The Head Girl has a mixed day

By Robert Roberts

“Catherine, a moment please.” Barbara Jackson, Senior Games Mistress and Head of Religious Studies at the Ravensdale Co-Ed Comprehensive School, called out to Cathy Preston, Head Girl, as she readied herself to leave the changing rooms after a morning games lesson.

Cathy, a bright, effervescent and popular girl with both teachers and students, turned with a smile to face her games teacher.

“Yes, Miss.”

“Are you fully recovered, Catherine? That was a nasty fall on the netball court.”

“I’m fine, Miss. Thank you.”

“Catherine, I realise you were shaken up when Marie clattered into you, but your language was awful.”

“Yes. I am very sorry, Miss. It caught me by surprise.”

“I understand. But that was shocking, coming from a young lady, and you are the Head Girl. If you had just used expletives, I might have let it pass with a few words, but you blasphemed.”

Cathy waited, wondering what Miss Jackson wanted. She soon found out.

“I can’t let this go unpunished. I’m going to have to discipline you. A quick smacked bottom should be sufficient.”

Cathy was shocked, but also amused. She had never heard the expression ‘smacked bottom’ used in school. She didn’t quite know how to respond. Miss Jackson observed Cathy’s look of slight amusement and she was annoyed, assuming she was not taking this seriously.

“I want you to report to my classroom, 4b, at ten minutes to two.”

Cathy gathered her thoughts. Did Miss Jackson really want to spank her for using bad language? Realising Miss Jackson was very serious, she wanted to treat her with respect, as was Cathy’s way with whomever she was conversing, whether it be the Headmaster or a first year junior.

She thought for a moment. “If you think it necessary to spank me, Miss, couldn’t we do it here and now and get it out of the way?” asked Cathy, still struggling to believe the circumstances in which she found herself.

“No, Catherine. First, I want to ask Headmaster’s permission. Secondly, the paddle is in my classroom, and also I think your position of Head Girl warrants you be afforded some privacy. I have a class at two o’clock, so this can be done before the pupils start arriving.”

“Yes, Miss. Once again, I am truly sorry.” Cathy understood and respected Miss Jackson’s devout religious beliefs, but still thought this punishment was rather unnecessary and disproportionate.

“I don’t want you to feel embarrassed, Catherine. You deserve punishment and, once administered, you will be forgiven and that will be an end to the matter.”

“Miss, there is no need to speak to the Headmaster. I agree to the punishment,” said the Head Girl, thinking she had a meeting at two o’clock with the Headmaster to discuss and arrange for two girls to be caned. She could foresee some embarrassment.

“We will do it my way, young lady. You are dismissed.”

Suitably humbled, Cathy collected her games kit and, with another apology to Miss Jackson, left to catch up with her colleagues.


It was fifteen minutes to two o’clock, and Catherine Preston approached room 4b with some trepidation. Four years had elapsed since she last received corporal punishment, the cane from her Headmaster for smoking on school premises, and she had hoped the days of being physically punished had long gone. Yet here she was. She had told her fellow sixth-formers, who were highly amused. No sympathy, especially from her best friend, Marie, who was responsible for her outburst of bad language on the netball court.  And then there was the embarrassment of having to face her Headmaster in a few minutes time.

The door to room 4b had a window, and Cathy looked through it to see Miss Jackson sitting at her desk marking exercise books. She entered and the teacher looked up. She smiled and stood up.

“Hello Catherine. Thank you for coming in on time. I’ve spoken to Mr Patterson and he has given me permission to spank you. So shall we get on with it?”

Cathy’s faint hope that the Headmaster might have overruled Miss Jackson was lost and she moved forward, waiting for her instructions on the position she was expected to adopt and wondering if she would be required to drop her trousers. She watched nervously as the teacher opened a drawer in her desk and extracted a leather paddle.

“Shall I touch my toes?” asked Cathy in the absence of any direction from Miss Jackson, at the same time pleased there was no mention of her needing to lower her trousers.

“Just grab your knees,” came the reply, and as Cathy bent over Miss Jackson unnecessarily informed her she usually asked pupils about to be given a spanking to bend over her desk.

“How many am I going to get, Miss?”

“Two. Are you ready?”

The first swat landed with a loud thwack on the left cheek of Cathy’s bottom.

“And one for the right cheek,” commented Miss Jackson as the second swat did its job, delivering a painful pounding to the Head Girl’s backside.

“Thank you, Catherine. You may stand.”

Cathy pulled herself up. Surprised at the pain level, she gingerly rubbed her two aching bottom cheeks. That was certainly an unpleasant experience.

“I am sorry I had to do that, but it’s now over. Will you be coming to netball practice on Thursday?”

“Yes,” replied Cathy thinking netball was the last thing on her mind at the moment. “I’m really sorry I upset you and I’ve learnt a lesson. No more bad language.”


“Hello, Cathy.” Benedict Patterson, Headmaster of Ravensdale Co-Ed Comprehensive School, welcomed Cathy into his office with a smile and mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Please sit down or stand if you would prefer,” he chortled.

Cathy eased herself gently into the armchair, determined not to show her pain or embarrassment.

“How did it go?” he inquired, trying to act nonchalantly, truthfully wanting some details, but Cathy remained obstinately silent. “Miss Jackson surprised me, seeking my permission to give you a smacked bottom.”

Cathy busied herself looking at the files and reports of the two girls that were up for a caning, choosing to ignore the Headmaster’s interest in her own spanking.

“I missed a trick. I should have told her that I would handle your punishment,” he continued to cajole her, trying to elicit a response. “You must have felt peeved. I would think Miss Jackson is the only teacher in the school who would award the Head Girl a spanking for bad language.”

Cathy shifted uncomfortably in her armchair. She was thankful for the soft cushion. The pain in her bottom was distracting.

The Headmaster droned on. “The frequency of her spankings is greater than any other of my teachers. Mind you, she is very popular with the pupils and parents. They all think she is very fair. What do you think, Cathy?”

Cathy rolled her eyes. Perhaps if she gave him an answer he would desist. “Yes, I think she is fair. I deserved the spanking. I took it. It’s now finished. Can we discuss how you are going to handle Jacqui Spencer and Susan Haig’s punishments?” asked the impatient Head Girl, thumbing through reports of their rule-breaking exploits.

Accepting there was nothing further to be gained by discussing Cathy’s spanking, Ben Patterson turned to the matter in hand. Two girls had been caught drinking in a public house that was out of bounds to the pupils of Ravensdale. The punishment was a mandatory six strokes of the cane across the bottom, one item of clothing allowed.

“It’s open and shut. Caught red-handed. Both admitted the offence. Could hardly do otherwise. Pleaded guilty and asked for clemency. Jacqui has an exemplary disciplinary record and Susan not so good. I’m surprised at Jacqui but Susan, nice girl, but always sailing close to the wind. Six firm strokes of the cane should sort them out. Anything to add?” asked the Headmaster.

Cathy was just about to comment when the School Secretary came on the intercom.

“Head Boy is here, Headmaster. Apparently you asked to see him?”

“Ah yes. Send him in please.”

“Sorry Cathy. This won’t take long.”

Dominic Pearson entered the office and his face lit up when he unexpectedly saw Cathy. Not able to contain himself, he sniggered, “How’s the bottom?”

Cathy sighed and, showing disinterest, made a point of ignoring him as she gazed through the window.

“Thanks for coming in, Dominic. Alastair MacPherson; recently appointed prefect. I commend his exuberance but he is overdoing it. In one month he has sent me five boys for caning. I don’t want to undermine him but he should be dealing with minor transgressions or sending the errant boys to you.”

“Leave it with me, Headmaster. I’ll have a quiet word.”

“Take this one back and sort it,” said the Headmaster, handing the paperwork to the Head Boy. “This boy should not be caned. Get him to litter-pick or something.”

“Yes Sir. Anything else, Sir?”

The Headmaster waved his hand as though to dismiss Dominic, who couldn’t resist trying to engage Cathy on his way out. “How many did you get Cathy?”

Cathy quite liked the Head Boy but was not pleased with his interest in her spanking.

“Two, if it’s any of your business,” she snapped.

“Only two? Bet it hurts, nevertheless.” Pushing his luck he asked, “Did you have to drop your trousers?”

No answer from Cathy, and the look from the Headmaster caused him to swiftly depart.

“Right, Cathy. You have my undivided attention. The girls must know they are going to be caned so we should get it done as soon as possible. Could you liaise with them and ask them to report to me at four o’clock?”

“I checked with them at lunchtime. Jacqui has an art lesson and Susan has free study periods. I’ll go and see them and give them the good news.”

Cathy got up very carefully, still feeling the effects of the spanking she had received just half an hour ago. “Sir. Can I say something about Jacqui?”

“What is it, Cathy?”

“She is a shy girl, lacking confidence and she is distraught. Until now an impeccable disciplinary record. If you have read the report, she was drinking orange juice, not alcohol. I wonder if there is any scope for reducing her penalty?”

“Thanks for your input, Cathy, and I certainly don’t want to put the girl under undue stress, but she knew what she was doing, albeit influenced by Susan Haig. I’ll use the medium cane on her. We’ll get her through it. Susan is a bad girl and she’ll get the senior cane.”

“Susan is not all bad. When I had to pull out of my maths improvement lesson for the first year stragglers, she stepped in at the last minute and took over the lesson. I was really grateful. And so were the pupils.”

“You see good in everyone. Susan is going to get six good hard strokes of the senior cane. See you back here at 4 o’clock.”


As Cathy made her way to Jacqui’s art lesson to inform her of her required attendance for a Headmaster’s caning, she thought how painful a six stroke caning was compared with the two swats she had received with the paddle. She was not happy. She disliked watching girls being caned, especially her friends and fellow sixth formers, but having accepted the position of Head Girl, her attendance at canings of girls were part of her responsibilities. Thankfully, this only happened perhaps fifteen times in a school year.

She politely knocked on the door of the art studio and entered. Taking the lesson was Mr Rafferty whom Cathy hardly knew, but he immediately recognised her as Head Girl.

“Sorry to interrupt, Mr Rafferty, but could I have a quick word with Jacqui, please?”

“Yes, of course.” He called out Jacqui’s name. On seeing Cathy enter the room, her heart had skipped a beat. She didn’t need two guesses why the Head Girl wanted to speak to her. In a near state of panic, she stumbled to the front of the class where the eyes of twelve other students were on her.

Cathy said, “Let’s step outside a minute.” She knew this was going to be difficult.

Before Cathy could speak to Jacqui, the girl was pleading and crying, wanting Cathy to somehow make her ordeal go away. Agitated, tears streaming down her face, she was jabbering almost incoherently.

Cathy took her firmly by the arm and said, “Calm down, Jacqui. They can hear you in your class.” She walked her away down the corridor.

The threat that her classmates could here did indeed calm Jacqui. Cathy did her best to help Jacqui compose herself and she provided words of encouragement. This was going to be a strenuous ordeal for the distraught girl.

“Be brave. You’ll get through this,” were Cathy’s parting words as Jacqui returned to her art class.

And now to inform Susan. This would be less emotional. Although Susan had the reputation of being reckless, Cathy liked her, probably because they were opposites. She entered the sixth form room where Susan was using a free period to revise.

“Sorry Sue, but the Headmaster requires your presence at 4 o’clock this afternoon.”

Unlike Jacqui, Susan was able to take the news in her stride. She was expecting to get the cane and for her it was just a matter of when.

“I can go and see him now,” she offered, but Cathy told her to wait until the allotted time. “I suppose I’m getting the full six?”

Cathy nodded.

“And a ten minute scolding? The problem with the scolding is I just want to laugh and if he gets wind of that he’ll go harder with the cane.”

Cathy went over to the kitchen. “Do you want a coffee, Sue?”

“I wouldn’t say no to a whiskey. Anyway, how did your spanking go?”

Cathy smiled. Although she had been irked by the Headmaster and Head Boy’s interest in her spanking, she was at ease with Sue. She was about to say, ‘Not as bad as your caning will be at 4 o’clock,’ but stopped herself, thinking that would be unkind.


When they all met at 4 o’clock in the Headmaster’s study, Susan was proved correct. A scolding from the Headmaster preceded the canings. Jacqui was very quickly in tears, mumbling an apology and promising it would never happen again. The Headmaster was not an unkind man and felt some sympathy towards Jacqui, bearing in mind her previous good record, but, of course, he had to deal properly with a serious transgression of school rules.

Scolding over, the Headmaster turned to Cathy and asked her to prepare Susan Haig for her punishment. Cathy guided Susan to an armchair over which the caning would take place.

Susan knew the routine, having previously received a couple of canings, but allowed Cathy to do her job.

“Please stand behind the chair, bend over the back and grab the front legs. Ease your trousers down to your knees.” Displaying no emotion, perhaps even indifference, Susan complied. Cathy tucked in Susan’s shirt and then stood to one side, indicating to Mr Patterson that her preparations were complete.

The Headmaster, having collected the senior cane from a tall earthenware vase standing in the corner of his office, came alongside the girl doubled over the armchair.

He stood ready to unleash the first stroke. Silence, except for the tick tock of the clock on the wall, as he paused for dramatic effect. Raising the three foot cane above his shoulder, he whipped the first stroke diagonally across Susan’s bottom.

Cathy shuddered. She watched, mesmerised, as the slim white line inflicted by the cane slowly spread into an angry red stripe that was visible on the lower portions of the girl’s bottom not covered by her panties. For the first time since her lunchtime spanking, she forgot her own discomfort.

Poor Jacqui gasped. Her heart was racing and she covered her face with her hands.

“Yes, Jacqui. You may well be shocked. Your turn will come soon enough,” commented the Headmaster rather unnecessarily.

Susan took the slash across her bottom quietly, but her face was contorted with pain. She braced herself for another five of these excruciating strikes. The Headmaster waited for a few seconds, inwardly congratulating himself on the delivery of his first accurate blow. He observed with some satisfaction as Susan wiggled her bottom to try and alleviate the scorching pain.

She settled, and the second stroke was immediately delivered, this time across the centre of her bottom. A gasp came from the hapless girl. He methodically worked the cane four more times across Susan’s bottom. Her yelps commenced after the fourth stroke, quietly, controlled and dignified.

Cathy was impressed with Sue’s resilience. She had witnessed far noisier canings.

Unravelling her shirt, Cathy assisted Susan to her feet and watched with concern as she gently pulled up her trousers over her throbbing buttocks. As the caning had progressed, Cathy was aware of the welts becoming swollen and wondered how Sue would be able to sit for some time to come.

The Headmaster, with a much softer tone said, “Thank you, Susan. That was tough, and deliberately so. Let’s make that the last time before you head off to university.”

Sue, clutching her severely punished bottom, eased her way to the other side of the office, whispering to the distressed Jacqui, “Hang in there, Jacqui.”

The Headmaster beckoned to Jacqui. “You’ve seen how your accomplice dealt with her punishment. Now it’s your turn.”

Cathy once again took on the responsibility of preparing the girl for her caning. Jacqui looked terrified and was just managing to hold back from crying out and pleading for mercy. The Head Girl guided her over the armchair and, being less tall than Sue, she needed to stand on her tip-toes. The hem of her dress was lifted and fixed in place to facilitate a caning over her regulation-type school knickers.

Cathy stood back and the Headmaster prepared to deliver the first stroke, but Cathy intervened. “Medium cane,” she whispered. Ben Patterson acknowledged her reminder with a smile and swapped the senior cane for the less severe implement.

The caning began with a firm but not harsh strike across the centre of her bottom. However, it elicited a shriek from Jacqui accompanied by her leaping to her feet. Cathy immediately grabbed her and returned her to the position over the chair, hoping this outburst would not incur a penalty stroke. The answer soon came.

“Jacqui, I realise that first stroke was a shock, but if you move again you will earn extras.” The Headmaster was showing leniency. “And we can do without the histrionics. Screaming like that is most unbecoming.”

The second stroke landed without incident. Jacqui held her position and emitted a quiet and dignified yelp. Cathy noted the ferocity of the strokes was rather less than that awarded to Sue. The third stroke swished through the air and connected neatly parallel to the previous strokes, leaving space for the last three without overlapping. Although less intense, three distinct red lines decorated Jacqui’s slim bottom. Painful, but Cathy had witnessed worse.

Jacqui continued to hold herself together as the fourth and fifth strokes arrived. Quiet sobbing. Cathy hoped number six would not be that notorious diagonal stroke. It wasn’t, but was delivered with rather more venom than the previous five. The girl gasped loudly and Cathy quickly helped her to her feet. Her dress fell back into place and, with tears streaming, she looked bewildered, anxious and certainly in pain as she massaged her bottom.

Benedict Patterson, Headmaster of Ravensdale Co-Ed Comprehensive School, addressed the two caned girls. His tone was firm but conciliatory.

“You have both been properly punished for blatantly breaking school rules. This episode is now closed. You are both dismissed. You may go.”

They departed, looking sorry for themselves.

The Headmaster turned to Cathy. “I think that went well. Anything to say?”

Cathy replied. “My aspiration is to become a teacher. That is why I am going to university. But I don’t think I could cope with having to cane students. It seems cruel.”

“Do you think I enjoy it? Control of bad behaviour and breaking rules is essential. You will learn. Thanks once again for your assistance. See you tomorrow.”

Cathy departed. She had forgotten her aching bottom during the canings of her two colleagues, but as she made her way back to the sixth form room she became aware of just how painful Miss Jackson’s two whacks with the paddle had been. An eventful day.

The End

© Robert Roberts 2020