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Such a Naughty Girl (part 1/2)
Sally Heriot was in deep trouble,
and it was just so unfair. Despite being the eighteen-year-old
head prefect of St. Catherine's School for Girls, she'd been
slippered by the Headmistress the previous day, and faced
the prospect of a painful spell across her father's knee later
that day, unless her sister Charlotte could manage to get
a confession from the girl who was responsible for the whole
mess: the real culprit.
Sally hadn't slept a wink, but she wasn't
tired at all; a potent cocktail of excitement at seeing her
father for the first time in a month, and a nervous fear of
his paternal anger and the spanking to which she seemed to be
doomed had kept her awake most of the night. During her first
two terms as Head Girl, Sally had administered quite enough
over-the-knee punishment spankings to younger pupils to understand
how a firm hand was often both necessary and loving; still,
the thought of her Daddy being sufficiently displeased with
her behaviour to believe that smacking her bottom was the best
course of action made her feel sick with shame and a sense of
injustice. She was sure she'd feel different if she'd genuinely
earned the slippering; if she really had been such a naughty
girl. But she hadn't. She was a good, sensible girl, she told
She slipped out of bed, and pulled back the
curtains, revealing a fine spring morning. From her bedroom
at the front of the school, Sally could see the long gravel
drive along which her father's car would approach. It was early,
but her father always came early. She did want to see him -
she loved him dearly - but she couldn't stop the butterflies
in her stomach. He would go to see the Headmistress first, to
find out about his daughters' academic progress and behaviour
since his last visit; Sally knew how the two of them would joke
and smile ruefully about Charlotte's behaviour - scarcely a
week could pass between her sister's school wallopings - and
then how shocked and dismayed her father would be at the news
that his elder daughter had also received a spanking.
Sally sighed. The previous day, her school
knickers - all ten pairs - had been stolen. She'd been slippered
by the Headmistress for wearing non-regulation knickers. And
she would be spanked by her father because she'd been slippered
by the Headmistress.
Unless - and Sally hoped and hoped and hoped
just as hard as she was able - unless Charlotte had squeezed
a confession out of the knicker- thief. Not only would Sally
prove her innocence and avoid her father's discipline, she would
have the evidence to make sure the little minx received such
a spanking - in front of the whole school, Sally thought, her
blazing red bottom on display - that she wouldn't sit for a
week. Everything depended on Charlotte. But there was so little
Although it was a Saturday, this still meant
full, formal school uniform for St. Catherine's girls. Sally
put on her uniform: snug maroon regulation knickers (returned
the previous evening just as mysteriously as they had vanished);
grey knee-socks, with a maroon band; a long-sleeved, stiff-collared
white shirt, underneath her gymslip in the school tartan, which
she belted with a grey sash; maroon blazer with grey trim; sensible
brown lace-up shoes. Brushing her short blonde hair (with her
own hairbrush, not the large wooden affair she used to administer
more severe spankings), Sally could see that the uniform was
incomplete. Although she'd buttoned her shirt-collar, in the
required fashion, there was no school tie around her collar.
Not that she needed the mirror. Sally hardly felt in uniform
at all without her school tie. She wore her uniform with great
pride: smart and formal, like a military uniform. As Head Girl,
she was an ambassador for the whole school, and, more than anything
else, the maroon and grey striped tie was the symbol
of the school. She missed the ritual of putting on the tie,
and she missed its presence under her chin.
Unless hers and Charlotte's scheme paid off
- and soon! - she would have to continue missing it for the
next week, whilst it sat in a drawer in Miss Grainger's study,
along with the school ties of many other, similarly-spanked
girls, and she paraded around the school with a bare collar,
showing all the other girls that not even the Head Prefect was
too big for a sound bottom-warming. Along with Charlotte's tie.
And along with Jodie's, Sally remembered. The little minx hadn't
got Sally slippered without avoiding a spanking herself, though
a few smacks with a slipper were nothing compared to what Sally
had in store for Jodie when things had been sorted out.
Sally's heart sank as she heard the faint
rumble of a car engine. Sure enough, she saw her father's car
in the distance. Sally found herself frantically estimating
how long it would take for the car to reach the school, how
long he would spend with the Headmistress, and how long all
the other things would take that stood between her and her first
- at eighteen years old - spanking across her father's knee.
She wished Charlotte would hurry! She wished she'd never seen
By the time of Jodie McAllister's
arrival at St. Catherine's, at the beginning of the Summer
Term, all of the girls at the school knew Sally Heriot to
be a strict disciplinarian; over a third of them had experienced
at first hand just how much Sally had learned about the corporal
punishment of schoolgirls during that baptism of fire in Miss
Grainger's study - including a pair of sixth-formers actually
a few weeks older than Sally. She'd upended them
and warmed their bare seats for smoking, with no regard for
their maturity. After all, smoking was hardly a sign of maturity;
nor was the way they both bawled during their hairbrushings.
In addition to the everyday smack-bottoms
given to younger girls - usually with pyjamas down, in the dorm
at bedtime - for relatively minor misdemeanours, there were
a couple of group spankings - both severe and memorable - tales
of which quickly gained mythical status amongst the more impressionable
In the Autumn Term, scarcely two weeks after
becoming Head Girl, Sally had been called on by Miss Robbins,
the gym mistress, to spank the entire second-form hockey team
(including the substitutes) after a fight involving both teams
had broken out during a game against a visiting school, and
two girls had been slightly injured. Miss Robbins, obviously
fuming, discussed appropriate punishments with the mistress
from the other school, then left for the hospital with the injured
girls, telling Sally: "I want them slippered, right now.
A dozen with pants up, and another dozen with pants down."
So Sally and the visiting mistress shepherded the squabbling
girls into the gymnasium, fetched a couple of wooden stools,
lined the girls up, then spanked every one of them. While the
other mistress slippered her own girls, Sally slippered the
St. Catherine's girls. Still muddy and sweaty, and still wearing
their hockey kits, each twelve- or thirteen-year-old was placed
across the knee, her pleated gym-skirt was raised, and Sally's
plimsoll set to work, first on the tight gym-knickers, then
on the bare bum, with knickers at half-mast. Sally suspected
that her right arm ached rather more than the girls' smacked
bottoms on that occasion.
Later in the term, Sally was requested by
the mathematics mistress, Miss Payne, to chastise three sixteen-year-old
fifth-formers who she'd caught cheating in a mock examination.
She would have punished the girls herself, she told Sally (her
preferred method was to use a long-plastic ruler over knickers,
with the girl draped over her desk) but she wanted the girls
to be humiliated in front of their classmates with over-the-knee
spankings on their bare bottoms, and she could neither manage
to place physically-mature young ladies over her knee (Miss
Payne was very small indeed, and rather frail), nor take down
their knickers for punishment (this privilege being restricted
to the Head, Deputy Head, and the Head Girl). So, Sally fetched
her hairbrush and, hearing from Miss Payne the seriousness of
the offence, administered three of the very hardest spankings
of the year. Holding the large girls across her lap, she raised
their kilts, lowered their school knickers, then paddled their
bottoms cherry-red, while the other girls looked on in stunned
silence, and the naughty spankees howled, thoroughly and sincerely
Sally had administered spankings for all sorts
of misbehaviour, but the girls at St. Catherine's knew that
if one thing was liable to earn them a sore bottom, it was failing
to comply with the school uniform rules. Like a sergeant-major
with sloppy new recruits, Sally's own uniform was always beyond
reproach, and she expected no less from her girls. Persistent
offenders would expect to find themselves staring at the carpet
in Sally's room.
Having been invited to the Headmistress's
study to meet the new girl and her mother, Sally's first impression
of Jodie McAllister certainly hadn't been that complying with
the St. Catherine's school uniform rules would be a problem
for the girl. A mature fourteen- year-old, Jodie McAllister
was wearing the uniform of her previous school, and it was very
smart indeed - it looked like Jodie and her mother had resolved
to make a fine first impression. Jodie sat primly, sweetly demure
in a chocolate-brown gym-tunic and stockings. Her brown and
sky-blue striped blazer was lying at her side, so the sky-blue
collar and sleeves of her school shirt contrasted sharply with
the brown of the tunic. She wore the shirt with no tie but with
the collar neatly buttoned - like, Sally couldn't help thinking,
a recently-spanked St. Catherine's girl.
A greater contract than the blue and brown
was provided by Jodie's hair, which was long, pony-tailed, and
an extraordinary white - blonder than blonde, icy.
Jodie looked positively angelic, and yet there
was something about her which made Sally's right palm itch.
This proved to be prescient, as Mrs McAllister explained:
"You see, Jodie's always been such a
naughty girl. When she was little, I would smack her - lift
her dress and just a couple of smacks on the bottom - but as
she got older, my husband took over the job of disciplining
her, along with her brother. When she was bad, I would get him
to take her into his study and give her a proper punishment."
"You mean he would spank her," asked
"How did your father spank you, Jodie?"
the Headmistress asked the girl, whose fair features blushed
"With his hand, mostly," said Jodie,
"Did he ever use anything else, like
a hairbrush, or a slipper?"
"Sometimes a slipper."
"How did he position you for the spankings?"
"Always across his knee."
"And did he spank you over your clothes,
or were they...adjusted?"
"Sometimes he spanked me over my knickers,
but mostly he took them down, and I got it on the bare."
Mrs McAllister nodded at this, confirming
her daughter's account.
"Fine," said the Headmistress. "Then
young Jodie will be quite accustomed to the techniques we use
here at St. Catherine's."
"She's missed her father's firm hand
since we separated," explained Mrs McAllister, "and
I'm hoping this school can take his place. She's been at Meadowbank
Girls since the start of the year, and it's a good school, but
they've no corporal punishment there, and I do think that a
good old-fashioned spanking now and then is just what Jodie
needs. She's much too big now for me to handle."
"Don't worry, Mrs McAllister," reassured
the Headmistress. "There isn't a girl in the school who
won't fit across my knee if the need arises."
Sally and the Headmistress exchanged glances,
their eyes smiling, while Jodie looked daggers at both of them.
Three days later, Jodie McAllister
had exchanged the chocolate-brown and sky-blue of Meadowbank
Girls' School for the maroon and grey of St. Catherine's,
had been installed in the same dormitory as Charlotte Heriot
- third-formers both - and was already causing irritation
to her new House Captain, Abigail Rice.
A curious feature of the year had been how
much Sally and Abigail had become great friends. They'd always
had enormous respect for each other, but it seemed that the
severe spankings they'd both received that day at the start
of the year had knocked any envy and resentment out of their
systems. Sally had had no reservations about recommending Abigail
to be one of the new House Captains, and now she had a good
and trusted deputy.
So, when Abigail told Sally in passing that
Jodie was making a nuisance of herself, with various minor naughtinesses
- talking after lights-out, being late for classes - Sally was
on the lookout. The following morning, Jodie, uniform askew
after PE, was stopped in the corridor by the Head Girl.
"Miss McAllister, your uniform is a disgrace,"
"Just had PE," Jodie blurted.
"And?" asked Sally. "Pull up
Jodie sullenly pulled up her grey knee-socks.
"Button your shirt-collar!"
Jodie buttoned her collar. This was not as
easy as it might have been; the collar of the new white school
shirt was awfully stiff, and rather tight.
"Straighten your tie!"
Jodie adjusted her school tie, tightening
the tie-knot and straightening the tie under her collar.
"That's better. Don't let me have to
correct your uniform again. Do you hear?"
"Yes, miss," mumbled Jodie.
"Now, turn around and lift your kilt,"
Jodie did this, but slowly, lifting her maroon
tartan kilt clear of her beknickered backside. Sally took aim
and planted two firm hand-spanks on each of the third-former's
buttocks, before sending Jodie on her way, grumpily rubbing
her smacked seat.
Only two days later, the performance
was repeated, only this time Jodie didn't have the excuse
of having just changed into her uniform from her gym kit.
"Miss McAllister, tuck in your shirt-tails!
Uniform regulations state that girls' school shirts must be
tucked in at all times."
Jodie tucked her white shirt-tails into her
"Now, Miss McAllister, let down the hem
of your kilt. Uniform regulations state that all kilts or gym-tunics
must be knee-length."
Jodie released the folds of kilt that she'd
tucked under the waist-band, hoisting the kilt to halfway up
her white thighs. The kilt became knee-length once more.
Then, to the amusement of a cluster of sixth-formers,
Sally bent the wriggling Jodie underneath her left arm, flipped
up Jodie's kilt, and administered a quick but effective smack-bottom
with her right palm on Jodie's pants, punctuating the spanking
with a warning:
"Jodie McAllister, you will adhere to
the uniform regulations of this school, or I will put you across
my knee and give you the spanking of your lifetime. Are you
"Yes, miss," said Jodie between
So, when, the following day, Sally came upon
Abigail Rice, leading a tie-less Jodie by the ear in the direction
of Sally's room, Sally was livid. As if she didn't have anything
else to do other than discipline this naughty girl!
Abigail, herself exasperated, explained: "Sal,
little Miss McAllister here refuses to wear her school tie."
"I am wearing it!" pleaded
Jodie, her ear a vivid red from Abigail's pinching. "The
regulations don't say anything about where I have to
Jodie showed the prefects that she was indeed
wearing her school tie; she was wearing it around her waist,
as a sash.
"My collar is buttoned," Jodie tugged
at the tips of her starchy shirt-collar in demonstration, "and
I am wearing my tie. Just like the regulations say."
Jodie looked at Sally, her lips curling into
a bad-seed smile.
Sally exploded. Abigail had never seen her
so angry, almost out of control. Sally took hold of Jodie's
ear (the other one) and marched the girl towards her room, calling
"Would you come too, Abbie - I might
need some assistance."
The three girls - eighteen-year-old senior
prefects Sally and Abigail, fourteen-year-old Jodie - burst
into Sally's room. Abigail shut the door and sat on the bed,
watching Sally lead Jodie painfully by the ear to the large
mirror above Sally's bookshelf. Sally tugged off Jodie's school
blazer - leaving the girl in white shirt, kilt and grey socks
- and removed Jodie's school tie from around her waist.
Sally held up the tie, looking at Jodie in
the mirror. Jodie looked at Sally, still defiant but now a little
fearful. She had her white hair in short plaits, in the current
fashion, and her blue eyes were wide.
"You should be proud to wear
this, you little brat," said Sally, and she meant it. "Why
on earth do you think girls who've been walloped have their
ties taken away? It's to shame them. Well, if that's
how you want it, I shall give you the spanking that'll qualify
you not to wear your school tie."
Jodie seemed to be about to issue some retort,
but wisely thought better of it, and cast her eyes downwards.
"First, though," continued Sally,
"you will put this on. I'm going to give you this tie,
and then I'm going to start smacking your bottom. I'm going
to continue smacking your bottom until you've put the tie on
properly. If I don't think the tie looks smart enough, you will
take it off and we'll try again."
Sally took hold of the hem of Jodie's kilt,
and lifted it up. She was greeted by the sight of Jodie's pert
little buttocks, encased in tight school knickers. They were
school knickers alright, but they weren't St. Catherine's
"What are these?" Sally asked.
"Regulation knickers, Miss," said
"By God, you really do need the bottom-warming
that you'll get before you leave this room. I should send you
to the Headmistress, but she's far too busy to spend all
her time walloping bad little girls."
Sally tucked Jodie's kilt and shirt-tails
into the waist-band, leaving the girl's small but perfectly-formed
bottom clear for her chastising palm.
"When I give you the tie, I start smacking.
When the tie is on, I stop smacking. Okay?"
Sally gave Jodie her maroon and grey striped
school tie, and had landed one measured, firm palm-spank to
each buttock before Jodie was jolted into action.
Jodie turned up her already-buttoned shirt-collar
and looped the tie around her neck, flinching as Sally landed
more spanks. Jodie's hips swivelled as she tried to avoid the
smacks, like a naughty child being summarily disciplined at
the supermarket, but she wasn't going anywhere, and she needed
to concentrate on fixing her tie-knot.
Another half-dozen smarting spanks, and the
knot was complete. Quickly, Jodie pushed the knot up to the
shirt-collar, and turned the collar down. The spanking stopped
"That's not bad," appraised Sally,
"but I'm sure you can do better. Turn around."
Sally lifted Jodie's chin, unknotted the tie,
and slipped it from the collar.
Jodie groaned, but not for long, because Sally's
hand began slapping against her rosy rump again. As quickly
as she could, Jodie put on the school tie.
Fourteen spanks later, Sally's opinion was:
"Hmm. One last time I think." So, she removed Jodie's
tie, and, for a third time, Jodie put on the tie, to the accompaniment
of the stinging spanking of her own bottom, by now quite sore
"Tighten the knot a little," instructed
Sally, and issued a couple of light, chiding smacks. Jodie tightened
and straightened the tie-knot, so that it stood square and proud
below the high white collar.
"And make sure that your collar is tidy,"
added Sally, prompting Jodie to run her fingers around the collar,
pushing the tie into place and folding down the stiff starchy
Sally gently patted each of Jodie's buttocks.
"Now, your collar and tie are nice and
smart; exactly as they should have been. While I fill in the
corporal punishment log, I want you to stand in the corner -
over there, by the wardrobe - facing the wall." Jodie shuffled
towards the designated corner. "Oh, and you can take down
those knickers, so that Abigail and I can have a look at how
your bottom is colouring up." Jodie very slowly eased down
her thick brown knickers. "That's right, just to your knees.
Now hands on head, miss, and don't let me see you rubbing, or
there'll be trouble."
Jodie, subdued but certainly not chastened
- not yet - palms on head, naked between the small of her back
and the tops of her knee-socks, displayed the results of a smack-bottom
which would have been traumatic for a five-year-old, but which
for a fourteen-year-old was just a preliminary.
Sally sat at her desk and wrote in the small
red punishment log:
Name: Jodie McAllister Punished by: Sally
Heriot Place of punishment: Head Girl's study Reason for punishment:
Persistent refusal to wear correct school uniform Nature of
punishment: Jodie spanked whilst putting on school tie. Repeated
three times Position used: Standing, in front of mirror Adjustment
of clothing: Kilt turned up. Jodie spanked on seat of school
knickers Implement used: Palm of hand No. of strokes: About
50 mild spanks, in total Comments: In view of persistent disobedience
by this girl, and also discovery during punishment of non-regulation
knickers, more formal punishment will be administered, severity
to depend on Jodie's response
"Very well," said Sally, rising
from her seat, moving her wooden spanking stool into the centre
of the room. "Now we can get round to the proper
Sally pulled up Jodie's knickers, then led
the naughty girl by the ear back to the stool, lifting herself
onto the high seat, and standing the girl to her right.
"Your mother said you need a good old-fashioned
spanking now and then," chided Sally, "and it seems
she was right. I'm sure you think you're a big girl now, but
even big girls sometimes need to be put over the knee and given
a sore bottom."
Sally looked deep into Jodie's eyes and was
surprised to see something like panic. Jodie was breathing quickly,
her breasts pushing lightly against the cotton of her shirt-front.
With her uniform now in place - the collar and tie snug around
Jodie's neck - and her hair plaited, blue-eyed, wide-eyed Jodie
looked awfully like a good little girl, genuinely fearful of
Sally put these thoughts aside. Jodie was
a bad little girl and needed a spanking.
"Let's get it over with," said Sally,
and manoeuvred the girl forward, upward, and across her lap,
Jodie's body draping over her knees with a satisfying weight,
plaits and tie dangling floorwards. Sally lifted her right knee
slightly, moving Jodie's bottom into the best, most prominent
position for a hand-spanking. The combined effect of Jodie's
unceremonious position and her tight shirt-collar caused her
face to redden almost at once. Jodie squirmed but - Sally thought
- she must have been used to being placed in the nursery position,
during her father's many over-the-knee spankings.
Sally took hold of the waist-band of Jodie's
knickers. At this, an extraordinary keening erupted from the
girl, taking both Sally and Abigail aback.
"Please, miss!" Jodie wailed, suddenly
more like a four-year-old than a teenager. "Please don't
take my knickers down! Please! I promise I'll be really
good all the time, and that I'll never be naughty! I've learnt
my lesson, miss, honestly I have. You don't have to spank me
any more! Please, miss! Please!"
"Oh, don't be such a baby!" scolded
Sally. "Of course I'm going to take your knickers down.
A bare-bottom spanking is what you deserve, and a bare-bottom
spanking is what you're going to get."
Sally began to ease down the brown school
knickers, but Jodie's right hand whipped backwards, grabbing
at the knickers and flailing, slapping at Sally's arms. What
"Take your hand away this instant!"
said Sally. Did the girl have no shame, behaving so childishly?
But Jodie's hand held firmly onto her knickers,
keeping her bottom-cheeks covered.
"Please, miss!" pleaded Jodie, rather
"Abbie, would you please hold Jodie's
hands," asked Sally.
Abigail moved to Sally's left, and prised
Jodie's hand away, grasping both wrists very tightly, keeping
them clear of the target area.
This brought an immediate response from Jodie,
who writhed and kicked and screamed.
"You bitches! You fucking bitches are
not going to spank me any more and you are not
going to take my knickers down!"
Astonished by this outburst, Sally tore down
Jodie's pants, and began furiously walloping her bare bottom
with all available force. Incensed by this, Jodie managed to
free one hand, threw it backwards, aiming for Sally's face,
and scratched anything in range. While Sally protected her face,
Jodie lifted her head and spat, leaving a trail of
phlegm across Abigail's blazer and tie.
Both furious and nonplussed, Abigail looked
at Sally and Sally looked at Abigail. Neither of them had seen
anything remotely like this before - and from an apparently-angelic
fourteen-year-old girl. St. Catherine's girls were used
to corporal punishment at home, almost without exception. They
might not like the spankings they got at school, but they knew
they were deserved, and they accepted them with maturity and
good grace. Usually.
"Don't you fucking dare, you bitches,"
"Maybe we should take Jodie to Miss Grainger,"
suggested Abigail, but Sally was steadfast.
"Oh no," she said. "We can
deal with this little brat."
"Just you try it," warned Jodie.
"I'm sure you wouldn't have spoken to
your father like that," said Sally, but this just brought
derision from Jodie.
"Ha! That wimp? I could say anything
I wanted to him. He wouldn't have done a thing."
"Now that's a lie. You admitted yourself
that he used to spank you when you were naughty."
"He daredn't lay a finger on me,"
said Jodie. "She thinks he used to spank me because
that's what she told him to do, and that's what he said he did."
Sally listened to this. "You're saying
now that your father never spanked you?" she asked the
"And your mother never did..." Sally
reasoned, "...because she thought he did."
There was something badly wrong here. Sally's
anger subsided. She lifted Jodie onto her feet, and the girl
pulled up her pants.
"So what did your father do?"
Sally asked Jodie, looking directly into her eyes, now seeing
a little honesty for a change.
"Nothing. He had a small, half-inflated
plastic football," said Jodie, remembering. "He would
sit with it between his legs and spank it, just as if it was
me, pretending to scold me. We used to laugh, but we had to
be careful in case my mother heard. We had to play along. I
would pretend to have a sore bottom, and sometimes I'd cry a
bit if it was supposed to be a big spanking."
"How long did this go on for?" Sally
asked, now quiet and solemn.
"From when I was seven, until they broke
up last year."
Sally was shaken by this. For six crucial
years of her childhood, Jodie had been denied exactly the sort
of discipline she needed. In fact, she'd been denied any parental
discipline at all, just like a young prince with a
whipping boy. Sally could imagine the first time: seven-year-old
Jodie, taken by her father into his study. She knows she's in
for a bottom-warming, so she charms him with her big blue eyes,
wheedles and cajoles, perhaps squeezes out a few tears. Her
father, too weak to discipline his little girl, yet needing
to placate his nagging wife, contrives a third way. Immediately
all is lost. His daughter has complete control, and is well
on the way to becoming a spoilt brat.
Just as if she'd been thrashed mercilessly
every day, Sally thought, Jodie had been systematically abused
for six years, by being denied the spankings she'd deserved
Poor kid, thought Sally, genuinely sympathetic.
She couldn't help considering that she herself had turned out
to be a good girl because she'd known for sure that
if she'd earned a spanking, she would have got it. Jodie, on
the other hand, had known that however badly she behaved, she
would never be spanked; and this had resulted in the
little monster she'd grown into.
To Abigail's surprise - and to Jodie's - Sally
wrapped her arms around Jodie's shoulders and hugged the girl,
just as tightly as she was able.
If there was a way back for Jodie, however,
it had to start immediately, with a spanking the girl would
remember for the rest of her life, to begin to make up for the
parental chastisements that she'd needed so badly, but never
received. Sally knew she was in a position to influence Jodie's
future, and she didn't intend to shirk the responsibility in
the same way Jodie's father had.
Sally guided the third-former to her bed,
and the two girls sat down, while Abigail cleaned up her uniform.
Sally took a deep breath, and thought about how she might approach
the matter in hand. The year before - certainly before Sally's
initiation into the corporal punishment philosophy across the
Headmistress's lap, her own school knickers around her knees
- the lecture she was about to give would have seemed bizarre
and a little frightening. Now, though, she was quite certain
that in many cases the cruellest thing to do to a growing teenage
girl was to remain stubbornly blind to her continuing need for
an occasional well-smacked bottom.
"Jodie," Sally began, trying to
appear both stern and caring. "This spanking is very
important. I know it's going to hurt, but you must realise that
you need it, and that it's for your own good."
"Piss off," muttered Jodie under
her breath, but Sally ignored the further abuse.
"You've shown by your behaviour that
you're just a bad little girl - and perhaps that's your parents'
fault - but it can change, and it's going to change, starting
right now. I'd prefer it if you showed that you're grown up
enough to know when you've earned a little-girl's punishment,
and to accept it like a big girl, but either way you'll be getting
a sound spanking before you leave this room."
Jodie set her jaw defiantly, to Sally's mild
"This is what's going to happen,"
Sally explained. "I'm going to put you back over my knee,
take down your knickers, and give you a hand-spanking on your
bare bottom. There'll be sixty hard smacks, and they'll hurt.
Then you can spend a few quiet minutes thinking about how you
can be better behaved in the future. Finally, it'll be back
over my knee for a dose of the hairbrush. This will last as
long as it takes for you to have learned your lesson."
"Piss off," Jodie repeated, louder
"By this time, you will be crying,
and I don't mean the sort of crocodile tears that would impress
your father. Understand?"
Silence from Jodie.
"Now then," said Sally, "are
you going to take the spanking like a big girl?"
"Piss!" said Jodie, spitting the
word out at both Sally and Abigail. "Off!"
So Sally leapt into action. Jodie was an uncontrolled
kid, but Sally was older, bigger, and stronger, and she had
little difficulty pulling Jodie across her lap, holding the
kicking, screaming girl around the waist. With Jodie's arms
and legs flailing about, there was no way she'd be able to administer
a proper, formal hand-spanking. This was not Sally's plan, however.
Keeping hold of the girl with her left arm,
Sally used her right hand to loosen the knot of her own school
tie, and pull the tie from her collar. She offered the tie to
"Abbie," Sally asked, "would
you please use this to tie Jodie's wrists together."
Abigail looked uncertain about this, and Jodie
squealed in protest.
"I'm not sure we should..." began
Abigail, but Sally was quick to reassure her.
"It's the only way, Abbie," she
said. "If she won't lie still, then she'll have to be restrained.
You can't hold her hands and her feet."
With some reluctance, Abigail agreed and,
between the two of them, they managed to use Sally's maroon
and grey striped tie to restrain Jodie's hands in front of her.
The third-former sprayed invective around the room, and struggled
against the knot, but was soon resigned to kicking her legs
like a novice swimmer.
"Now could you deal with Jodie's feet,
Abbie. Your own tie should do the trick."
Abigail wasn't at all sure about this. However,
after having removed her school tie, and having received several
kicks to the body from Jodie's feet, she was soon converted
to Sally's way of thinking, and tied Jodie's ankles with some
satisfaction, pausing to deliver - with Sally's tacit consent
- a few stinging palm-smacks to the bare-backs of Jodie's thighs.
Once thus restrained - the prefects stopped
short of gagging the girl, and she continued to spew out language
utterly at odds with her sweet visage and schoolgirl uniform
- it was easy for Sally to carry Jodie across to the spanking
stool, and to lift the girl across her knee, in the traditional
Sally gathered up Jodie's kilt, then lowered
her knickers to mid-thigh, the thick, snug cotton pants releasing
Jodie's little buttocks with a sigh, their pinkness remaining
from the earlier, milder smack-bottom. And the hand-spanking
There was certainly no enjoyment for Sally
in spanking this naughty little girl, but there was a clear
sense of satisfaction from doing a job that really needed to
be done, and doing it well. Her cupped right palm bounced blissfully
from alternate buttocks, delivering crisp, sharp, painful spanks.
As the hand-spanking progressed, Abigail and Sally noticed that
Jodie's protestations became diminished, as the smarting, glowing
sting in her bottom commanded her attention, and she fought
to retain her composure.
At the delivery of the sixtieth hand-spank,
Jodie's bottom had acquired a deep redness, the fingermarks
cross-hatching into an even shade. Jodie breathed heavily, her
face flushed, her fair hair untidy, her neck squeezing against
the crisp shirt-collar.
Without saying a word, Sally lifted Jodie
to her feet, dismounted from the stool, and then hoisted the
girl back across the seat of the stool, bare bottom-cheeks uppermost,
arms and legs tied, dangling, helpless.
"Five minutes," Sally announced.
The three girls sat and lay in silence. Sally noted that there'd
been no need to exhort Jodie not to rub her sore bottom; Jodie
squirmed, wishing she was able to do exactly that.
At some low mutterings from the third-former,
and at Sally's signal, Abigail rose to deliver a hearty wallop
to each bare cheek, and instruct the girl to: "Shush!"
It was a long five minutes for Jodie, listening
only to the metronome-throb of her smacked bottom, and she seemed
almost glad when Sally lifted her back over the knee and asked
Abigail to pass the hairbrush.
With long, slow backswings, Sally applied
the heavy wooden hairbrush, keeping an even tempo. There would
be no respite now until Jodie had been severely chastised. Jodie's
already-red buttocks flattened and rebounded as wood met tender
flesh, and the girl gasped with clear discomfort.
Soon, Jodie was bargaining for mercy.
"Please! That's enough! I'll be a good
girl! I've learnt my lesson!"
Sally continued the paddling. After a further
twenty blistering spanks, it was clear that Jodie could think
only of the pain in her bottom. Her body jolted with each stroke,
arms and legs kicking upwards; she screamed out pathetic pleas:
"Oh, it hurts! No more, please! Ouch!
But there was still some way to go, Sally
could see. "I don't see any tears yet, young lady,"
she admonished, right arm beating out a constant tattoo.
Jodie's bottom was by now a glowering, angry,
dark red, which contrasted sharply with her white thighs and
Another dozen-or-so, and Jodie's pleas subsided.
The brush-spanks were now followed by low grunts. A few more
really hard spanks on the crowns of Jodie's buttocks, and Sally
realised that the grunts were now guttural sobs. Taking this
as her cue, she stepped up the tempo, stepping on the gas as
would a car driver when the engine fires.
And the engine of Jodie's sobbing burst into
life. While she bucked involuntarily under each fresh blow from
Sally's hairbrush, Jodie's eyes streamed, her nose ran, and
she cried like a little girl lost.
Sally measured out a dozen good spanks, then
laid down the brush.
"Are you sorry for your misbehaviour?"
Sally asked, and it was a short while before Jodie could reply,
in a subdued and sniffing voice, to the affirmative.
"And you understand that if you're naughty
in the future, you'll get the same again?"
"Fine. Just a final dozen with my hand,
then, to make sure you remember."
This brought redoubled wailing from Jodie.
Sally laid her palm on Jodie's right buttock, cupping the soft,
quivering and extremely hot cheek, then delivered a brief, brisk
She set the tearful, contrite girl on her
feet, and gave her a big hug.
"After all that fuss at the beginning,
you took that rather well. All over now! Clean slate."
Sally untied Jodie's wrists and ankles, and
handed the girl a tissue. Suddenly released, Jodie used one
hand to clean up her face, and the other to very carefully attend
to her stinging bum. Sally lifted Jodie's chin, and removed
the third tie: the one around Jodie's collar. This she stowed
away in the box she kept for the purpose.
"Knickers up, Jodie!" chided Sally.
"And don't let me see you wearing non-regulation knickers
again. Knickers are part of your school uniform too."
Jodie hauled her chocolate-brown knickers
up underneath her maroon tartan kilt, and over her now-maroon-tartan
bottom-cheeks, the elastic waist-band and legs snapping into
place. She put on her blazer.
"Off you go then," said Sally. "Shoo!"
Jodie looked at the prefects with sore, red
eyes, then made her exit.
"That," said Abigail, as the two
sixth-formers turned up their shirt-collars and began to put
back on their ties, "was quite a spanking!"
When Abigail asked if it was the hardest spanking
Sally had administered, Sally was set to thinking.
Name: Jodie McAllister Punished by: Sally
Heriot Place of punishment: Head Girl's study Reason for punishment:
Persistent refusal to wear correct school uniform. Wearing non-regulation
knickers. Verbal and physical abuse of senior prefects. Nature
of punishment: Severe, formal spanking Position used: Over-the-knee
Adjustment of clothing: Kilt turned up, and knickers lowered.
Spanking administered on bare bottom. Implement used: Palm of
hand; back of hairbrush. No. of strokes: 60 hard hand-smacks,
followed by about 60 hard hairbrush spanks. Final 12 hand-smacks.
Comments: Spanking was continued until Jodie was crying freely.
Once she had completed the punishment log,
Sally was disturbed to discover that simple arithmetic told
her the answer to Abigail's question was 'yes'. Considering
the 50 spanks Jodie had been given on the knicker-seat, prior
to the 132 on the bare, over the knee, Jodie had been dealt
with most severely. Realising with a start that it had taken
rather more to bring this third-former to tears than had been
necessary during her own trip across the Headmistress's lap,
Sally was suddenly besieged by pangs of guilt. Had she been
to harsh? After all, the girl was only fourteen. And yet, she
thought, it had taken that much to make Jodie cry,
and that was necessary, wasn't it? Had she been justified in
tying Jodie's wrists and ankles? Well, what choice did she have,
if the girl wouldn't lie still?
Head spinning, and decidedly uneasy about
her omission from the punishment log of Jodie's school-tie restraint
(though no less uneasy about what did appear in the
log) Sally donned her blazer, and left for double Latin, knowing
that she would not be able to concentrate.
That Friday, Sally woke in a
hot flush, after the same, disturbing dream for the third
night running. She'd tied Jodie McAllister over a vaulting-horse
in the gymnasium, with her own school tie, for some trifling
offence, then proceeded to thrash the girl's bare bottom with
the sort of old school cane she'd only ever seen on television,
or in old comics. Jodie's striped bottom grew and grew, like
an overfilled balloon, until it burst deafeningly, jolting
Rubbing her eyes, Sally silently resolved
to approach Jodie with some sort of apology for the genuinely
severe walloping she'd received - the girl had been positively
angelic since her long trip across Sally's knee. Sally was sure
she could make the girl understand why she had needed a really
hard spanking, but also why Sally had maybe gone a little too
Also, Sally was quite smart enough to know
that she'd be in big trouble herself - enough for the hairbrush
on the bare bottom from the Headmistress - if Jodie decided
to report the circumstances of the spanking to a teacher.
Despite her conviction that Jodie's spanking
had been necessary and beneficial - Jodie's improved behaviour
surely attested to this - there was a permanent knot of guilt
in her stomach, and the dreams continued.
Seeing that she had woken late, and must rush
to get to morning assembly, Sally jumped out of bed, threw off
her flannelette pyjamas, and opened her wardrobe...
To discover, with a gasp, that the shelf which
normally held her maroon regulation school knickers was empty.
Empty! She'd just got ten pairs back from the laundry!
Sally's mind raced, but it didn't need to
race very far to get to the inevitable conclusion. How stupidly
naive she'd been!
Obviously, Jodie McAllister had taken them,
sometime during the night (doubtless while Sally was dreaming
guiltily of caning her chubby little backside). Sally's guilt
turned to a mixture of rage, respect for the girl's resourcefulness,
The logic was inescapable.
She had no regulation knickers to wear.
It was Friday morning, and there'd almost
certainly be a uniform inspection after morning assembly - one
She, the Head Girl, would be spanked, and
the whole school would know it. They wouldn't see her over the
knee, but they'd all know it had happened.
Sally thought of the week she'd spend unable
to wear her school tie. She felt sick, and at the same time
she needed the toilet.
Here was Jodie's revenge, served ice-cold.
Ignoring for the moment the problem of the
knickers, Sally put on the rest of her uniform, making use of
what time she did have to neatly arrange her shirt-collar and
knot the tie she'd not be wearing for a week. She tucked the
tie into the front of her tunic, between her breasts, then edged
it back a little, so that the tie stood proud of the crisp shirt-front.
As for knickers, St. Catherine's was a boarding
school, so the girls had little need for any clothes other than
their school uniform - Sally only had a couple of pairs of white
cotton panties, and no choice whatsoever.
She slipped a pair of the white panties under
her tunic skirt and over her fat bottom, where they felt comfortable
but...wrong. The thick, bottom-hugging maroon uniform knickers
were what she was used to, and she missed their presence in
the same way that she might miss the unyielding starchiness
of the collars of the boys' white school shirts she wore.
Stomach lurching, Sally dashed to the assembly
hall, and was one of the last to arrive before the grand entrance
of the teachers.
Sally saw Abigail Rice trying to catch her
eye. Abigail flipped up her kilt, and Sally caught a brief glimpse
of skimpy pink panties. Abigail took hold of her tie-knot and
mimed the act of removing her tie. Sally nodded, and both girls
managed weak smiles.
The assembly was nothing special: a couple
of hymns, some announcements and a short talk by the Headmistress
over the sea of plaits, pony-tails, bare knees and maroon uniforms.
At the final announcement...
"Very well! I think we'll just have a
quick look at your uniforms, shall we?"
...there were groans of boredom from most
girls. Sally and Abigail, despite their expectations, swallowed
hard, and blushed visibly.
Miss Grainger, the Headmistress, and Mrs Lapping,
the Deputy Head, made their way down from the stage, as the
schoolgirls stood, a few hurriedly pulling up their grey knee-socks,
or tightening their tie-knots, before placing their hands on
their heads, as they were required to do.
Sally watched as the Headmistress traversed
the left half of the front row of girls - these were first-formers,
the youngest girls in the school - and the Deputy Head took
the other half. Not that the uniforms worn by these little girls
were in any way different to those worn by the mature, young-womanly
upper-sixth-formers who stood - Abigail and Sally among them
- at the back of the hall, hands on heads. Their kilts covered
the same maroon regulation knickers; their legs were equally
bare between skirt-hem and knee-socks; their chests were equally
bare beneath the thin cotton of their white shirts. Moving in
different directions, the Head and Deputy Head inspected the
first-formers' uniforms. Sally was sure it was a sign she was
growing older, but to her these eleven-year-olds looked so little.
It seemed as if their formal uniforms were wearing them.
Whether naturally obedient, or simply frightened
by the idea of a punishment spanking, the first-formers had
made sure their uniforms were immaculate.
The teachers reached the ends of the row,
and passed behind. At this, each first-former reached down,
took hold of the hem of her maroon and grey plaid kilt, lifted
the material around to her front, gathering it at her waist.
An unbroken row of maroon-beknickered buttocks
was revealed, the pants tight across little bottoms, delineating
carefully each cheek. There were obviously no bottom-warmings
merited here. At the Head's signal, the kilts were lowered once
more, and scrutiny passed to the second-formers.
Sally's heart pounded. At least for Abigail
a spanking was no great novelty - Sally knew from conversations
that Abigail still had her bare bottom smacked by her mother
when she was particularly naughty. Her own experience of such
things began and ended with the hand- and hairbrush-walloping
she'd endured to get the Head-Girlship - and in the school,
only the Head, Abigail and she herself knew about this. At that
moment, she would gladly have accepted a spanking of similar
severity to avoid being caught without school knickers on -
such a juvenile, schoolgirl misdemeanour - and having the whole
school know about it.
It seemed that the second-formers had escaped
punishment - all buttocks were present, correct, and maroon
- until Miss Grainger stopped behind a pair of adjacent girls,
her trained eye having noticed something odd.
As if the girls were small infants being taken
to the toilet, the Headmistress whisked down both pairs of knickers.
In each case, what was exposed was not a pair of twelve-year-old
buttocks, however, but a face-flannel, cunningly sandwiched
between the outer pants and another pair worn underneath. Miss
Grainger took the flannels, and the outer knickers, tucked the
girls' kilts into the waistbands at the rear, then propelled
the girls towards the front of the hall with a stinging hand-smack
to each cheek. The girls stood shamefully, hands on heads, bottoms
At least, Sally thought, she and Abigail wouldn't
be the only ones going over the knee.
As the third-formers' kilts were lifted, Sally
was depressingly unsurprised to see that one of the two pairs
of non-regulation knickers revealed belonged to her sister Charlotte
- Charlie had a talent for naughtiness undiminished by regular
bottom-smackings, both at school and at home.
The identity of the other girl came as a huge
surprise to Sally - it was Jodie McAllister! - but only for
a moment. Sally's eyes met Abigail's, and they both saw Jodie's
plan: she intended to see the pair of them spanked,
and the only way was to earn a spanking herself. Sally couldn't
but feel respect for this single-mindedness, and also the bravery
of Jodie's taking another spanking so soon after the blistering
Sally had given her.
Charlotte and Jodie, kilts tucked up, took
a couple of hearty spanks each, then joined the second-formers
at the front.
Inspection of the older girls' uniforms was
always more stringent, though normally resulted in fewer sore
bottoms. As the girls grew, they seemed to take a mature attitude
towards their school uniforms: if they had to wear a uniform,
they might as well do it smartly - after all, the whole point
of a uniform was to be smart. (Also, quite a few of the older
girls positively enjoyed wearing their school uniforms:
the freedom from the vagaries of fashion was liberating; having
worn uniforms for many years, they were quite at home in a smart
collar and tie.) So the senior girls, almost without exception,
followed the uniform regulations to the letter. Whether because
of this, or because she just expected more from them, Miss Grainger
was less tolerant of small deviations from the uniform regulations
in older girls. With Sally as her Head Girl - who could always
be trusted to set a shining example, with the smartest uniform
of all - Miss Grainger rarely had to resort to spankings, however.
On this occasion, inspection of the uniforms
of the fourth- formers, fifth-formers and lower-sixth, resulted
in only a few admonitory hand-smacks for unbuttoned shirt-collars
and clumsily- knotted ties - certainly nothing which merited
sterner measures. This having been achieved, the Head and Deputy
Head moved to the upper-sixth - usually only a formality. Collars
and ties having passed muster, they moved behind the girls.
"Skirts up, ladies!" instructed
Sally swallowed hard, and closed her eyes,
as she heard the swishing of kilts and tunic-skirts - since
her purchase of a gymslip in the St. Catherine's tartan, several
other sixth-formers had acquired the traditional garments -
being lifted. Sally eased her skirt up over her bottom, knowing
that her white cotton panties - quite acceptable for school
uniform at a great many other schools, but not St. Catherine's
- were revealed.
A pair of loud cracks of palm on pink panties
told her that Abigail was found out, and she heard the girl
skitter to the front of the hall. There were a few gasps from
the younger girls - a House Captain! Spanked for wearing pink
Then Miss Grainger was behind her. The Head
issued a sigh of clear disappointment, and pulled Sally's skirt
from her grasp, tucking the fabric into the waist-sash around
There was a long pause, then...
Miss Grainger's hand left a smarting imprint
on each of Sally's buttocks.
"Get to the front, this instant!"
Utterly humiliated, Sally ran to the front
of the hall, trying to ignore the almost-audible sound of jaws
dropping. There didn't seem to be any enjoyment of Sally's predicament
amongst the girls, just sheer disbelief. For the Head Girl to
be caught without regulation knickers was just unheard-of, and
one or two first-formers could be excused for wishing to stay
just to see what it looked like for an eighteen-year-old
senior prefect to get spanked over the Headmistress's lap.
The six errant girls stood quietly, hands
on heads, as the rest of the school filed out of the hall, tongues
wound up for a good chinwag about what they'd just seen.
Soon all was quiet. There was some moving
of chairs, and the girls were told to turn around.
Sitting in straight-backed wooden chairs were
the Head and Deputy Head, Miss Grainger to the left.
"Very well," said Miss Grainger.
"Are there any excuses you'd like us to hear before we
warm your backsides?"
"Please, miss," blurted one of the
second-formers. "Our maths prep was just too hard! We spent
hours looking at it, but we just knew Miss Payne would
give us the ruler, and her eyesight isn't so good, so..."
"I suspected it was something like that,"
said the Headmistress, indicating the extra knickers and flannels
the girls had worn as protection. "That's no excuse, though.
Corporal punishment is for your own good, and it's important
that you learn to accept spankings when they are seen by teachers
to be necessary."
"Yes, miss. Sorry, miss," muttered
the girl, hanging her head, knowing that she was in for a pair
of spankings in the course of a single morning.
"No, miss," said the other second-former.
"No, miss," said Charlotte Heriot.
"No, miss," said Jodie McAllister.
Sally considered for a moment trying to make
some accusation concerning the theft of her knickers, but in
all honesty she knew it would seem feeble and immature. Moreover,
she was pretty sure that Jodie was smart enough to make sure
that Sally would never be able to prove anything.
Also - and Sally didn't have to do a great
deal of soul-searching to come to this conclusion - there was
a certain sense of justice here. She was aware now that Jodie's
spanking earlier that week - whilst necessary - had
been excessive, and that Jodie could have caused both her and
Abigail a great deal of trouble by reporting the spanking and
the way she'd been restrained. As it was, Sally wasn't sure
she'd avoid censure when Miss Grainger saw her punishment log.
It was, she felt, in the end, deserved.
"No, miss," said Sally.
"No, miss," said Abigail Rice.
"Blazers off, then!"
The girls removed their blazers, revealing
crisp white shirts and - except for Jodie, school ties.
"You two first," said the Headmistress,
indicating the two twelve-year-olds. They shuffled forward and
were unceremoniously deposited across the teachers' laps, kilts
already tucked up, out of the line of fire.
The Deputy Head, Mrs Lapping - a large, jovial
woman in her mid-fifties, with a soft, capacious lap, ideal
for the nursery position - was a left-handed spanker, so the
positioning of the girls meant that they faced each other. In
fact, if they'd reached out their hands, they could have touched.
"While we deal with this pair,"
said Miss Grainger to the others, "you'd better go and
fetch some proper uniform knickers. You're not getting spanked
over those...those things."
Jodie and Charlotte then both reached into
their blazer pockets, and fished out a pair of regulation knickers.
Jodie barely suppressed a giggle as Sally and Abigail shuffled
"Well?" Miss Grainger asked.
"Um..." Sally began, lamely, "I...er...I
haven't got any clean pants, miss. They're all in the laundry."
"Well, really! This childish behaviour
is not what I've come to expect from you, Sally Heriot."
"You realise this means a more severe
"You too, Abigail?" Miss Grainger
The Headmistress's vexation was almost as
obvious as Jodie's glee. Jodie was sure that they'd
get spanked on their bare bottoms now - just what she wanted
The second-formers, suspended still across
the teachers' knees. waited patiently for their hand-spankings
"You two," said Miss Grainger, pointing
to Jodie and Charlotte, "You can expect an extra dozen
for that little bit of cheek." She meant how they'd had
regulation knickers secreted in their blazers. Jodie and Charlotte
nodded solemnly. "Whilst you two sixth-formers - senior
prefects, no less - you can be thankful you're not getting the
back of my hairbrush on your bare behinds. You've this pair
to thank for that."
Jodie squeaked in surprise.
"Here," said the Headmistress, "put
these on." She handed Sally and Abigail the pants she'd
taken from the second-formers.
Jodie looked betrayed, and started formulating
sentences starting 'But...' Abigail beat her to it.
"But, miss," she said, "we
can't wear these! They're too small!"
"You'll put them on or you'll get it
on the bare!" warned the Headmistress.
"Yes, miss," Abigail accepted.
"Just two dozen for these young ladies,
I think," the Headmistress said to Mrs Lapping. "We
mustn't forget they've a rulering to come later today."
And the spankings began. Nothing severe. Just
solid hand-smacks on the girls' knicker-seats. The double-spankings
resounded around the hall like a very meagre round of applause.
The others dealt with their offending non-regulation
pants. Charlotte swapped her lemon-yellow panties (with teddy-bear
pattern) for school knickers. Jodie pointed her bottom towards
Sally and Abigail, and pulled down the same chocolate-brown
knickers that had earned her a spanking from Sally.
Both Sally and Abigail gasped at what they
saw. A full two days after being paddled with the hairbrush,
Jodie's bottom was a mass of bruising; a riot of sickly green
and purple blotches. The message was clear: Jodie was showing
the two of them why she'd got them spanked; also, she was showing
them that this matter was between the three of them. Showing
Miss Grainger those bruises would spell big trouble for Sally
and Abigail, but she hadn't done that.
Jodie pulled up her maroon knickers.
Suitably chastened, Sally and Abigail squeezed
into the second-formers' knickers. Abigail, though tall, was
quite slim, and the pants, though snug, were not too uncomfortable.
Sally, though small and boyish, did have rather a fat bottom,
and hers were a decidedly tight fit, squashing and flattening
her buttocks, which tried to escape in all directions.
The second-formers, flushed and tearful, sore
and contrite, were placed back on their feet, and after a little
bum-rubbing, they let down their kilts and wiped their eyes.
Charlotte and Jodie were next, and they draped
themselves over the knee with nonchalance.
The three-dozen hand-smacks each of received
were firm and crisp, but by no means a sound walloping. Nevertheless,
on top of the bruising, Jodie must have found them very painful,
Sally thought, and she was impressed by Jodie's stoicism. As
she was lifted to her feet, Jodie gave her bottom a quick rub,
let down her kilt, then walked stiffly, though with dignity,
back to the others.
Charlotte, Sally noted, showed no sign of
having been spanked at all, besides a slight flushing to her
And then Miss Grainger was calling Sally and
Abigail over for their spankings, and both of the prefects found
themselves held firmly across a teacher's knee. Sally, over
the Headmistress's lap for the second time, was face-to-face
with Abigail, whose long body draped over the lap of the Deputy
Head. Abigail's tie dangled towards the floor, rubbing against
her chin; Sally's, tucked away inside her tunic, did not.
Faced with only her second spanking, Sally
couldn't help making comparisons with the first. The most striking
difference was that for the previous spanking she'd been suspended
in mid-air across the Headmistress's knee, just like a naughty
little girl; here, she could easily touch the floor with her
hands and feet. If anything, this was more shaming:
she was being punished like a big girl, and the humiliation
of a big girl in the nursery position awaiting a childish bottom-smacking
Miss Grainger, left arm clamping Sally in
place, considered the bottom on display across her knees.
"Something a little sterner than the
hand is required here, I think," she said. "Do any
of you girls have a pair of plimsolls handy?"
Jodie responded at once, pulling a pair of
the rubber-soled gym-slippers out of her bag. She'd planned
for this, and also had available a broad-backed wooden hairbrush
and a plastic school ruler. It would be nice to imagine that
some of the wear on the soles of her own plimsolls was due to
their being used to spank Sally and Abigail's bottoms.
"Thank you, Jodie," said Miss Grainger,
as each of the teachers took a plimsoll, and measured it up
against a knicker-seat.
The prefects scowled at Jodie. Abigail knew
from maternal spankings that a slipper could impart a fierce
sting, even through school knickers. Sally could see quite clearly
now that her chastisement of the girl had taught her nothing
at all. It had revealed Jodie to be resourceful, persistent
and brave, but fundamentally without discipline. Sally realised
that her mistake had been trying to undo years of bad parenting
with a single session over her knee. It was this that
had resulted in her bruising and - yes - physically abusing
Jodie, and this was the misdemeanour for which she genuinely
deserved the slippering she was about to get.
Jodie had many spankings to look forward to.
They would be sound, but they'd also be controlled. Lack of
control was the naughtiness for which Sally needed to be punished.
There was a crystalline simplicity here, which
Sally's mind couldn't but accept: she had been a naughty
girl, and she did deserve to be spanked.
Plimsolls met tightly knickered bottoms, with
heavy whump!s, and sharp stings. Sally grimaced, and saw Abigail
grimace at the same time. It was like watching herself get a
slippering in a mirror.
The plimsolls rose and fell, bouncing off
And before Sally could even begin to feel
chastised, it was over. Two-dozen spanks.
Sally was so taken aback that Miss Grainger
had to tell her twice to get up and adjust her uniform. She
felt an odd compulsion to shout at the Headmistress: "What
are you playing at? That was a spanking for a five-year-old,
not an eighteen-year-old, like me! You should have made me cry!
It's what I deserved!"
But Sally could see the problem: she'd been
spanked for entirely the wrong thing. Her offence was improper
use of her Head Girl's corporal punishment responsibility; not
the trifling affair of non-regulation knickers. But what could
she do about that?
Miss Grainger ordered the girls to remove
their school ties, and there was a general unfastening of tie-knots
and pulling of ties from shirt-collars. The girls would be tie-less
for the next week as evidence of their having received formal
disciplinary spankings. Blazers were donned, and Miss Grainger
shoo-ed the girls away to their lessons, making sure to remember
to inform their teachers for the day that the girls' knickers
were to be checked at the start of each lesson.
Two of the girls departed in
a state of significant dissatisfaction.
Jodie had hoped - had sincerely believed -
that Sally and Abigail would be spanked on their bare bottoms.
That this hadn't happened, and that the slipperings had been
so...so feeble, was a big disappointment. There was
another plan to get them spanked severely, and on the bare -
and to see it happen - but it wasn't one she considered
lightly, since it meant taking another sound walloping herself.
Was it worth it?
Sally just felt a powerful sense of anti-climax,
and of injustice. She'd deserved a very sound spanking
- had anticipated it - but she hadn't got it. Didn't that make
her just like Jodie?
But, despite her dissatisfactions, it did
seem to Sally that the matter was finished with. Jodie had been
spanked - albeit excessively, and that would be corrected next
time. She and Abigail had been spanked - albeit feebly - and
this might as well have been for their part in Jodie's punishment.
The confusion of the week had caused Sally
to forget something rather important, however.
That afternoon, after lessons were over, she
had a few questions for Charlotte, whom she sat down in her
"How could you do something so stupid?"
Sally asked her sister. "So pointlessly naughty. I ought
to turn you over my knee here and now."
Sally knew this was an idle threat, and Charlotte
did too. Despite her sister's persistent mischievousness, the
Headmistress did not expect Sally to have to spank Charlotte.
Sally had, however, sent Charlotte to Miss Grainger's study
on many occasions, knowing the girl would re-emerge with a suitably
sore bottom. Charlotte, to her credit, seemed to accept sound
bottom-smackings as simply an occupational hazard for a teenaged
schoolgirl. There was no sulking, no resentment; she just rubbed
away the chastising smart, then got on with the next bit of
Sally couldn't help loving her bright, pretty,
"The thrill of not getting caught, I
suppose," said Charlotte, shrugging her shoulders.
"But you did get caught!"
Sally said, thoroughly exasperated.
"This time I did."
"You must have realised there'd be a
knicker-inspection this morning?"
Charlotte looked at her shoes, chewing her
lower lip. Lifting her face, she met Sally's gaze through a
long dark fringe.
"Sometimes," said Charlotte, choosing
the words carefully - this wasn't something she'd tried to rationalise
before, and she was quite aware of how difficult it was - "Sometimes
it's the thrill of getting caught."
Sally frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Oh, you'd never understand; you're always
such a good girl," Charlotte said.
"Not always," reflected Sally. "Anyway,
try to tell me."
"There's no thrill in being naughty,"
Charlotte began, "unless there's a chance of being caught,
and punished. It won't feel like there's a chance of being punished
unless it sometimes happens." Charlotte paused. "Sometimes
I need a spanking to show me exactly how far I can can go."
Sally tried to follow this. "And you'll
deliberately get yourself into trouble, to get a spanking?"
"Sometimes. Like today. Just now I need
"Need-ed, surely," corrected
Sally. "You got a slippering this morning."
"Oh, that was just a tickle," said
Charlotte dismissively. "I'm talking about a proper spanking.
From Daddy, when he comes tomorrow."
Sally's heart leapt at this. How could she
have forgotten that their wonderful father was coming to visit
his daughters the following day? She longed to see him. There
was always so much to talk about.
She was bothered by what Charlotte had said,
however, and tried to put this into words.
"But you don't..." she stumbled.
"...you don't like being spanked, do you?"
Charlotte snorted. "No! Of course not!
It hurts like hell when Daddy spanks me, and it's so humiliating
to be put over his knee like a little kid, and have my pants
taken down. It's just that..."
"What," asked Sally, genuinely intrigued.
"Well," Charlotte continued, "when
it's all over, and I've been soundly punished, Daddy hugs me
so tightly, and tells me that everything's forgiven, and I feel
so...so clean, as if all the naughtiness in the world
has been spanked out of me." Charlotte giggled, breaking
the tension. "Sal, I'm really not sure the feeling would
be so good if I hadn't been put over his knee, or if my pants
hadn't been taken down, or if I hadn't been punished really
soundly. The hurt is part of it, and the humiliation's part
of it too."
Sally couldn't help recalling her odd sense
of dissatisfaction after her slippering that morning.
"But then," added Charlotte, as
an afterthought, "you'll find out all about that tomorrow."
"What do you mean?"
"You know what I mean. We'll both be
spending some time bare-bottomed across Daddy's knee tomorrow,
after this morning."
Sally's mouth dried. She nervously ran a finger
inside her stiff, buttoned-up shirt-collar.
"But...but...it wasn't my fault! He'll
see that I didn't do it on purpose!"
"You know haw it is, Sal," said
Charlotte. "If we get spanked at school, we get another
spanking from Daddy. Or, at least, I do. I guess this'll be
your first time. No excuses, Sal. We both got caught."
Sally tried to think clearly, but her mind
was gripped by a five-year-old's blind panic at the thought
of going over her father's knee for a smacked-bottom. Surely
if she explained the circumstances of the slippering, he'd realise
that she hadn't really been such a naughty girl. Surely she
could convince him that she didn't deserve a paternal spanking.
But Sally knew that she would not
be able to convince him. She'd been spanked by the Headmistress,
and that was enough. He'd explain patiently, but sternly, that
she'd let both herself and her parents down, and his displeasure
would reduce Sally to a sobbing wreck even before he'd placed
her across his knee, carefully raised her gym-tunic skirt, taken
down her knickers, and begun to administer his eighteen-year-old
daughter's first fatherly bare-bottom spanking.
Sally was pale and shivery, and Charlotte
couldn't help but notice her sister's discomfort.
"Come on, Sal," she consoled, "it's
not so bad. Sure, it's pretty painful for ten minutes, and you'll
have a sore bum for a day or two, but in the end it's just a
"I'm afraid, Charlie," Sally said,
very quietly, very simply. "I have to find some
way of proving to Miss Grainger that Jodie took my uniform knickers."
It was the only way. Even if Sally could somehow
keep her father away from the Headmistress, he'd see her tie-less
collar, and he'd know she'd had a spanking; she'd never get
away with wearing a different tie - some little sneak was bound
to notice, and get her into even more trouble.
"I gave her a very hard spanking with
the hairbrush on the bare on Tuesday. Too hard."
"Ah. She's been awfully quiet since then,
and I did notice she wasn't wearing her tie."
"Only it turned out," Sally continued,
"that it was her very first spanking, and she didn't like
it one little bit. She put up a lot of resistance, and..."
"And?" Charlotte was intrigued.
"Well..." Sally continued, meekly.
"Abigail and I had to restrain her, so she'd lie still."
"What did you do?" Charlotte was
"We...we tied her wrists and ankles with
our school ties."
Charlotte gasped. "So that's why Abigail
got the slipper too. Blimey! I can see why Jodie might have
"She needed it, Charlie," said Sally.
"It got out of hand, but she's a bad kid, and she really
did have it coming."
"I won't argue with that. She's been
a real pain ever since she moved into the dorm."
"Will you help me prove she took my knickers?"
"Sure," Charlotte replied immediately.
Sally had an idea. She rummaged around in
her desk drawer, and shortly pulled out a small Dictaphone her
father had given her to help with her studies.
"Maybe you can get a taped confession,"
"Hardly!" Charlotte scoffed. "It's
not as if it's a big secret that we're sisters."
Sally sighed. Charlotte, however, had the
inklings of a neat plan.
"Perhaps," explained Charlotte,
thinking aloud, "she'd be only too eager to tell me she
did it if she thought I hated you."
"But why would she think that?"
"She might if she saw you giving me a
spanking for some trivial little thing."
"Oh, don't be daft, Charlie," said
Sally. "I'm not about to give you a spanking!"
"But it doesn't have to be real,"
Charlotte insisted. "It just needs to convince her."
Sally thought carefully about this. If she
could get a confession from Jodie, she'd be able to
persuade the Headmistress that the knicker-inspection slippering
had been unjustified. If she could do that, she might be able
to get her school tie back neatly underneath her shirt-collar
before her father arrived. She might - might - be able
to avoid her Daddy's strict discipline yet. She'd have to be
careful, mind. If Miss Grainger wanted to chastise Jodie for
the theft, her bruising hairbrushing would certainly come to
light, and Sally would be in even greater trouble. Not for the
last time, Sally wished she'd never seen Jodie McAllister.
Sally looked solemnly at her sister.
"Would you really do that, just to get
me out of a spanking from Daddy?"
"Of course I would, Sal," Charlotte
said. "You're my sister."
The schoolgirl sisters hugged.
[continued in part
2/2. . .]
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