The Writings on the Wall

A girl seeks revenge, but it goes horribly wrong

By Paul Notes

The walk, if you could call it that, seemed to Charlotte to last for ever. The pretty eighteen year old was being frog marched straight to the headmistress’s study.

She had been caught writing obscene messages on the wall of the toilets; a petty feud with another girl over a £3 lipstick. She had left the make-up in the changing rooms whilst going for a shower. When she came back, the lipstick had gone. Shrugging her shoulders, she thought she must have been imagining things, and had dropped it en route to the showers. That is, until the next day when she noticed Sally Smith, one of her classmates, putting on the same brand of lipstick that had gone missing from her bag.

Confronting her about it, the older girl basically told her to shut up and go away. Small as the issue was, it was something that annoyed Charlotte intensely. Was it just chance that Sally had the same lipstick? Despite any proof, Charlotte managed to convince herself that Sally was the thief. By the end of the week she decided to confront Sally one more time.

However, Sally certainly wasn’t going to give Charlotte the lipstick, nor admit to any crime, and the conversation soon degenerated in to name calling and raised voices. A warning from a passing teacher soon put an end to that, but Charlotte was seething with anger. Her mind searched for some sort of revenge.

It was during one of the more boring lessons a day or so later, Charlotte’s mind wandered back to the subject of Sally and the lipstick. Putting her thoughts into words, she wrote ‘Sally is a bitch’ on her desk. A smile crossed her face. It was most satisfying. Over the course of the next week, Charlotte’s anger with Sally was written on whatever wall or desk she could find.

It hadn’t gone unnoticed though. Several of the teachers had noticed the graffiti. Having graffiti in the first place was bad enough, but it seemed to be all directed at Sally and liberally sprinkled with four letter words. So, within a few days it was brought up in a staff meeting. Charlotte, having been warned about her verbal spat with Sally, was named as a suspect, although nothing could be proven. The teaching staff were told to keep an eye on her, and the headmistress stated that, when caught, she wanted to deal with the girl herself.

It was only a matter of time before Charlotte was caught. A week after the meeting, one of the Maths teachers, Miss Stevenson, had seen Charlotte enter the toilets. A few minutes later she went in herself to find Charlotte, marker pen in hand, half way through scrawling a four letter word on the toilet wall.

Miss Stevenson was a lady who had been dealing with teenage girls for the better part of 25 years. She was no pushover in the classroom when it came to discipline and standards. She knew she had to take control of the situation quickly and firmly.

What happened next didn’t leave Charlotte much time to react. With lightening speed, a hand reached out and gripped her wrist, twisting her arm back and forcing the pen to drop to the floor.

“What do you think you are doing girl!” Miss Stevenson shouted.

Without bothering to wait for a reply, she pushed Charlotte hard against the toilet wall and started spanking the exposed parts of her thighs.

Slap, Slap, Slap, Slap.

“Nooooo!” Charlotte cried out, just coming to the realisation she had been caught. Her thighs were stinging and her arm ached as Miss Stevenson’s grip on the girl tightened as the punishment continued.

Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!

Pausing for a minute, Miss Stevenson picked up the marker pen.

“I think a trip to the headmistress’s study is in order, and I promise you it won’t be pleasant.”

With that, she delivered three more stinging slaps to Charlotte’s legs, causing her to squeal and squirm.

“No! Let me go!” Charlotte struggled defiantly.

“Oh no, girl, you’re coming with me,” said Miss Stevenson as she released Charlotte’s wrist and took a firm grip of her ear, almost pulling the now red-faced girl out of the toilets and into the corridor.

“Please! No!” Charlotte pleaded.

Miss Stevenson ignored the girl’s pleas and, grabbing the girl by the waist, she forced Charlotte to bend over slightly and delivered three more slaps to Charlotte’s thighs.

SLAP, SLAP, SLAP.

The smacks were now landing on the sensitive inner portion of her thighs.

“Owww! Please!” Charlotte begged, before again being forced forward at an uncomfortably brisk pace, especially as her ear was now back between Miss Stevenson’s fingers.

Charlotte’s legs and face were bright red. The scolding continued down the corridor, with Miss Stevenson slapping her legs at regular intervals while lecturing her on how abhorrent and child-like her behaviour was.

“It’s about time you grew up, Charlotte. Eighteen years old, and you’re acting like a twelve year old!!”

Smack, smack, smack!!!

“You really are a nasty piece of work, child.”

Slap, slap, slap slap!!

“You’re a little vandal, girl. What are you?”

“A v-v-vandal, miss,” stammered Charlotte, vainly trying to twist away from the senior mistress’s painful attentions.

Smack smack smack!!

She felt tears coming on. She knew she was in deep trouble.

Reaching the Headmistress’s door, she was made to face the wall with her hands on her head.

“Stay right there.” Miss Stevenson hissed.

With that, she knocked on the head’s door and entered.

Charlotte didn’t have to wait long.

The Headmistress and Miss Stevenson thought it best to continue with the corporal punishment first, and then give Charlotte a few hours in detention to think about the consequences of her actions.

The door of the study opened.

“In. Now!” Roared Miss Stevenson, her finger pointing towards the open door.

Charlotte entered, tears trickling down her cheeks.

Before her was a large office desk. Propped against one side was a rattan cane, with the headmistress standing next to it.

There was no lecture.

“Right, let’s get this over with,” the Head said in a business like way.

“There’s only one way to deal with vandals. Bend over the desk.”

Charlotte had barely registered the words before Miss Stevenson and the headmistress had grabbed an arm each and practically dragged her to the desk and bent her over.

Miss Stevenson stepped to the side, while the head raised Charlotte’s grey school skirt up to her waist, revealing the navy blue school knickers.

The caning was a short and very painful affair for Charlotte.

The headmistress picked up the cane, and quickly delivered three hard blows on to Charlotte’s knickered behind.

Thawck! Thawck! Thawck!

Charlotte was shocked by the intense pain. She let out a short scream and then dissolved into a flood of tears.

“Your behaviour is inexcusable,” said the headmistress, briefly pausing the punishment.

“I hope you’re ashamed of yourself.”

With the headmistress’s words echoing in Charlotte’s ears, the headmistress administered the last three cane strokes with as much force as she dared onto Charlotte’s bottom.

Thawck! Thawck, thawck.

Charlotte’s screaming and crying all seemed to blend into one. The pain and the humiliation was all too much for her. She lay across the desk in abject misery, her bottom in agony, and her eyes so full of tears she could barely focus.

Within a minute of the caning finishing, the Headmistress and Miss Stevenson hauled Charlotte up off the desk, and, holding an arm, marched the sobbing girl out of the office to the nearest empty classroom.

“Sit!” Bellowed the head, pointing to a chair.

“For the rest of the afternoon you shall write out 1000 times: ‘I shall not vandalize school property, and I will learn to act like an adult.’”

Charlotte had difficulty sitting, but there was no sympathy. A pen and paper were put in front of her, and dire warnings of further punishment were issued should she fail to complete the lines satisfactorily.

The broken schoolgirl sobbed and picked up the pen.

The writing had moved from wall to paper.

The End

© Paul Notes 2017


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