The New Head Girl, The Ending a tale by Karla

Kirsty Woods walked slowly through the school grounds toward the old sanatorium hidden in the copse. The school was empty except for the maintenance staff and the live-in teachers. Kirsty’s belongings had been moved across to the Headmistress’s house where she was to stay tonight and the next night at the invitation of Mrs. Hall. As she ambled across the fields Kirsty felt sad and happy. Her results had earned her a place at Oxford but she was leaving this school that had nurtured her and made her the young woman she was. She felt she owed the school so much but unlike at the beginning of the year she now acknowledged she had given to the school too. Her mind wandered back over the year to her triumphs and her occasional failures. She remembered girls she had helped and guided. She was proud of the coaching scheme she had instigated, a scheme she was sure would reap a rich harvest in years to come. A cloud passed over her face as she remembered the times she had to endorse a corporal punishment for a girl, to her a sign of failure on her part. It was silly to expect herself to be responsible for every girl but she couldn’t help it. Under her year of Head girl the punishment book had less entries than any other year. Her philosophy was to spot trouble on the horizon, correct behaviour and educate. Unfortunately some of the girls were obstinate! This thought made Kirsty smile again. All in all she opined that her legacy was a worthwhile one, mostly good outcomes, very few negatives. Now she was going to move on and be the junior again.

Kirsty passed through the fence and approached the Head’s house, smiling wistfully as she remembered her first ever visit here. A visit which had her spanked like a child, paddled and caned for no wrongdoing on her part, just a belief that she should not sentence children to something about which she had no knowledge. She rang the bell and her sense of déjà vu was heightened when her pressing the bell resulted in Mrs. Ward her ex housemother opening the door just as she had on the first Friday of the new term.

“Hello my dear, how are you? Do come in, we are through here,” she had smiled warmly in welcome and led Kirsty through to the parlour a room with which Kirsty had become familiar over the past year. As she passed through the door Mrs. Hall rose from the table and came to meet Kirsty holding out both hands and taking Kirsty’s hands. “Welcome Kirsty, welcome indeed. May we call you Kirsty now you are leaving? And you must call me Jane, and Mrs. Ward is Elizabeth but we prefer Beth.”

Kirsty was a little overwhelmed, she had been meeting the ladies weekly to discuss school matters, had attended civic and school functions with them as head girl, but always they remained formal. Now she was leaving perhaps the ladies wanted to acknowledge her as a woman, an equal? “Thank you ma’am errr I mean umm Jane,” Kirsty stuttered, blushing when the now ex head smiled.

“Come sit down and let’s have tea, Beth you too.”

Soon the ice was broken and the three women were chatting amiably about the preceding year’s work. The two older ladies complimented Kirsty on her Oxford place and asked her what she intended. Kirsty always had the urge to help and serve and intended to go into Chemistry and Microbiology with courses on the uses of computers for number crunching. She had read of work on those lines looking into sources of disease. She had half formed ideas of her own but knew she first needed a good base knowledge. Jane Hall mentioned one of Kirsty’s soon to be professors and said she had written to her over the years and had mentioned Kirsty as a good prospect. Kirsty’s eyes lifted in surprise and then she remembered how deeply the professor had probed at interview. “I wasn’t always a teacher you know Kirsty, I had ten years in research before I took my Education degree because of the position opened here.”

Now Kirsty knew where Mrs. Hall’s almost encyclopaedic knowledge came from.  After the meal they lingered over coffee but moved to easy chairs. There was a subtle change in Jane’s voice as she attracted Kirsty’s attention. “Kirsty, you know I am 47 years old and Beth is 42?” As Kirsty nodded she continued, “I always wanted to be Head girl here, dreamed of it. Then I left and went into research and achieved a lot in my own small way. I burned out, or younger fresher minds came along and it became obvious to me they could best carry the flag forward. Serendipity stepped in and my old headmistress asked me to take an Education degree, teach her for five years and become Headmistress when she left. I accepted and have been happy here ever since.” Fascinated by the tale Kirsty still sensed there was an undercurrent here so she listened carefully, almost warily. “You have been the best head girl in memory, I am not one to brag, I was good, you were better. I plotted for my experience, you even refused to cheat in that. You came by your experience honestly and bravely.” Kirsty blushed knowing exactly to what experience Jane referred, the memory of her chastisement rushing back, incredibly she felt her bottom tingle as if it too remembered. “What I would like Kirsty is for you to go to Oxford, become the number one in your field and be the best. But I’d also like you to stay in touch, come visit in the summer perhaps and if you ever need a retreat or a refuge come here. Eventually if your work pales or comes to an end I’d like you to consider a teaching post here.”

Kirsty was dumbfounded, and humbled that this woman held her, a mere girl, in such high esteem. “I am so very flattered ma   errr Jane and I’d like nothing more than to call you my friend and visit you and Mrs. errr Beth.”

“Good, that’s decided then,” Jane exclaimed happily. “Now this weekend I’ve told my husband not to come up from London till tomorrow when we’ll be having the dinner party. My kids left home a few years ago, Beth’s are both in college and her husband knows she is staying the night as she always does the first day the school is empty.” The older ladies shared a glance, nodded to each other and Beth seemed to finish the sentence, “So it’s just us girls for tonight.”

“Kirsty,” Beth Ward asked, “I am sure you remember your first visit here don’t you?”

Kirsty blushed and nodded, certain no one could ever forget such an experience. Something about that evening still bothered her. It had never been mentioned again till now but Kirsty had been left with a feeling she had glimpsed something but not been allowed a full view. It was almost as though she had been tested and though found worthy not been fully accepted. She couldn’t explain the feeling but she remembered some odd looks the older ladies had shared, some odd words they had used. She leaned forward slightly suspecting she was about to learn the answer to what had troubled her.

“Well,” Beth continued, “you probably remember that we both,” here she indicated the head, “agreed with you that knowledge of a punishment should be a prerequisite of anyone involved in similar punishments?” Beth didn’t wait for Kirsty’s nod just carried on as if it was a given. “Jane and I have, over the years held a strong belief that one should acknowledge one’s own failings, accept any consequences of one’s actions and if any behaviour warrants punishment recognise one’s own guilt and accept the punishment.” Kirsty remembered their debate of that Friday when she had agreed in principle with the two wise ladies. Nothing that had happened since had changed Kirsty’s opinion. She believed that by judicious use of corporal punishment, suggested or endorsed by herself, a number of girls had been helped.

Beth settled back and Jane took up the conversation. “We are regularly called on to chastise girls physically and we always worry we have taken the right decision. We talk a lot as both our husbands work in the City during the week.” The usually confident headmistress seemed unusually hesitant and it was her deputy, Beth Ward that stepped in.  “There is no easy way to say this Kirsty; but please listen and if you are not happy we’ll just retire to bed, you can even use your old school room if you wish.”

Kirsty was enthralled but nervous, what could this dark secret be? What was the great mystery? She realised Beth was speaking again. “Everyone makes mistakes Kirsty, we are no different. However our mistakes affect the young girls in our care. So to make sure we remain humble and aware of our responsibilities once a year we assess our own performances and decide who has made the most mistakes, or the most serious mistake.”

Kirsty nodded, her admiration for these women confirmed, that they who seemed so all-knowing should question themselves only seemed appropriate. But why should this be the subject of such furtiveness? Beth’s next words dropped like a bombshell but explained so much!

“When we have decided,” Beth said clearly, “to clear our minds of the stress and guilt, to free ourselves, and to keep in touch with the girls we serve we punish ourselves. One of us is paddled and the other is caned, depending on who we decide carries most guilt.”

Kirsty felt her jaw drop, knew she must look like a foolish girl but she could not stop herself as her gaze switched between the two ladies. Her mind tried to imagine their actions but the concept was beyond the ability of her imagination. “Please don’t judge us, Kirsty. It is not a kink, we do this once a year, always on this night and we never mention it again. Over the years there is no doubt it has helped us to stay sane and it helps us to face the new school year.”

Kirsty nodded dumbly striving to come to terms with this revelation. She thought back to the beginning of her year as head girl, realised she had made a similar decision, accepted certain obligations with the privileges. She remembered how free she felt after her ‘session’ as she now thought of it. If she believed punishment could free girls from guilt and let them move forward why shouldn’t it work for mature ladies? Slowly she began to accept the reasoning but her mind balked at the thought of the reality. She looked from one to the other and realised they were waiting for a response. “Of course I would never judge you,” Kirsty started too loudly, then in a lower tone added, “I think it’s very brave of you to look at yourselves and acknowledge your own shortcomings. I try to do it all the time. I know from the experience you both gave me that punishment does free the mind so I think ‘well done you and it’s no one’s business but your own’ After all you hurt no one, and you help each other. Err but why did you tell me this?” she finished with a rising interrogatory tone.

“Ah yes,” Jane said as she rejoined the conversation, “there’s the crux of it. This year we have a dilemma, we both made a decision and we now think it was a wrong one. You remember you came to see us about Abigail? You advised us and we waited another half term before we took your advice. Abigail asked to leave after her O levels and we worked to prevent it. We persuaded her parents to make a decision for her that was not theirs to make. When Abby did leave she got employment at a bank and is thriving. We both held her back.” Kirsty’s eyes misted as she remembered the saga, she saw again the troubled girl trying to achieve academic excellence that was beyond her. She nodded and brought her attention back into focus as Jane continued. “So now here we are, we both earned the cane, neither is more nor less guilty. It’s difficult, never happened before.”

“But,” exclaimed Kirsty, “why should that be a problem? Surely you should each just accept a caning. Why have you told me this.” Kirsty had a sudden thought, “You don’t want me to choose who should be paddled and who should be caned do you?” This she thought would be impossible, she admired both ladies equally.

“No Kirsty,” Beth interjected, “that’s not we wanted of you. Traditionally one of us is paddled at 8:30 and an hour later when the pain has gone that person canes the other. It just seemed so wrong to us that we break that tradition in this way.”

“So, Kirsty,” broke in Jane, “we thought of an alternative just for this year.” Jane Hall settled back and left the floor to Beth.

“What you have to fully understand Kirsty is what we saw in you. You never tried to trick a spanking from anyone. You were always stuck to your principles, proved your moral purity. You have been far and away the best head girl, an inspiration not just to the girls but to the staff. Our respect for you is unreserved.”

As Beth leaned back Kirsty’s head swivelled towards Jane as she spoke formally, “Kirsty Woods, you are the truest pupil ever to leave this school and we would be honoured to receive our annual punishment from you. Would you please grant us this request and ease our guilt?”

Kirsty could only look from one woman to the other, her mind going round and round in circles. Now they had put the case the ladies settled back and regarded Kirsty calmly, patiently waiting, obviously trying not to pressure her. They seemed ready to accept whatever decision Kirsty came to. Kirsty shook herself and knew it was unfair to keep them waiting, but she knew she had to. “Beth, Jane,” she said looking from one to the other. “I’m sorry but I need time to take this in, may I go to my room and unpack my stuff for tonight and think for a while. I’ll be down before eight I promise so your plans can go ahead either way.” The time she saw was 7:40. The ladies exchanged looks and nodded and Jane as host and spokesperson answered, “Of course my dear, take as long as you want.”

In turmoil Kirsty rushed to her room and let her mind go over the year. There was something Jane and Beth should know, and deserved to be told. It did however affect Kirsty as well, indeed it had opened up issues for her too. Whilst her mind performed the mundane domestic tasks Kirsty thought long and hard. In ten minutes her conscience could only see one course. The remaining ten minutes she used to wash her face, clean her teeth and refresh her mind. Exactly on time she returned to the study and both heads turned expectantly towards her. She went over to her recently vacated chair and faced them both as they leaned forward.

“Beth, Jane,” she began, “I really admire your attitude and your beliefs. You have taught me to take responsibility for myself and to accept any consequences. Your decision to accept punishment on this night I also think a wonderful idea, but there is something you need to know, so please let me speak and finish before you go any further.” The ladies again exchanged glances, this time with raised eyebrows, then settled back obviously willing to go along with Kirsty. “You say that the gravest mistake this year was not listening to me about Abigail.” Both ladies nodded as Kirsty continued, “You think you put her through more anguish than was necessary. But what you didn’t know is I should have come to you a month earlier. Abigail had been begging for my help but I foolishly thought everyone should pursue an academic career like me. If I had come to you earlier and you had delayed, still she would not have become as unhappy as she was, the fault was mine. So now do you think you could revert to your usual system and deal with yourselves?”

“Kirsty, Kirsty you poor girl,” said Beth with a voice husky with sympathy. “I hope you have not been berating yourself over this. You were head girl and we were headmistress and deputy. The responsibility was ours. You were exemplary in your behaviour. I think Jane will agree it is still us that deserve to be punished for poor Abigail’s torment”

Jane nodded emphatically, “There can be no blame on your shoulders Kirsty, the fault is all ours.”

Kirsty knew she was at a focal point in her life, She had tried to avoid this but knew it would end this way. Her course of action had been decided up in her room ten minutes ago.

“Jane, Beth,” she began timidly but spoke with growing confidence. “You both believe that you share the responsibility and if I agree with you then you must accept that I too am responsible. We three all hold the belief that as people we should be willing to accept the consequences of our behaviour. So yes I shall cane you Beth at 8:30, and then you Jane but only if you agree that I should be caned as well. Only if you can understand I too share your guilt”

The three women looked at each other and when the head and her deputy nodded Kirsty nodded too, and so the pact was made.

“Very well Kirsty,” agreed Jane, “I again must say how true and honest you are. It shall be as you say. But if you cane Beth and I, who should cane you? It might not be a good idea to be punished by someone whose bottom still hurts from your ministrations!”

Kirsty, partly to cover her nerves laughed “I trust you both, but you both punished me before why not share the chore again, and let’s wait till 10 for my punishment if that helps. I see there is a weepy film on the TV at 10:30, after I’ve got over my tears why don’t we settle down with horlicks and watch that and just be close to each other?”

Beth shook her head and murmured, “from the mouth of babes,” as Jane with a look of wonder at this young girl’s wisdom nodded her approval.

“Very well,” said Jane, taking charge as she usually did as headmistress, shall we go through to the study? Without waiting for a reply she held the door open and followed Beth and Kirsty across. As Kirsty crossed the threshold she saw the study had been arranged as it had been for her first caning now a distant memory but one so clearly remembered. The only difference was that the table held only the senior cane. That brought a small hesitation to Kirsty’s step but she continued in with her resolve unchecked.

Jane walked over to the table and picked up the senior cane. “Kirsty” she said,  “can you remember the technique? To lift the cane shoulder high and keep your arm straight as you bring it round and down.” She approached an easy chair, lifted her arm and brought it down swiftly, the cane making it’s heavy passage before striking the chair with a dull thump. Kirsty saw that unlike squash there was no wrist action at all. She nodded and Jane passed her the cane. Measuring the weight she lifted the polished wood to the correct height and concentrating on keeping her arm straight brought the cane down. The sound was similar but the aim was off, she was at least six inches away from her intended point of contact. Frowning Kirsty realised just how skilled Jane and Beth must be. “Sorry she said, “I need practise or best not to involve me.” Encouraged by the others Kirsty persisted and found her natural sporting ability led her to the answer. To relax the arm even when it was held straight and to let the shoulder pivot, that way wherever she looked and tapped with the cane she was within millimetres of where it landed. Finally satisfied she nodded. “I’m ready,” she told the others. If you trust me I’ll try to perform as well as you.”

“You’ll be fine,” said Jane as she stepped back and sat in her chosen chair. “Beth and I believe we must be held more accountable than the girls and our punishment is ten strokes with the paddle or senior cane. Because of different fashion tastes we long ago decided that bare bottoms were fairer. This isn’t a game, it wasn’t a dare it just seemed natural. I only tell you this so you won’t be too shocked when all is revealed,” she smiled. “Now Kirsty you must fulfil your duty, you must take charge.”

When Kirsty heard the words she took a number of steadying breaths. She would not argue with what had worked so well for these admirable ladies. Year after year they totally committed to a new intake of girls and continued to guide those already in their charge. If this helped them, then so be it.

Kirsty moved to a position to the left of the table’s end and looked at Beth. “If you are ready Beth, please assume the position.” She amazed herself when she heard the confidence in her own voice. She watched Beth nod and smile encouragement before she stepped forward with a calm but serious face. “Oh what a sweet generous lady,” thought Kirsty “thinking only of me even as she submits to this.’ Kirsty prayed that she would be able to perform in a satisfactory manner now for both ladies. She watched closely as Beth approached the table. Without a word Beth reached for the hem of her cotton dress and lifted it high to her waist level. As she bunched it in front of her Kirsty couldn’t stop herself looking up and down her long sturdy legs. She looked every inch the hockey player and stand in gym teacher she was. For a 42-year-old she looked from the rear like 25-year-old, firm buttocks, curving down to long muscular legs. Kirsty watched her buttocks tighten and her thigh muscles stretch as she lowered herself onto the table trapping her dress in place. When Beth reached over to grip the far edge of the table the already tight flesh covering her buttocks tightened more, her bottom seemed to rise slightly as if positioning itself for what was to come. Beth could see the pink moist centre between Beth’s legs and some tangled hair. She forced herself to ignore that and concentrated on her target. She thought back to what she had been told and chose a striking area. She knew the coccyx had to be avoided and decided on a target area from an inch below that to the lowest point of contact which should be if the lower edge of the cane just touched the crease at the top of Beth’s thigh. Nodding she gripped the cane firmly, forced her arm to relax even as it hung very straight at her side. Kirsty stepped forward and raised the cane, still keeping a straight arm and touched it to Beth’s tight cheeks an inch below her coccyx. Beth’s cheeks clenched and relaxed as her body reacted to the cool touch of the wood. Estimating the distance she had to play with Kirsty prepared a plan even as she tapped Beth’s bottom twice where she intended the stroke to land. She saw and heard Beth take a breath and hold it as she lifted the cane. Concentrating on relaxing her arm and keeping it straight. With eyes locked on her chosen target Kirsty let her arm swing naturally from the shoulder, letting the cane arc down and make contact with a startlingly loud thwack right down on target. So intent was Kirsty on her technique she hadn’t thought about the possible effect on Beth. She watched the cane land and dig into both Beth’s buttocks, the flesh flattening and seeming to half envelop the wood even as the cane bounced back out as though expelled by her flesh as her buttocks bounced back. A heavy white line appeared even as Beth tensed and hissed with pain, but other than that she remained in place.

Kirsty positioned the heavy cane an inch below the white line that before her eyes grew a red line at each edge. She swore she could see the flesh rising but still worried about letting the ladies down she concentrated on the job in hand. Kirsty pressed the cane gently into Beth’s tight cheeks as if fixing the target in her mind. Then she softly tapped Beth’s bottom twice and lifted the cane. Again she fixed her eyes only on the target and brought her arm down, still straight, only the shoulder pivoting. This time the sound of the cane through the air broke through her concentration, a sound she remembered, again the cane landed on target with a loud thwack, dug in and bounced back. Beth hissed again, lifted her head almost thoughtfully as if questioning herself, then lay forward again. Not yet willing to relax, aware of the great responsibility Beth placed the cane against Beth’s bottom again an estimated inch lower. Pressing softly she saw Beth tense and force herself to relax, then after tapping Beth twice to alert her she raised the cane and brought it down where her eyes were locked. Much to her relief the technique was working, the cane landed nicely in place, as the cane dug in and bounced back Beth hissed a little louder, her buttocks clenched and relaxed once or twice then she sucked in two ragged breaths. Beth took a second or two to examine her work, three parallel lines now decorated Beth’s bare bottom. The first line now looked angry and painful, the second was beginning to swell and the third was just showing its’ red edges. Kirsty placed the cane across the middle of Beth’s cheeks and pressed to fix her target. Beth became still as if wanting to help Kirsty, so she tapped twice and lifted the cane to bring it smartly down again. Now the action was beginning to feel natural, Kirsty still had to fix her eyes but now she could fully appreciate how far the cane dug in, almost half it’s width before bouncing out. She saw the way Beth’s flesh sprang back, how the flesh turned white then grew red outlines. She hear Beth gasp this time, she moved her left leg a few inches to one side and back. Vaguely aware of the increased view of her pink moist centre and straggly hair Kirsty kept her mind coldly in check. She realised that four strokes had covered half of Beth’s bottom and she only had room for three more below unless she changed her plan. She made a decision and deliberately places the cane only ¾ of an inch below the line across the middle of her bottom. Again as the cane was pressed home Beth by an effort of will became still as if wanting Kirsty to do well. Unsure Kirsty tapped twice, then once more from slightly further away, then satisfied she slowly raised the cane and brought it down. It landed with a hairsbreadth separating the cane from the previous stroke, she had missed by a few millimetres but was satisfied. Beth reacted by yelping like a girl and kicking her left leg a little wider, then lifting her right foot and stamping twice. The loud thwack registered on Kirsty’s mind even as Beth’s reaction did. She watched the latest line’s red edges meet and touch the previous strokes red edge and knew she must try harder, she nearly caused more suffering than she intended. Going back to basics Kirsty positioned the cane again ¾ of an inch lower. This time she concentrated as hard as she did at first, pressed and then tapped twice. Beth, brave lady that she was forced her body to stillness, giving Kirsty every chance. Her heart leapt as she saw the cane land with its’ meaty thwack exactly where she intended. Beth’s body convulsed as she gasped in pain and Kirsty knew from her own experience that she was reaching the tender spots. Beth’s left leg was stamping now, her breathing was rapid and heavy, she was obviously in pain but her position was still almost perfect. Kirsty placed the cane and waited for Beth to regain control and become still. This she almost did so Kirsty tapped her cheeks twice and lifted the cane confidant Beth would hold her breath and be still to receive the stroke. Beth co-operated and Kirsty brought the seventh stroke down smoothly to land on target, the cane digging deeper almost burying itself in the soft flesh low down. Beth stiffened even as she yelped louder, her bottom clenching and relaxing, wiggling a little as if to dispel the sting. Her legs were both stamping now and Kirsty suddenly realised that this strong woman she had admired for so long was sobbing into the table. Still though her hands remained outstretched to grip the far edge of the table. She uttered no pleas for clemency and though she was moving her bottom was still offered sweetly. Kirsty felt something inside her go out to Beth and for an instant was going to end this. Then she spent a moment considering being gentler but then a truth illuminated her brain. This was what Beth wanted, a real release from guilt a payment for her mistakes, a realistic payment. She knew anything less from her would be an insult. With new resolve she considered Beth seeing that now to land a stroke just above the edge of her thigh crease would be extremely difficult. Should she command Beth to raise on her toes? Should she reposition Beth. Kirsty decided she could manage if she was careful and she bent her knees to lower her arm and shoulder. Balancing as if playing squash Kirsty pressed the heavy cane into the softest part of Beth’s bare cheeks and pressed gently. Beth continued to sob but made an obvious if vain effort to become still. Kirsty tapped twice and lifted the cane and brought it down at the instant Beth held her breath and tensed her body for her. The cane dug deep at an upward angle and seemed to lift both of Beth’s cheeks before it bounced out and her flesh settled again. This time the noise forced from Beth could only be described as a soft scream. Her bottom was now decorated with eight lines, two almost joined and all but the latest two now raised and angry looking. Faint blue bruising could be seen along the first stroke. Beth was unashamedly sobbing like a child now, her sniffling clear as mucus was loosened.

Kirsty had followed her plan exactly, now she had to steel herself to administer the final two strokes. She intended to angle them across the weals already formed. The first she wanted to lay across the first four lines so she very, very carefully positioned the cane, checking the tip disappeared before it touched the fifth line. Then squinting she concentrated and tapped Beth’s bruised rear. Beth flinched as though she knew what was coming but made a frantic effort to calm her breathing and sobbing. Her left leg was now trembling as if with effort. Kirsty lifted the cane, saw Beth freeze and brought it down thankfully where it was intended. The meaty thwack was lost in Beth's scream as the cane dug deep and across the four weals, her whole torso lifted, her bottom thrust back and forth. Her legs kicked but to Kirsty’s amazement her hands remained in place to keep her bottom more or less at its’ correct position. Kirsty breathed deep and positioned the cane again, pressing it down from the middle line across to the lowest line at the edge of her right cheek. Beth was crying loudly but even through that her body language showed she knew what was happening. She lifted on her toes, settled back and her bruised and battered body slowed and presented itself a final time. Kirsty tapped twice and brought the cane up and down swiftly before Beth began to wriggle again. Once more Beth screamed, her heart seemed to be pouring out with her tears and now for the first time she spoke. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she cried, to whom Kirsty had no idea, for mercy, for forgiveness from Abigail or just as a release. Kirsty stepped back and put the cane down. Jane stood and joined her and together the young girl and the stern headmistress looked down at the sorry crying figure before them. Beth's bottom was now just a mish-mash of lines and bruising but Kirsty was relieved to see no broken skin. She had seen worse injuries on a hockey field where the impact and bruising had swollen enough to split the skin. Without knowing it the two women reached out and held hands and wordlessly waited for their companion. After two minutes Beth's hysterical sobbing slowed to a steady crying like a child in pain. Wearily she pushed herself up and turned to face her friends, her dress slipping back over her hips. Instinctively Jane and Kirsty reached for Beth who almost collapsed into their arms and began to cry afresh. This time there was a different note in her cries, a healthier note, as if she was releasing emotion. Eventually she looked shyly up at them, fixed her eyes on Kirsty and whispered “thank you I feel so much better now. I really do need this.” Kirsty’s heart swelled with pride and wrapped together the three women swayed and comforted Beth. Soon though Beth edged them back to their chairs and sat somewhat gingerly in hers. “Ouch,” she said, “I’m not used to this, but Kirsty thank you again it was exactly what I needed.”

Kirsty looked between the two women wondering just for an instant if she had been tricked. Jane caught her look and laughed softly as she intuitively surmised its’ meaning. “No Kirsty what Beth means is this will be my third caning in a row, Beth was paddled the last two years. You see I am fallible, very much so.” Kirsty nodded with understanding and relaxed. Jane and Kirsty stayed close to Beth comforting her as she gathered her wits and her dignity after her ordeal. Jane spoke softly to Kirsty.

“That was as good as a caning as I’ve ever seen Kirsty, you have that rare talent, you THINK of the receiver you don’t just beat them. By the way you used the cane you spoke to Beth, let her know your intention, allowed her to prepare. I’m proud of you, as I knew I would be. I cannot say I am looking forward to my caning but I now know it will be exactly what I deserve and expect.

The enormity of it hit Kirsty again, soon she would be caning the woman who had almost ruled her life for three terms a year for seven years. Kirsty was suddenly frightened again. “Don’t worry my dear you’ll be fine,” Jane sympathised as she saw Kirsty’s expression, “I am a witness to your professionalism.” Kirsty relaxed and once again concentrated on Beth who was now wiping her nose and beginning to smile ruefully. “Kirsty,” Jane spoke softly again, “if you find it as difficult to fit eight strokes onto my bottom don’t worry too much, a single overlap will hurt me but it won’t kill me. If you think it’ll help tell me to rise onto my tiptoes, remember YOU control the punishment, not me. Use your instincts, believe me they are good, very good. The way you stooped to catch Beth perfectly was superb.” Kirsty nodded gratefully at these words of sincerely offered advice.

Beth had recovered enough now to enter the conversation. “Kirsty thank you for that, I feel really good now, revitalised so I can enjoy the summer and look forward to the coming year. Far easier and simpler than therapy, if somewhat uncomfortable for a few days.” With that she shifted on her seat seeking comfort and only managing to hurt herself enough to wince. Kirsty had to smile. “You are as good as Jane at this you know, and she is the best that ever caned me. Now I am recovered enough to be alone for a while, hadn't you two best get on with Jane’s just desserts?  And remember Kirsty as Jane told you, YOU are in charge, help yourself and Jane by taking charge just as you did with me.”

Kirsty turned to Jane who was already standing, a calm, almost trance like expression on her face. Kirsty took up the cane and her position again and cleared her throat before speaking. “If you are ready Jane please take up your position for punishment.” Waiting with the cane by her side Kirsty watched her former headmistress approach the table. As she passed close by, just as Kirsty’s resolve was crumbling Jane reached out to grasp Kirsty’s upper arm, squeezed briefly and nodded approval. Kirsty felt a weight slip from her and knew now she would not let this wonderful woman down.

Jane Hall, 47 years old, finest headmistress the school had ever know stepped to the table and reached down to her hem. As efficiently as she performed most tasks she bunched up her own cotton dress up over her hips revealing her strong thighs and bottom. Kirsty noted in passing that Jane was as tall as Beth but her legs were shorter as she had that long deep chest. Her buttocks Kirsty saw were rounder, perter than Beth’s, and their curve would mean she’s have to be very careful as she angled each stroke. As Jane bent forward over the desk Kirsty noted that she reached the far edge easily, gripped and rested her face on the desk as though she had not a care in the world. Kirsty also noticed that like Beth Jane also had the muscle structure of a young woman from behind. Obviously all her jogging and cross-country running was worth the effort. Kirsty stepped forward and with great precision placed the cane an inch below Jane’s prominent coccyx. Calm now the moment had come Kirsty concentrated hard, wanting Jane’s experience to be as good as Beth’s, without stupid mistakes from her. She pressed, tapped twice and lifted the cane, brought it down smartly exactly on target. The same loud thwack reverberated round the room, the cane dug slightly deeper than it had with Beth, making Kirsty realise Jane’s was either more relaxed or her muscles were not as resilient. Jane’s reaction to this first stroke convinced Kirsty it was a matter of relaxing the muscles, as Jane gave a thoughtful hiss, closed her eyes briefly, tensed her buttocks then relaxed them and lay quietly. As with Beth a white line appeared, again its’ edges became red lines and the flesh began to rise before Kirsty’s eyes. Kirsty placed the cane on Jane’s rounded cheeks just a little closer than she had with Beth. Jane couldn’t help a twitch from her bottom but otherwise remained calm and still. Kirsty tapped, raised the cane and brought it down. The thwack echoed, Jane’s bottom seemed to accept almost all the cane before it bounced back, she hissed again, clenched her bare cheeks together but as far as Kirsty could see she moved hardly at all. Kirsty studied her bottom and saw that though the flesh from the first stroke was rising just as Beth’s had done, the blue bruising had not appeared yet. Thoughtfully she positioned the cane an equal distance from the second stroke. Jane took a deep breath and held it as Beth tapped her backside twice and raised the cane before bringing it down to dig deep into her bottom again. Her hiss was noticeably louder, her cheeks remained clenched for longer but again she managed to remain still. Kirsty placed the cane again pleased to note that this time the fourth stroke would land just above the half way mark she had imagined. This time she had got the spacing right. She pressed the cane into Jane’s flesh, tapped softly to alert her then raised the cane. This time there was definitely pain in Jane's hiss. The cane buried itself, bounced out, and as Jane clenched the white flesh began to rise. The first stroke was raised clearly now, edged in red but there was still noticeably less bruising than Beth had shown. For the fifth time she placed the cane just below the half way point, pressed gently, tapped and raised the cane to bring it round to thwack meatily against Jane’s naked cheeks. This time as the cane dug in Jane offered a quizzical “ouch” as if surprised it should hurt. Her bottom clenched again, and for the first time she wiggled. As Kirsty placed the cane in preparation for the sixth stroke she realised that Jane’s ample curve was going to make it difficult to land two more on her soft tender lower cheeks. But Kirsty concentrated on her chosen spot and pressed softly before tapping her bottom. She lifted the cane and with a now practised straight arm brought it down the land solidly across Jane’s bare cheeks. Jane flinched for the first time as the cane dug deep into the soft flesh. Another straight white line appeared, Jane clenched and relaxed twice this time before laying still again as if she was determined Kirsty should shine. Kirsty for her part almost dropped the cane when she saw clear liquid beneath Jane’s head. Looking closely she saw that Jane was weeping silently, no drama just letting tears flow freely. Kirsty couldn’t believe that she was responsible for reducing this strict but fair minded woman to such a state! When Kirsty placed the cane again it was as she thought, the rounded shape of Jane made caning the lowest part of her bottom difficult. Kirsty removed the cane, repositioned it and confirmed what she already knew. Jane must have known this from previous experience and now Kirsty did as Jane had advised.

“Jane,” she ordered softly but firmly in a voice that brooked no other response than obedience. “Lift up onto your tiptoes and remain in that position.” Jane cocked her head, made sense of the words and slowly and silently rose up onto her toes. Still the curve might defeat her so Kirsty ordered Jane, “shuffle your feet back Jane, I want your bottom further out.” Jane without protest or sign of surprise began to shuffle her toes back, slowly inching her bottom further out, exposing the soft underside. Kirsty kept the cane just above the crease till she was sure both the next two strokes could be landed accurately. She tapped Jane’s bottom and ordered, “stop there, that is fine, hold still now Jane.” Jane immediately brought her feet together, still up on her toes. Throughout she had continued to weep, for whom Kirsty had no idea. She placed the cane against Jane’s bottom, the same distance below the sixth stroke, Jane seemed to lift her bottom away from the cane but Kirsty thought it was an involuntary flinch. She tapped Jane twice, lifted the cane and brought it round to thwack solidly into her soft underside. The effect was immediate, Jane groaned loudly in pain her buttocks clenched and unclenched furiously, her tears became sobs as the flesh was again raised on her bottom. Kirsty took in the whole of the picture before her, a mature woman now sobbing in pain and with remorse as a result of her actions. Calmly she did, as she knew Jane wished, she placed the cane just above the crease at the top of Jane’s thigh. Jane seemed to sag down then make an effort and lift back to her toes again. Kirsty pressed, tapped and lifted the cane and deliberately brought it down firmly against Jane’s bottom. Jane let out an “oof” that was filled with pain and more. Kirsty watched the now familiar weal appear across Jane’s bare cheeks, nodded not with pride or approval but with a professional’s appreciation of a job well done. “Back onto your feet Jane, resume your position” she ordered. She felt no power just absolute control of the situation as Jane obeyed without hesitation even though she was now sobbing loudly. At what cost Kirsty knew not but she became still again as she waited for her final two strokes. Kirsty placed the cane at an angle across the first four raised stripes, from the top of Jane’s left cheek to just touch the outer edge of the fourth strip on her right cheek. Tapping her bottom twice Kirsty raised the cane and brought it firmly down, the cane digging deep and crossing the four weals. This time Jane did scream her protest, her head lifted and her long drawn out “noooo” seemed to bounce off the walls. Kirsty saw though that she had not let go of the table. Her sobs were now heartfelt, her bottom was wriggling and clenching and for the first time her feet were stamping. But she remained in place! Rather than force Jane onto her toes again Kirsty elected to crouch and angle the cane up from the crease on her left thigh to the middle of her right cheek. She tapped Jane and swiftly raised the cane and brought it firmly down to thwack against Jane’s battered but strangely only faintly bruised bottom one last time. Jane gave vent to her agony and shrieked, her body shook with sobs, she was a piteous sight before the two women. Slowly thoughtfully, not taking her eyes from Jane Kirsty put the cane down. She felt Beth alongside her and she took her hand without conscious thought. Side by side they waited for Jane to regain her composure. Her sobs eased quicker than Beth’s had but she was obviously feeling just as much pain because she remained over the table longer, eventually reaching back to explore the raised weals on her bottom. After three minutes she took a huge shuddering breath and pushed herself up and turned straight into Kirsty and Beth’s arms. “Thank you Kirsty,” she mumbled into their bodies as she clung to them. Abigail is now a memory I can live with. You have released me, thank you, thank you.” Kirsty’s eyes met Beth’s across Jane’s head and Beth nodded her approval as she stroked Jane’s back. Soon Jane became calm and eased away to sit again. The others joined her and they looked shyly at each other.

Jane smiled across at Kirsty and turned to Beth, “You know she is very, very good at this. Like you I was in no doubt as to what she wanted or who was in authority. She was consistent too, no increase in severity and no insulting mercy either. A good thorough caning, just what I needed.” She then laughed ruefully as she shifted with obvious discomfort on her seat.

The three chatted openly about discipline and punishment, the psychology and the physical. Kirsty listened more than she joined in but she nodded as the older ladies put into words what she already sensed. At one point Jane asked Kirsty if she had considered having her (Jane) move away from the desk and touch her toes as indeed Beth had done two years ago. Kirsty did somewhat shamefacedly admit it had crossed her mind but she had grown confident enough of her aim to just require Jane to lift on her toes and shuffle back. Beth smiled and whispered, “such confidence, such skill and in one so young.” Kirsty smiled modestly at this praise from an expert. The women chatted amiably amongst themselves but there was still a final barrier between them, one they knew would fall soon.

Kirsty’s mind drifted to this barrier and she suddenly interrupted an observation by Beth about the film they planned to watch later. “Oh I am wearing jeans, I’m sorry I had no idea, but I should have changed earlier when I went to wash. “Shush Kirsty,” admonished Beth, “we are well aware of your attire. You can drop your jeans and we can cane you on your pants. As a student you will be caned on your nickers the school’s statutory eight strokes.”

“No I will NOT” hissed Kirsty forcefully. “My guilt is as great as yours, I am no longer a schoolgirl and I will thank you to afford me the same respect as I showed you!” Kirsty sat back somewhat aghast at what she had said, and how she had said it. As always Beth as her housemother saw straight through to Kirsty’s needs. “I see my child, I see. Sorry we did not mean to insult you, you helped us without question so we shall now accede to your wishes. You deserve the same respect as us and so you may receive the same punishment if that is your wish.” Kirsty sat back somewhat mollified but then began to doubt her own common sense, or pretended to. Secretly she knew she wanted to share with these two women who had long been role models and heroines to her. Beth and Jane deliberately kept the conversation light discussing films and the theatres and brought Kirsty back into the conversation when she had calmed and come to terms with their agreement. About five minutes before ten Kirsty asked if she should go change.

Jane smiled, “No need my dear, you are young and prefer jeans, you can just slip them off and present yourself over the table.” Kirsty nodded and stood up, unfastened the waistband, unzipped the jeans and wriggled out of them. She stood in front of them in her sheer cotton pants and a long shirt. Her face only showed commitment and trust as she waited. Beth stood and said, “yes it is about time, do you know your position Kirsty?” Kirsty nodded and approached the table, stopped in front of it and waited patiently. Beth picked up the cane and looked at Jane who nodded. “OK Kirsty, over you go, assume the position.” Once more Beth’s tone had become strong and confident, she never raised her voice because she didn’t need to. Kirsty reached for the waistband of her pants and brusquely pushed them half way down her thighs. She brought her shirt up above her waist feeling suddenly more than naked and tied the tails in front of herself. She stepped forward and bent over the table as she felt it touch her belly. Taking a firm grasp on the far edge she straightened her legs and realised that with maturity had come full height. Her bottom was actually higher than her head now. Despite her embarrassment she mentally shrugged thinking her two friends would have no trouble with their target as it was offered so well! Still the cool air on her bottom and her height certainly made this punishment suddenly more scary. She gathered her wits, her resolve and her willpower, turned her head and like Jane tried to lie quietly with her bottom relaxed. She sensed movement behind her then heard Beth say to Jane, “The top four by me, the lower four by you, first diagonal by you with no delay then I’ll finish with the last cross cut?” Suddenly this was very late, she was about to be caned again, and this time for something she deserved. She thought of Abigail’s anguish and her descent into illness before she put aside her selfish aspirations and helped the girl. She willed a silent plea for forgiveness to Abigail, a vow she would suffer this punishment with as much grace and dignity as she could muster as a testament to how truly contrite she was. Kirsty could only assume Jane had nodded agreement because Beth stepped up to her left with the heavy senior cane in her right hand. Kirsty tensed, then realised she should trust her instinct and relaxed again.

Beth watched the girl bare her bottom and tie her shirt then gracefully present her bottom for punishment. She let her eyes wander up and down Kirsty’s legs and bottom, envying her the long shapely legs, the perfectly contoured bottom, but more she felt proud of this girl. She had watched her grown had helped nurture her, shaped her thoughts and morals. Beth was so proud to be part of this extraordinary young woman’s education. She knew Kirsty to be a gifted athlete, a confident public speaker and a fine brain. Now she also confirmed her strong sense of personal responsibility. Like all their favourite pupils she knew that she and Jane would cane her with love and respect. She smiled thinly as she thought that it wouldn’t make the pain less and probably Kirsty would realise the love later but for now would have to endure the pain.

In a strange moment frozen in time Kirsty moved her head slightly and opened her eyes staring straight into Beth’s eyes. Beth saw a question, then trust and an acknowledgement as she let her love for Kirsty show, Kirsty had opened her eyes because she sensed a hesitation, looked into Beth’s eyes questioningly then saw the love and affection shining through, no condemnation at all. She has happily let her trust show, had nodded imperceptibly and closed her eyes and laid her head back again.

With a light heart Beth raised the cane and places it confidently against her young friend’s bottom. She tapped just twice and raised the cane and brought it down just right, feeling the solid impact in her hand, instinctively knowing it landed true. Her yes confirmed this as a broad straight white stripe appeared where the cane had bounced off Kirsty’s tight cheeks. She heard Kirsty give an almost welcoming sigh as the cane bit deep. She positioned the cane again, tapped twice and raised it to thwack it solidly against Kirsty’s cheeks for a second time. Again her aim was true, the cane bit where she intended, just below the first. Kirsty moaned, but it was not pain or sorrow, it was almost an acceptance of something she needed. Incredibly her body had not moved, she had not even clenched her cheeks, yet the raised flesh along the stripes were sufficient evidence of her pain. When Beth struck Kirsty again she let forth a sibilant hiss of pain, her cheeks finally convulsed but she shook her head slightly and almost immediately became still again. For the fourth time Beth tapped Kirsty’s bare cheeks and raised the cane. The meaty thwack as the cane bit made Kirsty tense and hiss louder, her cheeks clenched but Beth thought it was a remarkable display of fortitude from one so young and with so little experience. She stepped back and offered the heavy cane to Jane who had stepped forward.

When Kirsty waited for Beth to begin she kept her mind on Abigail, willed her body to accept this penalty so when the first cut landed she managed to say inside her head, “For you Abigail” and keep still. She sighed as she began to pay her debt to the unknowing unfortunate girl she had wronged. Her moan as the second blow landed was her way of stifling a shout for more as she paid her dues. The third and fourth began to penetrate her mental armour and she hissed with the pain, welcoming it knowing that soon her tears would release her guilt, Still she determined to hold off as long as possible as tribute to Abigail. She sensed the reason for the delay and felt a new hand now held the cane, the angle felt different. Again she relaxed her buttock, ready to accept her just deserts.

Jane admired the straight lines decorating the top of Kirsty’s bottom, as one artist would admire another’s work. Then with love she placed the cane just below the latest raised weal and tapped Kirsty’s bottom. Swiftly she raised the cane and brought it down firmly just as she had taught Kirsty. The loud thwack echoed as the cane bit and bounced. Kirsty’s bottom spasmed a little, she hissed and shook her head but managed to remain still. Again Jane tapped her young friend and raised the cane, again a solid meaty thwack filled the room, this time accompanied by a muffled squeal. Jane sensed her friend was ready to release her inner torment and pressed the cane gently into her lower soft buttocks. Tapping twice she raised the cane, kept her eyes on the target and brought it firmly down. The impact was lost in Kirsty’s throaty exclamation. An exclamation as if a heavy weight had been released. Her hips wriggled, her bottom clenched and relaxed and finally the tears began to flow. Now there were seven evenly spaced weals across her bottom, the earlier ones more angry looking than the fresher ones, all though were red and painful looking. Jane rested the cane just above Kirsty’s thigh and tapped her bottom. The cane was raised and was brought down with unerring accuracy causing Kirsty to lift her head, stamp her left foot and clench her bottom and relax it. Her cheeks continued to clench and relax until she felt the cane laid diagonally across the top half of her bottom. She took a deep breath and held it as Jane administered her last stroke. There was no shame now, no pretence, she cried her heart out, felt as though her very soul was on view. She sensed movement as the cane was passed back to Beth. Still sobbing her heart out she waited as Beth placed the cane across her lower cheeks and tapped twice. With a supreme effort she stilled her body for long enough for Beth to raise the cane and bring it down hard across her burning bottom. She screamed with pain and relief and felt the guilt pouring out of herself. Even in her agony she was aware of a lightening of her spirit, a release from the fetters in her mind. Now she allowed herself the luxury of uninhibited crying as she felt all poisons drain from her psyche. She had no idea such release was possible and her strange brain wondered if this how monks felt after cleansing.

Jane and Beth watched the writhing young girl stretched out on the table before them and knew her pain and could only hope she would find the release as they did. They held hands, old friends here to support their new young friend. When Kirsty pushed herself upright and turned to them and they saw the wonder in her eyes, the purity of her joy even through her tears they knew they had found a kindred spirit. All three embraced, Kirsty mumbling her thanks as had Beth and Jane. She found herself babbling at the revelation, saw her two friends smiling lovingly and indulgently and forced herself to stop. “Yes we know, dearest girl,” said Jane softly, “we went through this once, the first time is always extraordinary but it will always work if you let it.” Kirsty couldn’t stop crying, but her tears were of joy, the pain was there, her bottom burned but her spirit was free!

Soon though Kirsty was made to dress again, wincing, making Jane and Beth chuckle as she pulled her tight jeans over her sore and welted cheeks. She managed a rueful grin and joined the ladies in the parlour. Beth and Kirsty made hot chocolate and they watched their weepy film, all able to cry in each others’ company now, nothing hidden between them. Kirsty felt humbled that these women had let her into their unique shared world. They talked long into the night and slept late the next day. Kirsty didn’t ask if Jane and Beth did as she did, but she checked her bottom before bed. She was horrified but proud of the mess, she knew now it would fade quickly, she was blessed with that type of body. As they rambled the grounds the trio talked about anything and everything, and Kirsty asked a favour when they said she was welcome any time at the school. She asked earnestly if she might attend on this first day the school was empty and be punished by the ladies if she deserved it for her actions during the year, and if she didn’t would they please paddle her so she would never lose touch with who she was. She assured them it was not her intention to intrude on their private ceremony and would leave as soon as she received her awarded chastisement.

“Oh no young Kirsty,” laughed Beth. “If you come down you will be welcome and as a trio we need to redress the rules. In future each shall draw a name from a hat containing two names, written on paper by another so one cannot remember a shape or particular paper. If that means you and I are both punished by Jane then so be it, we all trust each other don’t we and can bear witness to each others spanking?”

“What an excellent idea,” exclaimed Jane, “yes it must be so. Don’t you think Kirsty?” Her reply was to happily take an arm in each of hers and walk with a happy gait across the grounds.

And so the pact was made and Kirsty returned every year for her paddling or caning as her life demanded. Only once did she miss when a connection from Bahrain was late. She had had a good year but insisted she be caned for her tardiness on the most important day of the year. Even after she married Kirsty made the pilgrimage, and now she is approaching 32 and has two children she is finding the pace of research hard and is considering taking up Jane’s offer of a teaching post and subsequent headship. Her only worry is where she will find a deputy that will help her as Beth helped Jane. But that obstacle would be met as it raised itself, for now they are all fulfilled and content.

The End Copyright © 2005 Karla