The Hot Tottie

A Sequel to ‘The Cane Event’, two sisters get what they ask for.

By Angela Fox

With two illustrations by the author

Diana Mason stood in her living room bay window watching the snow that was now drifting down. Just half an hour ago it had been blowing a blizzard but now the wind seemed to have died. It was two o’clock in the afternoon and she had just come in from doing her grocery shopping for the week. She hadn’t bothered to dig the car out, and instead had elected to walk the one mile to the village through snow that was fifteen inches deep. She was very fit and in excellent health and it had been good for her system, though she could have done without the blizzard with almost white-out conditions on the return journey. There had been no traffic on the road and the last two hundred yards up the steep lane had been a bit gruelling, not to mention cold.

Having put her groceries away, she decided to treat herself to a hot toddy, a drink she made from rum, honey and hot tea. Alright, so the tea was plain old Typhoo but it still tasted good and brought some warmth back into her fingers and toes. Her only regret was that she had no one to share it with.

She was thirty when she had given up her job as a ward sister at a good London hospital five years ago, after the publicity had got too much. It had seemed like a good idea to take on the job of a school Matron, looking after the needs of the pupils at an out-of-the-way all-girls boarding school in Devon, and in fact she hadn’t been disappointed. She had used her savings to buy this converted farm hand’s cottage that was both charming, private with all modern conveniences, with its view of the Devon coast from where she now stood. The cottage wasn’t large with one large bedroom and two smaller upstairs bedrooms, large living room and gorgeous, though smallish, kitchen, but it was everything she ever wanted. The only downside was that she had no one to share it with.

Of course, she loved her job, looking after the needs of ‘her’ girls, as she thought of them, but during term time she was on call twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, driving the one mile to the school from home if a girl became sick in the night. It wasn’t that often, but it limited her chances of meeting another special person. And now she was on holiday, yet couldn’t really go anywhere since the snow made driving her car extremely hazardous.

The phone rang, disturbing her reverie.

“This is Diana Mason,” she answered.

“Hello, Miss Mason. Julia Davis here, Cathy’s Mom. Cathy Davis is the girl from St. Anne’s School that you…”

“Yes,” she interrupted. “Of course, I know Cathy and I remember the two occasions you and I met. How are you, Mrs Davis?”

“Please call me Julia, Matron,” said Mrs Davis. “And I am, well, we are fine. We have had a lovely Christmas and Cathy left this morning for a week’s skiing in Austria and won’t be back until a few days before school starts.”

“You didn’t go with her?” Asked Matron.

“Oh no, skiing and I don’t get along. I prefer scuba in crystal clear waters, somewhere where it is warm,” she laughed. “Cathy is with her father’s sister. She is very good with Cathy and Anne and both the girls love her to bits. I sometimes think she goes overboard in an effort to make up for the way her shabby brother treated them, but she really is very nice. They adore her. Anne would have gone too but she doesn’t enjoy skiing and besides, she wanted to stay for a friend’s birthday party.

“But I didn’t call to talk about the girls.” There was a slight pause and she said, “But how are you, Matron? Did you have a lovely Christmas?”

Matron smiled, turned from the bay window and walked over to her easy chair, taking her glass with her.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I did. I stayed in London for the three days of Christmas with an old nursing colleague and we had a nice time. Fortunately, I just got back in time before all this snow hit.”

“Oh, I am so glad. Err look, err, first I wanted to thank you for helping Cathy. That, well, thing you did for her, I know can’t have been easy but she really appreciates it. And you have made her happy and much less stressed. She did very well in the Christmas exams, you know.”

In fact, Matron had caned Cathy twice in the term just gone, once at the end of half term and again on the day that the Christmas holidays began; this despite the fact that St. Anne’s had abandoned all corporal punishment the year before. The reason was that Matron had discovered Cathy had been spanking herself since the moratorium against such punishments. In the years before, she had been one of the most mischievous girls in the school, getting whacked several times each year, often by Matron who was the head disciplinarian of the school, but also by other staff members as well. In fact, prior to the moratorium Cathy, despite being an excellent academician and athlete, had received more corporal punishment than anyone at the school could ever remember. And when, in the last year, Matron or the staff could no longer provide it, she had then turned around and become a very model of good behaviour.

Of course, the reason was simple. Cathy had only misbehaved to receive corporal punishment and when it was no longer available she had started spanking herself, eschewing the bad behaviour which might have resulted in detentions, lines and essays; something she was not in the least interested in receiving.

When Matron had found out, she had immediately banned Cathy from her unusual extracurricular activities, threatening expulsion if she ever caught her spanking herself or even caught her with a red or bruised bottom. In return, after to talking to Cathy’s Mother, Julia, she had offered the cane to Cathy thinking the girl might come to her senses and baulk at the idea of so severe a punishment. But Cathy had not baulked, even though she had cried and sobbed her eyes out. She had in fact surprised Matron with the request that one day Matron would repeat the treatment, which was duly done on the last day of the winter term.

(If the reader is interested please feel free to read the story ‘The Cane Event’ by Angela Fox, which details the above story. http://www.overthedesk.com/spanking_stories/the-cane-event/)

“I am very pleased Cathy is doing so well. I expect great things of her,” replied Matron, starting to wonder why Mrs Davis was calling.

“Err, look, I was calling to, err, request a favour. The thing is, well, err, Cathy is not the only one who suffers from this problem,” said Mrs Davis.

“Oh?” said Matron. “I am not sure I can help. I am only a nurse, you know. Not a doctor or, well, a psychiatrist.”

There was a rather embarrassed laugh on the other end of the line as Julia said, “Yes, perhaps I do need a psychiatrist at that. The thing is that for several years I had been seeing a woman who also used to be a teacher at St. Anne’s when I was there. She retired, of course, but was good enough to, well, help me out, so-to-speak. Sadly, she passed away six months ago and, well, I have been missing her and, well, her services. I was wondering, well, since you helped Cathy, if there would be any way you could see your way to helping me too. I could, of course, pay you for your services,” she finished rather hurriedly.

Matron almost dropped her drink. After a pregnant pause, she said, “Look, sorry, I am just having a drink, but I think I heard what you said. Just to be clear, are you really asking me to cane you?”

“Yes, Matron. I am.” Then after another longish pause, Mrs Davis went on, “Look I am sorry. This was a bad idea. It’s just that it has been a while and, well, I am getting a little desperate. But I didn’t mean to shock you.”

Matron smiled to herself before she said, “Look, Mrs Davis, first of all, I am not shocked. It certainly is an unusual request, I grant you, and is not something I have ever considered doing, at least outside of my duties at the school. A year ago, I was actually responsible for most of the corporal punishment at the school, but, as you know, that duty has gone and I am not really sorry. I much prefer helping the girls rather than deliberately hurting them as a punishment.

“However, that being said, I have nothing in principle against doing what you suggest. I have nothing against helping you providing it is consensual, that we don’t hurt anybody else, and that we can keep it strictly confidential. Truthfully, I might find it entertaining, though I warn you that may just be the alcohol talking at the moment.”

“Oh my God! That would be so kind of you. I was really worried about calling you, but I was desperate and the way you have helped Cathy, well, you really were my last hope. Could you really see your way clear to doing this? I would pay you anything you want.”

“Look, Mrs Davis…”

“Julia,” interrupted Mrs Davis.

“Well look, Julia. First, I shall not accept any kind of payment for this. If we do it at all, I shall do it for my own reasons and money isn’t one of them. If you are feeling generous, make a donation to an animal shelter or a home for battered women, or any charity that supports victims of human atrocities. Secondly, we will have to do this at a location that is private, where no one will know what is happening. The school is out of the question.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem. I understand why we can’t use your office at the school. However, my own home is a little tricky. I have my father living here. He is infirm but not stupid and I do not want to run the risk of him finding out. Perhaps we could rent a hotel room somewhere?”

“I suppose in principle we could do that,” agreed Matron. “Or we could do it at my cottage if you like. It isn’t big but it is private, even a little isolated.”

“Oh? It sounds perfect. But only if you are sure. Where do you live?”

Matron told her and Julia replied, “Oh, only about a dozen miles from where I live. That would be wonderful if you are sure.”

Matron laughed. “Oh, it’s not a problem. Though there is a problem,” and she laughed again.

“Oh, what is wrong?” Asked Julia, suddenly sounding disappointed.

“Well, it is just that I don’t have a cane. I don’t even have Cathy’s spanking paddle, and my own hairbrushes are not suitable. They would break.”

She heard Julia giggle. “That’s funny. But it’s not a problem. I know where I can get a suitable cane. I could bring one with me.”

“So, when exactly would you want to do this? Saturday is New Year’s Eve and we go back to school the second week of January. Truthfully, I would prefer doing it before I return to school since once I go back, although I generally come home to sleep, I can get called back to school at any time to take care of a girl who might get sick in the night.”

“That’s not a problem,” said Julia. “I return to the office on Tuesday next week and Cathy won’t get back till Thursday. But perhaps we could do it this Friday? Anne will be at her friend’s party. Sometime say in the afternoon? Would that work for you?”

“Yes, certainly, Friday would be fine. Would two o’clock suit?”

“Absolutely!” Julia paused for a little bit and said, “Hmm. I shouldn’t really ask this but my sister will kill me if I don’t. Would you be upset if I brought her with me? Her name is Helen and she used to go to St. Anne’s too.

Matron grinned. “Providing she can keep our secret I don’t mind. I suppose she knows about your hobby and that you will need her to drive you home?”

She heard Julia laugh. “Oh, Helen knows alright. We have no secrets. But you see, the cane we bring will be hers and she will want to be caned too. She is suffering the same withdrawals as I am. We are just over five years apart, she being the younger, and I am pretty sure she was enjoying this before I was! Trust me, if you allow Helen to come, you will be caning her too.”

When Matron finally hung up she realised she was quite looking forward to the event, even a little excited. She decided to make herself another hot toddy to celebrate.

*          *          *

The telephone rang again only one hour later.

“Hello, this is Diana Mason,” answered Matron.

“Hi, this is Helen Samuels. I am Julia’s sister, that is Julia Davis’s sister. I hope you didn’t mind me calling and that Julia passed me your telephone number.”

“Not at all,” said Matron.

“The reason I called was first to thank you very much, for offering to help Julia and also allowing me in on the action too. I also wanted to incidentally thank you for helping Cathy. You must think our family is a right bunch of weirdo’s,” laughed Helen.

“I do like and admire Cathy. She is an excellent athlete, a great school hockey captain, academically gifted with wonderful aspirations of medical school. It doesn’t matter to me that she has a strange hobby, as it were, provided it remains hidden. But at least I am starting to get an idea that it might be in her genes,” Matron laughed in return.

“Actually, you may be more right than you know,” said Helen. “I know my Mother enjoyed this, err, activity with our father supplying the spanks, though he never spanked Julia or me. And then there is the famous hairbrush. I believe you saw it? It has been handed down from mother to daughter. This weirdness seems to get passed down the female line in our family. Sort of like the hairbrush that Julia told me has now been passed to Cathy. But the other reason I called is that Julia said you didn’t possess any, err, implements?”

“Not here in my house. I do still have those I used at the school before the moratorium, and I suppose I could drive there and get them. It is only about a mile from here.”

“Oh no. There is no need. I have quite a collection. I can bring anything you need.”

“Do you mind me asking, Mrs Samuels…”

“It is Miss Samuels. I never married, but please call me Helen.”

All right, Helen, but I thought you liked to be spanked rather than, well, dishing it out. Why do you have canes? Sorry, I am just curious and trying to understand,” said Matron.

She heard Helen laugh at the other end of the line. “Sorry,” she said, “A bit of a story. To start with, sort of like Cathy, I got to liking spanking at school, just as Julia did before me. Neither Julia nor I, of course, got into self-spanking, there was no need. The teachers and headmistress at that time provided all we wanted and we both learned how to misbehave in just the right way to get what we needed, though please understand that neither Julia or I ever did anything to hurt anyone else or their property.

“However, when I went to university, one evening after some alcohol I was able to talk my girlfriend into spanking me. It was a lot of fun and fulfilled my need. I must admit we then went a little crazy and bought all sorts of implements, particularly canes, when she realised how much I could take.

“Eventually, as first loves do, we parted ways, amicably as it turns out, and she didn’t want her new girlfriend to know what she had been doing with me in case, I suppose, it scared the new girl off. So, I kept all the toys. I have had them ever since.”

“And after you left university, did you continue this, err, hobby?” Asked Matron.

“Yes, though it took a while. Several years in fact. I had other girlfriends, but none of them was interested.”

“You are lesbian?” Asked Matron bluntly.

“Guilty as charged, Ma’am. I bat for the other side, as it were. Is that a problem?”

“Not at all,” replied Matron. “Rather the opposite, actually.”

“Interesting,” replied Helen. “Anyway, it was on a trip to our school that I met the old deputy headmistress, Miss Bainbridge. It was her retirement party actually. After the party was over I saw her walking towards her car that was parked next to mine and we started chatting, but it was cold and rainy so we decided to go onto the Hanging Gate pub to talk more about old times. She had been my English teacher, you see, as well as my dorm mother, and over the years we had gotten to know each other very well. In fact, many of my pranks had been directed against her, not to hurt her but to get her to spank me, which she did. Rather a lot actually.

“Anyway, in the pub, after a few drinks, well yes, I suppose I got drunk. I think she did too, actually,” she laughed. “Anyway, one thing led to another and, at some point, she asked me if I wanted to be spanked again. Am not exactly sure how that conversation got started but I told her I would love it. She said something about doing it at her place and the next thing I remember was we were in a cab going to her house. She made coffee, we sobered up a bit and she asked me if I still wanted to go through with it. Of course I did, and I was soon over her lap which progressed to over her settee and receiving the cane.

“I stayed the night, as I recall. We were never lovers or anything, but about once each month I would go over there, usually on a Saturday afternoon, where she would entertain me with coffee and buns and such and then at some point I would get a good whacking. For me, it was a sort of stress relief and for her, I think, it was company and doing something she at least mildly enjoyed. We would have a hug afterwards, some tea and then I would be on my way.

“One day Julia and I got talking. Did you know we often work together? She is a solicitor and I am a barrister.”

“No, I didn’t,” replied Matron. “I knew she was in the legal profession. She actually prepared the papers that showed that she and Cathy both consented to me caning Cathy. I guessed she was a solicitor but had no idea that you were in the law profession too.”

“Ah yes, she is the writer and I am the talker,” Helen laughed. “Anyway, I mentioned Miss Bainbridge to her and she asked me to ask our old teacher if she would accept another client. I suppose it will no longer surprise you that Miss Bainbridge then began to offer the same services to Julia. Again, I think for Miss Bainbridge it was just more company; something to help her pass her days away. Julia and I never went there together, though occasionally we discussed our experiences and they were almost identical. I suppose Miss Bainbridge liked to get into routine and spanking and caning two ex-pupils was a bit of entertainment for her. For all I know, there may have been others, but if there were, she never let on.

“Anyway, Miss Bainbridge, bless her soul, passed away six months ago and I suppose Julia and I have been going through a little withdrawal since then. I have been too busy to really linger on it but my sister has a little more free time. I think this thing with Cathy sort of got her fired up. I imagine that, in a nice way, she was a little jealous of Cathy and rather wished it was herself that you were caning instead. After all, the scene that you played out with Cathy at the end of half term was similar to what we both experienced with Miss Bainbridge.”

“Hmm,” mused Matron. “I was wondering about that. Did you just show up at Miss Bainbridge’s house, eat tea and crumpets and then go over her lap? I ask because I have never engaged in any such activities outside of what I did for Cathy and what my previous duties were at the school. In fact, when I caned Cathy I kept up the pretence that it was a formal school punishment. I think it helped me keep a sense of normality about it.”

“I suspect Miss Bainbridge also felt a little like that. I mean she would rather have a reason than to just do it. The first time, it wasn’t too important because I suppose we still had a little alcohol on board. Even then, it wasn’t a sex thing or anything. However, the very next time I visited her she actually pretended she was still my teacher and she punished me for being ‘out of uniform’. I didn’t mind. If it helped her, I was fine with it. But after we were done she asked me if I wanted to make a regular thing of it and, of course, I told her I did. She then asked me if I wouldn’t mind getting myself a school uniform and playing the role properly in future.

“My old uniform from St Anne’s didn’t fit me anymore and I had to have a new one made. It was easy enough, though, and I wound up with a few of them, actually. Although I never saw Julia at Miss Bainbridge’s, she apparently did the same. Act as a schoolgirl, I mean. I am sure it helped Miss Bainbridge perform her duties. She really got back into her old role; probably back in her comfort zone, I suppose. Neither Julia nor I minded.”

Matron said, “I think I understand. By any chance do you still have these uniforms?”

“Yes, of course. I have several of the damned things in my wardrobe,” she laughed. “Is that what you want? Would it help if I wore a school uniform? I am sure Julia would too, if that is what you want.”

Matron thought for a moment, then after a short pause said, “Would you mind? If I do this, I would somehow like to remain in control. Maintain an air of authority rather than just have you bend over and me whacking you as though we were friends. Somehow it wouldn’t be as natural. Don’t worry, I could still do it but perhaps, at least for this first time, if we could maintain the sort of setting where I did discipline the girls last year. It would help. I am assuming that if it all goes well this could become a more regular thing?”

“A regular thing? Oh, that would be incredible, if you mean it.”

“Well let’s see how Friday goes. I am not promising but, perhaps like Miss Bainbridge, I might find it quite entertaining too,” laughed Matron. “So long as it is you two who have the sore bottoms and not me, and that we can keep a tight lid on our activities, it might be fun. There is one thing though.”

“Oh, I want to do anything that will help make you comfortable.”

“Well,” began Matron. “Obviously the two of you won’t want to arrive in school uniform. It would look strange and though I don’t have close neighbours, there is no sense in taking chances. You can change into your uniforms when you arrive. I have a spare bedroom where you are welcome to change. But I was thinking that it would help me, at least if from the moment you were in uniform, you would stay in role; that is, of girls sent to me for discipline. I could then easily get into my own role as the one who will punish you both. I would then insist on you both behaving and accepting what you have coming.

“I do not want to go around chasing you while you act the fool. You are two older professional women. Julia is older than me and you and I, I suppose, are the same age. Dealing with such is completely beyond my experience and I would feel uncomfortable. Whereas, if you assume the role of two rather frightened schoolgirls who are about to undergo a formal punishment, I think I know what to do and can act the part.

“Possibly in future, after I have some experience of what to expect, we can do something different, but for now I will be as anxious as you, probably more so since you and Julia know each other and have obviously had prior experience.

“Of course, once the deed is done and both your backsides are sufficiently sore, then we can relax, perhaps have dinner together and talk about it. But until then, once you are both in uniform, you have to promise me that you will be obedient to my wishes. If not, I shall halt the proceedings and it will be over.”

Helen had listened carefully to the woman on the phone. She understood that the woman was both excited, yet very nervous about what she was being asked to do. She realised that someone who had never done anything like this, at least for reasons other than simple discipline, might have a hard time with it. In fact, she had been surprised when Julia called and told her that Matron had even listened to her, let alone actually agreeing to what had been proposed. Clearly, this woman was a very interesting person in her own right and Helen was starting to wonder if she might be attracted to her. She was obviously intelligent as well as curious and a little excited at what had been proposed.

“Matron, if I may be frank,” she began, “I think your proposal is an excellent one. I know I can speak for Julia when we say our only objective is to feel the stimulation that only a good caning can produce. Playing the fool, making your life harder or miserable, is the last thing we would want to do. I agree that it would be better for us to get dressed after we arrive, but from then on, until you say otherwise, we shall both put ourselves firmly in your hands. You are doing us an incredible favour and it is the least we can do in return.

“Of course, when it is over and we have had a little recovery period, we would enjoy talking about it, perhaps over a glass of wine. I know I shall be interested to hear your thoughts about it and how we could make it better, perhaps. But trust me, and Julia will feel the same, we are incredibly grateful and will do our best as so far as it is within our powers, to help you enjoy it as much as we will.”

“In that case, Helen, I will enjoy hosting this little caning party on Friday afternoon, and look forward to your arrival. The only question now is how I can punish you both if you are late and forget to bring a cane,” she laughed.

Helen laughed in return. “Fear not, Matron, I shall bring a selection of canes and toys and we will do our damnedest to be on time. Oh, and by the way, do you want us to call you Matron, or Ma’am when we arrive?”

“What did you call Miss Bainbridge?”

“I called her Miss Bainbridge and I expect Julia did the same.”

“Very well, call me Matron when you arrive. To help you, I shall wear the uniform I wear for work. When it is over, well then, I would hope you, both call me Diana.”

“Very well, Diana,” laughed Helen. “I will say my goodbyes to you now and will greet you as Matron when we arrive. Till Friday, stay safe and well and enjoy your continuing holiday.”

*          *          *

It was the following day, Thursday, as Matron was thinking about the little event she would hold at her home the following afternoon when she suddenly realised that she had no idea how many strokes either woman either wanted or expected to receive. It was pretty obvious that both were experienced at receiving this type of corporal punishment so they could both probably tolerate a fairly severe punishment that she might have dished out to one of the older girls the year before. The question of how much they wanted or expected, though, was difficult. She was tempted to call Mrs Davis, but she knew that by doing so she would lose a little control.

It was bad enough that she didn’t have her own implements, something she would correct if she ever did this again at home, but now the weather made that rather difficult. It wasn’t as though she could go to the hardware shop in the village and get one. A drive over to the school would be somewhat useless. There was no one there and, though she had keys to her own office, she knew the school itself was locked. The caretaker and his wife were also out of the country for the Christmas break.

She could have kicked herself for not asking Helen at least how many strokes she wanted. Then it would have been simple, but calling back now would suggest a weakness, and she would rather just do what she wanted and not let either of the two sisters off the hook. She wanted to be in control throughout and that was part of the fun of this ridiculous exercise. She didn’t even know what crimes they had committed to deserve this punishment.

Then she grinned to herself when she realised that neither did they! She would make up their crimes for them and award their punishments. She would deliver a suitable punishment efficiently and brook no argument. Later, when it was all over, she decided to ask them how good a job she had done and see if either of them would ever want a repeat performance in future. On balance, she sort of hoped they would. Helen had a particularly interesting voice and she looked forward to meeting a barrister who also enjoyed some spanking.

She spent the rest of the day re-arranging her furniture and making a further trip to the village grocery store to buy some food and refreshments for after the big event.

*          *          *

All Friday it continued to snow, and with the blizzard conditions, she wondered if the two women would even show up. She kept her phone close but no one rang. Either neither woman would arrive and be so rude as not to let her know, or they would arrive without announcement. In truth, she was a little miffed that neither one made a courtesy call to let her know if their plans had changed because of the weather. For some reason, Matron felt a little grumpy and when, at one-thirty she did actually change into the uniform she wore for work, she felt a little silly. Likely enough, they would not arrive and she had dressed and re-arranged her furniture for nothing.

At ten minutes to two o’clock, a white Range Rover pulled onto the virgin snow of her driveway; its big tyres making surprisingly light work of the snow. Matron felt a little better, but then remained puzzled when the lights remained on, the windshield wipers kept slapping back and forth keeping the snow at bay, and no one got out. Looking past the curtains of her bay window, she couldn’t really see inside the car and had no clue if one or both women were inside or even if it was either of them. For all she knew, it was someone else lost in the terrible conditions, but she was reluctant to go outside and let them see her in her uniform because she knew her dress was somewhat old-fashioned by modern nursing standards, though it did re-assure the girls at school that she was a ‘real’ nurse.

After five minutes, no one had gotten out and she was becoming annoyed. Were they really going to wait inside the car till exactly two o’clock in a rather silly attempt to be punctual?

A few minutes later with only one minute left to go, she saw a black Mercedes struggling up the lane, sliding around and almost skidding off the road. The driver was doing a heck of a job muscling the car around in the deep snow and, finally, right at two o’clock, it managed to slide in next to the Range Rover. Immediately, the door opened and a small woman in a fur coat and one of those Russian fur hats emerged at the same time as Mrs Davis emerged from her Range Rover. Both managed to get large bags from their cars and trudge up to her front door.

Matron checked her cap in the dining room mirror and then answered the door with both women entering, knocking snow from their boots on the outside doormat before entering amidst the still swirling snow.

Mrs Davis smiled and said, “Hello Matron. I do hope we are not late. This is my sister, Helen. I waited in the car until Helen arrived in case she needed help getting towed up the lane.”

“Hello Mrs Davis and Miss Samuels, I am glad you were able to make it. You are both amazingly punctual. It is exactly two o’clock. Why don’t you both take off your coats and hang them here at the bottom of the stairs? Do not worry about your shoes. It is only snow. I trust you have brought the suitable clothes we talked about?”

“Yes, we both have, and Hello Matron,” said Helen. “I am so thrilled to meet you. Sorry about pushing the time to the limit. We are both generally very punctual. My original plan was to first drive over to Julia’s and then we would both come in her Range Rover, even though my flat isn’t that far from here. We thought it would be fun to come together. However, it was pretty obvious soon after I set off that I wasn’t going to make it to Julia’s in time without making us both late. So, I called her and told her to drive over here on her own and I would do the same. But when I saw the lane at the bottom of the hill I began to have my doubts. Fortunately, the good old Merc made it. Anyway,” she continued as she shrugged off her coat, “these are yours. Please keep them and use anything you like. I think you will find everything you need.” She smiled as she handed Matron a soft zippered canvas case that was about a foot wide and perhaps three feet long and a couple of inches wide with a pair of leather carrying handles.

As Helen removed her hat, she shook out her blonde tresses that looked almost golden in the light of the hallway reflected off the snow outside. With her blue eyes and trim figure, she was much smaller than her sister who was only an inch shorter than Matron’s six feet two inches. In fact, Matron guessed Helen to be only five feet three inches, yet she was one of the most beautiful women Matron had ever seen. She had piercing blue eyes that literally shone with mischief and intelligence, something a little reminiscent of Cathy Davis, perhaps. Matron knew she would like Helen as a friend. However, that would have to be something for the future.

She took the proffered case and said, “Thank you Helen. I do not think I need to keep them. However, I shall make sure some of them are put to good use this afternoon. Now, why don’t the pair of you run along up the stairs? Take the first room on the right and you can change. I advise you to also use the bathroom, which is at the top of the stairs, before we get started. I shall give you fifteen minutes to get presentable and then I would like you to go through into my dining room which is to the right of the stairs, just over there. You will remain there, standing and not talking, till I arrive. Any questions?”

She could see both women were a little surprised at the speech she had rehearsed several times in her mind, but they both shook their heads and she watched as they went upstairs with the taller Julia leading the way.

Matron was surprised to find she was quite nervous. It was almost like her first day as the school disciplinarian, over five years ago, when she had literally grasped her courage with both hands and taken a third-year girl over her lap and spanked her for being disruptive in a history class. Indeed, it had taken her a couple of years to get over her nerves and use the cane without quaking every time she picked it up. The two women upstairs were far more used to these conditions than her, and she hoped that she wouldn’t make a hash of it or make a fool of herself.

She went into the kitchen and wondered whether she should make herself a cup of tea. It would settle her nerves, but, on the other hand, she didn’t want to be in the middle of it when the two women appeared. She grinned to herself; she needed to get her act together.

On impulse, she unzipped the canvas case that Helen had given her. It contained three school type canes with classic crook handles. One was little whippy two-foot-long junior cane. The other two were standard senior school canes made of rattan, thirty-three inches long and five-sixteenths of an inch thick. She knew they packed a mighty wallop, and even though Cathy had enjoyed her own senior cane at the school, it had still left vivid double tramline-like marks on her bottom. There were also two other canes in the bag. One was about three feet long, made of darkly polished rattan, some three-eighths of an inch thick and quite a bit denser than the senior school canes. It was also much heavier than the school variety. Equipped with a straight red wooden handle, Matron knew it would cause considerable damage to a woman’s backside. She wondered if Helen really expected her to use it.

The last cane was similar in size to the thick rattan cane. However, it was made of some sort of heavy plastic such as nylon, rather than wood. It, too, had a wooden handle, and the whole thing was possibly more flexible and definitely heavier than all the wooden canes. There was no way she would ever use something like that.

The case also contained a stout strip of black leather about two inches wide that seemed to be from a man’s leather belt. It was about thirty inches long but there were no holes in it and no buckle. There were also two leather tawses similar to what Matron had been given when she became the disciplinarian of St. Anne’s School. Those were still in the cabinet in her office from her previous years. The only difference between the two in the bag was that one was divided into two tails and the other, three. They were of similar weight and length and Matron doubted that they would really cause much difference in the pain they produced, whether applied to a girl’s bottom or to her hand. The final item was a leather spanking paddle similar to what she had temporarily confiscated from Cathy when she had found it hidden in Cathy’s bedside drawer, and that she had returned to Cathy at the end of half term.

She smiled as she looked as these punishment instruments or ‘toys’, as Helen had called them. Toys seemed an odd euphemism to use but she selected one of the senior school canes, testing its flexibility and weight, and waving it sharply through the air a couple of times. It would do.

She replaced the other canes in the bag, zipped it up and put it on the kitchen table. She then looked at the clock. Only five minutes had passed since the two sisters had gone upstairs.

The wait seemed interminable. She watched a robin on a watering can outside in her back garden and wondered why she had agreed to this nonsense. What had she been thinking? She was a registered nurse, with a very responsible career at an excellent private school, and here she was risking kinky activities with two women she barely knew. She had always known there was a dark side to inflicting corporal punishment on schoolgirls, and had a sense of relief when in the middle of last summer, the board of governors had eliminated it. It was true that standards had fallen, by quite a large margin in fact, but at least she wasn’t directly responsible for that and it had made her life easier. Except, of course, with Cathy Davis.

She looked at the clock again; had it really only been ten minutes? The snow was still falling. She thought back to the time she had first caned Cathy. It had been the first time she had caned anyone for a reason that had nothing to do with punishment. She had supposed that Cathy wanted to enjoy it and she had deliberately done her best to try to ensure Cathy would come to her senses. She had been heartened when Cathy eventually screamed in pain, but only after five strokes, and then had been somewhat crushed when, only two minutes later, Cathy was gushingly thanking her and trying to get her to promise that she would do it again, sometime in the future. A promise she had fulfilled on the last day of term. The thing is, as she admitted to herself, particularly on the last occasion, she knew she had enjoyed it. And she knew she would enjoy this, just as soon as she got over her nerves.

Suddenly it was as though there was a herd of galloping elephants coming down her stairs. She grinned. Schoolgirls indeed! She gave them another three minutes to sweat it out in her dining room while she watched the second hand on the kitchen clock. It was time.

Taking confident steps, she strode from the kitchen down her hall where she stopped and deposited the cane on the leather settee in her living room, and then continued down the hall and opened the door into the dining room. She had previously removed all of the dining room chairs but for two that she had placed by the table on the same side, but as far as possible from each other. In front of each chair were several sheets of lined paper, an index card that she had already written on, and a fountain pen. She was vaguely amused to see both sisters sitting in a chair. They were identically dressed in St. Anne’s school uniform; white long sleeved collared shirts, striped navy and silver ties and dark navy gymslips. Julia had a green woollen ribbon tied around her waist and Helen had a similar red one. Both jumped up when she entered.

“I thought I told you to stand and wait for me in here. Can’t you two even obey a simple instruction?”

They both looked at the floor and Julia actually flushed bright red.

“Yes Matron; sorry Matron,” they recited in unison.

“You will both be awarded an extra two strokes at the end of your punishments. Perhaps it will help you follow instructions better next time,” said Matron. “As it is, you are both here today to be caned; a duty I find distasteful in the extreme, but one I intend to carry out to my best ability. You were both caught in the act of cheating in the matter of a test and deserve to be severely punished.”

She looked sharply at Julia, who seemed to be cowering slightly despite the fact that she was nearly as tall as Matron. “You, Miss Samuels, were caught red-handed giving copies of the answers to a history test to your younger sister here. And you,” she looked at Helen, “are equally guilty since you have admitted asking her to steal them for you when she was in a tutorial with Miss Tomkins, your history teacher, and who just happened to be her history tutor.

“I know you have both apologised for your disgraceful behaviour to Miss Tompkins and also the headmistress, and I suppose the headmistress has seen fit to send you to me for the cane rather than to expel you. I suspect you have both been a bit lucky, though I am sure your otherwise excellent academic records and the fact that you readily admitted your guilt have helped.

“However, I suspect that by the end of these proceedings you may believe your luck has actually run out and that expulsion might have been the better option. Still, here is how we shall proceed. On my command, you will sit down in these chairs and, with the pens and paper that have been provided, you will first write your names and the date at the top of the page and then commence writing the following words, ‘As long as I live, I promise never to cheat on an examination ever again’.

“This line is to be written in your best handwriting, exactly how it is written on the index cards in front of you. You will number each line and complete each one on a separate line of the paper. It is imperative that you write these lines as neatly and as accurately as possible. You will continue to do this until I tell you to stop. When I see that you are both following my instructions, I shall go through that door,” she said, nodding with her head towards the door that connected her living and dining rooms, “into the punishment room where I shall prepare for your caning. When I am ready, I shall call out to you, Miss Julia Samuels. You will immediately put down your pen and cap it and then come through the door, leaving it open an inch so your partner in crime can hear your distress. You will bring your written work with you, lest your sister is tempted to see how much work you have completed. Once in there, you will follow my instructions carefully and you will be given six firm strokes with the cane. If you do not follow my commands to the letter, you will also receive additional penalty strokes. When we are done, you will return in here with your papers, sit down on your chair and continue working on your lines. I shall then call for you, Miss Helen Samuels, and you will cap your pen and enter the punishment room, once again bringing your work with you. You will then follow the exact same procedure as your sister.

“You will also be given six strokes of the cane plus penalty strokes if you fail to be obedient. When we are done, you will return here, sit down and continue working on your own lines. At which point I shall again call for you,” Matron specifically looked at Julia, “and you will enter the punishment room, once again bringing your work with you, for a further six strokes plus any penalties. Finally, it will be your turn again, Miss Helen, while your sister continues writing her lines.

“After your second caning is over, you will each be given a further twenty minutes to continue writing, whereupon I shall collect and mark your papers. During this time, you may use the bathroom or take refreshment in the kitchen.

“As for the marking, I shall delete any line I consider of poor quality, whether it be for poor or untidy handwriting, failure to correctly write the line, spelling errors, failure to correctly punctuate, or indeed any flaw I find. I shall then total up each of your acceptable lines and whoever has the most may consider her punishment complete. The loser will then be taken one more time into the punishment room and given the same number of cane strokes as the difference in the scores.

“To prevent collusion, you will remain absolutely silent while in this room and you are positioned so as to avoid cheating by seeing each other’s work. Do you have any questions?”

She was pleased to see that Julia, at least, had turned pale and even Helen didn’t appear too happy.

“Very well, be seated and uncap your pens. You may begin your writing. Remember to write on the top line of each page, your name and the date. Miss Julia, I shall call for you shortly.”

She waited long enough for them to get started and was pleased she had seated them far enough apart that they really shouldn’t be able to see each other’s work unless they were to get out of their seats. They both seemed to be fairly industrious, bending to her wishes and concentrating on writing their lines.

Matron then went through into her living room and placed the cane on the leather cushions of the settee. She quickly checked that there was no one outside in the lane who could possibly see past her curtains, though it was blizzard conditions outside. The Merc that Helen had arrived in was pretty snowed in, but there was little to be done about it now so she shrugged her shoulders and went through the door from her lounge into the dining room and saw both the women hard at work.

She said, “Miss Julia Samuels. Cap your pen and put it down. Stand and come into the punishment room and bring your work with you.”

 

Mrs Davis stood and, looking a little sheepish and faintly ridiculous in her school uniform, followed Matron into the living room. She looked at Matron uncertainly who said, “It is imperative that you follow my instructions to the letter. Give me your work and reach under the hem of your gymslip and pull your knickers to your knees.”

She took the papers, placing them on a side table, and watched as the older woman turned beetroot red in humiliation, but never-the-less obeyed her. Matron marvelled that this was the same woman who had twice been in her office, bringing her daughter who had gone through pretty much the same procedure. Then the woman had been confident and elegant and only slightly worried for her daughter. Now she almost seemed childish, scared and obedient; looking for all the world like a clumsy, scared and embarrassed adolescent, rather than a highly capable and trained professional.

When the woman had her navy school knickers sitting just above her knee-high, pelerine cotton, knitted socks, Matron said, “Now I want you to stand with your feet together and bend over the back of the settee. Place your hands on the front of the cushions and hold them along the front edges. Do not let go. You must keep your feet flat on the floor at all times. Under no circumstances are you allowed to move until I tell you that you may stand. Your hands must remain in contact with the cushion, and any attempt to rub or otherwise soothe your bottom will result in the previous stroke not counting and an additional penalty stroke will be added. You must not attempt to stand up. Doing so will result in an additional two penalty strokes and the stroke itself will not count. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Matron.”

“Very well. You may assume the position.”

Somehow a thrill of excitement shot through her when she saw the older woman obey her, presenting her bottom submissively for punishment. A wry grin spread across Matron’s face. Then, knowing Mrs Davis could see her, she carefully picked up the cane and went to stand behind and to the woman’s left.

“I shall now raise your skirt over your back and expose your bottom. Do not move.”

Carefully. Matron raised the heavy gymslip skirt with its stiff box pleats over Julia’s back, and also eased her shirt up, fully exposing her bottom. Matron tried to ignore how rather delightful it looked, knowing it was just a target for her to hit.

“You will now feel two taps on your bottom, then I shall give you a firm stroke. It will be painful. You may cry or scream as loudly as you wish, if it helps. However, you are forbidden to use foul language. Any obscenities will result in the stroke not counting and a penalty stroke being awarded. Again, you are cautioned not to move. I shall then follow with another stroke about every fifteen seconds until you have had the minimum of six. Prepare yourself.”

She tapped the cane twice in the centre of the woman’s bottom and then, knowing that Helen could hear everything next door, she struck with as much speed and force as she could muster. The cane made a loud swish followed by a sharp ‘thwack’ and struck exactly on target. However, there was little reaction from the recipient except for perhaps a slight in-drawing of breath. It was less of a reaction than her daughter Cathy had shown at the end of half-term, though she had been struck with much greater force.

She waited about fifteen seconds and then struck again with equal ferocity. This time, she was rewarded with a little grunt and a sharp intake of breath, but the woman hadn’t moved a hair’s breadth. The third fourth and fifth strokes also produced grunts but little else. It was only on the last stroke that Julia made a moan as though she were starting to hurt. Possibly more amazing was that Julia’s bottom, though marked with six parallel red lines painted in place, it was nothing like the typical marking she had seen in the past from most of the older girls she had caned at school. Clearly, Julia was made of some sterner stuff.

It was only after she told the woman to stand and rearrange her dress that she saw Julia was indeed crying. Tears were rolling down her cheeks and she saw that she really was hurting. Matron handed her lines back and was amused to hear Julia softly say, “thank you, Matron,” and perform a little curtsey. Matron then opened the door into the dining room and, after seeing that Helen still appeared to be hard at work, waved Julia through. Julia settled herself onto the hard-wooden dining room chair and Matron waited until Julia had uncapped her pen and started writing, when she said, “Miss Helen Samuels, please cap your pen and put it down, pick up your work and step into the punishment room.”

Helen seemed a little cockier than her elder sister. She rather jauntily picked up her papers, went through into the living room and Matron partially closed the door behind her, leaving it open just an inch so that Julia would hear.

“Give me your work, please,” said Matron, and she scanned it briefly, noting that Helen had almost filled an entire page with the lines, though also there were some crossings out. It could have been neater and Matron realised it would require careful scrubbing when it was all done to eliminate the faulty lines. She rather regretted not looking at the older sister’s work.

Matron repeated the same speeches as before, and Helen complied exactly as her sister had done. She was not as tall as her sister and had difficulty reaching the front cushions, trying to come up on her toes.

Matron noted the difficulty and said, “You must keep your feet flat on the floor. However, you may place your hands flat on the cushions in front of you. Just make sure they stay there until this round of punishment is complete.”

Helen took the punishment much as Julia had done. It was obvious that she had as much, if not more, experience than Julia. She did start grunting after the third stroke, and on the fourth stroke Matron was amused to see her lift her right leg briefly. Matron waited till the fifteen seconds had passed and then she said, “You were told to keep your feet flat on the ground throughout the punishment, yet you failed in this simple task. The fourth stroke will be repeated and I shall award you one further penalty stroke after the initial six are completed.”

Thus, Helen received eight strokes in all, and while she did not cry out, she was breathing quite hard by the end and tears were running down her face. Matron returned her lines to her and then opened the dining room door for Helen to pass.

Julia looked up and Matron said, “You are both to continue working. I shall call for you shortly, Miss Julia.”

She re-entered the living room, closing the door behind her, wondering if either of them would cheat and look at each other’s lines or even try to whisper. She went around into the hallway and peered around the dining room door, and was a little relieved to see that they both seemed to be working hard.

She crept back to the kitchen and went to the canvass ‘toy’ bag on the kitchen table. It was clear both women had tolerated the senior school cane very well. Perhaps she should try the heavier red handled cane. It certainly appeared a rather fearsome instrument. She took it out of the bag and was surprised again both by its flexibility and weight. She would never have even considered hitting even one of the eldest girl at St. Anne’s with such an instrument but she knew Julia was in her forties and had probably been caned many times, possibly with something similar. Surely, she could take six strokes with it? And the cane was Helen’s and there was even that nylon rod in the bag which belonged to her. There was no way Matron was prepared to use such a fearsome weapon, though she had a suspicion that Helen had felt it on past occasions.

“Still, better not to push the boundaries too much today”, she thought. She would use the red handled one and play it by ear. If it was clearly too much for either of them she would reduce the power of her strokes.

Her decision made, she took the rod into the living room, placed it next to its lighter cousin and called out for Julia.

Julia was a little more nervous than last time, initially forgetting to bring her lines which Matron corrected with a short rebuke. The sight of the heavier cane lying next to its lighter sibling also did little to make Julia feel more comfortable. Matron then repeated her speech about lowering knickers and assuming the position, and was gratified to see that the previous marks on Julia’s bottom had developed nicely and had started to turn a dark purple.

This time Julia yelped on the very first stroke and Matron detected a slight upward movement of her body before sagging back, as though in the last split second she had managed to catch herself from standing up. Somewhat satisfied, Matron applied another severe stroke after the fifteen-second wait and Julia this time made a definite cry of pain. The next two strokes produced longer cries and by the fifth stroke the woman was panting and sobbing.

Matron eased off on the sixth stroke, but still, Mrs Davis screamed.

She paused to allow the woman to get herself back under control and then said, “Miss Samuels, the punishment for cheating the exam process with your sister is now complete. However, you will remain in position for the two penalty strokes I awarded for neglecting to follow my instructions when I ordered you to remain standing in the room next door. Please note that the standard punishment regulations and penalties concerning movement and the use of derogatory language remain in effect.”

She then delivered the final two strokes with the heavier cane with medium force, but the effect on the woman was still impressive. Both strokes produce screams of pain with the last one choking off into long sobs before she finally had it under control. She had heard worse, of course, during her time as the dispenser of punishment at the school, though some of those were obviously theatrical where a girl was making some sort of plea for leniency. Julia’s cries were not theatrical nor overly intense, but they were enough for Matron to know she had done her job well. Hopefully, once the terrible sting had died down in a couple of minutes, the woman would appreciate that she got exactly what she had quite literally asked for.

Matron gave Mrs Davis two minutes to collect herself, by which time she had the sobs under control, and then told her she could stand up and rearrange her clothing. Julia slowly levered herself back upright and Matron noted the puffiness of her eyes and the tears still rolling down her face. But Julia managed to ease her school knickers over her well-bruised backside and pulled the creases of her gymslip back into place. Once again, she thanked Matron as she was handed her lines back and even managed a wan smile through the tears. Again, she curtseyed and then went back to the dining room to restart her task. However, Matron noted that she was notably slower easing her bottom onto the hard wooden chair.

“Right,” said Matron in a brisk and commanding tone. “Miss Helen, please cap your pen, put it down and once again bring your work with you into the punishment room.”

Helen did as requested, with a decidedly less cocky attitude than previously. Matron went through her speech for the fourth time, and Helen was duly positioned, exposed, cautioned and caned with the heavier red handled cane. The first stroke caused Helen to grunt and she began to breathe in great gasps with the air rushing in and out. The subsequent strokes produced louder and louder grunts until on the sixth stoke she actually gave out a long moan. Matron saw the woman was now sweating profusely and the armpits and back of her shirt were quite damp and was clearly having a much harder time with this heavier cane than the senior school cane.

After the sixth stroke Matron said, “You did well, Miss Samuels, and that completes your punishment for your cheating activities, though there is still the matter of you having disobeyed my command to remain standing in the outer room. You will now receive the two penalty strokes for this disobedience.”

This time, she gave Helen the benefit of two strokes at the maximum safe force she could apply while remaining on target. Although Helen did better than Julia, a small scream after the first stroke and a much longer one after the second showed that Matron had still broken through her resistance.

Matron waited for the sobbing to die down and then said, “Miss Samuels, you may stand and rearrange your clothing. Now take you lines back to the table and continue working.”

Matron followed Helen back into her dining room, waited for the woman to sit and said, “Miss Julia, put your pen down a moment and listen to me. You will both now be given a further twenty minutes to increase your total number of lines. I advise you to work as neatly, and as accurately, as you can and be warned that anything other than absolute silence will be dealt with by additional cane strokes. After this additional writing period you will be given a break while I assess and score your lines. You may now pick up your pens and begin writing.”

Matron stayed watching them both work, noting that Helen’s tears were still flowing fairly freely whereas Julia’s had dried, though her eyes were still puffy. Then, when she was sure both would continue to obey her, she left for the kitchen to put the kettle on. She then made a large pot of tea, laying out cups and saucers, spoons, milk and sugar on the table with a large plate of Jaffa cakes.

Finally, she poured a cup for herself and, placing it carefully in a saucer, she took it through to her dining room and was gratified to see both women still being industrious. Twenty minutes exactly had elapsed since Helen had returned to her work.

“Very well,” said Matron. “You may put your pens down and cap them and leave them on the table. There is a fresh pot of tea in the kitchen with cups and saucers and a plate of biscuits. You are free to help yourself or to any soft drinks that you find in the refrigerator. Feel free to use the bathroom if you need, otherwise please remain in the kitchen until I have finished marking your papers. You are to remain in uniform until I return. You may talk to each other provided you do it quietly and do not disturb me while I am working in here. You are temporarily dismissed.”

She waited for the two of them to file out, placed her cup and saucer on the table and then occupied the seat vacated by Mrs Davis after picking up Helen’s work. It turned out that the older sister had written thirty-one lines in a beautiful script. Julia herself had crossed out one line that had a spelling error. To her surprise, Matron only found two errors; a missing comma and an ‘I’ that wasn’t dotted. This left Julia with a total of twenty-eight properly completed lines.

Helen had completed some forty lines but her handwriting was nothing like as beautiful as Julia’s. There were far more errors and, in the end, had only produced twenty-three satisfactory lines; some five lines behind her sibling.

Matron smiled to herself. She was actually pleased that Julia had won. There was no doubt her younger sister had tolerated the cane a little better and it felt right to challenge her with five more strokes. She briefly wondered how Helen would react when she gave her the news. The only question was which cane she should use.

She finished her tea, picked up the empty cup and saucer and the pens and lines and went back into the kitchen. Perhaps unsurprisingly, both women were standing, still drinking their tea with Julia looking the more anxious. Clearly, she had learned that Helen had written ten more lines than her and was hardly relishing the idea that she might have ten more strokes of the cane to come. Helen, on the other hand, looked a little too confident.

Matron said briskly, “Well girls, I have scored your efforts and Julia, you may relax. You completed thirty-one lines, one of which you had discarded yourself by crossing it out. I had to discard two more, leaving you a total of twenty-eight lines. Helen, while you managed some forty lines in all, you were clearly rushing and made numerous silly errors. After discarding the inadequate lines, you are left with only twenty-three and thus, as stipulated at the beginning of today’s proceedings, you will now be given the five penalty strokes for poor workmanship. Please go through to the punishment room and await my return.

Matron was amused to note that Helen was actually blushing bright red and seemed a little irritated, but she placed her cup down bravely back on the table saying, “Yes Matron,” before turning on her heel and walking through the kitchen door.

Matron waited till Helen had entered the living room and closed the door, and then she smiled and turned to Julia. “Congratulations, Julia. Your punishment is over. I can hardly believe how well you did. I am so impressed with your stamina and how you have behaved. You have my admiration for the guts you showed and I can only hope that it met your expectations and that I was able to satisfy your needs. How was it? Are you alright?”

Julia smiled. She said, “It was wonderful. Much better than I could ever have hoped. Matron, you are incredible. What a fantastic job you made of it. I understand why Cathy likes you so much. I am however a little tired, it took a lot out of me, but the arrangements and planning you did were amazing. It was far better than I imagined. Thank you so much for going to all this trouble.”

Matron giggled. “God, you have no idea how pleased I am to hear you say that. I had no real idea of what you expected. Helen told me about your trips to the late Miss Bainbridge but I totally forgot to ask about any details. Whether it was the cane, or perhaps her hand over her knee, or even how many strokes. I sweated it, but my only guide was that you had seen me cane Cathy and I sort of guessed you were looking for something similar to that.”

“Matron…”

“Call me Diana, the punishment is over,” smiled Matron.

Julia smiled, “I will when I get out of my school uniform. Till then, I would rather call you Matron, if that is all right?”

“Very well Julia,” laughed Matron.

“Anyway, Matron. I can honestly say you provided everything I dreamed of. I think Helen will agree too. Miss Bainbridge caned me, and sometimes she caned me hard. She wanted me in uniform, I think it helped her, but really it was nothing like today. This was so real and that was exactly what I wanted. Particularly after what you did for Cathy. Thank you so much.”

“You are so welcome,” laughed Matron, relieved. “But I had better go and take care of your sister. I don’t want to disappoint her. Would you mind waiting in here, in uniform, while I finish up with her?”

“Of course not. And take care of my little sister and don’t be afraid to be severe. She can take it. She is even more into this than I am.”

“Very well,” said Matron, “we won’t be long.”

Matron returned to her living room to find Helen standing patiently by the sofa. The air of bravado she had displayed at the beginning was now gone. Her makeup and eyeliner had run where she had rubbed her eyes, and she looked more like a slightly frightened schoolgirl than ever. The idea that she was a barrister seemed absurd.

“Very well, Miss Samuels, your sister showed that it was possible to work neatly and efficiently with a very low error rate when in distress. Since you clearly ignored my advice that your work should be flawless in relation to poor quality handwriting, failure to correctly write the line, spelling errors or failure to correctly punctuate, you will now pay the price. The price, as specified previously, is the difference in the number of acceptable lines you each provided. Thus, you will receive five more strokes. Note that the standard punishment regulations and penalties concerning movement and the use of derogatory language remain in effect. Please lower your knickers and assume the position.

Matron noted that Helen’s bottom had already suffered considerably. The eight strokes of the senior cane had fully developed into thick red lines, but the heavier cane had produced marks with a vivid deep purple discolouration overlying the red ones. The marks were already more severe than anything Matron had ever witnessed before and she wondered how Helen and indeed Julia had managed to sit on her hard dining room chairs and write any lines at all. But clearly Helen was managing, and she didn’t even flinch when, once again, Matron picked up the heavier cane and tapped her bottom.

Matron decided she would make it memorable for Helen. She whipped the cane down as hard as she could, gratified that again it landed exactly where she had intended in the meatiest part of the woman’s bottom. Helen gave a loud grunt and released an explosive whoosh of air before panting in and out. Fifteen seconds later a second blow followed and Helen let out a strangled moan that she tried to stifle but it was clear that she had started crying again. Matron almost felt sorry for her. Almost. She knew now that Helen craved this. She had done nothing to protect herself. She still presented her battered yet beautiful bottom for additional punishment and, despite her sobbing, there was no pleading for leniency.

Matron delivered two more strokes at fifteen-second intervals, with each one punctuated by a sharp scream. Once the sobbing had virtually died out she said, “Helen, you have surprised me by how well you have taken your punishment. Assuming you still follow the punishment regulations I have explained, this next stroke will be your last for today. It will be as firm as all the others you have born today, so do your best and good luck.”

It might not have been the hardest stroke that Matron had delivered that afternoon, but it was close. Helen let out a piercing scream and then broke into a long continuous sob, her chest heaving as she tried to deal with the flood of sensation. Yet, after only fifteen seconds, she had it under control. The truth was, she was euphoric that she had survived without once pleading with the tall yet beautiful disciplinarian to go easy on her. She had braved the ordeal and she knew that the sensations to come, once the fires had died down a little, would be more than worth pains of those first few seconds following each stroke.

“You may stand and adjust your clothing. Your punishment is complete.”

Helen stood up, eased her knickers into place and, as she patted down the box pleats of her gymslip, she saw Matron looking at her. Suddenly she smiled and whispered through her tears, “Thank you so much. That was simply incredible.”

Matron couldn’t help herself. She smiled saying, “Come here.”

Without a second thought, Helen went up to the woman in the starched nurse’s uniform and was amazed and thrilled when Matron wrapped her arms around her, hugging her. She threw her own arm around Matron’s waist and looked up into her face. Matron craned her neck down to the smaller woman and kissed her on the lips, only mildly surprised when Helen opened her mouth and kissed right back.

After a minute, Matron broke the embrace, whispering, “Later.”

Then in a louder voice she said, “Very well, Miss Samuels, why don’t you dry your eyes in here a moment and then you can join your sister and me in the kitchen,” and without a second glance back, the nurse walked out of the living room and returned to where Julia was waiting.

*          *          *

“How did it go?” Asked Julia.

Matron smiled. “Your younger sister is made of some very strong stuff. I have never seen anything like it. She is incredible.”

Julia smiled in return. She said, “Helen and I are very close. I am very proud of her but I have always felt protective of her, she is so small but do not let her size fool you. She is tough, resourceful, brilliant yet good fun, amusing and the life and soul of any party. She is the only female barrister in a chamber full of senior male barristers, yet she can beat them all. I think she can charm them and juries and judges to get whatever she wants, yet leaves them always feeling good about themselves. My firm of solicitors uses her whenever we can, though it is getting harder and harder since she is so busy.

“Yet she always has time for Anne, Cathy and me. We love her immensely. She is someone special and we are intensely proud of her.”

Matron laughed. “You forgot to mention that even though she is small she is incredibly beautiful, not that you have anything to be ashamed of in that department.”

“Nor you,” laughed Julia. “But thank you and, yes, although she is the runt of the litter she does have the looks and her natural blonde hair doesn’t hurt. But she is no dumb blonde.”

“Am I interrupting?” Said Helen who suddenly appeared in the doorway.

“Yes,” said Julia laughing, “but what is new?”

“Helen poked her tongue out at her sister before she said, “You must forgive us, Matron. We often play a game of one-up-man-ship, and though I always win, I have to respect my older sister and pretend to let her win.”

“In your dreams, sis,” replied Julia.

“Look you two, laughed Matron. “I shall have no bickering in my cottage unless you both want to go back over my settee. Why don’t we all relax and go back to the punishment room, I mean, my living room. I’ll put the kettle on for a fresh pot of tea and we can relax.”

“Err, that’s a good idea,” laughed Helen. I am ready for a comfortable chair, those damned dining room chairs of yours are soooo hard,” she said theatrically. “But I prefer something a little stronger. I brought a half case of red wine with me. It is in my Merc. Why don’t I run out and get it?

Matron replied, “Actually, that is an excellent idea, except I don’t think you can find your car anymore. It’s been blowing a blizzard while I have been exercising, and you can really only make out to Julia’s Range Rover. But no matter, I have some bottles of a Cabernet that is pretty good. Let me get the glasses and go through to the living room. I’ll be there in a jiffy.”

“Err, I am sorry to break up the party, ladies, but I need to get going. I only live twelve miles away but it is going to be dark very soon. I have to get back. Anne is at that party with a neighbour but I promised them I would collect her when I was done here. I am worried if I don’t get started soon I might not get through at all. At least I have four-wheel drive with snow tyres.

“And Helen, if you want to come back with me you will have to get ready now. I don’t think either of us should show up in these outfits. Otherwise, you are going to have to find some other way home or spend the night in a hotel in the village. Looking outside, I don’t see much chance that you will be able to drive the Merc.”

Matron had been listening to this and she said, “Look it is not a problem. I have a guest room. Actually, I have two if you both want to stay over. I don’t think either of you should be going home in these conditions.”

“Thank you, Matron, but trust me, the Range Rover will make it with ease. But I need to get going.  Is it all right if I dash upstairs and change?”

“Of course, Julia. Go right ahead.” She looked at Helen who had a strange expression on her face. “You may change too, if you like, though you are more than welcome to stay. Particularly because sometime you will have to get back here to get your car. They say it will rain on Sunday and wash away a lot of this snow. I imagine you will be able to drive it out of here by Monday or Tuesday. You are more than welcome to stay until then. Perhaps by you might be able to sit on that bottom by then,” she giggled.

Helen grinned. “Are you sure? I can easily stay with Julia, but it would be nice to stay close to my car. I actually have a change of clothes with me, assuming I can find the car tomorrow, and it would save Julia driving me back in the Range Rover, or finding a taxi that would be willing to come out here, particularly if they haven’t ploughed the roads by tomorrow.

Matron laughed. “It is settled then. My only condition is that you remain in uniform for tonight at least. That way I won’t have to bother changing either. Instead, we can get a little sozzled on my plonk.”

As Julia saw that Helen was going to stay, she nodded and went upstairs to change while Helen said, “Oh, I don’t think I’ll mind remaining in uniform. Anyway, if I have to pull down these knickers down one more time I think my bum will burst. Besides, you have already seen how ridiculous I look in this get-up so I can’t possibly impress you anymore with my high fashion. And after a couple of glasses of wine, I just won’t care.”

Matron opened her refrigerator, took out a bottle of red wine and poured two generous glasses. They were both leaving the kitchen headed for the living room when Julia came downstairs wearing the clothes she had arrived in. She shrugged into her coat, though not before Matron offered her a glass of wine.

“No, I’d rather not Matr…, I mean, Diana. Best if I keep a clear head. The roads could be treacherous. And Helen, you are sure you will be alright? We have room at home and I know Anne would love to see you?”

Helen smiled and kissed Julia on her cheeks. “Thanks, sis, give my love to Anne but I think I would like to stay close to my car where my clothes are. You would only have to drive me back sometime tomorrow and my car may still be covered. And this way, if Matron throws me out, I can dig into my car and stay inside until I can get it to move,” she laughed.

“All right then,” said Julia laughing. “I could never talk you out of anything anyway.”

Julia turned to Matron and said, “Thank you so much for this afternoon Diana. You were incredible. And as Cathy said, I do hope we can do this again. Perhaps in another couple of months or so I will need another, err, fix,” and she winked at her sister. She briefly hugged Matron and gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

Matron opened her door and, seeing the snow swirling around, she said, “You are welcome. I had a lot of fun and I am thrilled it worked for you. Perhaps we can do this in a couple of months. There is another week long break for half term and perhaps we can arrange something for then. But look, let me get my coat. I think you are going to need help just getting to the door of your Range Rover and we may need to dig you out.”

In the end, Helen also put her coat and hat on and the three women had to shovel quite a bit of snow just so Julia could get in and see out of the windows. Her last words as she finally reversed down the driveway and started crunching down the lane were, “I will call you when I get home so you don’t worry. And Helen, be good. Diana, please keep a tight rein on her. You can guarantee she will be up to mischief if you turn your back on her. Better keep your spanking paddle handy!”

With them all laughing, Julia drove off into the gathering gloom. It was only four o’clock.

*          *          *

Helen and Matron returned to the house, dusting the snow off as they took their coats off and headed into the living room with their as yet untouched wine.

“Your sister is quite brave driving home in this weather. I hope she will be all right,” said Matron.

Helen plonked herself onto the leather settee, wincing somewhat as her bottom crashed onto the cushion. “Have no fear,” she said. “My sister is a brilliant driver. She has actually won several amateur races in that silver Audi sports car of hers.”

“Really?” Said Matron quite surprised.

“Oh yes. I know she doesn’t look like it, but trust me she is a competitor and athlete as well as being a total perfectionist. You said her lines were neat?”

Matron nodded.

“Yes, that is Julia. It doesn’t matter whether she is writing lines or a dissertation. Her work is nearly always beyond reproach. The funny thing, though, is that she is always praising me, that I nearly always win my cases, but the truth is most of my cases have been with her and her firm. The reason I win is that her briefs are utterly perfect. She leaves nothing to chance and no stone unturned. She is the most amazing sister anyone could have. I am nothing without her.”

Matron took another drink from her glass. “I want no false modesty here Helen. You are both two incredible women. I am a bit humbled. You have both done so much. Julia is a solicitor and you are a barrister. I am just a nurse, a nurse working at a school.”

Helen turned and looked at her. “Matron?”

When Diana looked at her, she said, “Bull shit! No false modesty remember? Before I called you the other night, I looked you up. You were one of the youngest ward Sisters ever. And you are the woman who single-handedly saved numerous lives in that terrorist incident on the London Tube. In fact, you disarmed one of the terrorists and held his gun on the other while fellow passengers subdued him. You then prevented several other passengers from bleeding to death until help arrived. They even gave you a medal, didn’t they?”

Matron grinned. “My you are the little detective.”

Helen grinned back. “Well, I like to do my homework too, though it might not be as neat as Julia’s,” she laughed. “So where did you learn all that unarmed combat stuff where you could disarm a terrorist with your bare hands?”

Matron laughed, “I was just lucky he didn’t shoot me in the attempt. I joined the army after school and they trained me to be a combat nurse. Then after doing my time I went to work at the hospital in London and was quickly promoted to ward sister. But after that incident in the tube, I had to escape the publicity, which is why I came down here. The quietness and privacy suit me.”

“Anyway,” continued Helen, “it was only after I found who you really were that I agreed to let Julia see you. She had talked about you when you had first helped Cathy, but I was worried. I didn’t want just anyone knowing our little family secret. It was bad enough that someone had learned about Cathy’s little hobby. Even then, I was a little dubious, up until I spoke to you the other night.”

“Well, now you have to tell me, did my little efforts this afternoon live up to your expectations?” Asked Matron.

Helen took a large gulp from her glass and finished it. She then looked over her glass with a smile, saying, “I promise I will answer that, though first, I am incredibly curious. You say you have never done anything like that before. So how do you think it went?”

Matron, not to be outdone, finished her glass and reached for the bottle, pouring another glass for Helen and herself. Finally, she said, “Well, it is a bit awkward if you must know because, considering what I used to do up until last June, it is rather shocking that today I really enjoyed myself. I enjoyed thinking about it ever since Julia called and after you called I could barely get it out of my head. It was fun planning for it and I was excited but also extremely nervous.

“I was terribly worried that it wasn’t what either of you wanted, that I was too severe, not severe enough, too engaged in playing a role or not playing enough. I was a bundle of nerves right up until you both arrived. I was worried I couldn’t control the two of you or that it would develop into a farce if you didn’t like what was happening and then tried to resist me. After all, you could have both made a mockery of it when you were writing your lines in the dining room.”

“What would you have done if we had?” Asked Helen.

“I am not sure, to tell the truth,” laughed Matron. I did imagine grabbing one of you by the earlobe and pulling you into the living room and putting you over my lap, but if it developed into a fight I would just have stopped. Depending on how mean you were, I might have been polite and asked you what you both wanted. On the other hand, I might have realised I was out of my depth and thrown my hands up and tossed you both out.”

“Did you tell Julia any of that?”

“I didn’t have a chance. When I had you wait for me in here after I had tallied up your lines I did briefly talk to her in the kitchen and got the impression she had thoroughly enjoyed it. She thanked me.”

“Well, put your mind at rest. Trust me, Julia enjoyed it. She enjoyed every second of it. She warned me too that she would never, ever give me another brief if I tried to play the fool with you. She had of course seen what you did for Cathy. She really admired you and really believed what you could do for her; for us actually.

“I, on the other hand, was nervous. Not about being caned. I was pretty sure I could handle it, and Julia too.  But I didn’t know you. I didn’t know if we could trust you. I wasn’t even sure you could pull it off, after all, you admitted you had never played the Domme before.

“I was, therefore, more than a little dubious, although I admit I was somewhat reassured by the calibre of the person we were dealing with, once I found out who you were. It is not every unarmed woman that can take on a terrorist with a gun and win. As for what happened this afternoon, it was totally brilliant. Beyond my wildest expectations. It was the perfect school discipline scenario. The trick of playing us off against each other with the simple writing lines routine and brilliantly dividing the caning into two so that neither of us saw, only heard the other getting punished. While still giving us equal time to compete in a line writing competition and even then, make sure we couldn’t cheat. It wasn’t just good; it was brilliant. You took my breath away.

“Even stranger, I wanted to lose the competition with Julia so it would be me that got the extra strokes. Yet somehow you had me working so that I actually wanted to beat Julia. Of course, her natural tendency towards perfectionism beat me, but I really tried.”

“Can I ask you,” enquired Matron, “was the severity, right? The right number of strokes, the spacing and the breaking it up into groups of six to eight strokes. Did I do right by starting off with the senior cane and progressing to that heavier red handled one?” She glanced at them where she had left them on the side table.

“Matron. Trust me, it was utterly perfect. The initial sting was horrible but then it always is. However, I have to tell you that, even though I am sore as anything, it feels utterly wonderful now. It is absolutely perfect. Exactly what I have always craved. I think it probably was for Julia too, particularly since she didn’t get the last five. Miss Bainbridge, God rest her soul, was never half so good.

“Of course, you realise, don’t you, that you now have a job for life? It will be interesting to see how you can possibly top that!”

Matron felt happy. The woman beside her was genuine in her delight. She was, she considered, a truly delightful vivacious person. Of course, it may have been the wine. Together, they finished off the wine before they considered braving the outside and walking the mile to the pub for a sit-down meal. In the end, however, they decided they had had enough to drink and settled down to a simple meal of welsh rarebit with some leftover roast chicken. Matron considered that it wasn’t very princely but they both enjoyed it, returning to the living room afterwards with coffee. Matron put on some soft music and with a lamp in the corner and just the flickering of the firelight they shared their life histories and both became a little drowsy.

By nine o’clock they both decided to go to bed, but before they did, Matron said, “Would you like a hot toddy before we turn in?”

Helen’s eyes bulged and then she burst out laughing. “I know I am in a school uniform, but did you just call me a hot tottie? You know, a teenager that tries to look like an adult?”

Matron flushed in embarrassment. Then she too burst out laughing. “No, you silly girl, I said would you like a hot toddy? Basically, a drink of honey and tea with a splash of rum or brandy. It is an ideal nightcap on a cold snowy night. Sometimes I make myself one before I go to bed, and wondered if you wanted one too.”

“Damn, Matron, I knew were you a good ‘un. I love it when the school Matron tries to lead us young’uns into the evils of drink!” Said Helen, still laughing.”

“Hmm, if you get one at all I’ll make yours a virgin. No more alcohol for you, young lady!”

Helen grinned. “When you think about it, most hot totties are probably virgins, at least when they start out,” she laughed.

Matron sighed theatrically. “Stupid girl,” she muttered loudly, shaking her head but loving the sparkling wit of new her friend. “Come on, I might as well make you drunk, my little hot tottie, so I won’t have to listen to your silliness anymore.”

They went into the kitchen and Matron made them both the sweet alcoholic concoction where they nursed it at the kitchen table. Helen managed to let out a little “Ow,” as she sat down on the hard kitchen chair.

“How is your bottom by-the-way?” Asked Matron.

Helen cocked an eyebrow. “Bruised, battered, swollen and hot. God, it feels lovely. It hasn’t felt this way in months. And yes, I know, I am weird, but I can’t explain it. Of course, the first few seconds after a cane stroke are pretty hard, but it is so worth it. Have you ever been caned?”

Matron shook her head. “No. I was spanked on the bottom a couple of times by my mother when I was little and got a couple of slaps on the hand at school. But nothing like what you experienced at school, nor in fact what I ever dished out at school in the past few years. It’s a bit hard to understand. Of course, it is also hard to understand why I enjoyed dishing it out to you and your sister today. Certainly, I never felt like that when I punished girls at school, thank goodness. There, I actually hated it. I only did it as part of my duties, knowing it was a sort of unpleasant medicine that would never-the-less help the girls in the end.”

“Do you think it did?” asked Helen.

Matron nodded her head. “At first, when I started, the previous Matron had a long chat with me to make sure I was up for it. She told me it worked better than anything even though it wasn’t so pleasant a task for us. I am not sure I believed her but I agreed to try it when I took the job. In fact, it wasn’t long before I too saw it work well and I suppose I came to be a believer. But I never enjoyed it.”

“But today was different for you?”

Matron blushed. “Oh my God, yes. Amazing actually. I suppose I like being in charge. Always have, and today I took full advantage of it, but I could only do it because it was obvious that was what you both wanted.”

Helen smiled. “It is hard for me to describe but you have to understand that in my career I have to be in charge. I can’t for a moment let the other side know I even have doubts. Good judges can read you, even the odd jury, but basically, I can never for a moment show any signs of doubt or weakness. But there are times when I love to just let go and let someone else take charge. With Miss Bainbridge, I got a glimmer of what it could be like and the soreness she provided was good. But today…” she trailed off.

“What about today?” Asked Matron.

“Well, I didn’t have high hopes, to tell the truth, although you did sound good on the phone.  However, when you told us both off for sitting on the chairs in the dining room, I felt an absolute thrill. Then when you made us do those lines and I realised you had set it up so as to literally challenge each other, I couldn’t believe it. What incredible dominance. And when you first started whacking Julia I was almost in heaven thinking about what you were doing. I knew you were in charge. For the first time since I was at school, someone else was in absolute charge of me. God, it was so thrilling. I felt at once, scared, nervous, relaxed and yet charged up. Listening to the cane hitting Julia I could only wish it was my own bottom, and then it was. Wow! I know I must be certifiably insane.”

“No more so than me,” laughed Matron. We must explore this more in future. Maybe tomorrow. But for now, I am ready for bed. What say you?”

Helen nodded and Matron led the way upstairs and showed Helen to the spare room where she had already warmed the bed, and even loaned her a pair of her pyjamas. After they gave each other a hug, Matron watched Helen go into her room and then she crawled into her own bed, leaning against a pillow with the light on. She was happy and she considered how much fun she had had during the afternoon. She really liked Helen and her sister, Julia, though it was Helen who had really caught her eye.

After only ten minutes there was a knock on the door.

“May I come in?” Asked Helen, poking her head around the door.

“Yes, of course,” smiled Matron. “Do you need anything?”

Helen grinned. “Well, a big teddy bear would be nice.”

Matron almost fell out of bed laughing.

“I mean, with these pyjamas and all, I suppose I could also do with some slippers with Winnie-the-Poo and Tigger plastic heads,” continued Helen. The pyjamas she was wearing that belonged to Matron were covered in a Winnie-the-Pooh motif. “Where ever did you get them?” She laughed.

Matron, still giggling, said, “They were a present, from of all people, the headmistress of St. Anne’s. I think she once asked me who my favourite cartoon characters were and without thinking I mentioned Winnie-the-Poo. I never assumed she would take me seriously! However, now that you are out of your childish school uniform, they do sort of fit you.”

“Yes, they fit me if you discount the fact that the bottoms are only a foot too long,” giggled Helen.

“Actually, I do have a Teddy Bear,” said Matron. “It was one I got for the Sanatorium at school. I bought it for the junior girls but I keep forgetting to take it. If you stay tomorrow, I’ll get it for you in the morning so you can have it tomorrow night.”

Helen pretended to pout. “But how will I sleep tonight with nothing to hug?”

Matron suddenly looked at Helen carefully. She stopped smiling. Softly she said, “Do you always get what you want?”

Helen stopped smiling too. “Pretty much,” she agreed. “What I want now is you,” she said simply.

Matron sighed. Then she made up her mind. She folded back the duvet invitingly and said, “I don’t usually bed a girl on the first night.”

“Hmm,” said Helen climbing in next to her. “But do you usually cane their bottoms on the first date?”

Matron giggled. “No, I suppose I don’t,” she said, turning on her side and staring into Helen’s sparkling blue eyes. “I suppose this is a day of firsts. You realise, of course, if you don’t behave I may kick you out in the morning?”

“I’ll take my chances,” said Helen. “I suspect that, rather than kick me out, I could persuade you to spank me instead. In any case, I have no intention of leaving. You are a keeper. I have finally found you and I will not let you go.”

They kissed, and then, as they both snuggled down in the bed, Matron turned off the light thinking to herself, that she really could be a keeper. She could suddenly see a future where she really would indeed ‘keep’ Helen.

Matron was no longer alone.

The End

© Angela Fox 2018

Angela welcomes contact from her readers. Email at: angelafoxbooks@yahoo.com


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