform your duties correctly.”

Beth grimaced.

The End