A girl has confused feelings about a former teacher and gets help to plot his downfall

By Frances Stephenson

Julia Stannard started to clear her desk at 7.30 in the evening. It had been a busy week and she carefully sifted through her papers putting aside some of her more urgent work which she would take home with her and polish them up at the weekend, and also start to prepare herself for the next week which was shaping up to be a busy one.

Julia was a Senior Director at a well known Investment Bank. As a highly qualified graduate she had then become a PhD in Economics specialising in the rarefied and complex world of financial derivatives. She now had a successful team working for her and her own formidable work ethic had ensured that she was extremely well rewarded.

She was tall and graceful with a stunning figure, great legs and a sensational bottom. There was no regular boyfriend, which people found extraordinary in view of the fact, her figure aside, she was a very pretty girl. She, herself, freely acknowledged that her driving ambition and long working hours probably put off most men.

There were other reasons, however, very private reasons which she would not divulge to anyone. She thought about her School life and how she had been regularly thrashed by Mr Masters whilst in her final year at School. He had demanded weekly assessments from all of her teachers and any evidence of slackness or inattention was dealt with by him at their weekly Friday afternoon sessions. He greatly enjoyed thrashing Julia’s fabulous bottom and looked forward to Friday afternoons.

For her part Julia was determined to give him no excuse to increase the number of strokes of the cane that he would mete out. As it was, she used to have to submit to a ‘token’ caning of three strokes which he used to tell her, and indeed the Headmistress, was to keep her up to scratch.

In reality these three strokes were delivered with much venom and caused her to break her required stance and earn herself additional strokes. Sometimes these token canings of three strokes turned into six strokes and sometimes even more and were interspersed with hard spankings in punishment of faults which he had identified, or, at least said he had identified.

Her bottom was rarely free of the marks left by his canings with one set of bruises being replenished by a fresh set on a Friday afternoon. Her only way to minimise the regular pain was to make sure that she always did her school work to the very best of her ability and was bright and attentive in every class, knowing that an bad or indifferent report to Mr Masters would result in an even harder thrashing.

She was eventually rewarded by achieving high marks in her exams and was readily accepted into Cambridge to read Economics and Mathematics. Again she worked hard and was rewarded with a Double First in her chosen subjects. A Doctorate in Financial economics had followed and by this time well known Merchant and Investment Banks were queuing up to offer her lucrative positions within their organisations. She had accepted one offer from a well known company and had never looked back.

She now owned a luxurious mews house, an expensive motor car and the opportunity to travel and have top of the range holidays several times a year. She was now 27 and still single. She allowed herself to be picked up and have brief physical affairs every so often, but her emotions she resolutely kept in cold storage; that could come later. Her constant thrashings by Mr Masters had, however, left a lasting legacy and that was her desire to be punished.

At first she did not know how to satisfy these urgings, being reluctant to let any boyfriend into her private world. The answer to this conundrum came about by coincidence.

She reflected on the last eighteen months of her life and how she came to meet Marion. Her mobile phone’s battery had run out and she needed to make one brief call. She made her way to the run-down phone box at the end of the Mews where she lived. By great good chance the phone was working and she completed her call. She was about to leave when her attention was taken up by many different coloured cards advertising a variety of ‘services’ provided by young ladies She had no interest in these but one plain card caught her eye. The card highlighted the correctional services offered by a discreet young lady.

Her interest aroused, Julia removed the card intending that she should read it closely in the privacy of her own home. She re-read the card on returning home.

‘Correctional Services were provided using a number of different implements in a number of different scenarios’.

She was aware of a quickening of interest. There could be no harm, could there? It would be a brief commercial transaction and the only after effect would be that she would have a sore bottom. She felt her heart leap at the thought. She resolved to give it a try and telephoned the number. A pleasant sounding voice asked her what type of punishment service she required.

She replied: “A good bare bottom caning of about six strokes but not more than eight.”

“Yes, I can do that,” said a quiet and pleasant sounding voice. “Do you want to come around now?”

Julia replied in the affirmative and the voice gave her an address and said that she would be expected in 15 minutes. Julia was surprised to learn that the address was no more than 400 metres from where she lived. Conscious that her heart was beating faster and that she was rather afraid, she made her way to the indicated address and rang the door bell.

A quite attractive dark-headed girl in her early thirties welcomed Julia. She did not look a bit like Julia was expecting, unmade up and quietly pleasant.

“Please come in,” she said. “You are here for a caning, are you?”

“Yes,” faltered Julia.

“It is a very long time since I caned a young lady as pretty as you and with such a lovely figure,” she said, whilst staring at Julia’s stunning bottom. “Is this the first time you have been to someone like me?”

“Yes it is,” responded Julia.

“The last time you were caned, was it at school?”

“Yes it was,” replied Julia.

“By the way, please call me Marion,” said the dark haired woman.

Julia readily responded by giving her name; she was much taken by Marion, her unmade up face registering friendly interest. She moved gracefully but with economy, her whole persona indicating a quietly efficient and sympathetic woman. Julia felt she could let this woman into her private world and thought that she could give a bit of background.

“I was constantly caned by a nasty schoolmaster who made my life a misery, for nearly a year,” she ventured.

“Oh you poor thing, but you have certainly come to the right person. I can help you out, not only by caning you but making the canings in to a sort of cathartic cure. It will be painful but I am confident that, after a time, your past experiences will no longer trouble you.”

“You sound like a psychiatrist,” said Julia.

“I did receive training as part of my postgraduate studies,” admitted the girl.

Julia continued to be much taken by the girl’s soft voice and by her general manner and made an unplanned decision. “A hard caning will entail a fair amount of noise. I live in a spacious mews flat which has a garage beneath it. The previous owners were part of a rock band and they used to practice in it. My point is that it has been sound-proofed and I gather that it was pretty effective. You could cane me in there.”

There was a pause. “In principal, I agree,” said Marion. “But a lot depends where your house is situated.”

Julia told her and Marion laughed softly. “We can be there in five minutes,” she said. “Can I park outside?”

Having received an answer in the affirmative she suggested that she gave Julia a lift. “I have finished for the night,” she said. “Just let me collect some canes and lock up and we can be off.”

Marion disappeared for a while and reappeared carrying an old golf bag; it was not difficult to imagine what the golf bag held!

In a very few minutes, Julia was opening her own front door. She showed Marion her sound-proofed Music Room on the ground floor and Marion nodded in approval.

“Nice and spacious and quite warm.” She observed “Plenty of room to swing my cane!”

She left her golf bag in the corner. Julia could not help but shudder. They went upstairs to the drawing room and Julia gave Marion a fruit juice.

“I never drink when I am working,” Marion informed Julia, who is almost visibly shaking with apprehension. “I intend to cane you following your requirement of not more than eight strokes,” she said pleasantly. “There is no point in caning you softly. Each stroke will be delivered at measured intervals and I will deliver them quite hard. I am experienced and you will certainly feel each stroke.

“I will make you squeal, but try and accept the punishment. It is, after all, what you are here for! I assume you called your school caner ‘Sir’ and therefore I think we should inject an element of formality when you are in the ‘punishment scene’; therefore please address me as Ma’am.”

Julia was too nervous to respond to these comments and could only manage stilted replies. Marion read these signals and told Julia to remove her trousers, which she shrinkingly did, revealing pretty and thin pale green bikini briefs and white calf length socks. The close-fitting knickers revealed Julia’s beautiful and enticing bottom. Marion looked pleased; Julia’s bottom looked every bit as stunning as she thought it would. The caning was going to be a real pleasure!

“We will make a move now. Julia, please lead the way.” Instructed Marion.

“Yes, Ma’am, please come this way,” said Julia, and she lead the way downstairs to her music room.

Marion went over to her golf bag and extracted a wicked looking dark yellow rattan, quite firm but with plenty of ‘give’ in it. She proceeded to swish it a few times noting the look of mounting dread on Julia’s pretty features.

“I want to replicate your school experiences as closely as possible,” said Marion. “Tell me about the positions he required you to adopt.”

“Well, Ma’am, the sessions were split into two parts; during the first I was required to touch my toes and receive six strokes with the intermediate cane. If I broke stance a further stroke was added and the previous count was cancelled. I had to count the strokes out loud. The second part was carried out using a more painful senior cane and I was made to bend over a desk or a chair. Again penalty strokes were added, taking me to the very brink of what I could bear.”

“Well Julia,” said Marion. “I think we can proceed roughly along those lines; I want you to have a hot and sore bottom, so let’s get started. Bend over and touch your toes.”

Marion was pleased that Julia was able to do this with no problems. She kept herself in trim and her perfect young body was obviously very supple. Like Mr Masters before her, Marion paused to admire the lovely sweeping lines and the taut muscles of Julia’s legs. Her bottom, lovely and round, was offered invitingly encased in brief sexy pale green knickers. Two bulges of white bottom showed provocatively below each leg and made an irresistible target.

Marion swished her cane and was pleased to see that Julia’s bottom twitched in response; she was certainly wound up!

The first stroke landed about an inch below the apex. It was a good wristy cut and made Julia gasp loudly.

“One, thank you Ma’am,” she managed to gasp.

The second landed about an inch below the first and was about the same strength as the first; it made Julia squeal and move her hips in an urgent fashion.

“Two, thank you Ma’am,” she gasped with a slight break in her voice.

‘This really hurts,’ she thought. ‘I must hold position I really must.’

Number three was across the inviting bulges of pale flesh. Marion made the rattan really hum and the resultant weal was really very painful. Julia squealed loudly and her hands left the toes of her shoes to clutch at her well welted bottom, it took her sometime to settle and utter the words: “Three, thank you Ma’am.”

“No, I am afraid not Julia,” instructed the strict Marion. “You know the rules, if you do not maintain your position the stroke does not count and is repeated. You are lucky not to have a penalty stroke added.”

With that she gave Julia another quite hard wristy stroke which landed in Julia’s sensitive crease and caused her to cry out in pain and distress. “Th, three, thank you Ma’am,” she managed to utter.

Although her next squeal was more heartfelt, the stroke landed away from the sensitive area of Julia’s lower bottom. “Four, thank you Ma’am,” she managed to say.

The strokes were more painful than Julia remembered receiving from Mr Masters and her soft bottom throbbed with pain. Her delicate bottom would be sharply ridged and there were more strokes to come!

“That is half way through, Julia,” said Marion. “As you know, we don’t count missed strokes or penalties.”

“Yes Ma’am,” responded Julia.

“I want your knickers removed for the last part of your thrashing. You will have the support of a chair. You will need it as the next four will be harder. Needless to say, if you do not hold your position the stroke will be repeated. I do not propose to introduce penalties, but make no mistake I could and you would have to take them. Do I make myself quite clear?”

“Yes Ma’am, indeed you do,” faltered Julia.

“Right, knickers off and bend over that chair.” Marion indicated a hip-high library chair.

Julia immediately removed her knickers and lowered herself into the chair, making her round and naked bottom as prominent as she could.

“Tighter, Julia,” instructed Marion. “Hollow your back a bit more and hold on tight.”

The next stroke , as promised, was harder than the previous four (or five!) and again Julia uttered a sharp cry, but she did not move.

“Five, thank you Ma’am.”

‘Only three to go, please let me hold my position, please, please.’

Marion was deeply appreciative of the superb sight on front of her. Julia’s fabulous bottom was prettily presented and was now decorated with six angry looking stripes, each turning darker by the moment. Marion was pleased with the accurate spacing and, indeed, with the severity of the strokes.

Another stroke landed and again Julia squealed, her bottom making urgent movements in its efforts to cope with the pain. “Six, thank you Ma’am,” she managed.

Number seven was, perhaps, harder and Julia uttered a gulping squeal and her hands left the required position and moved towards her bottom.

“Julia,” rasped Marion. “If I were applying strict rules, that would earn you a repeat. As it is, you can expect the next stroke to be more severe.”

“Yes Ma’am, and thank you Ma’am,” a distressed Julia managed to utter. “That was number seven, thank you, Ma’am.”

As she promised, Marion delivered the eighth stroke just under the apex of Julia’s bottom. There was certainly much more bite to it and, predictably, Julia howled in her distress, but she still had control, but only just.

“You can get up now,” Marion softly instructed the girl.

Julia prised herself free of the position she had been forced to adopt and somewhat shakily rose to her feet. She twisted and turned in an effort to dissipate the searing pain in her bottom.

She gently cradled her cheeks in an effort to relieve the pain.

“I think we should return to the drawing room,” said Marion softly.

Julia led the way and Marion enjoyed the show as Julia’s naked and well thrashed bottom went first.

“I am just going to freshen up and wash my hands,” said Marion. “Just stay as you are.”

In a few moments Marion returned and settled herself in the middle of a comfortable sofa. She brought a small MP3 player out of her handbag and switched it on. A gentle and relaxing piece of classical music filled the room.

“Julia,” called out Marion. “I have some Arnica ointment here which is very soothing to well-caned bottoms; please come here and I will apply some.”

Julia moved over and lay across the waiting lap, her sore looking bottom conveniently placed for Marion to apply the curative cream. Marion began to gently work the Arnica cream onto Julia’s painful looking bottom. A piano recital provided a soothing backdrop to Marion’s not very demanding ministrations. After about half an hour Julia began moaning softly and making small noises of pleasure. There could be no doubt that Julia was becoming sexually aroused.

‘Not all that surprising,’ thought Marion. ‘A combination of her thrashing and my own activities with the cream has activated her sexual responsiveness.’

After a short while this activity increased rather than subsided.

“Please Marion,” said Julia, a trifle huskily. “I think I would like to go to my room now. I am sure I will soon be fast asleep.”

“Certainly,” said Marion. “I will let myself out. I will leave my private number on the table. Please be in touch soon.”

Julia did not awaken until a good eleven hours later. She stretched luxuriously, aware that her body had found a new peace and that even her skin felt different. Good, but still different. She was, of course, aware of a deep aching and sharp pain in her bottom. She got out of bed and examined herself in a full-length mirror. The sight of her well caned bottom brought the events of yesterday evening sharply into focus as she tentatively traced the sore stripes. A reflective look came into her eyes and an odd little smile crept into her face.

She showered and made a cup of tea before ringing Marion on her private number. The well-remembered soft voice asked her how she slept.

“The best night I have had for years,” she retorted happily.

“Good,” said Marion. “You have taken the first steps on the path to a complete cure.”

All this happened eighteen months ago and Julia had been drawn into Marion’s persuasive world. True, she was regularly spanked and caned, sometimes quite hard, but she was happy to leave these arrangements to Marion.

Marion had also thought about Julia’s Pavlovian reaction to the time of 4pm on a Friday afternoon. For years, her thoughts had turned to the dreaded Mr Masters at this time as it was then that she had to report to him for her weekly thrashing.

Marion had got over this hurdle by sending her a text at 3.55 ordering her to a meeting that evening. There was to be no doubt what the meeting would entail. Julia’s bottom would be suitably dealt with that evening! In no time the image of the strict Marion had replaced that of Mr Masters. Another box ticked!

Some weeks later, Julia made her way back to her luxurious mews home. She wondered what was in store. Marion, her mentor, had recently changed her ‘management’ of her punishment regime.

Although sometimes very painful, these sessions had become fewer and fewer. Marion had introduced an American spanking paddle and, whilst it did not produce painful cane welts that could, and sometimes did, last for over a week, it delivered a sharp pain over a wide area. Julia was often whimpering after a few well delivered strokes.

The other method favoured by Marion was a good old-fashioned hand spanking. Marion could, again, deliver a hard spanking that would make Julia squeal but she supposed that punishment via these two methods was preferable to the cane. The current regime had been in place for a few weeks and Julia had almost forgotten what a ‘Monday Bottom’ felt like. A ‘Monday Bottom’ was often endured by Julia and she had named it because the sharp pain left by a Friday caning had largely disappeared, leaving only the bruising to work itself out. Monday morning used to be the day when, although still quite painful, her bottom was well into recovery mode.

Marion greeted her. “You are looking good, Julia,” she said. “That slightly haunted look has disappeared and I think we can move on to the set piece of your rehabilitation and, if handled well and executed with resolution, your dark days will be behind you.”

Julia leaned forward and listened intently.

“The plan involves you and Mr Masters. The second component will be provided by my good friend Donna Eagle who is a genius with cameras and associated equipment. The Plan will involve you, Julia, going to Mr Evan’s house and requesting further discipline. I am sure he will be only too delighted to comply. You will then place your handbag, in which a camera will be concealed, in a strategic place in the room where you will be caned. You will then activate the camera, which will be set up by Donna, and this will record the sight and sound of you being caned. Armed with this information, we will have Mr Masters under our control.”

“What an amazing idea,” exclaimed Julia. “I hope my bottom will be up to it!”

“It will be up to you to lead him into believing that you will want him to deal with you regularly, and therefore the caning should not be excessive but hard enough to encourage you to return, and him to want you to.”

“Did you think this up, Marion?” Asked Julia.

“I read a recently published book where the undersized, but feisty, young heroine is subjected to some nasty sexual abuse by her Guardian. The girl sets up a camera in her bag and goes to see the Guardian again, expecting to be abused again. However this time it is much more violent. Fortunately, it is all recorded on film and she then has her Guardian in her power. I hope to have a great sight and sound record of you being caned, hopefully with Mr Masters in full view.”

“I think it a perfectly splendid plan,” exclaimed Julia. “True, I will end up with a pretty sore bottom, but the sacrifice will be worth it. Just think, it would leave Mr Bloody Masters in our power.”

Marion was of the opinion that they should have a perfectly timed rehearsal, and then if they were ready Julia would then make the phone call to Mr Masters and they would lave a full dress rehearsal.

“Julia, please buy yourself some thin plain white over the knee socks and some plain white knickers, a size too small, I think! A waist-length white blouse and a navy micro mini gym skirt. You should look positively edible in that outfit. Practice bending over slightly and showing your knickers.

“We want Mr Masters’ attention to be firmly focussed on your bottom while you start the camera. It will be up to you to encourage him to cane your bottom much as he used to do when you were at school. You will have to tread a fine line between being scared and reluctant and wanting the caning and what is more, wanting a repeat dose. You will be in for a pretty sore bottom, I am afraid, but it will not be the first time and I am sure you will be able to cope!

“When the caning is over, collect your coat and handbag and make your way, looking penitent and rather distressed. Tell Mr Masters that you will phone him. You could rub your bottom at the same time! Go to your car and join us at a house that we will hire and we can have a full de brief. Donna will then examine the record, we hope, of your caning.

“Well, Julia, do you think you are up to giving this a go?”

“Yes, Marion, I rather think I would like to and I think my poor bottom will be up to it.”

“Today is Tuesday,” mused Marion. “I have arranged to hire a house which is no more than 5 miles from Mr Masters’. I don’t want you, Julia, to have a longer journey to cope with, but don’t worry, Darling, we will be there to support you, armed with plenty of Arnica!

“Now, Julia, I have Masters’ phone number which I got from your old school. I think you should give him a ring now and try for an appointment on Friday.”

Julia agreed and moved towards the phone whilst mentally rehearsing her forthcoming conversation with her old schoolmaster. She picked up the telephone and dialled the number Marion has given her. The phone was ringing! She felt so nervous and felt faintly queasy as well as trembling. What made her want to do this?

She was about to hang up when a cold voice answered: “Hugh Masters.”

Her heart was pounding and her mouth dry she could barely form the words.

“Hello, Mr Masters. Julia Stannard here. I wonder whether you remember me but I was in the sixth form at St Mary’s about 8 years ago.”

He remembered immediately. He had caned Julia regularly and clearly remembered her beautiful bottom and the heartfelt squeals of pain when he administered caning after caning to that delectable bottom.

“Yes, I do indeed remember you, Julia,” he said in those dry tones she remembered so well. “I hope you have been behaving yourself.”

Julia was feeling a bit more relaxed now and tentatively stroked her bottom.

“In actual fact, I have been rather naughty at work and, although I bitterly regretted doing so, I have recently twice lied to my employers and my work has been rather sub-standard.”

“I see,” said Mr Masters. “I thought I thrashed your habit of lying out of you all those years ago, but it seems I did not try hard enough. You have presumably phoned me to arrange some meeting whereby your habit of lying and slackness can be re-addressed.”

“Yes, Sir,” she quackingly responded. “Please give me your address and I will arrange to visit you at a mutually convenient time, hopefully this Friday evening, so that you can discuss my lapse with you. I am prepared to be punished by you and I must ask, do you still have your canes?”

“Indeed I do, Julia” he responded. “They are, however, in need of exercise, please remember that.”

He put down the phone in a state of rising excitement. He had quite thought that he would never be in a position of punishing young Julia again and yet here she was and requesting more of the same. He fell into pleasurable thoughts.

She got out of the warmly comforting familiarity of her Mercedes and walked towards the dark green front door. Mr Masters was waiting for her.

“Good evening, Julia.” He greeted her with the cold implacable smile that was a familiar part of the punishment regime. “Come through to my study,” he ordered.

She entered a pleasant enough room but was in no mood to appreciate the niceties. There was an open area in front of his desk which would probably be the operational area. She noted that two canes were ready and waiting on his desk. She looked around in some agitation but was pleased to note an empty table opposite but some way back from the desk. Perfect for the camera!

She removed her coat and placed it on the table with her handbag to one side. She could sense Mr Masters’ interest in her with her lovely legs, white socks and tiny navy skirt. Mindful of Marion’s instructions, she bent a little to show a glimpse of her pretty bottom. A glance behind her showed Mr Masters riveted by this alluring show. She spent a moment longer ling up the camera before turning and standing in front of him. “You wanted to see me to discuss my conduct, sir,” she said nervously.

He thought she looked stunning. A tall leggy beauty standing penitently before him wearing a short navy blue gym skirt, white cotton ‘over the knee socks’ and flat black shoes and simple white open-necked short sleeved blouse completed the ensemble. He could tell by the seductive sway of her hips that she was supple and kept herself fit. There was a decidedly apprehensive expression on her face as she waited anxiously for the next move along a pain filled pathway.

“Right, Julia, we first have to address this habit of lying which I had thought I had thrashed out of you.”

“Yes sir,” she responded. “Perhaps I should visit you regularly to make sure I have learnt the lesson thoroughly this time. Perhaps you would give me a similar lesson as when I was at school and perhaps move onto a a stricter regime as the weeks pass.”

Hugh Masters could hardly believe his ears. Could this stunning young beauty really be willing to return for punishment week after week?

He would have to amend his original plan and not give her the thrashing of her life this time around. He did not want to risk putting her off! She herself had suggested a session not unlike the ones she had received at school. Yes, he could do that, and with great pleasure as well.

“Julia, come here and let’s see if I can thrash some sense into that bottom of yours. Stand here and bend over and touch your toes.”

‘Beautiful,’ he thought. Julia really looked delectable in this pose, her tightly knickered bottom offering meekly for what was to come. Two splendid bulges of white bottom showing beneath the knicker legs, the icing on the cake!

He measured the cane against her bottom and proceeded to deliver the first wristy stroke to the centre.

“One, thank you, sir,” she said in a clear voice. The second was about an inch lower. He heard a sharp intake of breath. “Two, thank you, sir,” she said. He resolved to make the third a harder stroke and aimed for the succulent bulges of white bottom. Sure enough the cane almost hummed though the air and landed on the selected target. Julia squealed loudly and her hands reached back to soothe her punished bottom.

“Three, thank you, sir,” she managed to utter.

“No, Julia, I fear not,” he said. “You did not hold position and so the stroke is repeated and a penalty added.”

The session progressed along these lines with Julia’s pretty bottom becoming progressively more striped and painful looking. Mr Masters told her to remove her knickers and then to bend tightly over a chair whilst he then continued to thrash her lovely bottom with the more punishing senior cane.

Julia is becoming more vocal and her squeals are more heartfelt.

“Just three to go, Julia,” he said jovially. He was thoroughly enjoying himself as he delivered the last three with great accuracy. Each one was good and hard as he wanted this beauty to remember this session.

Julia gently prised herself from her position and contemplated her throbbing bottom. Tears were running down her face as she stood, shrinkingly, before him.

“Thank you for my hiding, Sir,” she said. “I will try and do better and have less to confess to you when we next meet.”

She then gathered he knickers and stuffed them in the hand bag, put on her coat and turned to leave.

“Good night, Sir,” she said and left his house, hopefully for the last time.

It is heaven to be in her Merc, the Satnav guiding her to the rented house. She is given a huge welcome by Marion and Donna who proceed to make a great fuss of her. After a half hour and two gin and tonics Julia is feeling more the thing. She is across Marion’s lap with arnica being applied to her well caned bottom. Donna was horrified at the damage but was somewhat reassured by Marion saying that it was not as bad as some of the hidings she, herself had given Julia.

Donna disappeared to check on the camera. She returned in about a quarter if an hour. “Absolutely tremendous,” she said. “Very clear images of Julia being caned on her bare bottom and Mr Masters caning her with a demonic and lustful smile on his face. He is clearly enjoying himself immensely. The sound is really good as well, so you can hear the swishing of the cane and dear Julia’s squeals which really tug at the heartstrings. I will have several DVD’s made up just as soon as we return to London.”

Marion continued with the main theme.

“I have made enquiries at his local council and they are always in need of workers who will undertake menial and distasteful jobs. Mr Masters will volunteer to clean and to keep clean the lavatories of all the schools within a 30 mile radius. He will deduct his expenses but the balance of his earnings will be donated to a Children’s charity. He will be expected to record his activities on a social networking page which I will set up for him and let him know that we will be keeping an eye on him. Another bit of news is that another pupil who was regularly caned by him, named Trish Andrew, is keen to do all she can to help and she is a freelance photographer and will post images of him at work.

Julia claps her hands in glee. “I remember Trish. That’s great and what a splendid result,” she said. “He made so many lives a misery, it is just so fitting that he should now spend a proportion of his time cleaning smelly lavatories.”

Marion stated that she would relay the Good News to Mr Masters. She did so and reported that although he started off by swearing to get even with Julia, he realised that he was being spared local and national exposure of his long time sadistic practices which would certainly finish him locally and lead him into resigning from all his clubs and societies. He would just get on and do whatever these wretched women demanded of him.

Over the next few months, Julia became a changed person; softer and less demanding. Marion had worked her magic well and Julia no longer felt the need to be regularly punished. Her eyes were clear and sparking and there was a spring in her step.

She did, however, see Marion from time to time as the two had become firm friends. There was another gratifying change. Julia had acquired a boyfriend, so her cure was completed.

Some months later, Julia received a letter from Trish enclosing a newspaper cutting. It stated that: ‘A highly-regarded ex-schoolmaster had selflessly devoted his time into cleaning toilets of all the schools in the area. It was further understood,’ stated the article: ‘That the schoolmaster in question regularly donates a sum of money to a children’s charity.’ The article ended by stating: ‘Surely some form of decoration should be considered for this selfless man.’

Julia had a lively sense of the ironic and it was sometime before she could suppress the laughter which sprang up so readily.

The End

© Frances Stephenson 2013