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Oh the comfort, the inexpressible comfort of
feeling safe with a person: having neither to weigh thoughts
nor measure words, but pour them out. Just as they are - chaff
and grain together, knowing that a faithful hand will take and
sift them, keep what is worth keeping and then with the breath
of kindness, blow the rest away.
- Mary Ann Evans (George Eliot)
Comfort of Small Things
by Mija and MollyB
Fiona sat in the overstuffed chair and leaned
in to talk with her dear and long-time friend, Vera Kingsley,
headmistress of the St. Clare School.
"Thanks so much for admitting Tessa at
such a late date. I'm so glad she's finally settled in. I know
she can be such a trial."
"Oh yes, but honestly, after the first
few weeks Tessa was really among the least of my problems. Shall
I tell you of my troublesome hockey co-captains who reminded
me of another two certain naughty girls?"
Fiona wiggled still closer, curled her legs
beneath her and smiled a bit.
"Is it the sort of story I like?"
"Exactly the sort you like best,
my dear, two very naughty girls. . . ."
Vera Kingsley leafed through Wendy Flanders'
and Jane Swann's files. Better than average academics and impressive
athletics, but the two seemed destined for trouble together.
She glanced across her desk at the girls sitting nervously across
from her. Their faces looked a pale contrast to their black
and red blazers. Wendy and Jane had clearly dressed with care
for this meeting, kilts crisply pleated, white shirts buttoned
demurely to their throats, ties tied neatly, knee-socks pulled
up and straight. The headmistress assumed that when the time
came she'd discover that both were wearing the white regulation
school knickers. Both girls had their hands folded neatly in
their laps, though the headmistress noticed Wendy nervously
fidgeting with the pleats of her red plaid kilt. The older woman
intended to make them both a good deal more nervous before she
"Not the first bit of hot water you two
have found yourselves in during your time at St. Clare, hmmm?"
Jane and Wendy could hardly deny it. The evidence
was right there, in the thick folders containing each girl's
school history, the contents of each nearly identical to the
other. In their very first month at school together, the girls
had been scolded and finally disciplined by their house prefect,
Millicent Lasseter, for sharing a bed and night-time whispered
confidences. The file notes indicated that the two had unsuccessfully
tried to avoid over-the-knee hand spankings from the older student
by claiming Jane had only crept out of bed in fear of a thunderstorm.
The prefect had accepted this excuse that first time, but not
the second -- especially since, as Millicent had noted in her
report of the discipline, on the night of their spanking, it
hadn't even been raining.
"Had we but known then . . ."
Wendy and Jane blushed deeply, stared at their
laps and said nothing.
Turning the pages slowly, the headmistress
noted the two had been slippered publicly by their French mistress
for repeated whispering during class at the tender age of seven.
"Hmm, slippered over your teacher's lap
in front of the entire class? That must have stung.
Though of course your knickers were still up, yes? Do you remember
that day, Miss Flanders? Yes? How about you, Miss Swann? There's
no note about whether or not corner time was assigned. Was it?"
Both girls looked up with pained expressions
at the memory and whispered, "Yes, Headmistress."
Vera concealed a smile as she read the next
page. The 'Alice Escapade', as it had become known.
"And, young ladies, shall we even mention
your treatment of poor Alice MacKnight? Framing a schoolmate
with a crayon in her laundry. Had your art mistress not noticed
the red missing from Jane's set, poor Alice would have continued
to be blamed."
Both girls swallowed hard, but the expressions
on their faces were far from regret. As her later behaviour
would reveal, Alice had deserved at least some of the spite
directed at her.
"Still, all this came to my attention
when you both had been caught 'red-' or shall we say 'black-handed'
after painting permanent ink eye-glasses on poor Alice's face."
Wendy pushed her thin wire frames up nervously.
The headmistress had always suspected Alice had teased the girl
and her words had backfired into this prank. Wendy and Jane
might not have been caught except, like schoolgirl Lady Macbeths,
they'd been unable to wash the ink from their hands. Still,
Alice had worn traces of her 'eye-glasses' for almost a fortnight.
"Do you know you both were the first
and only eight-year-olds in my St. Clare memory who were ever
slippered bare bottom? Still, you'd both stood by while poor
Alice was spanked for the crayon you'd been responsible for."
Her notes indicated their tell-tale inky hands
had been rulered as well. A pretty severe punishment indeed.
And yet even here and now both girls didn't appear entirely
contrite. Vera guessed the early dislike of Alice hadn't entirely
vanished with the passing years.
"You would think that after a correction
like this, you girls were sorry, yes? And would be far better
behaved. But almost every year you girls have merited some sort
of sharp punishment. And consistently for mischief you've gotten
into together." Vera sighed sadly and turned to the next
page in either file.
"I'm sorry, miss," Wendy fumbled
"Funny, I seem to remember hearing that
from you, Miss Flanders, many many times. Particularly with
regard to the mice. You girls do remember the mice,
Both girls paled a bit. 'The mice' were nothing
if not memorable.
"The extermination charges were in excess
of five hundred pounds. As I recall, the exterminator had never
seen anything quite like it. An interesting science
Jane burst out in an explanation given many
"Miss, we were just trying to save two
tiny twin sister mice from the biology class. Except, well,
one of them wasn't actually a sister -"
"No need to continue, Miss Swann. I have
a great many notes on the rodent infestation that resulted
from your 'rescue' of the mice. As well as the letters from
irate parents wondering why their daughters were attending a
school crawling with vermin."
Vera closed her eyes as she remembered first
sight of the basement storeroom where the eleven-year-olds had
been keeping their growing mouse population in a series of by-then
gnawed-through shoe boxes. While the storeroom was the point
of origin, the mice had traveled widely and colonized throughout
the main school building. Vera had had to apologize to the elderly
Spanish mistress who for days had been complaining to her about
being awakened by "chirridos en el noche".
"I would have thought that five weekends
labouring in the science laboratories would have made an impression
on you both. Or, if not, surely the bare-bottom hairbrushing
you received over my lap. Do you both recall that hairbrushing?
Think on it, we'll return to the subject by and by."
Both girls squirmed on their suddenly-tingling
seats, shivering a bit despite their blazers. Sitting had been
uncomfortable for days after their punishments. The headmistress
hid her smile as she watched.
"Now onto your more recent histories.
Nothing it would seem for almost three years, so perhaps my
hairbrush did make an impression after all. Caricaturing your
algebra master? Not the conduct I would expect from mature
fourteen-year-olds. Though perhaps my error has been assuming
your maturity all along."
Certainly one couldn't assume maturity on
the part of the master who'd reported it like a whining child
teased at play, the headmistress thought, though of course she
"What was your payment for that work
of art, Miss Swann?"
There was a long pause before Jane spoke up.
"Six strokes of the cane each, Headmistress."
"Over your knickers, as I recall. Obviously
it should have been on the bare."
What on earth could they say to that? Jane
and Wendy glanced at each other before returning their eyes
to their ever-interesting kilt pleats.
Here the files were unneeded, so Vera let
them close before her. The girls looked smaller to her than
she remembered them. Certainly not the powerful, athletic hockey
players she'd watched from across the field, wondering at and
even a bit jealous of the speed and strength in their graceful
young bodies. At the practice where the headmistress had awarded
the two the title of co-captain they'd seemed such tall and
sturdy young women as Vera had tried not to look too long at
the sweat glistening on the expanse of thigh beneath short kilts
and above knee-socks.
Now, seated on the other side of her desk,
Wendy Flanders and Jane Swann looked like the naughty little
girls they so obviously were.
"And that takes us all the way up to
last night. . . ."
The telephone rang out on the headmistress's
private line at 11:00 p.m. Vera picked up the receiver with
some irritation, wondering who could be calling so late in the
evening. Her annoyance changed to good humour when the caller
turned out to be the coach of the American East Coast champion
girls field hockey team. She was calling to accept the challenge
St. Clare School had issued.
Knowing how long Wendy and Jane had waited
for this news, the headmistress chose to go at once to tell
them, despite it already being an hour past lights out.
However, she paused before knocking on their
door. What if Jane and Wendy were already sleeping? Vera decided
to simply peek in, leaving the news until morning if the girls
were sleeping. Quietly she turned the knob and silently eased
the door open a bit.
The lights were out, but there was moon enough
to light the room. Scanning the room with her eyes, the headmistress
was surprised to see that Wendy's bed was empty, prompting her
to think of possible late-night escapades. A look at Jane's,
however, revealed both girls on the single narrow cot.
Vera stood silently at the door, watching
the two girls kiss, feeling lost in her own erotic dreams. A
dimly-lit hand massaged a bare back, both bodies too entwined
to distinguish one from the other. In the silence a soft gasp
sounded loud to her ears. Was it hers or one of theirs?
The headmistress paused, watching a moment
longer, then reached across the wall and switched on the light.
"Return to your bed at once,
Miss Swann. I will expect to see you and Miss Flanders in my
office at exactly 3:00 tomorrow afternoon."
Turning quickly, Vera Kingsley switched off
the light and closed the door behind her.
"I've not written a report yet of last
night, but I trust the occasion is recent enough that you both
"Yes, miss," the girls agreed, shame
lowering their eyes and voices.
"First, since I was unable to tell you
last night, St. Clare's hockey team will be flying to New England
in the spring. The Americans have accepted our challenge. That
was my reason for coming to visit you in your room."
Wendy and Jane looked at each other with excitement,
undimmed even by their disgrace.
"Oh, Headmistress, that's so wonderful
-" Jane began.
"Whether either of you will be on the
team by then is, of course, the question at hand. Isn't it?"
The two could give only dismayed looks as
silent seconds ticked by.
After allowing the silence to extend uncomfortably,
"On the extremely rare occasions roommates
have been caught abusing the privacy afforded older students
at St. Clare, the punishments have generally been identical."
Vera gestured toward the large ledger which
was the school's ancient punishment book.
"The girls in question were separated;
that is, no longer allowed to share a room -"
The two gasped at this, both because they
had been together since beginning at St. Clare and because they
knew the other girls in their house would have to be told the
reason for their separation. There would be little sympathy
as it would probably mean the breaking up of two other long-standing
pairs of roommates.
Vera continued, "- stripped of all offices.
In your cases that would mean not only losing your positions
as co-captains but also your places on the hockey team -"
Wendy and Jane looked at each other in horror.
Neither girl could imagine not playing hockey for St. Clare.
"- and six strokes of the senior cane,
delivered on the bare bottom."
The cane strokes, normally something which
would make both girls cringe, sounded minor compared to the
other penalties. They bit their lips and looked at each other,
two minds with a single thought.
"It seems a terrible shame to punish
your team-mates for your naughty behaviour."
"Please, Headmistress, please don't!"
Jane burst out. Wendy, her own mouth already half open, nodded
her vigorous agreement.
Vera leaned forward and looked over her glasses
at the girls.
"I wish it were otherwise, but I see
very few options. Obviously expulsion is an even worse choice.
Though one not entirely unjustified given your records."
Jane paled and trembled a bit, but continued.
"Couldn't you just cane us more, Headmistress?"
Wendy started a bit at Jane's suggestion,
but nodded gamely.
The headmistress smiled inwardly. Not so difficult
to imagine where this discussion might lead. She feigned surprise.
"You want a harder caning? Six
strokes on the bare is really already quite a severe punishment.
I'm not sure I could safely exceed it by much. Maybe twelve.
But twelve strokes would hardly be enough given your transgression,
now would it?"
Wendy and Jane looked toward the cabinet where
the canes were kept. The senior cane was thin and of a dense
sort of rattan. Vera could tell the two thought twelve strokes
with it wasn't penalty to be sneered at.
Reaching into the top drawer of her desk,
the Headmistress removed her heavy oval wooden hairbrush before
she stood and walked around her desk, finally sitting on its
front edge, directly above the two girls.
"What you really both deserve is a sound
spanking. Such naughty girls. Inconsiderate of those who trusted
you to be responsible. Your house, your team mates, your school.
Didn't your first encounter with Millicent teach you to keep
your naughty bottoms in their own beds?"
The words hung in the air for a long time,
seeming to echo off the walls. There was a long pause before
Jane and Wendy both agreed.
"Yes, miss. We're very sorry."
"We'll take the twelve strokes please,
Vera tapped the hairbrush on her palm.
"No. You will not be caned. Instead I'll
ruler those errant hands for visiting where they shouldn't and
then give you sound bare- bottom spankings across my lap, like
I did when you were eleven, for being such naughty irresponsible
girls. But longer and harder now of course since you're both
Jane glanced at the heavy ruler on the headmistress's
desk, clasping and unclasping her hands, imagining the red lines
soon to be drawn across her palms. Wendy, however, was transfixed
by the hairbrush. Both girls seemed to be remembering younger
days not so very long past.
"Afterward, I will keep a close watch
on you both, but no-one but the three of us will know anything
about this incident. You'll be allowed to keep your room together."
Vera wasn't surprised the girls agreed. They
had no other option really.
"All right then. Go remove and hang your
blazers on the hooks by the door and then come stand behind
your chairs. I doubt either of you will want to sit again for
quite a while."
As Wendy and Jane hurried to do her bidding,
Vera picked up the ruler and tapped it against her own palm.
As headmistress she had rarely watched two students go as eagerly
to punishment as these two, and somehow that earnest eagerness
made her feel quite tender toward them. And made her resolve
to make their punishments all the more memorable.
Wendy was back first, her hands clasped in
front of her, hidden behind the chair. Jane was slower only
because her eyes were downcast. She held her arms at her sides,
unsuccessfully trying to control her trembling. Vera stood there,
watching them, tapping the ruler against her left hand.
"I am deeply disappointed in you both,
as you should be in yourselves." Another pause as the girls
tried not to slouch or meet their headmistress's eye. "Jane
Swann, Wendy Flanders, hold out your hands, elbows over the
backs of your chairs please."
The two girls held their arms straight out,
grateful for the chair edge to help support them. The headmistress
started with Jane, taking the tips of her right fingers in her
left hand and then smacking the ruler down hard across her palm
- once, twice, a dozen times before moving on to her left hand.
Though Jane trembled, she made no noise other than the smallest
When the second dozen was finished, Jane moved
to put her hands to her side.
"Miss Swann? I expect you to leave your
arms as they are while Miss Flanders' palms are made to match
them. She is as responsible for your punishment as you are for
Wendy was already near tears from watching
the punishment of Jane's palms. The headmistress rulered her
palms faster, though perhaps not quite as hard. Still, a sob
burst forth as she started on the girl's left palm.
Without breaking off the steady ruler smacks,
the headmistress scolded Wendy. "What a naughty girl to
need to have her palms rulered like an eight-year-old at this
age. And don't think those tears will get you off the sound
spanking that's coming next, miss."
From the corner of her eye, the headmistress
could see Jane blinking back tears and felt some grim satisfaction.
Getting the two to feel responsible for the other's punishment
would be a good thing for them both.
Finally, when she placed the ruler on her
desk, Vera noted that she had two repentant schoolgirls before
"You may put your hands to your sides
now, but may not rub them together or against your
The two girls put their arms down gratefully,
their palms stinging.
"Now onto the spankings you both so richly
deserve. Since I can't spank you both at the same time I thought
of sending one then the other of you out of my office to wait.
But then I realized that you should know what your actions caused,
not just to yourself, but to the person you claim to be your
best friend. Because you've let each other down, haven't you?
Miss Flanders? Miss Swann?"
"Yes, miss. I'm sorry."
Wendy spoke first and Jane followed.
"You should apologize to each other,
not just to me."
There was a longish pause which extended until
Jane and Wendy realized the headmistress was actually waiting
for them to give each other apologies. They finally offered
them awkwardly. Jane's voice trembled and broke a bit over her
"Miss Swann, you go over and stand in
that corner right over there."
Jane slowly trudged across the room to stand
in the corner nearest to where they had hung their blazers.
"You just push your nose right in there,
young lady. That's right. And if you dare move before I call
you over, you will find yourself back here tomorrow afternoon.
Is that clear?"
The wall felt cool against Jane's forehead
and she leaned into the corner, grateful for its support and
comfort. When she was settled, the headmistress turned her attention
to Wendy, who stood as though frozen into place behind her chair.
After a moment of staring fixedly at the girl, the headmistress
picked up the hairbrush and came around her desk.
"Miss Flanders? Please move your chair
over there next to the window. Good. And now you come here and
stand beside me."
As the girl crossed the room with the chair,
complying, Vera seated herself in the room's second armless
wooden chair and set the hairbrush on the floor on her right
In a few moments Wendy stood beside her headmistress,
fingered her kilt pleats nervously and studied her shoes. In
a gesture that was almost gentle, Vera took the girl's hand
and led her across her lap. Wendy made a muffled noise, almost
like a sigh, as her stomach pressed into her headmistress's
The girl held firmly across her lap, Vera
carefully lifted up the hem of her kilt and laid it neatly high
on Wendy's back, well out of the way.
"I am sure we can find a better place
for these knickers. Girls as naughty as you two need to be spanked
bare-bottom." More blood rushed to Wendy's face as the
headmistress's fingers found the strong elastic at the waist.
The girl moaned a bit as her white school knickers were lowered
almost to her knees. The headmistress noted to herself that
the field hockey co-captain's white bottom made a pleasingly-sharp
contrast to the girl's tanned and freckled thighs. She smiled
to herself as she thought of how 'tanned' the girl's white skin
would soon be.
Vera said nothing else, but picked up her
hairbrush and tapped it twice against the girl's bottom before
bringing it down with a loud crack across the centre. She felt
Wendy's body stiffen and jerk, but the girl made no audible
complaint. A bright red oval stood out brilliantly against Wendy's
The spanking had a slow but steady tempo,
with Wendy gasping as the brush punished her plump round bottom
and thighs. Her feet kicked up involuntarily.
"Your bottom is colouring quite nicely,
Wendy. But I think your offence merits 'St. Clare Crimson'."
With that pronouncement, the smacks became
faster, though no less crisp. A sob escaped Wendy. And then
another, until soon Wendy was crying over her headmistress's
lap every bit as loudly as she had when she was eleven. The
headmistress seemed unmoved by the sobbing girl and delivered
another dozen whacks, the hardest of all, before setting the
hairbrush down again beside her chair.
Vera rubbed gently at the base of Wendy's
spine as the girl sobbed over her knee for a long minute or
two. Then, hearing Wendy quieting, she helped her stand, tucking
her kilt high into its own waist band. Wendy stood before her,
knickers twisted at her knees, face buried in her hands.
"Now into the other corner with you,
miss. And no rubbing or you will feel my cane after
The eagerness with which Wendy bolted toward
the corner assured the headmistress that the girl wanted no
more attention this afternoon. She watched Wendy until her nose
was firmly pressing into the corner, hands on her head. The
girl's bare bottom glowed bright from the attention of the hairbrush.
Then Vera turned her gaze over to Jane. Getting
up from the chair, she walked over to the corner where the girl
stood and laid her hand on her arm. Jane looked up at her headmistress,
tears streaming down her face. It was clear she had suffered
along with Wendy.
"And now it's time for you and I to have
our little talk, Miss Swann."
Jane nodded, allowing herself to be led almost
eagerly over to the chair. Clearly she wanted the spanking that
would make her equal to Wendy, punish her as well so she needn't
feel so guilty about the other girl's punishment.
Before pulling Jane over her lap, the headmistress
reached beneath the girl's kilt and lowered her knickers to
her knees. The strong elastic clung to her, keeping the white
fabric bunched across her thighs. Jane blushed and couldn't
meet her headmistress's eye.
"Such a naughty girl,"
Vera remarked as if to herself. "Obviously you're quite
overdue for a hard spanking."
Saying nothing more, the woman guided the
girl across her lap, arranging Jane so her bottom was high and
quite bare. Then, without even a warning tap, Vera pulled back
her arm and began walloping Jane's backside. Though there was
time between them, each hairbrush smack echoed sharply across
the room. Jane, already in tears, began to sob.
Vera listened to the girl's crying as it grew
in volume with the tempo of her hairbrush whacks. As Jane began
kicking, the brush found her thighs, painting them red. The
headmistress wrapped her arm tight around Jane and used the
hairbrush hard and fast up and down her bottom and thighs for
at several very long minutes as sobs choked Jane and her kicks
finally began to still. As the hairbrush cracked down harder
still the girl cried out.
"Please! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I'll
Vera raised the brush higher and brought it
"Yes you will, miss. Or from now on you'll
learn your lessons standing!"
Two dozen more smacks with the brush on the
tender place where Jane's bottom and thighs met and it was over
and Jane and Wendy again stood before her, knickers again in
place over painfully sore bottoms. Their hands itched to rub,
but each held hers close to her sides, not daring to even think
of such relief from her burning and stinging bottom.
"Now, I expect you both to conduct yourselves
in a manner that brings honour to you, your house and St. Clare.
Is that clear? Because next time you shan't get off so lightly."
"Yes, miss," whispered Wendy in
a tone that indicated she wouldn't use 'lightly' to describe
the punishment they had received.
"We'll be good, Headmistress, really."
"Yes, so you told me, Jane. For your
sakes and mine I hope you remember that promise."
With that the girls were dismissed, sent back
to their house and their still-shared private room.
"Oh my," sighed Fiona as she closed
her eyes and leaned back in her chair, tea long since cold and
forgotten. "Delightfully naughty girls indeed. And you
were right; that's just the sort of story I like best."
"I know, my dear," said Vera, pouring
her old classmate a fresh cup and passing her a plate of biscuits.
"Honestly, the thought of being able to tell you about
it was the only thing that made my distasteful job of punishing
the two bearable, I do assure you."
Fiona blushed a bit. "Indeed, I'm sure.
But you know, they likely slept together again that very night.
I can't believe you let them keep the same room. Such naughty
Vera smiled, her hand resting gently on her
friend's thigh. Her eyes were warm and soft, lost in shared
memories. Her smile broadened as Fiona, eyes still closed, covered
Vera's hand with her own.
"Wendy and Jane? Well, I thought they
might. And perhaps I've become soft in my old age. But after
such a hard spanking it would seem a shame to deny such dear
friends the comfort of small things."
Back to St.
Clare School stories
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