The Adventures of Fiona McCormack
A Story by Jenny O’Brien
Rebecca Cartwright didn’t so much step, as stagger off the bench and towards the desk. She was now crying freely and looked a sorry sight, with her reddened eyes and tearstained cheeks. Despite being in such a state, she didn’t need to be asked to get into position and immediately leant over the desk and held onto the other side. Straight away, she could feel the mother superior, take hold of her gymslip hem and lift it up over her bottom. Her sense of feeling exposed was magnified, as she felt a cool breath of air against her bare thighs and she shivered slightly.
The other three girls were watching in horror, from their vantage point on the bench, directly behind the bending Rebecca. Fiona really wanted to look away, but the tableaux unfolding in front of them, kept drawing her eyes back. She watched as the Reverend Mother took a large safety pin from the desk and pinned the hem of Rebecca’s skirt to the back of her grey gymslip. Then, she turned her attention to Rebecca’s navy blue school knickers, pulling them up tight and carefully smoothing out any creases, until she seemed satisfied. Fiona could see that, by pulling the knickers up as high as they would go, the Reverend Mother had greatly reduced the amount of Rebecca’s bottom that was covered, with the lower part of her chubby buttocks now exposed. The Reverend Mother then picked up the yardstick and, resting the end on Rebecca’s already flinching bottom, measured her distance to the left of her. “Cartwright”, she said, “would you like Sister Teresa to hold your wrists for you?” The crying girl managed to splutter out a “yes” and Sister Teresa moved around the back of the desk and took hold of her wrists.
Fiona’s eyes, as if by compulsion, were now firmly fixed on the knicker-covered bottom, ten feet in front of her and on the end of the yardstick, which was gently tapping it, as if measuring for the first stroke. Suddenly, without warning, Fiona felt her gaze shift, following the ruler on a long arc, way out to the other side of the Mother Superior, before returning at high speed. As the ruler cracked across the widest part of Rebecca’s bottom, the sound was incredible, not unlike a gunshot, followed almost instantly by a high pitched yelp from the unfortunate girl. It was already clear to the girls that the Reverend Mother had no intention of letting them off lightly, with the first stroke delivered with a full swing of the arm and considerable ferocity. The Mother Superior paused for a couple of seconds, studying the crying girl, before announcing, “Cartwright. As you failed to count the stroke, as instructed, you shall take the stroke again!” Without delay, the ruler cracked again across the knickers, landing perfectly on top of the previous stroke. Once again, Rebecca yelped in anguish, but this time the cry was clearly followed by a shout of “one!” Now, the Reverend Mother shifted her position slightly, lightly tapping the ruler, higher up the girl’s bottom. Again she withdrew the ruler in a wide arc, this time whipping it back in a more downwards motion, impacting a couple of inches higher than before, against the curve of the bending Rebecca’s bottom. Rebecca’s first cry was silent, like a sharp exhaling of breath, but was quickly followed by a howl and a quickly remembered “two!” Without a pause, The Mother Superior delivered the next stroke; lower than the first two, low down on the knickers and across the fleshy, lower part of the bottom. Perfectly parallel to the other strokes, it elicited the loudest yet response from the sobbing Rebecca, followed by a scream of “three!”
As the Reverend Mother lined up the next stroke, it was apparent to the others watching, why she had taken the trouble to pull Rebecca’s knickers up tightly before starting. The ruler tapped softly on the bare strip of bottom, above the crease at the top of the legs and below the edge of the tightly stretched knickers. Rebecca too, guessed what was coming, feeling for the first time, the wooden ruler against her bare skin. The noise as the ruler found its target, surprised Fiona. Not muffled by the fabric of the knickers, the crack as the ruler hit flesh, seemed to echo around the room. For a moment after the stroke had landed, Fiona could see the buttocks quivering from the impact before, in front of her eyes, the skin started to discolour and redden, revealing an angry stripe appear across the width of Rebecca’s bottom. “Four!” she howled. Rather than return to the wider area of the buttocks, the yardstick next tapped at the crying girl’s bare thighs, a few inches below the previous stroke. “Legs together, Girl!” came the order, before the ruler whipped in low, almost bouncing of the firmer target, uncovered by the layer of fat that absorbed the strokes on the buttocks.
This stroke had a startling effect on Rebecca, who now howled and kicked in pain. Sister Teresa was now having considerable trouble, holding on to the struggling schoolgirl and the Mother Superior paused for a moment, to allow her to regain some composure. It was clear to her watching friends that the strokes on the thighs were going to be the worst, a feeling confirmed by the angry mark that soon appeared, looking far more sore than the previous one on her bottom. Just as the Mother Superior was about to announce another stroke for her failure to count, Rebecca blurted out “five!” from amongst the tears. For the sixth stroke, the ruler was lined up, midway between the previous two, right on the crease where the thighs met the bottom. The three watching girls all held their breath, as did the unfortunate Rebecca. The Mother Superior hadn’t exactly held back up until then, but she had reserved her best for the last of the six! Putting her entire body into the stroke, as it came whistling in, it produced a collective gasp from the audience of three and an ear piercing scream from Rebecca. “What did I tell you about unnecessary screaming?” asked the Mother Superior, unsympathetically. “For that you shall receive the stroke again!”
The bright red mark had already appeared as the Mother Superior lined up the ruler again, against the same spot. It was obvious that when she said that you were to have the same stroke again, she meant the same stroke! With equal ferocity to the first time, she brought the ruler down, directly on top of the already swollen flesh. Somehow, Rebecca managed to stifle the scream, that was already half way out of her mouth, before uttering a “six”, that was almost indistinguishable from the sobbing that surrounded it.
The Reverend Mother placed the yardstick on the desk, next to Rebecca and allowed her a minute or so to cry. From her vantage point, Fiona had a clear view of Rebecca’s rear end, now draped almost lifelessly across the desk. Across her white buttocks and thighs, below her knickers, were a perfectly straight group of three crimson stripes, the middle of which; having received two strokes, had turned almost purple in colour. The point that, within a very short time, she too would be in a similar position was not lost on Fiona. Neither was it lost on her friends, who were looking increasingly nervous about the prospect. Even Pippa, who had considerable experience of punishments at the hands of the Mother Superior, knew that this was a whole new situation for her. Normally, she could find humour in any situation, but today, her sense of humour had finally deserted her.
On the instruction of the Mother Superior, Rebecca struggled back to her feet. “Hands on your head and no rubbing”, came the order as she made her way back to the bench, her gymslip still pinned up at the back and her eyes red from the crying. Unsteadily, she climbed back into her position, next to Fiona, who could hear her sobbing softly but didn’t dare to look towards her oldest friend, for fear of being spotted. Sister Teresa waited behind the desk; to assist in the next beating while the Reverend Mother completed an entry in the school punishment book.
Rebecca Cartwright - Aged Eleven - 4th Form
For the wicked act of seriously injuring a member of the teaching staff
First part of the punishment-
6 strokes of the ruler across the knickers
For failure to count strokes correctly-
1 stroke of the ruler across the knickers
For excessive and unnecessary protestations-
1 stroke of the ruler across the knickers
The Mother Superior put down her pen and looked back towards the waiting girls. “Next!” she said brusquely. “Hannah Hall, I believe!”