It is the month of June in the year nineteen sixty-two. After six years at senior school, in less than two months, I will complete my education. Little did I know that it would be the couple of months that would change my life forever.

I live in Essex, attend Rockfield Grammar school for girls and find the predicament I find myself in so difficult to comprehend. One minute, I believed I was the most contented girl alive and now I feel nothing but remorse.

My name is Sarah Smith. I am nearly eighteen, have been engaged to my boyfriend David for two months and am in the middle of my A-level exams.

Teachers and peers continually remark that I am privileged to have been blessed with so many attributes and I should ensure I use them wisely. I am flattered that they frequently tell me that I look fantastic, am gifted academically and shine in the sports I play.

My disciplinary record is excellent and the only blemish is two strokes of the cane on my palms from Miss Groves, the music teacher. The punishment occurred in my third year when Jane, my best friend and I continued talking after being told to be quiet.

The stick certainly stung and I found the caning humiliating when receiving it in front of the class. Despite the tears in our eyes, we took our punishment stoically. Unlike, I might add, some of the girls we had witnessed getting caned who cried, screamed and made a terrible fuss.

After the stinging subsided, we discussed being disciplined and agreed we were pleased to have our fascination with the stick satisfied. After witnessing our classmates' punishments, we often talked about being caned and wondered what it would be like to experience that pain.

I was surprised that I felt aroused after seeing Jane's caning and experiencing punishment myself. I never mentioned this to Jane or anybody else, as I worried people would consider me weird if I told them I had become aroused during and after our punishment.

I have never received any retribution since that day and teachers often use me as an example of what they expect from a model pupil when talking to the younger girls. I have proudly held the position of head girl for the last two years.

I have never considered the possibility of being punished as I am conscientious and much respected by staff and pupils alike. I never imagined I would be saying this, but I was in trouble because I thought I was beyond reproach.

David asked me if I could skip school on Tuesday afternoon as he had tickets for our favourite band's matinee performance at the Slatters Arms.

I knew it was wrong to play truant but I didn't have exams on Wednesday and never contemplated my dishonesty getting discovered.

Unfortunately, I forgot I had promised Miss James I would take the first years for drama that afternoon but I was so excited about seeing the band I unhesitantly made up an excuse.

I felt guilty but lied that I was attending the hospital for a personal check-up and never contemplated the discovery of my deviousness.

She told me she was disappointed but understood that health issues took precedence over school commitments and said she hoped everything turned out alright.

It was just my luck that Mr Davies, the History teacher had that day off and was also a fan of the Clash. He saw me done up to the nines, cigarette in my mouth, drink in my hand, standing proudly with my fiance David enjoying the music at the pub.

He mentioned this to the headmistress and she was disgusted that I had lied and deceived her. She was pretty cunning, I thought when talking to me, but on reflection, I could understand her motive. She asked how my hospital appointment had gone and I lied, explaining my visit in graphic detail.

She then asked me to accompany her to her study, where I was informed Mr Davis had witnessed me drinking although I was underage and smoking in the pub when I had pretended I was at the hospital.

She added that not only had I let her and the school down by truanting then blatantly lying to her about it but I had also deceived her by forging a note from my mother excusing me from school.

My stomach sunk as I knew I had no option but to confess my sins and accept the consequences that my actions demanded. However severe they turned out to be, deep down, I knew I had deceived her and deserved what punishment Miss James determined was fitting for my crime.

Miss James told me that my behaviour was unacceptable. As a rule, my actions would have resulted in expulsion, but as I was in the middle of my exams and had an impeccable record, she considered this was too drastic a measure, although one I deserved.

She added that removal from school would detrimentally affect my education and my foolishness if expelled would compromise my future. She told me to return to her study before going home as it would give her the time to contemplate an appropriate punishment.

When I entered Miss James' study to discover my fate, I admit I was close to tears, shaking and feeling sick, dreading the outcome. She didn't stand on ceremony and handed me a letter for my mummy detailing why she had decided on the punishment I would receive.

Miss James looked into my eyes, informing me I might be seventeen, nearly eighteen but that wouldn't prevent me from receiving six strokes with the senior cane, three across each of my palms. She added that she hoped the severity of the sentence would serve as an example that lying and being deceitful, let alone forgery, results in painful consequences.

I told her I was so sorry that I had let her down and had made it worse by being dishonest. I had tears in my eyes as I said I was distraught at my behaviour and assured her it would never happen again. I said I would accept my punishment as a lesson to ensure that I think long and hard before ever contemplating being dishonest in the future.

When I arrived home, my mummy was out and I sat down looking at my delicate palms reflecting on the caning they would have to endure in the morning.

I wondered what mummy would think of me, let alone David when he knew my headmistress was going to thrash me. Would he feel embarrassed knowing that the girl he loves, enjoys rampant sex with and wants to marry will have the hands usually massaging his cock caned like a naughty schoolgirl?

When mum returned home, she asked me why the long face. I handed her the letter and waited while she read it. Her expression changed from one of disbelief to that of anger. She shouted at me, "Well, Sarah Smith, you have fucked up big time and no doubt reading this letter; you will suffer the severest of consequences that your conduct deserves."

I had tears in my eyes as I nodded my head in agreement. I had rarely heard mummy swear and realised how distraught and angry my behaviour must have made her.

She told me she never felt the need to tell me before but had felt the cane on her hands several times but I had committed more offences in one afternoon than in all her time at school.

Mummy then hugged me and told me that Miss James had said ring her to discuss my punishment, but I realised the letter had confirmed it was the cane. I told her Miss James had informed me of my punishment and I felt it was a relief when the alternative was expulsion.

When she had finished on the telephone with the headmistress, we sat down together and discussed the situation I found myself in. Mummy held my hand and told me Miss James had confirmed that I would have been expelled in any other circumstances and probably if it had been any other pupil.

We both agreed her recommended punishment, however painful it turned out to be, was preferable to dismissal.

Mummy added that Miss James had asked her if I would accompany you to school as you could return home after being caned and have the weekend to recover before your last two exams later next week. If we thought it was for the best, she said I could support you by witnessing your punishment or waiting outside while the caning took place if that's what we prefer.

Miss James told me she had received a caning, the traditional six of the best, when in her final year at school under similar circumstances to mine. Although the pain had been excruciating, she added that it taught her never to make the same mistake again and she never has.

Mummy told me her canings were nothing like the one I would be suffering, but she now appreciates that deceit often results in retribution when you abuse the rules.

We agreed to decide tomorrow if mummy would witness my caning in the morning or wait outside until Miss James had punished me. The more I considered the options, the more convinced I became that having my mummy in attendance might not only offer much-needed support but encourage Miss James to make the caning less severe with a witness present.

I went up to my bedroom, imagining Miss James and mummy's caning and despite my distressful predicament, found these thoughts sexually arousing. As I pressed my fingers into my pussy while massaging my clitoris, I exploded with the vision of their caned palms uppermost in my thoughts.

After experiencing euphoria, I contemplated the punishment I had coming. Although dreading the pain, I wondered if I would be as sexually excited as I had been when imagining mummy's punishment.

I also wondered why I was not brave enough to tell David about my imminent caning over the telephone. We would be together tomorrow night and all weekend with an empty house as mummy is staying with my aunt Jessica.

So not only would I be revealing the result of my escapade, no doubt David would want details of his fiance's punishment before the sex that will undoubtedly follow.

As she drove me to school, I asked mummy to witness my caning, as I would appreciate her support. She said she would, although suspected she would feel every stroke with me as the headmistress struck my palms.

When we parked and walked to the headmistresses study, mummy kissed me on the lips. She told me she loved me and knew I would conduct myself as stoically as possible.

I was determined to take my punishment bravely, although I knew the pain I would suffer would be excruciating. I am a beautiful young lady, so they tell me, engaged to be married and usually impeccably behaved.

I was determined not to act like a naughty spoilt schoolgirl while being punished, although, on reflection, that's what I am. I felt fortunate that being caned was my punishment as I only escaped the alternative of being sacked by the skin of my teeth.

Mummy knocked on Miss James door and she asked us to enter. Miss James conversed with mummy, who informed her of our decision and then the headmistress turned her attention to me.

She reiterated how badly she felt let down by my atrocious behaviour. Then told me that she hoped my punishment would always serve to remind me that deceitfulness usually results in painful consequences, as I was about to discover.

Miss James produced the senior cane from her cupboard as my legs seemed to turn to jelly and tears welled up in my eyes. I gritted my teeth as I obeyed the order to hold out my hand with my soft palm uppermost.

I closed my eyes as I heard the cane whooshing through the air before striking my tender palm with a resounding crack. The stinging was unimaginable and my hand felt as if I was gripping a red hot poker.

I didn't have long to contemplate the first stroke before the second and third struck my palm, inflicting intolerable agony. I hadn't made a sound but tears were cascading down my cheeks as the stinging proved excruciating.

I then raised my other hand, once more prepared to be caned. Despite the pain, as the cane struck my burning palm, I managed to retain my composure until the third and final stroke struck my already damaged hand.

This final stroke broke my resolve. My blonde hair flew about my face as I tossed back my head and despite my determination not to, I wailed like a wounded animal as my face contorted in agony.

My mummy was sobbing as she put a comforting arm around my shoulders. She then thanked Miss James for not expelling me and said I would be returning to school on Monday. She added that hopefully, I would have recovered from the thrashing she had just witnessed and it would serve as a lesson for me in the future.

We left the study and made our way to the toilets as fast as we could, where I held my hands under the cold tap, cooling my palms. Mummy bathed my face and put hand cream on my damaged hands while kissing me and telling me how brave I was.

As we walked to the car, she said she could not believe the severity of my caning and added that I had made less fuss than she had when receiving two strokes of the stick at my age.

I was gently sobbing on the journey home but not surprised as the stinging started to recede; my pussy began throbbing as I became sexually aroused. "God," I said to myself, "I can't wait to feel David's cock inside of me, satisfying my pussy's need to be fucked."

When we arrived home, mummy went shopping and I told her I wouldn't be joining her. Although the pain had fortunately subsided to a manageable level, the welts on my hands would ensure that all who saw me knew of my caning.

I went up to my bedroom and as I studied the welts on my damaged palms, my pussy started to throb as love juice trickled down my leg.

I intended to revise with my exams imminent but I quickly forgot this as I became excited. I had the feeling of deja-vu as I removed my magic rabbit from the bedside drawer, longing to feel it vibrating inside my pussy.

My striped palms had sexually aroused me but the vision of mummy and Miss James with their hands held out while getting the cane sent me over the edge.

My pussy was alight, love juices flowing freely as my rabbit and my imagination caused me to explode like never before. I loved David fucking me and he ensured I orgasmed as often as not. My masturbation had provided a different experience entirely and had taken me to a previously unknown state of utopia.

As I fell asleep exhausted but satisfied, I longed for David's cock fucking my pussy thrusting inside me harder than ever before.

Mummy woke me before she went to her sister's and told me I looked much better. I replied, although sore; my palms were over the worst of the pain from my punishment and I was looking forward to seeing David later.

She kissed me on the lips and said I deserved some enjoyment as I had suffered enough distress due to the caning I received. I thought my beautiful, understanding mummy had been my rock since losing my dad when I was six and supporting me the way she did.

I couldn't wait for David to come round and when he knocked at the door, love juice wetted my knickers. I had prepared my make up and dressed as provocatively as possible without I hoped looking like the village bike.

I answered the door and pulled him inside while thrusting my tongue down his throat. I felt his cock stiffen as he yearned to be inside me. I pulled him upstairs and told him I wanted fucking now as hard as he could.

"No foreplay," I begged, " Just stick your prick inside my burning hole and fuck me as hard as possible." He threw me onto the bed as we ripped off our clothes and when we were naked, he was quickly inside me.

I arched my back, tossing my head with my long hair covering my face as we violently exploded together. I was screaming at the top of my voice that I loved him as we passionately kissed and he laughed as he told me I was a whore who happened to be the best fuck in the world.

As we laid back on the bed exhausted but blissfully happy, I thrust my striped palms into David's face. " Sarah, your hands, you've been caned, haven't you?" cried my handsome fiance.

"Yes, I have," I replied, "and before you ask, it stung like hell. Yes, I did cry my eyes out, but until the sixth stroke landed, I took my punishment stoically."

I explained the scenario to David and told him my mummy had gone to school, witnessing my punishment.

After suggesting we attend the gig, he kissed me passionately while telling me he felt responsible for my caning. He asked me if he could do anything to make up for causing me so much pain.

I replied having sex all weekend would help appease the situation and he could smack my bottom until I could purchase a cane on the internet for him to use on me.

He looked into my eyes and asked if I enjoyed punishment as that seemed to appear what I was asking. I explained all to him, omitting my feelings when imagining mummy, Jane, and Miss James punishment.

He said his sister had been caned at school and had explained all the gory details to him while showing him the welts on her hands. He told me he felt nothing but sympathy for her and certainly hadn't become sexually aroused.

Seeing my striped palms and imagining his gorgeous, beautiful fiance with her arm out, waiting for the cane striking her palm, has excited him enough to give his impression of corporal punishment a different perspective.

He added his cock was hardening now as we discussed my punishment.

We spent the weekend fucking our brains out and when David spanked my bottom, we exploded together before he even had the chance to fuck me.

You will be pleased to know I passed my A-levels with flying colours and David and I are still very much an item. We now have our own cane and a newly acquired tawse which David loves to wield.

Our fucking revolves around my love of being punished and despite having my bottom caned, I still prefer it on my hands.

The positive that has evolved with my bum thrashing is that we have discovered that anal sex is wonderfully stimulating, especially after being punished. We both enjoy David's cock thrusting my well-caned arse and it often results in us experiencing an incredible explosion.

I find it hard to believe that a caning at school has resulted in so much happiness.