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Schoolgirl caning story

Posted by Steven on Sunday, 13 May 2001, at 2:42 a.m.

I saw a request for an English caning story, so I thought I'd send this. It is a fantasy. I do not advocate the spanking of minors in real life.

Sarah’s Sore Bottom

“Sarah Hammond! Come out to the front of the class right now!”

Mrs Richmond had had all that she was going to take from the sixteen year old schoolgirl. Sarah had been disrupting the “A” level class for some time by giving facetious answers to the teacher’s questions and by giggling and poking fun whenever another pupil gave an incorrect answer. The last straw had been Sarah’s insolent response to her final warning. Mrs Richmond knew that an example had to be made of this girl.

Sarah rose from her seat and slouched to the front of the class, rather relishing her notoriety. Just another telling off she thought.

Sarah was one of the brightest girls in her class and, until recently, had been thought a real prospect for Oxbridge. But, whether through boredom or otherwise, for the last few months she had done hardly any work and seemed to be doing her best to stop the other pupils in her class from working, too.

“I’ve had more than enough of this, Sarah. Your behaviour is not fair to the pupils in the class who want to study. And I’m not prepared to put up with your insolence to me. Report to Mrs Davis in her office and give her this note.”

The teacher finished writing a short note, sealed it in an envelope and handed it to a rather shocked Sarah.

Sarah had not been expecting this. Mrs Davis was the senior mistress and girls were normally only sent to her for corporal punishment. Girls at St Peter’s could, like the boys, be punished with either the slipper or the cane but it was a relatively rare event for a girl to get either. Only about a quarter of the girls in Sarah’s class had ever had the slipper at school (that quarter included Sarah herself) and, so far as she knew, none of the girls had ever had the cane. In contrast, most of the boys in her class had been caned at least once. Furthermore it was very rare for either boys or girls of Sarah’s age, in the sixth form, to receive corporal punishment.

Sarah took the note and just turned and walked out of the class. She was not going to let her classmates, or Mrs Richmond, see that she was worried.

As she walked along the corridor to the senior mistress’s office, though, Sarah was really hoping that the teacher wouldn’t be there. If she was taking a class or was away for any other reason and didn’t answer when she knocked on the door Sarah could just go back to her class and tell Mrs Richmond. And, by the end of the lesson, the teacher would probably have cooled down and would let her off.

It was three years since Sarah’s last experience of Mrs Davis’s plimsoll but she could still remember how much it had stung. Her behaviour had improved after that experience just because it had hurt so much and she’d been scared of getting again. In the sixth form she had assumed that she was too old for it ever to happen again but it seemed she’d been wrong . .

Unless all this was just a final warning to scare her and Mrs Davis would just tell her to go back to her class and behave herself. But, despite wanting to, Sarah could not believe that that was the case.

She knocked gently on the office door but her hopes that Mrs Davis might be out were dashed by the instant call of “Come in!”

“Come in girl and close the door! Why are you here?”

“Please miss, I’m Sarah Hammond from L6F. Mrs Richmond sent me to you and told me to give you this note.”

The senior mistress grunted and took the note. She read it slowly, looking up from time to time at the ever more nervous sixteen year old.

“Yes, Sarah Hammond. Most girls go through this school without ever getting the slipper but I’ve already had to slipper you twice, haven’t I?”

Sarah nodded, embarrassedly. Her slipperings were still fresh in her memory but she was surprised that the teacher remembered them too. She squirmed at the thought of how she had howled and sobbed after the six whacks she’d received from Mrs Davis’s slipper the last time.

In fact Mrs Davis’s memory, though good, was not the reason she’d known Sarah’s punishment history. The disruptive girl’s behaviour had been the subject of much staff room discussion and it had been decided that, even though she was in the sixth form, the short sharp shock of corporal punishment was necessary. So the senior mistress had expected Sarah to be sent to her and had had a chance to look up her record.

“I obviously didn’t slipper you hard enough! Well, you’re in the sixth form now so I don’t think another slippering would be appropriate.”

Sarah felt a brief moment of relief.

“You are a senior girl and will receive a more severe punishment. I am going to cane you, Sarah.”

Sarah felt sick but controlled the expression on her face. She didn’t want the teacher to think she was scared to accept the consequences of her actions.

“Go to the school secretary and ask her for the senior girls’ cane. Then bring it straight back here. If you waste my time, there’ll be extra!”

When poor Sarah left the office and closed the door she stood still for a few moments, drawing deep breaths. This was awful! She’d never dreamed she could get the cane at her age. The slipper had been bad enough, heaven knows, but the cane!

She had no choice and made her dismal way to the school secretary’s nearby office, just outside that of the headmaster.

The matronly secretary greeted her: “Hello dear. How can I help?”

“Can I have the senior girls’ cane, please?” she said, in an affectless voice.

The secretary looked at her and, without speaking, rose and unlocked a cabinet behind her, taking out a slender yellow-brown cane just under three feet long. She locked the cabinet again and took the cane over to the scared looking teenager.

“Is it for you, dear?” she asked as she handed it over. “I’m really sorry.”

Sarah scuttled away, cane in hand, without responding.

On the short walk back Sarah couldn’t help imagining the effect that vicious punishment implement would have. Would she get it on her bottom, like the slipper, or on her hands? It was thicker than she’d expected, almost half an inch, it seemed to her, though it was probably closer to a quarter of an inch, but was wickedly flexible. Just a gentle tap on the palm of her hand produced a sting.

As she neared the senior mistress’s office again a young boy, about twelve years old, came along the corridor in the opposite direction, apparently on an errand of some sort. He was evidently surprised at the sight of a pretty senior girl holding a cane. His face soon broke into a cheeky grin as he put two and two together. Sarah scuttled away, her face as red as a well-slippered bottom.

Back at the office, she knocked again and went in closing the door.

Even before she handed the cane over she started to plead for leniency.

“Please, miss, I’m really sorry. I’ve been stupid but the shock of being sent here and being sent for the cane has taught me my lesson. I promise that I’ll never muck about in class anymore, I’ll apologise to Mrs Richmond and I’ll just concentrate on getting my “A” levels.”

Mrs Davis took the cane and placed it on her desk.

“No, Sarah. Not this time. You know you have done wrong and you must be punished. I know that you think you have learned your lesson but if I let you off now you will soon forget how you feel now and go back to your old ways. You won’t forget a caning so quickly!

In reality Sarah had had no chance of being let off. The teachers had all agreed that if her poor behaviour continued she should be caned, both as deserved punishment and as an example to the other pupils at the school.

Mrs Davis pulled a chair into the centre of her office.

“Roll your skirt up, Sarah, and bend over the back of the chair holding on to the seat. I’m sure you remember!”

Sarah did as she was told, rolling up her blue school skirt to reveal her white cotton knickers and bending over the chair. She was three years older now and a few inches taller than when she’d received her last slippering and she found the position easier to attain than she had then. It was still terribly humiliating, though, and with the prospect of an ever sorer behind.

Mrs Davis picked up the cane, took a firm grip on it and walked round behind Sarah. She bent forward and grasped the girl’s panties, pulling them up firmly into her bottom crack, effectively denuding her posterior. Sarah gasped and was about to protest before thinking better of it.

“Right, young lady. Six strokes. And I intend every one to hurt! Stay in position unless you want extra.”

Sarah tried to ready herself. She gripped the chair seat firmly and closed her eyes. She felt the cane tap across her bottom once, feeling strange on her bare flesh, and then, a moment later, before she was really expecting it, it lashed down again for real cracking down with full force across the centre of her trim bottom. Her reaction was immediate.

“Aoowww!! Owww!!! OWWWW!!!”

Sarah lost her grip on the chair seat and jumped upright, her hands going to her poor smarting rear. The slipper had really stung, but this was a whole lot worse. This was unbearable.

The senior mistress watched impassively as Sarah massaged her poor bottom. She allowed the naughty schoolgirl half a minute before . .

“Stop that Sarah, this minute. Yes, the cane hurts! Did that come as a surprise, dear? I’m sorry!

“You are getting six strokes, and that one won’t count because you stood up. Do you want me to call Mr Chapman in to hold you down? If you don’t, I suggest you get yourself back down over that chair and stay there until I tell you you can get up!”

Mr Chapman was the boys’ PE master but many girls thought he walked through their changing room more often than was necessary. Sarah certainly did not want him to hold her in place.

Barely holding back her tears, Sarah lowered herself again over the chair. Her bottom felt as if she’d been branded. Mrs Davis pushed her skirt back up out of the way and pulled her knickers back up tight, using slightly more force than necessary. A cane weal was swelling across the teenager’s white bottom.

Mrs Davis waited a while, watching as Sarah moved her weight from one leg to the other, trying to relieve the stinging. Her pretty bottom changed shape and the tramlines left by the cane’s first visit quivered.

The senior mistress took a firm stance and lifted the cane high. If a job was worth doing, it was worth doing well. Using the livid mark across the girl’s trembling body as a mark, she swiped the cane down hard.

Sarah was more prepared that time and managed to stay in position, though the chair rattled as she squirmed over it. She managed to restrain her yell, too, just gasping sharply as the pain burst in.

Mrs Davis nodded grimly, pleased to see that Sarah was evidently accepting her caning. She waited a few seconds for the effects of the stroke to be fully felt and for Sarah’s wrigglings to diminish before whipping the cane down hard again, a little lower down.

It was an expert stroke. Despite her best endeavours poor Sarah could not help screaming at the sudden increase in pain. She kept a firm grip on the chair seat with her sweaty hands, though. The teacher saw that the mark left by that stroke was parallel to that left by the previous stroke and so close that it would probably merge in time. She heard the teenager begin to cry.

“Two strokes, Sarah. Four more to come. I hope this is a lesson to you!”

The next two strokes followed, once again slightly lower, the fourth almost across Sarah’s thighs. They were punishing cane strokes, though not quite so hard as the earlier ones, and on poor Sarah’s tender rear they hurt like Hell. The teenager wriggled and squirmed over the chair sobbing and yelling at each stroke.

Mrs Davis paused before the two final strokes, which she intended to be the hardest of the punishment. There was no doubt that young Sarah’s bottom was going to be very sore for a long while.

“Legs still, girl. Two to come!”

The senior mistress aimed the next stroke at a diagonal, crossing the marks left by the cane’s earlier visits. Somehow Sarah managed to stay bent over the chair though her heartrending shriek and frantic buckings showed that she had really felt it.

The teacher used all her skill for the final stroke, which was certainly the hardest one that day. The cane scythed viciously through the air, hissing like a swarm of enraged hornets, before smashing into the undercurves of Sarah’s bottom, just where the fifth stroke (officially the fourth) had previously landed.

The sheer force seemed to take Sarah’s breath away and it was few moments before her anguished yell showed just how much that last stroke had stung.

Mrs Davis put the cane back down on her desk and watched the caned girl writhing over the chair for a few moments. The teacher returned to her desk and sat down before telling Sarah that she could stand up.

Sarah stood up slowly and, very gently, pulled her panties back into place and lowered her skirt. She stood, weeping, her hands massaging her sore bottom through her blue school skirt. Miss Davis made an entry in her Punishment Book.

“Put the chair back in its place, Sarah.”

The schoolgirl immediately did as she was told. Mrs Davis picked up a box of tissues from her desk and offered them to Sarah. The girl took a handful and, still sniffing, tried to dry her tears and blow her nose.

“I’m sorry that that was necessary, Sarah. I hope that you understand why it WAS necessary and that your behaviour will now improve.

“Now, I want you to go straight back to your class and to apologise to Mrs Richmond.”

The teacher looked at her watch.

“It’s now a quarter past eleven. I will ask Miss Richmond for the time that you returned to her lesson so straight back, no sloping off. Unless you want to be back here again, bending over that chair . . “

Her smarting backside made walking difficult but Sarah shuffled across the office and out of the door. Further down the corridor she noticed the small twelve year old boy who had seen her earlier. Had he been waiting and listening outside Mrs Davis’s door?

Tears were still coming as Sarah hobbled back to her class, so different from the defiant teenager who had left it. She would dearly have liked to have gone first to the washrooms and washed her face and waited for the tears to stop, but she didn’t dare to do so. She knocked on the door knowing that the whole class would know that she’d been caned and that she had cried.

“Come in!”

Sarah stumbled in. Everyone looked at her.

“Ah, Sarah! Welcome back! Have you been to see Mrs Davis?”

It was obvious to everyone that she had, but the teacher wanted to emphasise the lesson for the other pupils.

“Yes, miss. I’m sorry for being rude to you, miss, and I’m sorry for disrupting the class.”

Mrs Richmond smiled. “Did Mrs Davis punish you?”

“Yes, miss.” Sarah really hated her class teacher then. She suddenly became aware that both her hands were rubbing the seat of her skirt. She pulled them away.

“What did you get?”

“Cane, miss. Six strokes.”

Sarah wasn’t going to tell anyone about the extra stroke.

“Well then, back to your place and sit down. You’ve missed too much already.”

Slowly and painfully the caned schoolgirl made her way to her desk. Everyone was watching her. When she reached her place she regarded her hard wooden seat dismally for a moment and turned to face the teacher.

“Please miss, can I stand up for the rest of the lesson?”

A few girls giggled. Miss Richmond smiled.

“Yes, Sarah. You may!”



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