Profiting from the seclusion in the toilet, Sally looked in the mirror at her caned pride and joy. She thought of her dearest friend Julie and how she loved to admire it in tight jeans. It was a mess. She could not quite see where the lower strokes had left their fire. But she could feel her whole lower bottom, from just over her bum hole down to thighs, pulse in pain, and she felt the raised marks with trembling fingers.

How she wished Julie were here now to comfort her.  The thought of Julie had made her unconsciously finger her pulsing inner lips, and that electrified her into action. She rushed into a cubicle, but it was too late. Just then, she heard the voice of the Principal, who had opened the outer door, “Hurry on, Sally, I have not got all day.”

She replied with, “Two minutes more, please, Mrs McDonald, I am doing my best.”

She emptied her bladder with a sigh of relief and then blew her nose on the toilet paper, as she had been still sniffling until a moment before.

She exited the cubicle and washed her face, as best as time allowed, thinking what luck that she had not put on eyeshadow this morning. “Luck, jeepers. I have been caned twice in less than a day and my bottom has ridges all over and I’m thinking how ‘lucky’ I am.” 

The Headmistress, who swung the entrance door wide, interrupted her silent conversation with herself. Standing with her arms on her hips said, “Is madam quite ready?”

Sally apologised, recovered the over-tight knickers from near the handbasin, and ran to the now-vacated door. She had to run another few steps to catch up with the Headmistress.

Frustrated by the delay, Mrs McDonald decided on a change of plan, “We can’t go by Matron’s. After all, Sally as I have to hurry, and her studio is on the other side of the building. You are just going to have to keep the knickers you have for now.”

Sally responded by showing Mrs McDonald the contents of her hand. The Headmistress stopped walking and smiling said, “Ah, I see, let me help you,” and held out her hand for the knickers which Sally passed over. There, in the middle of the corridor, as though it were the most normal activity in the world, Mrs McDonald leaned down and held them stretched open as her newest pupil stepped into her knickers. 

Then the Headmistress started walking again in the direction of the mathematics classroom. Poor Sally groaned in renewed pain as she tugged the garment up and over her now swollen bottom and hurried to catch up.

They had arrived apparently, as the Headmistress held out her hand to open a door. Then Sally’s heart missed a beat as there was a loud thwack, from inside. Mrs McDonald lowered her head and looked through the small glass panel set in the door, and turning to Sally, she had a glint in her eye as she said, “Miss Simms is dealing with a fault by one of your new companions, Dear.”

She then knocked sharply but did not wait for a response, as she simply pushed the door open.

Sally could not see past the Headmistress, but it was plain that Miss Simms was still ‘dealing with’ someone as they were greeted with a whoosh, thwack.

Then, as soon as the Headmistress stepped into the room further, there was a scraping of chairs and a loud and unified, “Good morning, Headmistress,” from many voices.

Sally then saw that about fifteen ladies were standing behind their desks all dressed in the same uniform as she had, facing the Principal.

She was shocked. Shocked not by the immediate show of respect towards Mrs McDonald, but by the ages of her classmates. None were as young as Sally. Perhaps the youngest-looking demonstrated twenty-five. The majority looked to be in their late twenties or early thirties but two seemed well over forty.

Then she attended to what the Headmistress was saying, “Do not let me interrupt your good work, Miss Simms. I’m here as promised to deliver young Sally into your care.”

The Headmistress turned, smiled at Sally and said, “Remember, daydreaming or improper reactions to instructions are costly for that big bottom.” She then addressed the Mistress and said, “Sorry to have interrupted, Miss Simms, I’ll leave you to it,” and walked out.

Sally felt even more trapped and looked automatically towards the Mathematics Mistress whom she could now see finally, as the Headmistress no longer obstructed the view. 

She had a cane flexed between her hands. She was not more than twenty-seven. Redhaired, short and curvy, yet slim-waisted. Her green eyes sparkled as she studied her new pupil. Then she used the cane to point towards an empty desk right in front of her own table. “Sit there, Sally, I’ll just finish dealing with Helen here and then I’ll be right with you.”

Sally remembered to acknowledge respectfully with, “Yes, Miss Simms,” and went to her allotted place.

The door had just shut behind the Principal and it was a signal to the class that they could resume their seats, so Sally sat just as all the others did.

The mathematics Mistress resumed the full control of her realm and stepped back into position behind and to the left of Helen, who had not dared to move from her bent-over position, even during the visit from the Headmistress. She tapped her wicked-looking rattan across the navy-blue and a rather full target. “So, Helen, for the benefit of your new young classmate Sally, kindly explain what is happening.”

Helen, attempting to do what Sally would have, started to rise so that she could face the new companion and say what she had been instructed to say, yelped in surprise as the Mistress flicked her cane sharply across the backs of her thighs. Twick! “Did I say stand up and explain, Helen?” 

Poor Helen put her hands back and rubbed as she responded, “No, Miss Simms, you did not, Miss Simms, sorry, Miss Simms.”

Sally could not see the unfortunate classmate’s face, but gauged, by the parts she could see, that she would be in her late twenties or early thirties. 

“Miss Simms is punishing me because I did badly in the end-of-week test which she corrected over the weekend Sally.”

The Mistress pressed on, “How badly, Helen?”

“I got only six, out of ten problems, solved correctly Miss Simms.”

“What is the minimum pass requirement, Helen?”

“Eighty percent, Miss Simms.”

Sally could sense that Helen was terrified, and a shiver went down her spine as she listened to the display of dominance by the Mistress.

“And Helen, what is the punishment for each 5%, under the required level?”

“Three strokes of the cane, Miss Simms.”

‘Now Helen, that means I have to give you a total of how many strokes for that twenty percent under the minimum standard?”

Helen was more and more nervous thanks to this humiliating exhibition, and Sally surmised that she therefore, had not been long in the school.

“Twelve strokes, Miss Simms.”

“Very good,” said the Mistress sarcastically.

“Now Helen, do you remember how many you have had so far?”

“Yes, Miss Simms, I have had seven strokes so far.”

The red-haired Dominant turned towards the class, flexing her cane between her hands and asked, “Does anyone recall differently? The visit from Mrs McDonald made me lose count.”  Fortunately for Helen, the unanimous response was “No, Miss Simms.”

At that moment, Sally caught a look at Helen’s face as she had turned back towards the class. A very pretty but flushed face. A bit under thirty, she concluded.

“Umm” mused the Mistress and announced, well, let us round it up and settle on another six good hard strokes to finish off. Agreed Helen?

Sally gulped as the poor girl responded, “Yes please, Miss Simms.”

The cane swished through empty air as Sally’s new mathematics teacher returned to her target, licking her lips.

She drew back the cane over her shoulder, twisting her hips as she did, and then uncoiled her body behind the stroke which whistled through the air before finally lashing into the victim’s thinly covered buttocks.

Helen moaned but stayed in position.

Sally could not help but be transfixed by this display. Her own bottom was still throbbing, particularly where the elastic of those darn too-small knickers dug into her. Again, she became aware of another sensation coming back, and as she watched Miss Simms dedicate herself to that which she obviously enjoyed, Sally imagined it was she, and not Helen, who was being caned. The thought enhanced her excitement further and she felt her cheeks flush. Stroke followed stroke and she closed her eyes and tried to think different thoughts, but the next thwack drew her gaze back to the scene happening just a few paces away.

Helen was crying, who would not, but Sally could see clearly that the woman’s knuckles were white from the effort of squeezing her hands around the lower rungs of the high stool, over which she was bent. Sally willed strength and courage to her companion. Soon it will be over.

Miss Simms paused, flexed the cane in both hands, looking at it, caressing its sinews. She then turned to the class and said with a dreamy glint in her eye, “now for the last and special stroke as usual girls.” Sally heard her own heartbeat as the Mistress resumed her position. She saw Helen release and then grasp newly that rung as she felt the Mistress tap. It was an audible tap-tapping and Sally’s mouth fell open as she saw that the spot being aimed at was the very top of Helen’s thighs. Sally closed and opened again her eyes. She felt awful for Helen. Strange as they had not even met yet, but she sent invisible waves of courage.

Then, the Mistress unleashed her hardest ‘special’ stroke. Cocking back her wrist just as the cane impacted. That caused the cane to whip in and Helen yelled in terrible pain. She stomped her feet but somehow stayed bent over. The Mistress licked her lips again as she traced her fingertips over the white line now turning rapidly scarlet. Then she placed her hand on Helen’s lower back and said, “Let us hope that encourages you to try harder this week, Helen.” Then she unbuttoned the ties which were also sewn into Helen’s dress and said, “You can get up now and return to your place.”

Her face was flushed, and Sally was not surprised when her next words were, “Class, I will be back in five minutes. For Sally’s benefit, I remind you that the class is video surveyed, so remain at your places.” She went out, leaving the door wide open.

Helen sat, very gingerly, in the vacant place beside Sally. Sally could not see any camera in the angles at the front so risked whispering out of the side of her mouth to Helen, “That was awfully hard, I am so sorry.”

Helen was drying her tears on a hankie and smiled at Sally. She said nothing, probably because she had no breath to spare but mouthed, “Thanks, it’s okay.”

Sally looked over her left, and then her right shoulders and indeed, there in the top corner over her right shoulder was a video camera. Sally whipped her eyes back front and wondered whether everything that went on in class was transmitted to the Headmistress’s office or had the Mistress turned it on because she was leaving the class.  Not only did no one move from their seats, but Sally did not even hear whispering, so she concluded they had good reason to believe the room was under surveillance, now at least.

It was a very long ‘five minutes’, perhaps three times that, when a more relaxed and smiling Miss Simms came back in. All rose to their feet and said, in unison, “Welcome back, Miss Simms.” Sally did her best to partake at this strange new ritual. Miss Simms nodded and said, "Thank you, class, be seated please”

She continued, “I am delighted to inform you that our Governess has entrusted the further education of her niece, Sally, to this establishment. She has made it crystal clear that she does not expect her niece to be treated favourably. Quite the opposite. She has given specific instructions that we are always to expect excellency from her niece and punish inadequacy with a good hard caning on her very large bare bottom.  Yes, I said bare.”

There had been a few whispers of shock.

Sally blushed scarlet at the reference to the size of her bottom.

The Mistress carried on, “In fact, early this morning, to emphasize her point, the Governess had Mrs McDonald deliver a nine-stroke bare bottom caning in front of all the staff, because Sally had reacted inadequately to instructions from the Governess. Most of us know from personal experience how hard our Headmistress canes.”

Sally’s mouth dropped open again as Miss Simms grinned and rubbed her bottom, causing a few giggles from the back. So not only the pupils but also some of the staff were subject to Mrs McDonald’s cane, and it was common knowledge.

Miss Simms then addressed Sally directly, “You will see, Sally, that we can have a good time here in class too. It is not all hard work, it is mostly, but I set achievable targets for each girl, and if she meets my professional expectations, she can enjoy it. If she does not, her bottom will be on fire often, I assure you.”

“Therefore, I have set you a test which you will see when you lift the top of the desk. Inside, you will also find all the material you will need for my classes. Take everything home and bring all you think you might need back on Wednesday when we have our next session together. The test is not a pass/fail type, it is an assessment of your skills. Do your honest best and hand it back to me when we meet the day after tomorrow. Then I will set a new test for you during Wednesday’s session, which I will want back from you at the start of our Friday session, just like all the other girls are required to present. That is a pass/fail test and I assess over the weekend. Is that all clear, Sally?”

Sally responded, “Yes, Miss Simms, all very clear thank you, Miss.”

She felt a pinch on her thigh and looked at Helen who mouthed “get up” and jabbed a thumb upwards several times for emphasis. Sally jumped to her feet and repeated the response.

Miss Simms smiled at Sally and said, “Thank you, Helen, for guiding Sally”.

Turning her attention to the class again she added, “Yes, Sally goes home to her Aunt’s house in the afternoon. She will not be living here like the rest of us. She will have lunch with us however so you can get to know her then. Now, let us start our program for this day.”

Sally sat and opened her desk-top just as all the others did.

She failed to stay in touch with several aspects of the lesson that followed over the next hour and a bit, but she did understand enough to know that she would probably manage with a bit of effort and guidance. Then the mid-morning bell sounded to indicate a change of lessons due shortly. Two other girls had been caned with six rapid strokes each. The sixth, in both cases, being ‘special’ just below the knickers. It already seemed so very normal that Sally was no longer shocked.

She decided she liked Miss Simms very much. Maybe a lot more than just ‘liked,’ but put off thinking about that until she had time and space later. She certainly wanted to make a good impression, so she gathered all the material that the Mistress had indicated and followed the others.

They had time to go to the toilet, have a drink and head for the English class. She learnt over a glass of something deliciously cool that the English Mistress is Miss Mathews who is in her early forties according to common opinion. She has a reputation of being ‘a right bitch,’ but Sally had enough good sense, after Miss Simms, to reserve judgement.

She was wrong, and Helen and her best friend Louise were right; Mathews was a total and absolute ‘B’.

Sally had only barely understood where she was supposed to sit when Miss Mathews started to fire questions at her. Each more complex than its predecessor, about obscure grammatical rules and about birth and death dates of poets long rotted in their graves. The inevitable followed and Miss Mathews took down and swished her cane. She pointed to the stool which seemed to be an ever-present accessory at this school.

Before Sally got quite to the stool, Miss Mathews said, “Stop here, girl,” pointing her cane to the spot just before her.

Sally obeyed. Miss Matthews indicated with a twirl of her fingers that Sally should turn around.  Sally turned, felt her skirt raised and latched to her shoulder straps and then, “Okay, girl, take those knickers down and off. You heard what your Aunt said.”

Sally groaned as the tight elastic rubbed against her still throbbing stripes. She had to hold onto the stool to avoid overbalancing as she took the knickers off over her shoes. There were several sympathetic noises from her new companions. The English Mistress did not turn and silence them as she was grasping only now, upon seeing the state of the girl’s bottom, that she could not possibly give the six hard strokes she had intended to give to establish the kind of relationship she wanted. At the same time, she could not back down now. She had a reputation of terror that she intended to maintain.

“Bend and hold onto the rung of the stool Sally. Do not let go until I give you my permission.”

She announced, “I see there is unmarked space on the upper part of your big bottom. Just this time, I shall reduce my normal six of the best to three. You will not get off so lightly the next time.”

Sally responded cleverly with ‘thank you, Miss Matthews, I’ll try very hard to study.”

Most of her class companions were relieved at the way the exchange had turned for the better. All were amazed that ‘B.’ Matthews seemed to have a heart after all.

The Mistress, not out of malice or wanting to humiliate further, but out of genuine concern for the girl’s stability at the stool, tapped the inside of Sally’s thighs and said, “Spread your feet, I don’t want you falling over, girl.” She thought she noticed some glistening moisture there but had removed her glasses for this energetic task. 

She took her position and swished the cane through empty air twice, to renew her affinity with the rod’s sinews. She had been an excellent tennis player in her youth, and her arm was still powerful. She had been looking forward to trashing this bare bottom, but it would have to wait.  She tapped a line just an inch above the highest existing tramline and brought her Kooboo rattan whipping down having raised it to under shoulder height. Whoosh, Thwack!

Sally squealed, but more from shock than real terrible pain. She wiggled her bottom a bit and moved her feet wider. This was a caning she could handle she decided.

Miss Matthews noted the mildness of the reaction and put a little more force in her next stroke, again an inch higher. Thwack! She whipped her wrist back at the last second and got a suitable protest from her new student. She decided then and there that she and Sally were going to have many future encounters.

She stepped back a pace, swished the cane through the air viciously. Sally half jumped and the Mistress smiled.  She licked her lips and tapped the cane a few times another inch higher up the bare bottom waiting for correction. She enjoyed this game, but she had, despite rumours, a heart.

She thought it was such a shame this girl was non-resident, but maybe she could arrange a late afternoon detention one day. She decided to make Sally squeal from the third and whipped it down hard just a further inch higher. Thwack, and Sally screeched in surprise. As she gasped for breath, she decided that had been as hard as anything even Mrs McDonald had laid on.

The Mistress came up close behind, covering the scene with her own body, she probed between Sally’s thighs for just a few seconds before moving to unhitch the folded-up skirt from the shoulder straps.

Sally’s reaction had been to spread her thighs wider and push back.

Miss Mathew’s bent and whispered, “Another time, my dear.” Then more loudly, “You may now get up, Sally.” Turning to the class she chose one of her favourites and said, “Sandra, please accompany Sally to the toilet so she can sort herself out. Be back in five minutes, both of you.”

Sally thanked Miss Mathews and walked slowly to the door, forgetting altogether that she had no knickers on. Maybe it was subconscious, but those knickers had added considerably to her pain earlier, with their extra-tight elastic. Her bottom was throbbing even more now, so putting them back on would have been profound anathema. All she needed desperately right now was a cool bidet.

Miss Matthews noted that Sally had let them where they had fallen under the stool. She simply picked them up and placed them on her table as she got back to her place at the front.   

Sally came back with Sandra within the five minutes as instructed. She had remembered having dropped her undies on the floor now but could not see them when she looked. Miss Mathews had been expecting that and said, “I have them here, Sally, come see me before we all go for lunch and I’ll give them to you. For now, please sit and let us get on with the lesson.”

Sally was relieved not to have to struggle with the torture of tugging them up in front of all right now, and said a genuine, “Yes, thank you, Miss Mathews”.

The rest of the lesson involved another two girls getting their bottoms whacked with the Mistress’s cane. Sally began to wonder, as the session neared its close, what the Mistress would want of her.

As everyone else left the classroom, she found out; Miss Matthews had folded her knickers with the crutch out and laid them on the corner of her table right before Sally’s eyes. The signs of her arousal were embarrassingly evident, but Miss Matthews did not say anything about that. She said only,” if I were you, dear, I’d take these and pop into the toilet and sort yourself out a little more before joining us all for lunch.” 

Sally turned beetroot red, picked up the ‘evidence’ thanked Miss Matthews and half ran to the toilet.

Sandra had pointed out to her when they had been to the toilet earlier, where to go for lunch. It was just a few doors up and she got there ten mins or so after leaving class.

She was waved to a table by Helen, whom she joined with six others at a large round table. 

Sally asked, “It’s not a buffet? We are served at the table?”

Helen laughed as did two or three others and she replied, “There are under forty, between students and teachers, so buffet would be more trouble than arranging service at our tables.”

Just then, their food arrived. It was roast pork with roast potatoes, carrots and sprouts.  One of the girls Sally did not know yet remarked, “Hi Sally, I’m Jackie. I hope you like pork as this is lunch every Monday.”  Smiling at Jackie, Sally replied positively and that she was pleased to meet her. They all chatted happily. Exchanging summaries of how they ended up here. Nobody complained about the strict regime, but Sally was aware that they were not far from the teachers’ table and thought that could be a barrier to free expression. Some accepted dessert, some asked for tea and others for coffee and then she was reunited with the full class as they went to a combined History and Geography session. The teacher was Miss Jones who looked to be in her early forties.

As before, Sally had all the necessary subject material in her desk waiting for her, plus an assessment test which, Miss Jones informed her, she wanted back on Thursday.

Miss Jones ‘dealt with’ three of Sally’s classmates during the session. Two got six strokes each for talking in class, and later, right near the end of class, Jackie also got six, for lack of attention as she did not hear Miss Jones ask her a question.  Sally thanked her stars for having survived class without even more stripes added to her existing twelve.

The rest of the class went to the changing room to get into PE kit, but Sally was excused as she had an appointment with her Aunt, the governess.

She did not have a PE kit, but she wished she did as she had a bad feeling that her bottom was going to feel her Aunt’s cane again before the afternoon ended. The thought sent more vibrations pulsing through her. She felt her nipples harden so she made a special effort to think of nothing but the trees and the birds as she walked around the parking lot, where she expected her Aunt at any moment.

To be continued.