Jane Fairweather’s Summoned for Discipline has just been published by Stormy Nights Publications. This is Jane’s third book of stories from Stormy Nights, the others being Sixth Form Discipline and Visits to the Headmistress. Blushing Books also publish An English Spanking Anthology.

The stories in Summoned for Discipline range over an ambitiously wide range of themes, from America thirty years after the Civil War to the rather dismal England of the 1950’s by way of several stories set against the background of the First World War, to an American school on the eve of Pearl Harbour. In the process a wide range of characters and situations are explored; but invariably an older girl, who might expect herself to be too old for corporal punishment suddenly finds herself summoned to face a good hiding because it is the only solution available, whether the implement of chastisement is the paddle, the cane or the slipper.


The following is taken from one of the stories:

Concerning Jennifer Franklin

The newly married Jennifer on honeymoon in France on the eve of the First World War talks to her husband about their first sexual encounter and its painful aftermath, though there are things that she does not feel inclined to tell him…

…[Jennifer] continued the story. “Being a big girl I had a room to myself as a privilege for keeping an eye on a dorm of juniors. Anyway when they were sound asleep I positioned my pillows to look as if I was there and slipped out. I kept my clothes on and put a coat on. It was October 1st and it was not that warm but also I wanted to look like a mistress taking a late turn in the grounds. I was scared, but pleasantly so. My real worry was you would not have worked it out. That was what made my heart pound.”

“I was expecting a real picnic,” he said with a fond smile, “and there you were all over me, and it all seemed so right, though even by female standards you had an awful lot of clothes to take off. But when they were off you had the most beautiful body I have ever seen.”

He wondered if he should admit how intense his own feelings had been; the outline of her body had been so lovely in the dusk light, though it had been cold till they got going… and the second climax had been even wilder than the first one and he had had a very strange feeling of ending up in another universe, that he had never experienced with any other woman. It was probably why he had married her, he decided.

“Liar! You’d been with other girls I know, and I am not particularly pretty!” She burst out giggling while aiming a playful slap at his backside, which he ignored.

“Yes, you are; you really are the most beautiful girl I have known.”

“Sorry, I did not mean to hurt you,” she murmured, suddenly feeling awkward and caressing him.

“So, what happened, after our meeting?” he asked, feeling embarrassed that he should have failed to protect his love after this, their first real encounter.

“We had gone on a lot longer than I had meant to. Well, it was quite wonderful, so I am not going to complain; but it was after half past eleven and I had been counting on being mistaken for one of the mistresses going for a walk, which around nine or even ten would have been quite plausible. Anyway it was painfully simple. The old caretaker, Mr Morris, spotted an intruder in the grounds and walked out and caught me. I could have run, but he called out my name, so I knew it was useless. I was marched off to Miss Jameson’s room, who was furious. I thought I was going to be told to leave the school there and then and never darken its doors more, but she told me to come and see her in her study before breakfast next morning.”

“And then you got the cane?”

“Yes, six of the very best on my horribly tight drawers. I still remember them tightening and feeling very exposed. And she really knew how to cane. It was excruciating and very humiliating. At least she did not tell my parents I had been out of bounds at night; that could have been very difficult.”

In spite of himself he imagined her touching her toes while her lovely full buttocks lurched backwards and forwards under the impact of a well applied cane; he found it both shocking and arousing.

She by contrast found herself reliving those horribly slow moments. She remembered knocking on the door that said Headmistress on it, wondering if Miss Jameson would be there yet, fully expecting to be sent home in the most dreadful disgrace. It was the sort of thing that if it came out could make a girl un-marriageable, though no doubt her parents would try to keep it quiet. It was not impossible that she might be sent off to Australia or South Africa with an arranged marriage she would have to accept because there would be no alternative and probably with some quite dreadful man.

Miss Jameson to her surprise smiled at her as she came through the door and she wondered why. Oh, God, she was going to be mocked as well as disgraced!

“Well, Miss Ashton,” the headmistress began, “this does seem somewhat of a pickle you have got yourself into. Going for a walk at night without a chaperone is not the sort of thing that one expects of a girl like you. I have known you to be very naughty, but this is just the type of thing that ruins a girl of your background’s reputation for good, and normally you are not stupid, whatever else you are. I hope you have a good explanation. I would like to hear the truth; the true facts might do you some good.”

“It was my birthday and I felt like a walk by the river,” she said determinedly.

“So you went for a walk by the river at after eleven o’clock at night to celebrate your birthday?” enquired the headmistress with more than touch of irony. “If you felt you had to do this, then why did you not ask a mistress to accompany you as your chaperone? If it had been put to me in those terms I would not have stopped you going; I like a certain independence in my older girls, provided it is kept within bounds.”

“I just did not think about it,” she said very lamely.

“I very much doubt that, Miss Ashton; you strike me as a girl who thinks a lot. I could be wrong but I think you were with a man last night. There is a certain look to a girl’s face after she has been with a man for the first time and I think you are definitely carrying the mark of it. Think before you answer. I will send you home in disgrace with the facts publicly known if I think you are lying. If you tell me the truth I might be more sympathetic.”

Jennifer gulped, feeling as if a great pit was opening before her and only just restrained the tears that seemed so desperate to come.

“If you please, Miss Jameson, I was with my lover and I do love him very much. Please don’t tell anybody else.”

“Did you make love?” enquired Miss Jameson remorselessly.

“Yes, Miss Jameson.”

Well, there it was; she was disgraced for life.

“You took your clothes off for him and made love and he went inside you? I will assume from the tone of your voice he did not make you do this.”

“No, he did not make me do it at all; I was the one who really wanted to do it and he was slightly nervous.”

“Did you or your lover take any precautions to prevent the unwelcome appearance of a baby?”

“He did, Miss Jameson.”

“Thank the lord for that!” the headmistress said and then went on in a very measured tone, “Now listen to me, Miss Ashton. I have always admired the works of Mr Shelley, and his private life and his relationships with young women in most people’s view were a disgrace, an absolute disgrace! And so was Lord Byron’s, though he was not such a good poet. Therefore I am not going to blame you. The young always want to do these things, even if society is so much against it at present. Indeed I am not sure I would not have liked something like this to have happened to me with one man in particular when I was young and it never did. Therefore you will not be disgraced publicly and we will keep the matter between us.

“However, I am not going to let you get away with this. You need, I think, a shock to prevent a repetition of this unfortunate incident, at least while you are at this school. I think the simplest solution would be what our schools for young gentlemen call ‘six of the very best,’ though I am sure that at a boys’ school you would get rather more than six strokes for this.

“However, the fact that you have had a sound whipping is unlikely to remain a secret and we will obviously need to concoct a story between us; otherwise your disgraceful behaviour will come out, which would rather spoil the point. Therefore it will be announced in assembly that you have been punished for being repeatedly caught in possession of cigarettes, and indeed, let me think, for supplying them to other girls. I would not be surprised if there was some truth in that anyway. Are you prepared to accept that?”

“Yes, Miss Jameson.”

There did not seem much else to say.

“Remove your outer garments, then bend over the end of the sofa and stick your bottom out.”

Jennifer struggled with her schoolgirl tunic and blouse and two petticoats for what seemed a very long time; her fingers just did not seem to be working as they should and she felt acute embarrassment about undressing in front of her headmistress. At last it was done. She felt unsure what to do with the clothes she had taken off. Surely she must be supposed to do something with them. She glanced at the headmistress for an answer, but she was busily practicing swishing a horribly large cane and Jennifer turned away again, feeling frightened and wanting to run out of the room, but knowing that she couldn’t; she had to stay here and take the punishment. After a moment’s thought she folded the garments and put them on the sofa before very reluctantly bending over the end of said piece of furniture.

Sticking her bottom out took a moment’s thought; she could not think how to do it for a second. As she did it she could feel her drawers tightening, and that in turn made her realize just how thin they were and just how painful this was going to be and she started quivering like an autumn leaf. But at least it would be over in a few seconds, a still voice of calm somewhere in her head kept saying. But the few seconds lengthened uncomfortably and she began to feel more than slightly sick. If only Miss Jameson would stop practicing swishing the cane and get on with it! In Jennifer’s heightened state of mind the relentless swishing sounded like a swarm of bees waiting to sting and anyway such careful practice beforehand suggested that Miss Jameson was going to be very severe.

Then she heard a voice briskly asking if she was ready. She reluctantly muttered she was. The cane swished without further warning and went through her drawers as if they were not there. For a second it did not seem to have hurt that much and then there was a great wave of pain from her upper bottom and tears were flooding and she was sobbing piteously. The second stroke lashed her lower buttocks. That really hurt and she heard herself screech. Miss Jameson was nothing if not efficient; the third stroke neatly bisected her buttocks and bit deep. This time she did not just screech but howled and went on howling for the remainder of the punishment. Something inside her said that she was making an awful fuss, but the calm little voice in her head said (as her poor bottom thrust wildly under the impact of the fourth stroke) that she had every right to make a fuss when it hurt so much. Then just before the fifth stroke she had an intense image of her lover naked. When the fifth stroke descended, though she screamed again, she realized she was climaxing for the third time in less than twelve hours.

“Ah, ah, ah,” she could hear herself saying as her bottom thrust up and down; she was on fire and quite hysterical, but she was beginning to feel oddly gratified. She prayed that Miss Jameson had not noticed, or at least would pretend not to notice. It would be so embarrassing if she chose to mention it.

However, mercifully, the headmistress just ignored Jennifer’s odd writhings and noises that continued for some while after the caning stopped. She just put the cane away and did not say anything till Jennifer painfully staggered upright.

Then she just gave a faint smile and said, “Quite tough for a girl, aren’t you, Jennifer Ashton; I was more than half expecting to have to get someone in to hold you. At least you stayed in position for all your noise.”

“Can I go, Miss Jameson?” she asked, desperately resisting her longing to clench her buttocks with her hands; she was not going to let Miss Jameson see how much the caning had hurt her, climax or no climax.

“Yes, of course you can. Get dressed and go. And Jennifer, good luck with your lover, you will probably need it. But please try and keep within the rules in future. At least try not to be caught!” …

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