A series of thefts lead to a girl not usually in trouble

By Joanna Jones

A Prequel to “Head Girl?”

The Head of St Joan’s rather dejectedly pondered the evidence in front of her. There was not much chance of there being some innocent explanation, and it was a serious issue. The background was that the prefects ran the school tuck shop, which was open at morning interval to sell crisps, chocolate and sweets. It provided a small contribution to school funds; the profit being split 50-50 between that and a charity of the prefects’ choice.

While there were always minor discrepancies in the balance of the school tuck shop; a few pennies here and there, recently on a number of occasions there had been larger differences of a couple shillings or more, always negative. Furthermore, they had always occurred when Tricia Evans was one of the girls on duty.

Eventually Miss Norbert’s concern was such that she’d called the Head Girl in and spoken in confidence, asking if she could help on the tuck shop every day for a few weeks, and keep an eye on everything as some money seemed to be going missing. She had not at that point added the name she had worked out might be most likely to the information she had given her Head Girl.

Two weeks later a very nervous Head Girl came in and indicated that she was pretty sure that Tricia had pocketed a couple of shillings as she had surreptitiously watched. She was very cautious in making the accusation, but it was enough for the Headmistress. She thanked her and asked her to continue to observe things, reassuring her that she would consider her information only in the light of any other evidence she could find.

Miss Norbert did not indicate to her that she already had that, and that Geraldine’s observations had merely confirmed her fears.

It was all so depressing she thought; both that any girl in the school should be so dishonest, but not only that, a trusted prefect. A prefect who, of course, had contributed to the decision to support a charity helping the poor in Bangladesh, which had been in the news recently, with the non-school half of the profits.

She had little option though, and after having a coffee, during which she had worked with the secretary to check the day’s balance herself, and found it two shillings and one penny down, she asked her secretary to bring Tricia to her office. As she waited she pulled her thoughts together and prepared for what she fully expected would be a very unpleasant meeting.

Tricia clearly had no idea what was going on as she entered the office, providing the Head with a fairly mature confident look. Though unusual it was not unheard of for Miss Norbert to ask her prefects to undertake some task or another for her.

“Ah, Tricia. Thank you for coming so quickly,” started Miss Norbert.

“A pleasure, headmistress,” she replied, and glanced around wondering if she could bring across a chair to sit down in.

Miss Norbert saw the glance, but ignored it, leaving the girl standing. “I have a bit of a problem that I was wondering if you could shed some light on. It’s to do with the tuck shop.”

GUILTY. At that moment Miss Norbert knew for certain. She saw the flash of shocked recognition, of panic, before the girl could school her face back to a neutral expression.

The Head continued. “The problem is that recently the tuck shop has not balanced. Normally it does to within a few pennies every day, sometimes over, sometimes under, but on a number of occasions it has been a couple of shillings or more down. The trouble is that the only person who was on duty on all those occasions was you, so I was wondering if you would be able provide some insight on the matter.”

“I have no idea, Miss Norbert,” replied Tricia nervously. “I just do my job. I don’t think I am that careless in taking the correct money or giving out change.”

Miss Norbert grimaced; why could the girl not admit it rather than brazen it out. “I am not sure it is carelessness though Tricia. One of the other Prefects saw me earlier today and said they saw you pocketing a couple of shillings.”

Tricia’s face went through another spasm of shock.

After a further few minutes she finally part capitulated and admitted to having ‘borrowed’ some money from the float, but that she intended to pay it back. She was crying now, but they were tears that had no impact on her headmistress.

Miss Norbert was merciless, asking how much she had borrowed. Tricia clearly had no idea and estimated it to total around ten shillings.

When Miss Norbert told her the loss was over one pound (more than 20 shillings) she was horrified.

Tricia was in shock as the Head’s lecture went on, theft, betrayal of trust, lies in her office, she did not believe for a moment Tricia ever had any intention of paying back the money.

Finally Miss Norbert got to the point of announcing the consequences. “Patricia Evans, prefects are in a position of trust, a trust you have betrayed most grievously. Give me your badge!”

“No, please, please, don’t take my badge,” she begged as Miss Norbert held out her hand. “I’ll never do it again, please…”

This time Miss Norbert was not unmoved by the tears from the girl as, after five minutes, she finally unclipped and handed over the red crest that had been on her blazer lapel. No, in fact her attitude had hardened her anger, and whatever minimal sympathy she had ever had was gone. The girl clearly had absolutely no idea, no concept at all how seriously she viewed, had to view, this; how close she was to expulsion. Well perhaps the second half of the punishment would emphasise that!

“As I am sure you realise, I also have no option but to give you a ‘prefect’s caning’; twelve strokes to your bared bottom. Go to the corner, get ready and return with that chair and bend over it.”

If Tricia had been upset before at handing over her badge, she was frantic with distress at the prospect of the now confirmed caning. “No, please Miss, not the cane. I have never been caned before. I promise I will never do anything wrong again,” she begged.

Miss Norbert controlled her irritation as she remained implacable, and after a few minutes the pleas were reduced to begging on the severity rather than it occurring: “Please not twelve strokes, it’s too many!”

The pleas went on and on. However, eventually, eventually Tricia was in the corner sobbing as she took off her blazer. Miss Norbert had finally got to the end of her tether and told her that she had no idea how appalling her behaviour had been and told her that any more begging would have her back in this office for a second dose of the cane in two weeks time. It was only then that Tricia had accepted her fate.

Tricia slowly slipped off her shoes, then painfully slowly her hands moved to the clip of her skirt and with a miserable look she finally undid it and took down the zip. It took a bit of a hip wriggle before the uniform pleated skirt ended up pooled around her ankles, from where she stepped out and picked the garment up. She hung it roughly over her blazer. Even more reluctantly she peeled down her tights.

She was really spinning it out, thought the Head crossly as she waited for the girl to get ready.

When it came to her underwear Tricia’s resolve left her once again and a new plea then started. “Miss, can’t I keep my knickers on? Please, I am sure they won’t make much difference.”

Miss Norbert snapped. “I warned you to stop your pathetic begging and accept your punishment properly!” She nearly shouted in fury. “I told you what would happen if this cowardly, despicable behaviour continued. You will come back here for four extra cane strokes in two weeks time, now get ready before it is more! Or do you prefer expulsion?”

Tricia was in shock, but finally realised that she had better try to get some self-control together before things got even worse. Slowly her hands went to the elastic at her waist and, closing her eyes and gritting her teeth, she put her fingers into the top of her thin nylon white knickers and ever so reluctantly slid them down her legs. Eventually she had them hung loosely on top of her skirt and tights. Tricia fearfully wondered what state she would be in when she was putting them on again.

Trembling she picked up the chair and crept forwards to the centre of the room. She carefully placed it where indicated.

Miss Norbert stopped her just as she was about to take the next step and bend over. “Tie your blouse tails out of the way!” She ordered as icily as ever. She was flexing the cane impatiently; Patricia Evans had wasted quite enough of her time today!

The brief flash of hope that Tricia had as the Head started to speak evaporated instantly as she did what was needed to expose her bottom totally. She was already sniffling as she finally slowly assumed her required, undignified position over the chair.

Miss Norbert moved into position to her victim’s left and looked at the pale, creamy bottom in front of her. Miss Evans had her legs clamped tightly together to protect her modesty. From experience she very much doubted she’d be caring that much about her modesty very soon.

As she tapped her cane high on the bottom she heard the girl moan with fear. It did nothing to reduce her determination to give her a real thrashing.

“Hold very tight Miss Evans, I intend to teach you the very, very painful lesson, that thieving deserves,” she intimated coldly.

With that she raised the cane slowly and after a brief pause brought it back sharply high on Tricia’s rear.

A second later Tricia screamed, as her hitherto uncaned body absorbed the impact. Before she knew what she was doing she was standing, facing the Head, tears of accusation in her eyes, her hands both clutching at the outrage in her buttocks.

Miss Norbert was not impressed.

“How dare you disobey me! That’s one more stroke for you to get in two weeks time! Stand again and I’ll have my secretary in to hold you down and it will be eight, not five then! Understood? Now get back over this chair this instant!”

Totally intimidated, Tricia found herself facing the chair and bending over again. She could not believe what was happening. Why had she ever thought it would be alright to slip a couple of coins into her pocket? Okay her parents were not as generous as some of her friends, but did she really need to have succumbed to that temptation to keep up with them?

As the Head had expected her legs were now slightly apart to give herself some support as she resumed the position, not that it mattered.

Crack! The cane had swished down just below the first. Tricia let out a horrible yell as she this time managed to keep a hold of the chair, though her left leg lifted briefly before returning to the floor.

The next six strokes were doled out slowly at around twenty to thirty second intervals. Each one landed agonisingly slightly below the previous, gradually turning her buttocks a wall of red. Each cut from the cane was met with an almighty wail which punctuated the now unrestrained sobs of the girl. The initial leg lifting was gradually replaced with small stamps of the feet as she struggled to cope with the inflictions. Her legs were now quite far apart allowing her stomach to rest over the top of the chair back, and the pose was quite lewd, with light brown hair visible along with Tricia’s womanhood between her legs.

Not that these things made any impression on Miss Norbert, who had seen it all on occasion before. As far as she was concerned what mattered was simply that there were now four strokes to go. The Head had a strategy for two more at the base of her buttocks, then the denouement would be two diagonal cuts across the middle.

Choosing to administer the lowest stroke first she crashed a perfect blow right at the base, where bottom and thigh meet. The timing of her wrist flick at the end was spot on.

It was too much for Tricia who, with an ear-splitting wail, found herself standing and once again facing her chastiser sobbing and begging for mercy.

Miss Norbert briefly glared at the girl, placed the cane on her desk and went to the door. “Mrs Firkin, can I have your assistance please.” She called.

“Certainly, headmistress,” was the reply through the door, and soon Tricia saw Miss Norbert’s rather overweight, middle-aged secretary appear. She looked not without sympathy at the teary picture of misery that was an upper sixth former.

“Please, no, Miss Norbert. I, I can’t. It, it’s so sore.” Tricia wailed, as she cradled her already well punished rear.

Miss Norbert ignored the girl as she picked up her cane again and waited, flexing it as she did so. Instead it was Mrs Firkin who rather gently escorted Tricia back to the chair. The secretary then turned it around and sat down. She then encouraged Tricia to bend over and put her face into her lap with comments such as: “Come on, it will soon be over,” and: “be brave now.”

It was enough to finally get Tricia to miserably get into the new position and, as soon as she finally bent, the secretary took a firm grip of the sobbing, moaning eighteen year old high around her waist and lent over slightly to restrain her more effectively. Eventually she was happy with her hold and nodded to the rather grim looking headmistress, as she whispered to Tricia to keep her legs straight and bottom still.

Tricia just about managed to comply with the order as she gripped the back legs of the chair either side of the secretary.

“Miss Firkin, please make an appointment for two weeks time for Miss Evans to return to my office to receive a further eight strokes of the cane.” She said coldly as she lined up the tenth stroke of this first instalment in the gap between the last two cuts she had given.

Tricia gave a small wail between her sobs as the confirmation that she was to receive a second very severe thrashing was given, coupled with the tapping that was a prelude to the remainder of this instalment.


Tricia gave a scream into Mrs Firkin’s skirt, but managed not to surge against the grip of the secretary who was holding her firmly. That did not stop her legs writhing and feet stamping again as she coped with that tenth infliction of pain.

With the secretary whispering encouragement she eventually got her legs still.


The first diagonal blow was given full force landing across four or five of the existing tramlines. This time Tricia did surge against the secretary in a vain attempt to escape, giving a guttural scream as she did so. Having failed, she eventually managed to still herself for the final blow.

As soon as the wriggles of her bottom stopped as her legs finally locked straight Miss Norbert thrashed down the final blow.

Another almighty scream and surge as Tricia tried to escape again. Once again she failed as Mrs Firkin held her in place and the still angry headmistress paused to admire her handiwork. She then turned and put her cane away as Tricia slowly calmed enough to comprehend an instruction.

“When Mrs Firkin lets you go, you will stand and put your hands immediately to your head. You will then go to the corner of the room where your clothes are and stand facing the wall. Understood!?”

“Yes, Miss,” blubbered the well punished young woman, and seconds later the pressure was gone. She was able to stand.

Her fear of further punishment was enough as she slowly picked herself up and resisted the desperate desire to examine the damage she’d received. Slowly she staggered into the corner, and stood facing the wall. Miss Norbert completed the punishment record and then wrote her letter home while the secretary, with a final glance at the well punished backside in the corner, returned to her own work.

The Head had really excelled herself, Mrs Firkin thought, though the little thief certainly had deserved it!

A few minutes later the Head completed the letter for Tricia’s parents and looked at the still darkening marks on the still snuffling girl before her. Normally she kept a girl in her office to calm down fully before sending her out to face her classmates, but this case was different; she doubted she’d get much sympathy once her friends knew the reason and that would be an additional punishment for her. She had badly betrayed not only her trust, but in addition the trust of her friends!

“Miss Evans, get yourself dressed, then come here in front of my desk. And be quick about it!” She ordered.

Tricia dropped her hands to her bottom and finally could probe the damage that was so painful. She looked at her clothes and grabbed her knickers. Carefully she hooked the fabric over one foot, then the other and slowly pulled them up. It took some time to carefully replace the fabric back over her now enlarged, bruising buttocks.

She looked at her tights and decided that she would go bare legged.

Unfortunately Miss Norbert had other ideas. “If you have no uniform socks then you must wear your tights.” She intimated impassively, though in reality it was with some satisfaction, as she knew getting them on would be a further tribulation for Patricia Evans.

So it proved to be. Tricia first dejectedly pulled them back out of her blazer pocket. It then took a considerable time with tears of pain and frustration for the girl to slowly get her feet in and slide them up her legs. The worst was of course levering the clinging fabric over the agony that was her poor bottom.

The skirt was a little better, though the pressure of the tights as she bent was highly unpleasant. Finally she was dressed and standing, tears still dripping, in front of Miss Norbert.

The Head looked as cold as ever as she passed her the letter for her parents. She dreaded their reaction to finding out their daughter had been found out to be a thief. Finally Miss Norbert ordered her to return to class, and not to dally excessively in the toilets on the way.

Tricia was still in a red-eyed state as she returned to her A-level English Literature class. After a very uncomfortable lesson, during which she learned nothing, she had to face her friends, most of whom wanted to know what had happened and why. The state she was in, coupled with the conspicuously absent prefect badge meant it was impossible pretend otherwise.

In any case, she knew her caning and the reason would be announced at the next assembly. However embarrassing, better to get the worst over now.

Her friends were of course shocked, and a few indeed thought her lucky not to have been expelled. Stealing was pretty low, and sympathy even from her closest pals was rather limited. However, to Tricia’s relief at least some of them still seemed prepared to talk to her.

As for her parents, she did not know what was worse; the hysterical anger of her mother, who stopped her allowance and grounded her indefinitely, or the cold shock and clear disappointment of her father, who refused to even acknowledge her presence let alone speak to her that night.

And still it was not over: there was another visit to Miss Norbert in two weeks time. However, reluctantly she now accepted that she deserved it.

The End