Post-coffee-break lessons the following day began with embroidery.  Simone thought of it as an old maid’s pastime and was not expecting to enjoy it. However, she quickly appreciated the skill and artistry involved; so much so that she swore loudly when, towards the end of the lesson, she accidentally stabbed her finger with the sharp needle and got a small blood stain on her design. 

The teacher, Miss Baker, glared at her. “Such unladylike language! Come to the front and bend over this chair!” She took a tawse out of her desk drawer.

Simone obeyed. Baker raised the younger woman’s skirt – to reveal that she was wearing a thong rather than the mandated uniform knickers.

“Not exactly uniform!”

“No.” She paused. “Miss.”

The tawse thwacked across Simone’s bottom.  She hissed at the sting. The second stroke quickly followed, then the third. Simone’s buttocks felt burning hot. Then came the fourth stroke. Simone could no longer feel the separate welts, they merged together in one stinging mass. The fifth and sixth strokes quickly followed. Simone was breathing hard but showed no other signs of distress.

 Baker wrote a note and handed it to Simone. “Take this to Mr Roxby!”

Simone took I as she rubbed her smarting bottom and walked to the Principal’s office. I suppose I’m going to be caned. On top of a strapping! If I’d known this was going to happen I’d’ve asked for a warm-up spanking first!

She handed the note to Roxby’s secretary, Mrs Wood and was shown into the inner sanctum.  The note was handed to Roxby who read it and then looked at Simone. “This is the second time you have been sent to me for this offense.”

The attractive West Indian shrugged. “I know. Sir.”

“Is that all you have to say?” 

“The uniform knickers are uncomfortable! I’ll have to avoid being spanked so nobody sees what I’m wearing, but I seem to be having some difficulty with that.”

Roxby was clearly suppressing a smile. “I’d noticed!” He took a rattan cane from the cupboard. “Shall we proceed?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Over the desk, then.”

Simone obeyed. He lifted her skirt over her back Then there was a pause, no doubt while he and the whole bloody internet! admired her well-toned buttocks and legs. She felt the cane tap the middle of her bottom twice, then it was raised. She heard it swish through the air, heard and felt it bite into her bottom. She inhaled sharply.

Tap, tap. Pause. Swish-crack! A little lower this time. Simone released the breath she was holding.

Tap, tap. Pause. Swish-crack! Lower again. She hissed.

Tap, tap. Pause. Swish-crack! Simone’s breathing grew rapid as the pain of the caning sank in.

She received a fifth stroke and jerked upwards on her toes, wiggling her bottom in a vain attempt to shake off the pain. The sixth and final stroke landed on her creases.

“Sheeeesh!” 

“All over. Are you alright?”

She stood, rubbed her painful bottom, and could not help giving him a rueful smile. “I’ll live. But if you’re into post-caning hugs I wouldn’t be averse.”

Roxby raised his eyebrows but put down the cane and opened his arms. Simone stepped into the embrace and pressed herself against him as his hands stroked her hair and back. After about a minute he released her and stepped away. Simone smiled as she pulled her skirt back into place. 

Roxby wrote a note and handed it to her. “Give this in at your next lesson, we don’t want you getting into more trouble.” 

The young woman rubbed her bottom. “Thank you. I don’t want another dose just yet.” 

Roxby raised his eyebrows again and waved the note at her. Simone took it and walked rather stiffly to the deportment lesson which was probably about to start. She’d better not ask me why I’m late! She knocked and entered.

Smythe turned to look at her. “Come on in. Where have you been?” 

“Miss Baker sent me to Mr Roxby, as I'm sure they've told you!” Simone handed her the note from Roxby.

“Less of your lip unless you want another strapping!" Smythe read the note. "Will you be alright?”

“I’ll have no trouble walking like I’ve got a pole shoved up my arse, if that’s what you mean!”

“Is that right? Remain behind at the end and we’ll discuss it further.”

Simone could see Linda rolling her eyes and shaking her head. Crap! I’ve just talked myself into another tawsing! She lowered herself gingerly onto a vacant chair. I think I’m going to be sleeping on my stomach tonight!

When the others had gone at the end of the lesson, Smythe ordered Simone to sit at a table, then placed some lined paper and a pen in front of her. “Strapping and caning you does not seem to have much success in persuading you to modify your language so I’m trying a different tack: you will write out ‘I will always refrain from using unladylike language’ one hundred times.”

“What? That’s ridiculous!”

“Two hundred times!”

“You can’t do that!”

“You evidently haven’t read the handbook as carefully as you should because you’ll find that I can! Three hundred times.”

Simone conceded defeat and began writing.

“Make sure your writing is legible, otherwise you’ll do them again.”

Simone continued writing. “Yes, miss.”

“I can see we’re both going to miss lunch at this rate. Can I trust you to stay here and continue while I go get us some sandwiches or similar?”

Simone drew in her breath to make a smart retort on the lines of And whose fault is that? Then she thought better of it. “You can miss.”

Simone’s wrist began to ache as she wrote. She knows what she’s about! I’d rather have had another dose of the tawse than this!

Smythe returned bearing French bread sticks, cheese and tomatoes. The latter were more misshaped than any that could be found in a British supermarket. They also had considerably more flavour, as did the cheese.  Simone fed herself left-handed while continuing to write. She managed to complete the lines to Smythe’s satisfaction in time to get to her afternoon lesson, which covered the organisation of a formal dinner. There was no time to talk so her friends had to continue restraining their curiosity as to what had happened to her since she had been sent to Roxby’s office.

“So what happened?” Linda asked once they were walking down the corridor.

“Smythe made me write ‘I will always refrain from using unladylike language’ three hundred times! And now my wrist really hurts!”

Kathy took Simone’s hand and examined her wrist. “It does seem a little tender; we should put a cold compress on it. There’s a fridge in the kitchen area off the room where we had coffee this morning. Let’s see if there’s any ice in it.”

There were indeed several trays of ice cubes in the freezer compartment.  Kathy emptied one of them into a bowl, topped it up with water then soaked a tea towel in the resultant ice water. She wrung it out then wrapped the cold damp cloth around Simone’s right wrist.

“Thanks! I could have done with something cold on my arse when Roxby had finished with me.”

“Yes, what happened there?”

“He caned me and since I’m wearing a thong that means I got six on the bare – on top of a leathering from Baker.”

“Ouch!”

“It could have been worse. He knows what he’s doing with a cane and with a proper warm-up spanking it would have been quite enjoyable.”

Anita grinned.  “Sounds like you have a thing for him! Do you like silver foxes?”

“I like men who don’t give CP like they’re tenderising steak and he’s one such. If we meet outside this place, he can put me over his knee any time he likes. And cane me afterwards.”

Kathy was confused. “Imagine I’m an innocent –“

“You are!”

“-who knows sod all about corporal punishment and explain what a ‘warm up spanking’ is!”

“A hand spanking to warm the bottom up prior to a caning. It might seem counterintuitive but that way you can take a longer caning. I just didn’t think asking Roxby for one would be a good idea.”

Kathy sighed. “You’re right, it does sound counterintuitive!”

Anita patted Kathy’s bottom. “If we had a cane we could demonstrate on your delectable rear!”

Linda looked thoughtful. “I might be able to help out there.”