The Adventures of Fiona McCormack
A Story by Jenny O’Brien
From the moment that Pippa Harris stepped boldly off the bench and marched towards the desk, it was clear to everybody present that she had no intention of meekly submitting to the Mother Superior. Pippa had fought enough battles with the penguin to know that, if she broke down in tears now, she would have lost. As she bent her short stocky frame over the desk, she helpfully flipped up the back of her gymslip, before reaching for the other side of the desk. Being the shortest of the four, by at least a couple of inches, when she gripped on to the far side of the desk, her toes barely brushed the floor and her legs swung slightly. Sister Teresa immediately moved into position to hold Pippa’s wrists, but was quickly rebuffed. “It’s okay Sister, I don’t need any help”, said Pippa clearly, so Sister Teresa made her way around the desk, to watch proceedings from the business end.
As the Reverend Mother pinned up Pippa’s gymslip and roughly yanked up her knickers, she resolved that this time, she would teach Pippa a lesson that even she wouldn’t forget. As she stood back to take in the scene, the Reverend Mother was on familiar territory. She had seen the same chubby bottom and the same sturdy legs a hundred times before and was well aware of how much punishment they could soak up! Pippa had, in effect, laid down a challenge and it was up to her to meet it, head on. With her cocky attitude and her refusal of Sister Teresa’s assistance, Pippa had indicated, in her own way, that she didn’t think that the Reverend Mother could break her spirit. The Reverend Mother was equally clear that, not only could she break Pippa’s spirit, in the interests of the school, she must. From the first stroke, she needed to demonstrate her authority and when Pippa’s defiance had dissolved, then she could afford to be magnanimous and reduce the severity of the strokes.
Everyone present was aware that the atmosphere had changed. Whereas before, it had been about the chastisement of some very naughty schoolgirls, now it was clearly a battle of wills. While it seemed obvious that the Reverend Mother held all the cards and that challenging her in this way, was almost suicidal, they also knew that if she failed to break Pippa’s will, then Pippa could reasonably claim victory. Pippa gritted her teeth, squeezed her hands even harder onto the edge of the desk and waited for the punishment to begin.
After lining up the first stroke, the Mother Superior stepped back three paces, pausing for a moment before skipping in and lashing the yardstick across the centre of Pippa’s Bottom. As it landed, the crack was sickening, prompting gasps from the watching schoolgirls, but nothing more than a grunt from the prostrated Pippa. The stroke had been far harder than any which had preceded it and must of hurt terribly, but after a short pause, Pippa’s voice could be heard loud and clear “one, thank you, Reverend Mother”. The Mother Superior had expressly told the girls that they didn’t need to go through the rigmarole of saying “Reverend Mother” after each stroke, and was just about to point this out to Pippa, before deciding that maybe she shouldn’t give her the satisfaction of that one small victory. After all, thought the Mother Superior, she won’t be able to keep that up for very long.
The Mother Superior then lined up the second stroke, higher up on Pippa’s knickers, before once again, taking a few steps backwards. The ruler landed perfectly and with considerable force across the two hemispheres of Pippa’s bottom. As she shockwave travelled up the Reverend Mother’s arm, she was thankful that she had chosen an old fashioned, heavy hardwood ruler, rather than the lighter, more modern ones. She wasn’t at all sure that a newer yardstick would be up to the job! Pippa, now in considerable pain, managed to strangle a yelp, before saying “two, thank you, Reverend mother”.
The Mother Superior couldn’t help but be impressed by the fortitude and defiance shown by the girl, but knew that it would only be a matter of time before her resistance crumbled. The beating was far more severe than she had delivered before to Pippa, or for that matter to anyone else and she was confident that, before long, the tightly clenched fists and jutting out chin would give way to floods of tears. The third stroke, delivered with a similar strength to the previous two, cut in to the most padded area, low on Pippa’s bottom. The drum tight covering of blue material, holding the shape of her buttocks and producing a ripple effect as the force from the ruler, dissipated across the whole area. Pippa was breathing heavily now, the ruler seemingly expelling the air from her lungs on each stroke, before she loudly gulped it back in again and said, “three thank you, Reverend mother”. If the Mother Superior was hoping that the air would be released with a scream or a cry, she was to be disappointed. She was now breathing heavily herself, unused to this level of exertion and the sounds of her and Pippa’s laboured breath, dominated the otherwise silent room.
The Mother Superior composed herself to deliver the forth stroke. She knew that the next three strokes were to be her best chance of making an impression on the unrepentant Pippa, both because she would have some bare flesh to aim at and because she knew that any punishment on the more sensitive thighs of a girl, had a far greater effect than those on the more protected buttocks. She pulled Pippa’s knickers up a little tighter, ensuring that she would have a good area of uncovered skin to target, just above the crease of her bottom. Taking a short run up, the meeting of old wood and young flesh produced a sound like a pistol shot. This time at least, she got a response. Pippa’s legs swung wildly, kicking the floor as they moved, while from her other end; there came almost a whinnying sound as she fought to hold back the tears. “Four thank you, Reverend Mother”, came the inevitable coda.
Fiona watched in amazement, as the stripe appeared, not bright red as before, but almost purple with raised edges, etched into the bruised skin. She could see the muscles of Pippa’s bottom, twitching slightly, in an involuntary response to the sting of the ruler. The Mother Superior, perplexed by her inability to break the spirit of the girl, wasted no time in delivering the fifth stroke, savagely lashing across Pippa’s bare thighs and producing another display of wildly kicking limbs as an angry mark quickly appeared on each thrashing leg. Pippa was now having real trouble, holding in the screams. No longer was the worst pain, limited to the few seconds after the ruler landed. Now it felt as though someone was holding a blowtorch to her bottom. In her determination not to give in, she bit her lip, hard and could now taste the blood in her mouth. Pippa swallowed hard and took a long deep breath. “Five thank you, Reverend Mother,” she said through gritted teeth, before bracing herself for the last stroke.
The Reverend Mother stood back and surveyed the scene. The visible marks on Pippa’s rear end looked raw and livid, and were showing early signs of blistering. The girl to whom the heavily marked bottom and thighs belonged, was breathing hard but not crying, at least not audibly. Pippa, she thought to herself, might well be the naughtiest little girl that it had ever been her displeasure to meet, but she was also surely the bravest. Picking up the yardstick, she delivered the sixth and final stroke, almost half-heartedly, realising that Pippa wasn’t likely to cave in and that, she surely must have earned her right to hold on to her dignity.
Nobody was more surprised by the relative tameness of the sixth stroke than Pippa, who assuming that it must have been a mistake, continued to wait for it to arrive. Only when she heard the yardstick being deposited on the desk next to her, did she realise that this part was over and hastily blurt out “six thank you, reverend Mother”, this time really meaning it! As she hauled herself up off the desk, she could see the Mother Superior filling in the punishment book.
Fiona watched her friend walk, gingerly towards the bench. Her eyes were red and puffy and there were some tears on her cheeks, but she managed to hold her head high and, to Fiona’s amazement, even managing a wink as she passed. Sister Teresa, who had watched the whole tableaux unfold, also saw Pippa’s wink of defiance, but decided that in the circumstances, it was best not to say anything. Pippa climbed up on the bench, next to Fiona and took a deep breath. Fiona took a deep breath too. In a moment, it would be her turn!