My name is Jenny Fuller, and I'm in my final year at Grammar School. At seventeen, nearly eighteen, I consider myself a reasonably sensible and mature young lady. I am fortunate to possess an athletic, fully developed figure, and at five-foot-seven tall, I'm fortunate to be well-proportioned in all the relevant places.

I attend school in Essex, where I live happily with my Mummy, whom I respect and love dearly. I'm outgoing by nature, have many friends, and love being the centre of attention, which, luckily but sometimes not, I experience more often than most.

I have long, naturally blonde, professionally styled hair in layered bangs, striking blue eyes, and a figure that I am frequently told most girls only dream of. I love being popular and am flattered when friends and acquaintances tell me they find me stunning and love my company. To my delight, they usually tell me I have the looks and personality most girls would die for.

I am fortunate to be academically gifted while excelling at most sports and the activities that I participate in. The only blemish to my impressive record at school has been the frequency with which I have felt the cane stinging my palms while being punished for deserved or unjustified indiscretions.

My school has a more than impressive academic and sporting record, which it considers justifies its frequent use of corporal punishment to maintain its high standards of behaviour and performance. Although I consider myself an adult at seventeen, not for the first time, I'm about to hold out my hands for a caning by Miss James, the Headmistress in her study. The only difference with my punishment on this occasion is I have my best friend and lover, Debbie Tooth, for company.

Debbie is the most wonderful person I have ever met, and I love her dearly. She looks so angelic with her beautifully innocent face complemented by her jet-black hair, professionally styled in a pixie cut. Debbie is a much-liked senior prefect, admired and respected by her peers and teachers. Although she is just over five feet tall, I can only describe her body as perfection. She possesses the most captivating personality you could ever imagine, which, with her sublime appearance, endears her to most people she encounters.

Debbie and I are in our final year at school, expected to pass four good "A" levels before hopefully starting a university education together. We proudly represent our county in hockey and the school in most activities and sports. We have been inseparable since becoming best friends in junior school, and our love for each other has never wavered.

Despite being conscious that boys find us more than attractive, we are both still virgins. It is likely that attending an all-girls school while spending more time studying than socialising is a contributory factor but not the only reason we haven't been fucked.

I've been on several dates with boys and rejected many more advances. I certainly enjoyed the physical contact I experienced while being kissed and appreciate the attention I've been shown. I've recognised that although I have been flattered by their enthusiasm, I never felt tempted to take the next step with even the boys I developed strong feelings for.

Nothing had become serious, as school activities, sports, my love for Debbie, and my studies have always been priorities. Debbie and I have always shared a strong bond, but in the last year or so, it has evolved into an exciting sexual relationship that we have fully embraced.

As we matured, it quickly became obvious that our feelings for each other had developed into more than friendship, and, much to my delight, we both realised we were genuinely in love.

I don't consider myself a lesbian but more bisexual, as I find boys attractive, and often, when I masturbate, it is not unusual to have fantasies about being fucked by one of the boys I've been out with.

I have a powerful sex drive, and intimacy is never far from dominating my thoughts. I have discussed this topic with Debbie, and we both recognised that we want to experience sex with men, but we agreed we could never imagine loving anyone more than the love we felt for each other.

I have developed a corporal punishment fetish both when receiving and witnessing the caning of others. I have had my palms stung by teachers and the Headmistress's cane more than most of the girls at my school, which I haven't always deserved. Unfortunately, because of my notoriety, I became an obvious target for punishment.

I developed a reputation for being a naughty girl, and the teachers often assumed I was guilty even when I was innocent. I must admit that I hadn't any excuse and warranted the cane for my unacceptable behaviour on this occasion, which was the harshest I had ever suffered.

Today was a unique and emotional experience for me because I witnessed my beautiful best friend's punishment by the Headmistress when she had her palms caned by Miss James for the first time alongside me.

During her time at school, Debbie was usually well-behaved or luckier than I've been and had only ever experienced one caning. It was an unusual occurrence for a girl to receive a caning only once because corporal punishment was the preferred method to maintain discipline and standards at our school.

I don't know any girls who attended the school receiving fewer punishments than my best friend Debbie because teachers seemed to relish the opportunity to cane pupils for the slightest misdemeanour. Miss Grant, the history teacher, was not the exception to the rule.

She had caned her, one across each hand, for misbehaving in her second year at school. Debbie swears it had been a miscarriage of justice and felt Miss Grant loved the excuse to punish her innocent palms. Although not excessive, it left her distraught, and it took all my consoling to soothe her.

At the time, Debbie said she never wanted the embarrassment or pain of another caning and would ensure her conduct would achieve this. Up to now, she had succeeded, and her soft, delicate palms had remained punishment-free, but unfortunately for her, she was about to discover what a real caning felt like.

Debbie shook like a leaf as we stood outside Miss James's study, hands clenched, tears moistening her beautiful hazel eyes. She desperately clasped my hand and asked me what I thought our punishment would be. I looked at her gorgeous face, kissed her hard on the lips, and said, unfortunately for us, it is likely to be six with the cane.

I told her from my own experiences that it would severely sting the palms of her beautiful hands and, if she were anything like me, would become very distressed.

I tried to assure Debbie as the stinging subsided that, hopefully, as I discovered, she would experience a tingling in her pussy as her love juice started to flow and moisten her knickers.

I continued to tell her that it was highly likely if she could concentrate on imagining my fingers massaging her clitoris, this would hopefully help ease the pain she felt.

I informed her while being caned, she should try to imagine the sex we would enjoy later that day because she would find it to be even more mind-blowing than usual and probably fully compensate for being punished.

As the tears appeared in my poor Debbie's large hazel eyes, I was overwhelmed by my passion for her. As much as I felt sorry for my lover, my pussy was leaking and started throbbing with excitement as I was about to witness the canning of Debbie.

Although I had tried to lift her spirits, I knew from my own experiences the caning she was about to suffer would not only be excruciatingly painful but was likely to change her life forever.

When summoned to enter Miss James's office, I saw the crook-handled yellow rattan already on her desk, ready to be used. I then knew my prediction, unfortunately, had been correct, and we were about to feel the cane across our palms.

She then proceeded to give us the fiercest rollicking I had ever received. She told us that playing truant, smoking, and even worse while wearing our school uniform was unacceptable behaviour at any age, let alone by seventeen-year-old girls who one was a trusted prefect in their final year.

Then, she added that she believed the punishment she would administer would deter us and all six form girls from thinking they were above school rules. Miss James said that she was sure that once our classmates had seen the result the caning had on us, they would be on their best behaviour and try their hardest to avoid it happening to them.

The head seemed to enjoy telling us that as I knew the routine, I should go first, showing Debbie the correct procedure as I was no stranger to feeling her cane across my hands.

The punishment was brutal, the most severe I had ever received. I tried to be as stoic as possible as the cane thrashed my palms as much for Debbie's sake as well as my own.

My blond hair shrouded my face as I threw back my head in agony, and I could not prevent the tears from flowing from my large blue eyes as the cane struck my palm with a loud crack. It showed how distraught I was, as although determined to receive my punishment bravely, I cried out and begged for the caning to stop.

I cried over and over again to Miss James that I was so sorry and would ensure I would be a good girl in the future and never abuse the rules for the remainder of my time at school.

Although I was no stranger to caning, it was the severest punishment I had ever experienced, and the stinging on my palms was excruciating. Once my punishment ended, I was dismissed and told to stand by the wall with my hands on my head.

Miss James then called Debbie forward to receive her punishment. Tears filled my eyes, although my pussy became wet as I watched my gorgeous girlfriend slowly walk towards Miss James and her terrifying cane.

The Headmistress told Debbie she was the last person she expected to punish. Miss James said she had always found her behaviour impeccable and, as a prefect, thought she would be aware of her responsibilities to the school. Still, she emphasised that her truancy was unacceptable, as was her smoking, and the severity of the caning would reflect this.

The Headmistress then told the trembling Debbie to raise her right arm and hold out her hand palm uppermost as her friend Jenny Fuller had obligingly demonstrated. Poor Debbie was already sobbing as she raised her trembling arm with her petite palm lying flat, ready to be caned.

While being punished by the Headmistress, my darling Debbie's beautiful face contorted in agony, tears from those incredible hazel eyes cascading down her rosy cheeks. Debbie screamed that she was so sorry, begging her punishment to stop as she cried that she wanted her Mummy. I could not believe how violently Miss James's cane struck her shaking tender palms.

I felt distraught for Debbie, but her punishment aroused me as never before, sending more than a tingle to my throbbing pussy. My own hands were stinging from being caned, and the only consolation was I couldn't wait for the sex Debbie and I would share later that afternoon.

After being dismissed and hurrying to the toilets, Debbie was distraught and sobbed as we both agreed the caning had been brutal but was nothing less than we expected. As we let cold water flow over our burning palms to try and relieve the pain, Debbie conjured up a little smile and said she wanted me so much her pussy was moist with anticipation.

Still, despite feeling sorry for each other, we admitted that we were both aroused watching our lover's punishment, and my knickers became soaked just looking at Debbie's beautiful face and the welts on her caned palms.

We kissed each other's damaged hands before locking tongues, kissing passionately and promising we would ensure that the sex would more than compensate for the caning we had received.

My clitoris was protruding like a small, hard penis, waiting to feel Debbie's eager lips gently sucking my little friend.

I then realised with great delight, looking at Debbie's perfect face, that corporal punishment was nearly as big a fetish for my gorgeous soul mate as it was for me.

Once school had finished, we hurriedly walked home, gently holding each other's damaged hands. Just feeling Debbie's caned palms touching mine was sending my pussy wild as my love juice soaked my knickers. I couldn't wait for her fingers to be inside my throbbing pussy while her lovely lips sucking my hard protruding clit would send me ecstatically to heaven.

We were oblivious to our surroundings as we kissed uncontrollably with our tongues entwined, so aroused that we could hardly contain ourselves.

As soon as we arrived at my house, I opened the front door, and we sprinted straight up the stairs to my bedroom. I gleefully knew Debbie's arousal matched my own as we kissed frantically with as much passion as we could muster.

We threw off our school uniforms and soaking knickers as I eagerly lay on my bed naked with my gorgeous friend by my side. Debbie was using my rabbit dildo to pleasure my pussy while putting her caned left hand to my mouth, ensuring that I exploded like an erupting volcano. While kissing her beautiful caned palm, my clitoris protruded like a miniature hard penis responding to being massaged by the dildo while my body was convulsing out of control.

Debbie's delicate fingers replaced the dildo, arousing me further until I reached a state of no return. While her fingers were inside me, I imagined Miss James's cane striking my gorgeous Debbie's palms. My thoughts and body were in overdrive, responding to my fixation with the long, thin, crook-handled yellow rattan that stung our hands and my love for my gorgeous friend.

After being totally satisfied, I returned the pleasure of Debbie's expertise with my rabbit, and she soon started squirting her love juice onto my caned palm. She shouted that she loved me more than life and exploded while her body shook uncontrollably with delight. We lay on the bed, purring with satisfaction. We were sucking one punished hand of each other's in our mouth while our fingers caressed each other's pussy.

I thought it couldn't get any better than this, as I was sure I couldn't love anybody more than I loved this girl.

I am seventeen, told by my friends that with my personality, academic and sporting ability, they can only imagine that my indifferent behaviour, which appeared to identify me as a naughty girl, had prevented me from becoming a head prefect.

I'm in my final year at school, representing Essex in hockey and achieving twelve excellent G.C.S.E's with top grades. I am sitting four "A" levels, where the teachers have predicted I will achieve A or A* results. My age or ability and Debbie being a senior prefect with previous excellent performance and behaviour had not influenced Miss James, my Headmistress, to avoid caning us.

It appeared to have the opposite effect, as we soon discovered when punished. We were seen smoking in the park by two teachers while we should have been at school. They sent us to Miss James' study on our return and accompanied us to inform Miss James of our misdemeanour.

Unfortunately, I realised that there was only one likely outcome to our behaviour, and I wasn't disappointed. After the most severe bollocking I have ever received, as I have already explained in some detail, she thrashed Debbie's and my hands with the proverbial six of the best, wielding the senior cane as only she could.

I'm not the naughtiest girl in the school, but somehow, I've managed to feel Miss James's cane more than most. The caning stings my tender palms excruciatingly, but I've recently discovered that once the pain subsides to an acceptable level, the reaction of my pussy to being punished provides more than adequate compensation.

I have only received corporal punishment since I passed the eleven-plus and continued my education at the grammar school. In my position as head girl in the junior school, I often witnessed the caning of both boys and girls by the Headmistress, but I was naive enough to think it would never happen to the impeccable me.

At my junior school, I played many sports to a high standard and was identified early as academically gifted. I sailed through the eleven-plus and had my pick of senior schools. My dad died when I was seven, but my Mummy was my rock and proudly supported me in everything I did.

My Mum Linda was only seventeen when I was born. She has stunning looks and a figure to compliment her beautiful face, and with her youthful appearance, most people often assume we are sisters when seeing us together. After much deliberation, we chose the local Grammar, a girls-only school with an outstanding academic and sporting reputation.

At the open day for new pupils, Mummy and I were impressed by the Headmistress, Miss James, who briefly lectured on what we new girls could expect during our time at the school.

When we arrived home, Mummy sat with me, looking through the prospectus we had received and discussing Miss James's talk. I told Mummy I was impressed with the school's curriculum and Miss James but was surprised how the Headmistress had emphasised their stance on discipline when stressing the repercussions if pupils didn't comply with the school's rules.

Mummy agreed with me but said I shouldn't worry too much as my behaviour had been impeccable at junior school, and she couldn't envisage Miss James ever having to punish me as I knew how to behave myself.

I often reminded Mummy of her confidence in me when I came home and showed her my damaged palms. She told me it was my fault that my punishments were so frequent as I knew the consequences, and she was sure that if I were to improve my behaviour, I wouldn't be continually receiving a caning.

Mummy added that she found it hard to believe that her beautiful, angelic daughter, respected by her teachers when she was only eleven years old, now found herself at seventeen, one of the most punished girls at the school.

I replied that holding your hand out to be punished seemed the norm at our school, and I didn't know of any girls who had avoided a caning. I explained that however hard I tried, I often felt victimised as I did not always deserve the punishment I received.

After one of our chats, my Mummy told me she thought that now that I was a mature seventeen-year-old, it was the right time to tell me something that amounted to a confession of her experiences during her school days and the resulting consequences it had on her life.

Little did she know about my fetish for corporal punishment or my passionate relationship with my gorgeous friend Debbie. However, I wouldn't be surprised if she suspected it because of my reaction when discussing Debbie and my punishments at school.

As far as I had always assumed, Mummy had been a model pupil and a respected prefect at Bush Elms, the mixed local comprehensive school she had attended. What she hadn't told me was she had been caned three times, twice on her hands, but the last of her punishments was the proverbial six of the best on her bum.

This revelation took my breath away as I thought my beautiful Mummy, Linda, had been the perfect student. I never imagined in my wildest dreams that girls could have their bums thrashed, let alone my wonderful mother, who appeared perfect to me.

She added that during her final year at school, the head had agreed with the governors that a policy change that enabled a severe caning on the backside of both sexes would, in exceptional circumstances, replace a pupil's punishment that could result in their expulsion.

Mum told me that one of the perks of being a senior prefect was the opportunity to teach younger pupils on Thursday afternoons. She informed me she supervised the second-year domestic science class as the school recognised it would be an excellent experience and would help her achieve her ambition to be a teacher.

To cut a long story short, Mum told me my father, who had left the school two years before and was her boyfriend, had acquired two tickets to see her favourite group, the Kinks, perform live at the local Plaza. Unfortunately, the gig was on a Thursday afternoon when she had teaching responsibilities.

Mum explained that she had been so excited that she had not considered the consequences of her actions if the school discovered her deceit. She forged a note from Nanny saying she had a hospital appointment that afternoon, so could she be excused from school? The teacher wasn't very pleased as it disrupted her timetable, but reluctantly accepted my health taking priority over the demands of the school.

She said it was sod's law that evening, my Mum, your grandmother, met Miss Evans, my domestic science teacher, while she was out shopping, and she asked her Mum how I had fared at the hospital. As their conversation developed, they soon realised I had fabricated the story, invented the excuse, and copied Mummy's signature on the letter explaining my absence.

Mum agreed with Miss Evans's request to attend school with me the next day to see the Headmistress and decide what consequences my deceitful behaviour deserved.

Your Nanny was livid when I arrived home and told me what had happened when she had met Miss Evans earlier. She told me she had agreed the only solution was to meet with the Headmistress to discuss my unacceptable conduct, but Miss Evans had warned her that pupils had been expelled for less.

I was remorseful and told your Nanny I was so sorry, but being expelled would leave my teaching ambition in tatters. I told her about a girl I knew at school, Rita Barlow, who was sixteen and in the year below me.

We were friends and played hockey together for the school. Her crime had been fighting with a fellow pupil when, in a fit of uncontrolled temper, she had sworn at the teacher, telling her to fuck off when being separated while fighting. Rita told me she had been accused of bullying the other girl by the teacher and had lost it big time.

Just as she did, we assumed that expulsion would be the only result when she and her mother were summoned to meet with Miss Tweedy, the Head. They had readily agreed when the Headmistress suggested that Rita, because of her previously excellent record, was suitable for the alternative punishment rather than expulsion under the new disciplinary guidelines.

Miss Tweedy said she was now in a position where a caned bottom was an alternate punishment to permanent exclusion.

Rita told me the caning had been excruciatingly painful and embarrassing as her Mum watched her crying while begging for mercy. Still, on reflection, Rita said she had preferred a caning, even if it was six of the best, to the alternative that would mean her permanent exclusion from school.

I told your Nanny I hadn't said anything to her before because I had been ashamed of my bad behaviour that warranted punishment. I explained I had the cane on my hands twice, once by the Headmistress when I was younger, but had never envisaged receiving a caning at seventeen on my fully developed bum.

Although the punishment was painful, it was what I deserved, and I felt it served its purpose of teaching me that lying and not facing up to my responsibilities was wrong. She told me she had cried her eyes out and pleaded for her Mum to make it stop, as she had never imagined anything could sting as much as this punishment did to her backside.

My Mum then confessed she was sure that evening was the occasion she had fallen pregnant with me.

She then explained that her then-boyfriend, my dad, had come around as usual on a Wednesday evening when her Mummy, my Nanny, had gone to bingo, and they enjoyed the luxury of being on their own with an empty house.

Mum said she knew once he finished sympathising with her, he would be excited when I told him what happened to her that day at school because her hand-caning stories had never failed to arouse him.

Linda could only guess what effect six strokes across her peachy bum, as he called it, would have on his ever-ready cock. As I've since discovered, she added most men appear to fantasise about girls having their arses caned at school, and I've no doubt with your good looks and figure, you will soon find out it's true.

Mummy said when she had removed her knickers and shown my father the welts on her bum, his cock had stood to attention like a rod of steel. She said that he gently caressed then kissed the punished cheeks while begging to be told the whole astonishing story of my bum feeling the cane as he struggled to control himself before fucking my pussy.

Your father was so excited after hearing the tale of me bending over with my hands on my knees, bum in the air, waiting to feel Miss Tweedy's stick that he quickly entered my soaking wet pussy without performing his usual foreplay and fucked me as he had never before.

It was when he exploded, making me scream with delight, that I realised we hadn't taken any precautions. She said it was just her luck that, her first fuck without a Johnny, she became pregnant, and the only consolation was that it was me she was carrying.

Linda reminisced that at seventeen, she was married with a child. Mummy said she never regretted being with my father and still misses him after all this time, but she had often wondered how her life might have evolved if she hadn't played truant that afternoon. Then the Headmistress wouldn't have had reason to cane her on the bum that day, and it was doubtful she would have been fucked without protection by my father, which resulted in her becoming pregnant with me.

I couldn't wait to tell my gorgeous Debbie about my mother's school experience and that I was the result of her caning at school.

I went round Debbie's house at seven o clock that evening, and her Mum was already out. We hugged while kissing each other passionately, anticipating the rampant sex we were about to experience. As we hurried up the stairs hand in hand to Debbie's bedroom, I said I had something special to tell her.

As we undressed, I told Debbie what Mummy had said, and Debbie cried out that I had made her pussy wet as she imagined my Mummy Linda bending with her hands on her knees, waiting to feel the cane thrashing her peachy bum.

I was soon thrusting the trusty rabbit into Debbie's throbbing pussy while vigorously massaging her clitoris with my eager fingers until she was crying with ecstasy. When she exploded, Debbie screamed she loved me as her hand found my protruding rock-hard clitoris, and she rubbed until I was screaming my love for her.

We both agreed that imagining my Mummy Linda's palms feeling the stick and, incredibly, the caning on her delectable bum had aroused the pair of us to the point of no return.

Before continuing passionate, rampant sex, we discussed telling Linda of our love for each other and our caning fetish and agreed it should be sooner rather than later. After revealing her experiences to me, we hoped we could persuade her to participate in our activities.

Debbie said, her mind now boggled as she wondered if Carol, her impeccable mother, had ever been punished at her catholic grammar school.

She knew from talking to her father, who was in the year above her Mummy Carol at school, that the nuns had frequently wielded the strap on both sex's palms. He added that if your behaviour were deemed bad enough, you would end up in the Mother Superior's study, where punishment for both boys and girls was a severe caning.

She said she had felt too awkward to discuss school punishment with her father and had changed the subject at the first opportunity.

Now Debbie felt determined to subtly raise the subject of corporal punishment with her Mummy, even if it meant confessing to being caned By Miss James and hopefully discovering if Carol had ever been caned or strapped at school.

As we embraced, eagerly locking tongues, while our fingers eagerly massaged each other's clitorises, I didn't think I could ever be as contended as I felt now.