This is the eighth in a series of stand-alone stories about a strict yet caring headmaster and the girls at his school.

By Miss Em

(If you are new to The Girls of Brandon Academy Series you might want to read the Introduction to the first story in the series about Jessica Walker or the Prologue to Caught Red-Handed, story 7)

*          *          *

It was a beautiful Thursday afternoon in April. The girls had settled back into the school routine since their return from Easter/Spring Break. I had decided to cut my day short; I let my secretary leave early and I finished up my daily reports before two. I usually work until six o’clock in the evening, so I was looking forward to a nice walk back to my campus apartment, having an afternoon to catch-up on some of my reading, maybe watch a video before a leisurely dinner, and just have an all round pleasant, trouble-free afternoon and evening.

I cleared my desk, put a copy of the Journal of Education in my briefcase and started for the door. As I reached the outer office, I was confronted by our World History instructor, Mrs Huntsinger, a slightly heavy-set woman in her fifties, wearing her medium brown hair in a tight bun, and having a tight hold on the upper left arm of an obviously perturbed Rebecca Shaw, my adopted daughter.

Before I could speak to either of them, Mrs Huntsinger began scolding my daughter. “Now, you’ll get what’s coming to you, Miss Shaw. You’ll see what happens to girls who smoke cigarettes in the rest-rooms of this school. Mr Davenport does not put up with that sort of nonsense, young lady, not at all. Not at all Missy! Do you Sir?”

“Well, uh, no, no of course not.” I sputtered as I tried to grasp the situation presenting itself to me. I gave a disapproving look to Rebecca, who was trying to hold a stack of books while being jerked back and forth by an obviously upset member of my faculty. Feeling an immediate need to calm Mrs Huntsinger and to get a better picture of what Rebecca was accused, I opened the door to my inner office. “Let’s go in here, ladies. Mrs Huntsinger, have a seat,” I suggested and pointed to one of the leather chairs. Then I spoke to my daughter: “and Rebecca, you may stand in front of my desk.”

“Now you’re going to get your bottom whacked, Missy, you’ll see, very soon,” Mrs Huntsinger continued scolding as she pushed Rebecca towards my desk.  “And stand up straight, girl! You are before the Headmaster. Show some respect.”

Rebecca gave me one of those helpless looks as I propped on the left corner of my desk. “Let me get the facts straight. Mrs Huntsinger, please sit down,” I suggested pointing to the brown leather chair in front of me. She did so and I continued. “Now, tell me exactly what happened, Mrs Huntsinger.”

“This miscreant was smoking in the rest-room on the lower floor of the library building. I went in to check because I thought I smelled smoke. And sure enough, when I entered there was heavy smoke everywhere and a heavy stench of cigarettes. Miss Shaw was the only girl there.”

“Oh, please! I was the only one you saw! You didn’t even look for anyone else!”

“That’s enough Rebecca. You know better than raise your voice to a faculty member. Apologize to Mrs Huntsinger,” I demanded.

“But, Sir!”

“You’ve earned yourself three licks. Do you want to try for six?”

“No, Sir.”

Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a bit of a smile cross my history instructor’s face, but I needed to stay focused on my daughter. “Apologize now, Rebecca.”

“Yes, Sir.”  Rebecca fiddled with her long, blonde hair before she turned to face the 55-year-old teacher, “Mrs Huntsinger, I’m sorry for raising my voice. I was out-of-line. Please forgive me.”

“Of course, dear. I understand you are just upset that I caught you.”

“Thank you, ma’am. Sir, may I say something, please?”

“All right, Rebecca. What do you want to say?”

“Sir, I was in the restroom, but I wasn’t smoking.”

“Well, we will continue that talk in a few minutes,” I said moving around my desk to retrieve the school paddle from the bottom desk drawer. “Let’s take care of this first.”

“I’ll be more careful, Headmaster, I promise. I won’t raise my voice again.  Pleeease, don’t!”

“Let’s not waste time, Miss Shaw. I believe you know the position.”

Rebecca pleaded with her bright blue-green eyes. I really don’t like paddling the girls in front of others, but I also felt under the circumstances that Mrs Huntsinger deserved to see Rebecca punished for her rudeness.

“If I have to remind you of the correct position for a paddling, I’m going to add two extra swats, Miss Shaw.”

“Oh, no. please, Sir. I’m sorry.” Rebecca turned and leaned over my desk, then popped back up as I walked to her left side. “Do I, um, should I  lower my slacks, Sir?”

“No, not this time; just get back down over the desk.”

She obeyed. I tapped the paddle lightly against her bottom and saw her grab the other side of my desk and hold her breath as I brought the paddle back. I swung and the paddle struck her bottom right smack dab in the middle.

She refrained from vocalizing and only blew out that breath long and hard.

The second swat popped her bottom in the same place; she bit her lip, drummed her feet on the floor, and shook her head, her long hair flying wildly.

I wasted no time in placing the third swat in the same spot again. Rebecca bit her lip, held on to the edge of the desk so tight that her knuckles were turning white, and moaned ever so softly. She stomped her feet again, tossed her head back and then shook her head again to shake away the tears. She started to get up.

“Stay in position, Miss Shaw.”

“Now, Mrs Huntington, you saw no other girls?”

“Two of our freshmen came out as I entered, but they couldn’t possibly have gotten hold of cigarettes.”

“All right, Rebecca, stand up and tell me your side of the story.”

Getting up slowly, Rebecca, rubbed her bottom before wiping away a few tears.

“I, uh, I  was in the library studying with Meagan Richards. We went to the bathroom before heading home. I wasn’t smoking, Sir, I wasn’t.”

“Well of course she’s going to deny it, Headmaster, but she was standing in the middle of all that smoke.”

“Did you actually see Miss Shaw with a cigarette, Mrs Huntsinger?”

“Well, no, but she probably flushed it. I heard a toilet flush as I entered.”

“Of course! I went to the bathroom, so I flushed. I wasn’t raised in a zoo!”

“That’s quite enough, young lady, unless you want to feel the tawse.”

“I’m sorry, but there were others in that bathroom. There were two girls leaving as I went in. And there were at least three hiding in the stalls. Maybe they were the ones smoking.”

“Do you know who these other girls were?”

“No, Sir.” She answered timidly.

“Mrs Huntsinger, is it possible you missed seeing these other girls?”

“Well I did see several leave. But I saw no one else in the bathroom.”


“Rebecca, you’re in enough trouble, young lady, you don’t need to say anything else. Go stand facing the wall over there,” I directed pointing to my left. “And clasp your hands behind your back.”

I waited until my directions had been followed before speaking to my teacher again. “Mrs Huntsinger, I appreciate your attentiveness and diligence in this matter. I am going to have to do a little more investigating. Please be assured that I will deal with the culprit or culprits. It’s almost 2:30, I’m sure you’d like to go get ready for your three o’clock class.”

“Yes, sir, I do need to go set up for a presentation. But what about our young lady there, Headmaster Davenport?”

“You let me worry about Miss Shaw, I’ll see that she is properly taken care of.” I escorted my gloating instructor to the door and opened it. “Thank you, again, for bringing this to my attention, Mrs Huntsinger. I’m going to suggest we monitor those restrooms more closely at the next faculty meeting.”

“Thank you, Headmaster. Good-afternoon, Sir.”

I closed the door and locked it, not wanting to be disturbed while I talked to Rebecca, who was starting to turn around. “Did I give you permission to  turn around, young lady?”

She quickly resumed her position facing the wall. “No, Sir, I’m sorry.”

I smiled as I watched her nervously fidget with her hair hanging down her back. I let her stand for about five minutes while I placed the tawse and cane on my desk along with the paddle that was already there. “Alright, Rebecca, join me please.”

Her eyes widened as she approached my desk. “Are you going to use those on me?”

“I haven’t decided yet, Rebecca. It depends on what kind of conversation we have.”

“What’s the point of talking? You don’t believe me, any way! You believe Mrs Huntsinger!”

“Calm down, Becca, or I will put you across my knee!”

She threw her arms around my neck. “Oh, daddy, I wasn’t smoking. I’ve been honest with you. I know better. Besides, I knew you’d blister my bottom if you ever caught me smoking at school.”

“Not just at school, young lady; I’ll wear you out for smoking any where, any time.  But I’ll be much harder on you if I catch you lying to me about this.” I took her by the shoulders and pushed her out at arms length. “So if there is anything you’d like to tell me…”

“I’m not lying, I didn’t smoke anything!” she insisted.

“All right, Rebecca. Let’s talk about these other girls that were in the restroom. Who were they?” I asked as I released my hold on her.

She turned away. “I don’t know, Dad.”

“Don’t know or don’t want to tell me.”

“Dad, I don’t want to be a snitch. The other girls would know I told. It would get them in trouble and they’d think I did it to get myself out of trouble.”

“Unfortunately, you are the one in trouble. You are the only one Mrs Huntsinger saw in that restroom.”

“But I didn’t smoke! I shouldn’t get punished for something I didn’t do!”

“Then you need to tell me who else was in that restroom.”

“Please, Dad, I can’t tell you.”

“I’m going to let you think about that a little while. It’s almost time for your next class. Let’s postpone this discussion until after supper. But if you chose not to tell me the names of the girls who were in that restroom, then you will leave me no choice but to punish you.”

“That’s not fair, Dad. Just because I’m your daughter, you want me to tell on my friends.”

“No, it has nothing to do with your being my daughter. I would ask the same of any girl in the same situation.”

“Now you’re talking as the headmaster. I sometimes wish you could just be my dad and believe me.”

“I do believe you, Becca. But as headmaster, I have to put a stop to this smoking. What if those girls had somehow started a fire and the library burned down? Do you understand the financial loss as well as the loss of important books and documents? And even worse, someone in the building could be seriously burned or killed. So while as your dad I can believe you didn’t smoke, as Headmaster someone is going to suffer some consequences for smoking. You were caught in that restroom, so unless you are willing to name the others who were hiding then you must accept my decision as headmaster, to punish you.”

“What will the punishment be for smoking?”

“Two weeks on restriction, and two Saturday detentions, and a caning.”

She lowered her head. “Oh.” Her response was soft and depressed.

Becca was angry with Mrs Huntsinger and with me. So it was good that I was heading home early and she had another class plus a drama club meeting afterwards. When she entered the apartment I could tell she was still in a pouty mood. Before she went to her room, I stopped her.

“Rebecca, when we sit down to supper I expect you to be over this attitude. I want to see my beautiful, smiling daughter at the table.”

“Yes, sir. But Dad, it’s not fair that I get punished for something I didn’t do!” She exclaimed spinning around to face me.

“I agree with you. But unless you want to tell me who was hiding in the restroom…”

“Will I still be punished?”

“Not if you’ve told me the truth. Now go start your homework. I’ll fix dinner tonight.”

“Okay,” she said sulking away to her room.

About an hour later, I called Rebecca for supper. She surprised me by being in a better mood and we chatted about her classes, her grades and her upcoming test. “Do you want any help studying for that Biology exam?”

“No, I think I’ve got it, and I’ve got a few more days to study; the test isn’t until next Tuesday.”

“Well let me know if you want some help. Now, you’d better go finish your homework,” I announced, getting up and taking our plates to the sink. “I’ll take care of cleaning the kitchen.”

“Could we finish our talk about who was smoking?”

“Yes, if there’s something else to discuss.”

“You know there is.” She lowered her head and continued: “Meagan Richards, Susan Worthy and that new student, Deborah, Deborah Carson, I think. They were the ones hiding.”

“Thank you. I know that wasn’t easy. I’ll speak to them first thing in the morning.”

“And me.”

“And you?”

“Then maybe they won’t figure out I told on them.”

“All right, Sweetie, I’ll send for you at the same time I call for the others. Now what about some ice cream, Neapolitan, your favorite.”

“I don’t think so. I’ll clean-up the kitchen. Then I’ve got some more homework to finish. And I think I need to get to bed early;  I’ve got a feeling I won’t be sleeping well.”

“Go on, get finished with that homework. I’ll take care of the clean-up and I’ll check on you later.”

“Thanks, Dad.” She placed a kiss on my cheek before leaving.

I looked in on Becca at nine. She was already asleep.

*          *          *

At ten o’clock the next morning I had four young ladies standing in front of my desk.  Each was attired appropriately in school uniforms. It was casual Friday; all were wearing navy slacks, light blue or white blouses, and red plaid blazers. All were nervous and all looked at the floor. I took my time in looking at each one and reviewing their discipline file. Meagan Richards had only been in my office twice before. Susan Worthy and Rebecca had numerous visits, and Deborah Carson was new to our school. It was her first visit to me, but her transfer records indicated that she had been a frequent troublemaker at her previous school. I leaned back in my chair and started my interrogation.

“Tell me, Miss Carson, do you know why you are here in my office this morning?”

“No, Sir.”

“Anyone want to venture a guess?” I asked. Each girl shook her head ‘no’.

“Then let me explain,” I began my lecture. “Someone was smoking in the rest-room on the lower level of the library building yesterday. Each of you was seen around that rest-room at the time the smoke was discovered.”

I paused to rearrange the paddle, tawse and medium weight cane I had placed on my desk before the girls entered. I let the girls stare at them (and each other) before walking around to prop on the front of my desk and continue my speech.

“I want to put a stop to smoking in this school, and you girls are going to help me.” Rebecca already knew the consequences I had in mind, but even she had a perplexed look on her face. “In a couple of minutes I’m going to send all of you out to my secretary’s office to think. Then I want the girl or girls who were smoking in that restroom yesterday to come back in my office in 15 minutes for discipline.”

“You’ve got to be kidding!” Smirked Deborah Carson.

The other girls giggled, but stopped when I cleared my throat. “No, Miss Carson, I am not. I am also not accustomed to being interrupted.”

I picked up the paddle.

“Step to the end of my desk, there.”

She didn’t move. The other girls were watching to see how I would handle her defiance.

“Miss Carson, you have to the count of three to follow my instructions. One… Two… Three.”

She stood her ground and therefore was directly challenging me.

“Very well. Rebecca, Susan, Meagan; I need the three of you to step back into the front office with Mrs Jackson. I will call you back in after I have a long talk with Miss Carson.”

The three  girls moved towards the door quickly.

“Rebecca, make sure the door is closed.”

“Yes, Headmaster.”

Miss Carson repeated the phrase with a very sarcastic tone in her voice. “Yes, Headmaster. No, Headmaster. I’m sorry, Headmaster. Do they grovel at your feet, too?”

I put the school paddle down and retrieved the smaller paddle soon as the door closed. I stood, took Miss Carson by the arm, and in one quick motion I pulled her across my knee as I propped on my desk, locked her legs immediately to lessen her ability to struggle and the with all the force I could muster I started swatting her bottom. At first she just struggled, but after about six swats Deborah Carson realized she wasn’t getting away.

“Let me go! You can’t do this! OW! That hurts! Ooowww!!!! Stop, I said!! Damn it, I SAID, LET ME GO, you, you  bastard!”

I had probably given her about twenty smacks when the last words exited her mouth. I paused the spanking long enough to address her choice of words.

“When I spank you, you may cry or scream as much as you want, young lady, but you will refrain from profanity and vulgar language. That will only get you more of the same.” I spoke deliberately. “Shall we continue?”

I placed another six well deserved spanks to her bottom and six to the sit spots, and I thought she had accepted my right to discipline her. But as I helped her stand she drew back an arm a swung at me. I barely caught her arm before she made contact with my face. Holding the struggling brunette with one hand, I reached for my tawse. Then I literally struggled to get her over my desk.

“Stay down, Miss Carson,” I directed forcefully holding her down and hoping she would co-operate. She didn’t. “You are only making this harder on yourself, girl.  Stop struggling and take your spanking.”

“NOOOOOO!!!!” She screamed. “I WON’T!!”

With difficulty, I held the 5’6” girl in place and pressed my intercom button three times. My secretary knew this meant I wanted her present.

“Yes, sir,” Carol Jackson responded entering. Upon seeing the struggling girl, Carol quickly approached. “How can I help, sir?”

“This young lady is determined to see me at my best. Would you please grab her arms and hold her down, while I tend to her bottom?”

Mrs Jackson nodded and went to the other side of my desk.

Carol has had to help me with a few girls who chose to struggle during their discipline sessions. So she was adept at holding girls in their place. She pulled Deborah’s arms across the desk and then pushed gently on her shoulders to hold her down.

Miss Carson was protesting the entire time and now that her arms and hands were restrained, she started kicking. I had never had a girl try to hurt me. Avoid the spanking, yes, but slap or kick at me, no. I decided the tawse put me too close, so I picked up the cane that had landed on the floor during the struggle. I carefully positioned myself and gave the cane a couple of test flips. Then I placed the cane against Deborah’s well protected bottom and tapped twice.

“You can’t beat me with that! My parents will have your jo… OOOOOOHHH!!”  She screamed as the cane made its first cut across the middle of her well- developed bottom.

I wasted no time in placing a second stroke a little lower than the first.



I paused for ten seconds, struck the cane against her trouser-covered bottom for a third time.

“Please, no more! My bottom is on fire!! Please, Sir.”

She was actually crying like a child. I could not stop at her request. I pulled my arm back and aimed for the crease just below her bottom at the top of her thighs. I wanted her to feel this every time she sat down for the next three or four days.


“Aaa-oOOOH!! Oh, ooo, oooo!” Tears continued flowing.

“Stay in place until I tell you to get up,” I instructed.

“Yes, sir,” she responded with a sniffle.

“Mrs Jackson, thank you for your help. I think Miss Carson understands my expectations now. Am I correct Miss Carson?”

“Yes, sir. I, I, um, I’m sorry.”

“You can go back to your work, Carol. But keep the other girls there for a few more minutes. Miss Carson and I need to talk.”

“Certainly, Mr Davenport. I’ll wait for your signal to send them in.”

As my secretary left, I allowed Deborah to get up. “You may stand, Miss Carson, but keep your hands to your sides.”

She lifted herself off my desk and wiped her eyes with her hand. I offered her some tissues. “Here, blow your nose.”

She took several tissues.

“Something tells me you’ve never experienced a spanking before. Am I correct?”

Deborah looked at the floor and nodded.

“I would prefer a verbal answer, please.”

“My parents have never spanked me.”

“Well, you and your parents signed permission for me to discipline you as I saw fit. Do you understand why I spanked you, Deborah?”

She continued to look down at her feet. “Because I didn’t do what you asked.”


“And I, I tried to hit you.”

“I hope you understand that by struggling you lengthened your over-the-knee spanking and I don’t usually take a cane to a student on the first visit to my office. However, you would not settle down to allow me to use the tawse. You will be a most uncomfortable young lady for the next few days. And we haven’t even addressed the smoking issue yet.”

“But you’ve already spanked me and used that stick!”

“Watch your tone. It is called a cane and I am trying to be lenient with you, since you are new to the school and to corporal punishment. If one of the other young ladies out there had tried to hit me as you did they would have received at least ten strokes from the tawse or eight from the cane. Now you have been pushing back hard, and not in a good way. From now on, I expect to be addressed as Headmaster or Sir. You will answer questions appropriately and if asked or told to do something by an instructor, a staff member, or me, you will do so immediately. Is that understood?”


Yes, what?”

“Oh, uh, yes, Sir, I understand.”  She answered politely.

“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it, Deborah?”

“No, Sir, I guess not. Sir, I’m sorry. I panicked. You knew about the cigarettes and I was afraid you’d kick me out of this school like they did at the last one. If I get kicked out of here, my parents are shipping me off to some school in Germany or France or someplace.”

“You know that smoking is against school policy?”

“Yes, sir, but the others were, so I was hoping we wouldn’t get caught. It was after class time.”

“Are you telling me that all four of you were smoking in that restroom?”

“Uh, no, I mean, no, sir. I saw that other girls got away with smoking sometimes and…”

“Let’s stop right there before you get yourself in more trouble by lying to me. You said the others were smoking. Which others?”

Deborah looked at the floor, played with the hem of her jacket, and hesitated to answer. So I firmly repeated the question.

“Which others were smoking, Miss Carson?”

“I don’t know all their names, but two of the girls that came in with me. And then there were others earlier, before that teacher came in and grabbed the one with long, blonde hair.”

“Was the blonde-headed girl smoking yesterday, Miss Carson?”

“No, sir. At least I didn’t see her smoking.”

“How about the other two girls, Susan and Meagan?”

“Yeah, they were bo…”

I cleared my throat. “How do you answer me, young lady?”

“Oh, uh, sorry. Yes, sir, the other two girls and I were hiding in a stall so the old, uh, so that teacher wouldn’t see us.”

“I appreciate your honesty, Deborah. Now I want you to stand facing that wall over there while I talk with the other girls.”

*Yes, sir,” she replied.

As I pressed my intercom button to ask that the other girls be sent back in, I watched Deborah rub her bottom as she walk to the wall. I couldn’t help but smile as I thought I might be getting through to this young lady. Momentarily, the other girls entered and quietly stood before me.

“I’m going to give each of you a chance to avoid a severe punishment. I want to know if you were smoking, and I want to know now. But before I ask, let me warn you. I will not be lenient if you lie to me. So let’s begin. Miss Richards, were you smoking in the library restroom yesterday?”

“Sir, can I explain something first?”

“You may answer my question. Do I need to repeat it, Miss Richards?”

Meagan shook her head ‘no’ as she started to speak. “No sir. I was smoking, but it was my first time, honest it was. I’m so sorry, Sir. Please don’t tell my parents.”

“We’ll talk about your parents later. Go stand over there next to Miss Carson,” I directed.

“Yes, sir.”

“Now, Miss Worthy, same question. Were you smoking in the library rest-room yesterday?”

“Yeah, I was. So what?”

I picked up the small paddle and slapped it against my left hand. “Would you like to rephrase your answer to a more appropriate response, Miss Worthy?”

Susan stared at me for a moment then dropped her eyes before she spoke. “Yes, sir, I’m sorry. I was smoking and I’m the one that brought the cigarettes, and I’m sorry.”

“Join the other girls facing the wall.” Susan nodded and took her place facing the wall.

Then I turned to my daughter, who seemed unusually fidgety. I already knew what her answer would be, but to keep the other girls from knowing Rebecca was my daughter I continued with my questioning. “Miss Shaw, were you smoking in the library yesterday afternoon?”

“No Sir, but, but…”

“Speak up, Miss Shaw.”

“No Sir, but I, I…”

“Speak up, girl. What are you trying to say?” I demanded.

“I wasn’t smoking yesterday afternoon, but I did the day before. Headmaster, I know I was wrong but I wanted to tell you myself, I didn’t want someone else to tell on me.”

“Go stand with the others,” I said trying not to sound like a disappointed father. I let the girls stand for a few more minutes while I sorted out what I should do, especially with my daughter, Rebecca.

When I had recorded their names and offences in the punishment book, I called them back in front of my desk. “All right, young ladies, come stand in front of my desk again.”

All four girls moved slowly, now realizing that consequences were about to be delivered.

“I do not want to hear a word from any of you until I am finished. You have each admitted to smoking, so I have considered your honesty in deciding the punishment. For breaking one of the major school rules, each of you will be on restriction; grounded for two weeks. You will not leave your rooms except for classes, meals, library and chapel. You will serve detention on each of those two Saturdays and you will write an essay on the dangers of smoking and another on the importance of following rules. I hope that having a long time to think about this will help prevent a reoccurrence. But to reinforce this learning experience, you will each receive four licks from the cane today and two more as a reminder after each Saturday detention.” I paused for a minute to look at each girl’s shocked face. “Now, if you have any thing to say, I will listen. Miss Carson?”

“No, uh, I mean, no, sir.”

“Miss Worthy?”

“No, Headmaster Davenport, nothing.”

“Miss Richards?”

“Well, Sir, I would still like to know if you are going to tell our parents.”

“A note will be placed in your discipline file and if your parents should ask, they will be informed. If you accept your discipline and avoid any further incidents with tobacco, I will not go out of my way to contact your parents.”

“Thank you, sir. And sir, I’m, uh, I’m sorry,” Meagan said with a tremor in her voice.

I nodded and gave her a brief smile, then turned to Rebecca. “Well, Miss Shaw, do you wish to say anything?”

“Only that I’m very sorry and I won’t ever smoke again, Sir.”

“I hope you mean that. I’m going to give each of you a very good reason not to smoke.” I said, picking up the cane. “My first thought was to give you all an old-fashion bare bottom spanking. but you are all mature young ladies, so I think this cane will make a suitable impression and that will truly make you think twice before smoking again. Miss Shaw if you would move one of those straight back chairs to the center of the room please.”

“Yes, sir,” Rebecca replied and obeyed. “Is this okay, sir?”

“Yes, that’s fine. Would you and Miss Carson and Miss Worthy stand facing the wall again while I deal with Miss Richards?”

The three girls went to the side wall, faced it, and stood quietly while I chastised Meagan. “You know that smoking is against the school rules, Miss Richards?”

Tears started flowing before she answered. “Yes, sir. I just wanted to see what it was like. I promise I won’t smoke again.”

“I hope you mean that, Meagan. Now I need you to take off your jacket and place it on the back of the chair.”

She obeyed.

“Now, you will bend over the back of the chair, get your head down close to the seat and grab hold to the front legs. You will remain in this position during the caning and until I tell you to get up. Do you understand?”

She nodded and whispered: “Yes, sir.”

“All right, then, place yourself over the chair.”

She obeyed, but was crying hysterically before the punishment even began. I knew she needed to gain some composure or she would have trouble staying in position.

“Meagan,  have your parents ever spanked you?”

“Yes, sir, when I was, was younger, but I think Daddy still would. That’s why I don’t want them to know.”

“Well, I need you to do your best to stay in position now. I do not want to have to repeat a stroke.”

“I’ll try sir.”

“All right, let’s get this over with.”

I took my position to her left, placed the cane on the center of her bottom covered by tight-fitting navy trousers. I swung; a first swat to the center of her bottom.

Swish! And Thwack!


I didn’t wait very long, maybe ten seconds, and placed a second swat just below the first.

Swish! And Smack!

“Aaaaaeeeeeeouch! Please, sir, no more!”

“Stay in position; two more.”

Swish! And Whack!

The third stroke landed slightly lower, just above the upper thighs.

Meagan screamed and I immediately placed the last stroke on her upper thighs. She jerked her head back and stomped her feet. “Please, no more, no more!”

“All right, Meagan, it’s over. That was four strokes. You may get up. Take your jacket and go stand at the wall. Miss Worthy, join me. I believe you know the correct position.”

“Yes, sir.” Susan was nonchalant about this whole incident and I really wanted to give her more licks, because of her attitude and because she provided the cigarettes to the others. But I did not. I gave her four sharp whacks and sent her to stand at the wall in tears.

Then I called Rebecca over. She immediately placed herself over the chair. I placed three sharp swats of the cane across her bottom starting just below center and placing the fourth and final one on her thighs. She succeeded in not screaming, but tears were streaming down her face, and she immediately tried to sooth her burning bottom.

Miss Carson had already received three swats about thirty minutes ago. I was going to have to apply four more. I dislike caning a girl twice in one day and this was in less than an hour, but I had no choice. She was going to be one very uncomfortable young lady for a few days. “All right, Miss Carson. Join me, please.”

“Mr Davenport, please, I’ve already been spanked and caned. Couldn’t you punish me some other way? Please sir.”

“I’m sorry, Miss Carson. You created this situation by not following directions earlier. Now we are dealing with your smoking. You knew that cigarettes were not allowed while a student here, did you not?”

“Yes, sir.” She spoke slowly and hung her head.

“All right then. Remove your jacket and place yourself over the chair. I need to warn you that if you do not stay down and in position, I will have Mrs Jackson come in and hold you down and you will earn extra strokes.”

Placing herself in position over the chair, she took hold of the chair legs. “I’ll try, sir.”

I placed the cane a little low, hoping to strike below the strokes I gave earlier.

Swish Whack!

Unfortunately, I must have missed.

Deborah screamed and jumped up holding her bottom and hopped around the room. I caught her by the left arm, guided her back to the chair, and spoke firmly but softly.

“I know this is hard for you, and I really don’t want to give you extra licks, but if you jump up again, young lady, I will. And Mrs Jackson will be holding you down. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Headmaster. I’m sorry, sir, I’m trying.”

After she placed herself over the chair once more, I place the second stoke a little lower. She cried out and jerked her head back. I wasted no time in placing a third stroke still lower, but not on her thighs. She held tightly to the chair and I tried to encourage her through her tears. “Stay in position, one more and we’ll be finished.” I waited about ten seconds and placed the fourth and last stroke on her thighs.

Deborah cried and sobbed and stayed in position while I put the cane back on my desk. I returned and helped her stand.

“Come on, Miss Carson, go stand in front of my desk.”

She moved slowly, obviously in a lot of pain.

“Ladies, you may all stand in front of my desk.”

As the girls approached, I couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for all of them. They would be returning to their classes with red, teary eyes and very sore bottoms. None of these girls were what I considered bad girls. They were simply testing the rules and got caught.

“Well, ladies, I hope you have all started learning a lesson about smoking. We will continue this lesson during the next two Saturday detentions. I will expect to see you here promptly at 9 am.  Also, I will be informing your dorm leaders of your restrictions. It would not be wise to leave the campus for the next two weeks without my direct approval. Understand?”

Four voices responded together. “Yes, sir.”

“Very well. Mrs Jackson will give you notes to return to class. I suggest you stop by a rest-room if needed and then go straight to class. Any questions?”

“No, sir,” was their unified answer.

“Good. Let’s not have to repeat this lesson. Go on, get to your classes. But remember to be here at nine Saturday morning.”

“Yes, sir,” said Miss Carson being the first to start to exit. She was still sobbing and rubbing her bottom.

Then Miss Worthy turned to leave. “Yes, sir. Saturday.”

Meagan Richards spoke softly. “Thank you, Sir.”

As soon as her friend Meagan was out the door, Rebecca turned back to me.

“May I stay and talk to you a little longer, sir? Please?”

“I think you need to get to class, Rebecca.”

“Please, Headmaster?” She begged.

“Very well, close the door and lock it. Then come here.” I knew she needed some fatherly attention.

She practically flew into my arms. “Oh, Daddy, I’m so sorry. I, I don’t know why I didn’t tell you yesterday. I know you’re upset with me.”

“I’m not upset, Becca. I’m disappointed. I thought you knew better.”

“Am I in trouble with you? I, I mean, you as my dad? I know I have detentions and stuff with you as headmaster.”

“Becca, sweetie, I haven’t had time to think about that. We can discuss that at home tonight. You really do need to get to your classes.” I said kissing the top of her head before releasing her.

“I guess so. I’m sorry, Dad. I just needed you to hold me a few minutes. My bottom is still burning like I sat on a stovetop.”

“I know. You’re going to be uncomfortable for a while, but you’ll survive.”

“Yeah, I guess. I mean, yes, sir.”

She didn’t sound convinced, so I pulled her close. “Come here,” I said, embracing her in another hug. “I’m sorry you’re hurting, but the punishment was deserved.”

“I know, Dad and I promise I will not smoke again.”

“I hope you mean that.” She nodded vigorously, but started crying again. “Hey, no more tears, Becca. I love you, Sweetie. Don’t forget that.”

“I know and I love you too, Dad.” Becca placed a kiss on my check.

“All right, you need to get on to your class. I’ll see you at home this evening.”

“Okay, Dad, and thanks,” she smiled before unlocking the door and leaving.

Sometime that afternoon, I decided it wouldn’t be fair to punish Rebecca anymore. None of the parents would be informed about this incident, so the other girls would not be receiving any additional discipline. I couldn’t see how any more punishment would benefit Rebecca at that time. But I made it a point to spend a lot of time with my daughter over the next few years, talking about making good decisions in life whether it be tobacco, alcohol, illegal drugs, or choices in friends or activities.

All four girls were present for the two Saturday detentions, but that will be a story for another day.

The End

© Miss Em 2015