Cane Ceremony
Story by Andrew Grantham from Janus 28
‘Well my girl,’ said Mr Sutcliffe, taking off his
tasselled mortar board and laying it flat side down on the gleaming, polished
surface of his huge desk. ‘You obviously expect a hiding, don’t you?’
The tall girl standing on the other side of the desk
shuffled her feet uneasily on the well-worn carpet. She bit her lip before
nodding and uttering a barely audible ‘Yes sir.’
Mr Sutcliffe looked closely at the girl. She was very
pretty. Of course, a great many of the girls who had stood, quaking, on that
same spot had been pretty. There were hundreds, if not thousands, of names in
the punishment book. The distinguished-looking Headmaster prided himself that
he never forgot a face — or a bottom! He knew that he could go to the
punishment book, pick a name at random and picture again the girl’s rear-end.
Karen Crane’s features and rear-end were to be indelibly
etched in his memory long after she had left his charge. He saw her pretty,
sculpted face every day of term, but he still had to view the magnificent arse
she undoubtedly possessed.
‘It’s a hiding you are going to get, young lady,’ he told
her slowly, allowing his words to sink in. He sighed and continued. ‘I must
say, Miss Crane, that I honestly never thought I would see you standing before
me like this!’
Of course, Mr Sutcliffe was absolutely delighted that the
statuesque Karen Crane had been such a naughty girl that the only possible
punishment he could give her was a generous dose of the cane.
She lowered her head, a mop of thick black curls, and
crossed her hands in front of her. The Headmaster looked at her hands, aware of
the reaction both the girl’s proximity and his imagination was having on
himself. To think that those hands had…! Phew! It was mind-blowing! If only she
might…! He snapped himself out of his reverie and coughed sternly before
continuing with his little lecture.
‘Your action leaves me with no alternative,’ he told her. ‘Doing
what you were doing to those lads from the village gives the school a bad name.
We can’t have that!’
Karen’s face reddened at the mention of what she had been
caught doing. It was so unfair as well. She was the only one who was going to
suffer. The lads had enjoyed it obviously. She had enjoyed herself as well, although
she had only touched them with her delicate hands, giving them exquisite
relief. Furthermore, her headmaster would get his enjoyment out of giving her a
darned good caning!
She raised her head and wondered if she might just dare to
suggest to the headmaster… But no! It took her only a couple of fleeting
seconds for her to reject the idea. It was far too risky and she didn’t have
the courage.
‘I trust you are sorry.’ Mr Sutcliffe’s voice broke into
her little daydream.
‘Oh, I am sir,’ responded Karen eagerly, hoping that an
expression of contrition would reduce the punishment old ‘Sooty’ (as Mr
Sutcliffe had been called for many, many years) had in store for her.
Karen’s sorrow was over the fact that she had been caught,
rather than over the fact that she had done something to bring the reputation
of the school into disrepute.
Mr Sutcliffe saw right through her. He was far too
experienced not to understand the workings of the teenage female mind.
‘Do you want me to bend over the desk, Mr Sutcliffe?’
asked Karen tearfully.
There were no tears of course. The girl was playing on his
sympathy. But Sooty knew all the tricks and, sympathetic as he normally was,
any sympathy for a girl vanished at the sight of her bottom!
‘Not just yet, Miss Crane,’ he said slowly, drumming his
fingertips on the desk top. He usually called her ‘Karen’, but now that she was
up for discipline, he disturbingly referred to her as ‘Miss Crane.’
‘Not just yet.’ he repeated.
Karen’s shoulders slumped. She wanted to get it over with
and not have to listen to a boring, long-drawn-out lecture.
Mr Sutcliffe’s next statement came as a dreadful shock to
her. ‘Your punishment will probably take place in two or three weeks’ time,’ he
told her.
The dark-haired girl straightened up immediately and her
jaw dropped. ‘No! That’s not on!’ she protested, her big brown eyes flashing
angrily. Then she remembered she was playing at being contrite and servile and
she added, ‘Sir’.
‘Why isn’t it on, young lady?’ Mr Sutcliffe wanted to
know. His fingers stilled and he sat back in his seat, relishing the
entertainment.
Karen knew she shouldn’t have reacted as she had. She
realised she was going to receive a hiding, but it was just possible she might
be able to charm old Sooty into reducing the sentence. Biting her lip and
choking back a make-believe sob, she slowly shook her shoulders from side to
side and looked at the grey-haired Headmaster through her lowered eyes.
Mr Sutcliffe’s pulse began to quicken. Karen Crane could
certainly turn it on when she wanted to. Just supposing he were to suggest that
she pretend he was one of the lads from the village! No. He couldn’t, immensely
inviting though the prospect was. Even if Karen agreed, which he thought she
probably would, it would be a breach of privilege and decidedly unfair on the
girl. He couldn’t possibly put her in that position.
‘It’s the waiting, sir,’ she pouted. ‘It’s as bad as being
caned.’
‘Actually, it isn’t,’ smiled Mr Sutcliffe grimly. ‘However,
you’ll find that out yourself!’ He found he was enjoying laying it on thick. It
gave him some sadistic pleasure.
‘Please sir, can I ask why I have to wait?’ Karen begged.
‘You can ask,’ chuckled the Head, ‘but I won’t tell you.
All will be revealed in due course.’
With the door closed on the girl, Mr Sutcliffe permitted
himself a broad smile at the prospect of all that the lovely Karen Crane would
indeed reveal when the time came.
He looked at his watch. Still ten minutes before the next
miscreant came knocking on the door of his study. Time to type another letter.
Turning around to the side desk where he kept his portable
typewriter, he first of all looked appraisingly at the pretty actress adorning
the cover of the television magazine. Then the typewriter began to clack, zip
and ding.
Mr Sutcliffe was just sticking down the flap of the letter
when the expected knock came at the door.
‘Come in,’ he called out and turned around to face his
visitor.
Nicola James stood on the carpet before him. It was a face
he knew well. Automatically, his mind matched up the bottom to the wide,
blue-eyed blonde’s face whose well-brushed hair hung down past her shoulders.
Her bottom was well-fleshed and bouncy. It could certainly
soak up the punishment. Nicola took the cane often, but at least she took it
well. Perhaps the next time might have a better effect!
Before he admonished the blonde, Mr Sutcliffe thought
again about what he intended to do. Yes. The bottoms of the Misses James and
Crane would be just perfect for what he had in mind.
----//----
Deep in the heart of the Metropolitan Television Studios,
Natalie Kimber’s dresser handed her an envelope. The actress’s face screwed up
a little as she saw the name of her old school on the flap. ‘Another begging
letter from old Sooty,’ she sighed. ‘How much is he after this time?’
Since she had zoomed very nearly to the top of her
profession in a relatively short time, Natalie had received several requests
for donations towards various school projects. She had always given generously.
She would rather Sooty got it than the taxman, even though he had given her
bottom a battering with that trusty cane of his, during her spell under his
charge.
How long ago had it been? She worked it out on her
fingers. Was it really so long ago? Leaning forward, she carefully surveyed her
features in the mirror — the same features that adorned the colourful front
page of a current, large-circulation TV magazine.
Firmly etched lines around the eyes suggested she was a
little older than she seemed. High cheekbones kept her skin tight and youthful.
And she knew the rest of her body was in perfect trim.
Satisfied with what she saw, she returned her attention to
the letter. Her eyes narrowed in shrewd amusement as she read the contents and
she asked her dresser to pass her diary.
----//----
A couple of weeks later, Natalie sat in a first class rail
compartment speeding through country she had once known so well. Inside half an
hour she would actually be back again in her old school for the first time
since she had left there.
She opened her bag and again read through Mr Sutcliffe’s
letter to her:
Dear Natalie,
I am inviting you back to St. Hilda’s for a very special
occasion.
As you know, many a pupil has been treated by ‘Old Trusty’
as my cane has been affectionately known throughout the years. Sadly, it is now
nearing the end of its life after warming up literally hundreds of bottoms. In
fact, as I notice from the punishment book, Old Trusty has played a part in
your own school life.
After performing its work on one more bottom, my
once-sturdy stick will be replaced by a brand new one; which hopefully will
have as long a life as Old Trusty. I thought it would be rather nice to have a
little ceremony ‘laying-up’ the old cane and ‘trooping’ the new one in front of
specially invited guests, yourself included.
The guests will be specially selected — from those names
appearing in the punishment book.
I have set the little ceremony to take place in the School
Hall on Friday, the 24th at 2pm. Please let me know if you will honour me with
your presence. Luncheon will be provided prior to the ceremony.
Yours sincerely,
H.T. Sutcliffe
Headmaster
Natalie folded the letter and replaced it in the envelope.
Her trim bottom squirmed on the seat as she recalled every single stroke Mr
Sutcliffe had applied to her behind. The train slowed as the driver applied the
brakes. Natalie gathered up her belongings, wondering just how many old girls
would turn up for the event.
----//----
There was a great hubbub of noise in the packed, staff
dining room. The staff, with the exception of the Head, had eaten earlier so
that Mr Sutcliffe could entertain his guests prior to the commencement of the
ceremony — a ceremony which only they would see.
Sooty was delighted with the response to the letters he
had sent out. He looked around the room. Every single young woman present was
very attractive. It was no accident of course. He had been very selective when
sending out his list.
His eyes wandered from guest to guest. The hairstyles had
altered since he had last seen them. In some cases a bit of weight had been put
on. He remembered all their names and he visualised them minus their knickers.
He also recalled their various misdemeanours.
Glenys Smith. Sneaking in after lights out. Long lean
buttocks.
Jane Benson. A similar offence to the one Karen Crane was
shortly going to be punished for. (‘Thank God for naughty girls!’ he thought).
Full, meaty globes.
Colleen Westwood. Habitually using foul language. Tight,
erubescent bum cheeks.
Natalie Kimber was the centre of everyone’s attention. She
had signed autographs galore since her arrival. Mr Sutcliffe looked at the
successful actress. She wore a clinging silk dress whose neckline plunged
provocatively to reveal a masterpiece of feminine sculpting. He wondered if the
gorgeous, brown-haired girl owed any of her success to the casting couch.
‘Excuse me, sir. Can we clear away now, please?’ The voice
of Nicola James broke into the lecherous thoughts beginning to take form in his
mind.
He looked at her. First of all he looked mid-way between
her neck and her waist. Her nipples prodded through the nylon of her white
blouse. The girls were supposed to wear bras of course, but it was a rule that
Mr Sutcliffe never enforced.
The blonde girl was quite calm and unruffled, considering
that the time for her beating was fast approaching. The taller Karen Crane
standing alongside her was visibly trembling.
‘Yes please, girls. Carry on!’ instructed Mr Sutcliffe. He
had deliberately asked Nicola and Karen to wait on the guests. There were two
reasons. The offenders would see that the type of punishment inflicted upon
erring girls was, in the long run, beneficial to them. Each and every one of
the guests had received a caning during their schooldays, yet look how they had
turned out. One of them, despite her comparative youth, was indeed a famous
actress. Furthermore, the girls had waited far too long for their canings to
take place and their activity in the dining room for a couple of hours would
help to take their minds off what was going to happen. Perhaps.
The dishes and glasses were cleared away. Mr Sutcliffe
looked at his watch. He excused himself and went into the kitchen to tell the
main participants in the event to make their way to the School Hall. Poor Karen
dropped a dinner plate onto the floor and it broke into several pieces.
Delighted with the way things were going, Mr Sutcliffe
hummed a cheery tune to himself as he went to his study to collect the two
canes — Old Trusty itself and the brand new whippy wand.
His humming stopped abruptly as he surveyed the empty desk
top. Both canes had gone!
Mr Sutcliffe’s mouth opened and closed like a goldfish as
he looked at the barren surface. Who could have perpetrated such an outrage?
The audacity of anyone to actually sneak into his study and remove his prized
implements of punishment!
Then he remembered that such an occurrence had taken place
once before. When was it? Suddenly he clicked his fingers, realisation dawned
upon his face and he hurried outside into the corridor.
Immediately underneath a photograph of the school in
Edwardian times was a radiator. Puffing and straining slightly, he reached
behind it and found the two missing canes in the space between the metal and
the wall.
Triumphantly clutching his precious rods, and clad in gown
and mortar, he marched towards the School Hall where Nicola and Karen were
waiting for him.
‘Walk on ahead of me and take your places on the stage!’
he instructed them.
The audience consisted entirely of the two dozen or so
young ladies who, years earlier, had either touched their toes or bent over a
chair to receive Mr Sutcliffe’s trusty cane. Punishments were normally carried
out in the privacy of the study, but an exception had been made for this
special occasion.
The small assembly managed, nevertheless, to make a great
deal of noise with their chattering and giggling. It began to subside as the
two unfortunate girls mounted the stage to play the main parts in Mr Sutcliffe’s
very formal, and very painful, ceremony.
They sat facing each other at either end of the stage — a
stage where some years earlier, Natalie Kimber had been a great success in a
school production of St Joan.
A solitary, small-backed chair was placed towards the edge
of the stage, but right in the centre. This was where the main part of the
ceremony would be performed.
Mr Sutcliffe was very pleased with himself. It was nice
seeing old faces again. A pity he couldn’t see their bottoms as well. But
still, two lovely arses awaited his pleasure. He could hardly wait to lay the
cane into Karen Crane’s posterior. It was something he had wanted to do for a
long while. By the time he had warmed up on Nicola James, he would really be in
the swing of things!
‘Welcome to St. Hilda’s,’ he beamed at the small assembly
seated in rows at the front of the hall. He held up the old cane and made an
impassioned speech, praising the effects of corporal punishment. ‘This is the
last time that this particular cane will be used. It is therefore somewhat
fitting that it be applied to the backside of a young lady whose bottom is no
stranger to Old Trusty. Miss James will receive eight strokes.’
Here he announced her offence and then ordered the girl
with the long blonde hair to take up her position.
Nicola was a little bit nervous. For one thing, she hadn’t
been expecting eight strokes when ‘six of the best’ was the norm. Furthermore,
she didn’t like the idea of being caned in front of an audience. Still, they
were all girls together. She gritted her teeth to steady her nerves.
From her vantage point, Natalie watched the proceedings.
There was a trickle of excitement in her tummy and the palms of her hands were
tightly clenched.
‘It takes you back a bit, doesn’t it?’ she whispered to
the former pupil alongside her, who happened to be Jane Benson.
‘It certainly does,’ was the reply. ‘But I’m glad I’m not
either of these two girls, thank you very much.’
By now, Nicola was bent over the chair with her hands on
the seat. Her face could not be seen as it was completely hidden in the
waterfall of her long, golden hair. Her skirt was to her waist and all that
could be seen was a shapely pair of white-stockinged legs below a pair of white
cotton panties that fairly strained with the size and weight of their contents.
Jane Benson dug Natalie in the ribs. ‘Old Sooty will have
those knicks right down with one flick of his wrist,’ she whispered.
She was right. Over the years, Mr Sutcliffe had developed
the knack of inserting his hand into the top of a pair of knickers, flicking
his wrist and denuding the bottom.
Nicola’s panties sailed down her legs. The audience, and
the Head too, were treated to the sight of the blonde’s extremely shapely bare
fleshy buttocks.
Karen Crane had an excellent view of the proceedings, too.
She felt sick and she cursed the boys in the village. All boys, in fact!
Almost reverently Mr Sutcliffe held up the cane. It was
like an act of worship. And the high altar was the blonde’s bum!
The cane became a blur as it descended.
Whap!
It sank into the flesh. Nicola jerked but that was her
only reaction.
Karen saw the red imprint on her colleague’s bottom and
she tightly closed her eyes.
Natalie’s palms were sweating as she watched the assault
on the blonde girl’s derriere. It wasn’t until the fifth stripe showed that
there was any reaction.
Then her bum-flesh quivered. Her back arched. Her legs
parted a little. A cry escaped her lips.
Sooty was pleased with both his own performance and the
girl’s. Nicola was behaving very well — as indeed she always did. But he was
starting to break her down however. Normally used to receiving six strokes, he
reckoned the additional two would prove to be quite devastating. He would make
sure they were!
Crack!
The resultant yelp would have done credit to a soprano at
Covent Garden.
Mr Sutcliffe had done something he very rarely did.
Normally each stroke was spaced out. Very rarely did he lay into an already
established weal. But after all — it was a special occasion!
The sixth stroke into Nicola’s bouncy flesh caused her
first-ever adverse reaction to any of Mr Sutcliffe’s stinging cuts. She jerked
upright and her hands flew to her backside.
Mr Sutcliffe was delighted. The invited audience were
highly amused. Karen Crane was horrified.
‘Over that chair, Miss James!’ rasped the Headmaster. ‘How
dare you get up!’
Nicola’s face was completely invisible behind the screen
of silky, golden hair but everyone knew she was crying.
Obediently, Nicola did as she was told, but she planted
her feet wide apart. There were no males present, but it was rather a lewd
sight.
In the audience, Colleen Westwood, a one-time user of foul
language, remarked, ‘I’m glad there was no-one looking at me when I used to get
the cane!’
Mr Sutcliffe said nothing. He stood behind the girl and
using a foot, pushed Nicola’s shoes together to close her legs.
Natalie was thoroughly enjoying herself. It was altogether
a splendid afternoon’s entertainment, well worth travelling here for. And it
wasn’t even half way over yet!
Nicola flexed the muscles of her bum, anticipating the next slash of pain. It wasn’t her bum that got it, however. The cane dug into the firm flesh at the top of her thighs.
The blonde girl’s agony was acute. She screamed out at the
top of her voice and stamped her feet loudly on the hollow boards of the stage.
Karen clamped her eyes shut and put her hands over her
ears to blot out both the awful sight and the horrible sound.
As he took aim for his final blow to the red-striped
cheeks quivering in front of him, Mr Sutcliffe thought that perhaps Nicola
James might not be such a frequent visitor to his study in future.
The last stroke was aimed at a small target area on the
very tender undersides of her buttocks — an area bordered by two ugly red
weals. Correctly delivered, the pain would be quite horrendous as the hurt from
the new thrashing impact would overflow into the throbbing hurt the red ‘tramlines’
were already giving.
Of course, the stroke was correctly delivered.
‘Oooh… aagh… aahh!’ cried out Nicola, her body jerking
upright. Such was the force of her movement that her hair cascaded back over
her shoulders. Her hands stuck to her bottom as though they had been
magnetised.
The blonde sobbed her heart out as Mr Sutcliffe removed
her hands so everybody could see the result of his handiwork. Her bottom blazed
as she stood, ignominiously, in front of the assembly.
The Headmaster held up his old cane rather ruefully. It
was about to snap in two after years and years of causing havoc to teenage
flesh. He sighed. He had been right. Old Trusty had been good enough for only
the one more dose of punishment.
Taking a last look at Nicola’s bounteous, red-striped
globes, he ordered her to adjust her dress and return to her seat.
‘Oh… Ouch!’ winced Nicola as she hauled up her panties,
the tight elastic digging into the red ridges as she did so. Painfully she
walked to her seat and lowered herself very gently onto the hard wood. As
contact was made, she winced and bit her trembling lip.
Mr Sutcliffe put down the years-old cane and picked up the
shiny new one. He ‘whooshed’ it through the air several times.
Karen winced, her face deathly white under her black curly
mop. She took a deep breath and rose, almost wearily, from her seat as Mr
Sutcliffe crooked a beckoning finger at her. Immediately she felt nervous fear
as all eyes fell upon her.
She stood, hands together and head bowed, as Mr Sutcliffe
held up the new cane for all to see.
In the audience, Jane Benson murmured in a low voice, ‘God
bless this cane and those whose arses are going to get stung by it!’
Mr Sutcliffe coughed and began another little discourse. ‘It
is right and fitting that this brand new cane should be used first of all on a
girl who has yet to receive the rod…’
‘Put a sock in it, Sooty,’ groaned Colleen Westwood. ‘Let’s
see her arse wriggling! That’s what we’ve all come for!’
Mr Sutcliffe announced the tall girl’s crime and Karen
blushed with shame. Nothing could possibly be more excruciatingly embarrassing
than the loud announcement of her sexual misdemeanour. The effect on the
audience, however, was just the opposite. Jane Benson nearly laughed out aloud.
Natalie chuckled to herself. There were many comments which Mr Sutcliffe didn’t
seem to hear.
‘Haven’t we all?’
‘I haven’t stopped doing it!’
‘Girls will be girls!’
Karen heard the remarks and she didn’t feel half so bad.
But she still had that awful punishment to endure.
All eyes watched as Karen, feeling as if a spotlight were
being shone on her, was prepared for her ordeal by cane.
Jane Benson nudged Natalie. ‘I hope it doesn’t stop her,’
she whispered. ‘I must try and have a word with her afterwards. When I’d had a
whacking, I used to show off my striped arse to the village lads and they used
to buy me lagers and lime all night in the pub.’
‘It’s probably Pernod and blackcurrant nowadays,’ remarked
Natalie.
Up on stage, Mr Sutcliffe, revelling in his accomplished,
masterful showmanship, bared Karen Crane’s bottom. His eyes soaked up the
sight. And it was a truly lovely sight. She was lightly tanned all over and her
colouring was in startling contrast to the snowy-whiteness of her knee-length
stockings.
Karen’s thighs were long and sturdy, yet very shapely. The
twin cheeks of her bottom were tight and nicely rounded. Unlike Nicola’s, they
had no fat on them, but they still presented a wonderful target.
Karen Crane possessed a connoisseur’s backside. And Mr
Sutcliffe was a connoisseur. His eyes fairly gleamed.
‘That girl’s got a lovely arse,’ remarked Jane Benson. All
around her fully agreed.
The owner of the lovely arse was not embarrassed at
showing it off — she just didn’t want to get it caned! Her whole body tensed as
she waited for the first blow.
Crack!
The brand new cane bit its way into the flesh of its
first-ever victim.
Karen inhaled urgently. It was bad, but it might have been
worse.
She rode the second stroke quite well, choking back a cry
and wriggling her behind exactly as Colleen Westwood had wanted. But she still
had six of the best to come. And she knew that in this arena, Sooty would
deliver only the very best.
Somewhat surprised at the way the tall girl was coping
with the early part of her punishment, Mr Sutcliffe applied even more force to
his third stroke.
Whap!
‘Oh… ow… oh!’ cried Karen. She raised first one foot and
then the other. It seemed as if white fire was clutching at her entire bottom.
The next cut, the halfway mark in the girl’s ordeal,
brought forth a resounding screech and a furious writhing of her haunches. It
was as if she had sat down in a bowl of fire.
Mr Sutcliffe took aim for an unmarked area of her tight
bum. Again, the cane found its mark with a whipping swish-crack!
Karen yelled out as the vicious stroke sent vibrations to
every nerve and fibre of her body.
In the audience, Natalie watched impassively as stripe
after stripe began to adorn the bum-cheeks of the girl on the stage. Sooty was
really making her suffer. The actress could not help but wonder if he was not
just a teeny bit jealous of what the pretty sixth form girl had been up to.
As the punishment neared its conclusion, Karen’s body
sagged and was supported only by the back of the chair. She had tried very hard
not to cry, but now the floodgates had burst and her beautiful body heaved with
sobs. Several times she had been on the point of leaping up to clutch her rear,
but a stern rebuke and the threat of further strokes had made her slump wearily
over the chair back. Mr Sutcliffe had repeatedly pushed her legs together.
Only one stroke remained. The Headmaster was determined it
would be a good one. The cane scythed through the air.
Swish! Whapp!
‘Oh… ooh… all… oo… agh!’ roared Karen. She must have
leaped a foot up into the air before her feet landed on the boards of the
stage. Even then she leaped around, hands holding her battered bottom and
affording everyone a view of her thick pubic patch.
Mr Sutcliffe pretended not to notice, but the picture was
indelibly lodged in his memory file all the same.
With Karen still hopping and sobbing, Mr Sutcliffe
addressed his guests. ‘That’s the end of our little ceremony,’ he beamed at
them. ‘I hope you will all agree that St. Hilda’s still upholds the old
traditions. After all, the old ways are the best ways.’
He continued for some time but his audience was now rather
bored. There were no more bottoms left to cane. On the stage, Nicola consoled
her form-mate and carefully pulled her panties up over her ravaged arse. The
special guests had been invited to attend a concert after a tour of the school
and they began to drift out of the hall.
As Natalie walked through the door, a tap on her shoulder
made her stop and incline her head. She felt her tummy lurch as she looked at
Mr Sutcliffe. Despite his advancing years, he still posed a tall, threatening
figure.
‘Would you accompany me to my study, please, Miss Kimber?’
he asked gravely.
The actress bit her lip and nodded. He had referred to her
as ‘Miss Kimber’ and not as Natalie, as he had consistently called her earlier
on in the day.
She meekly followed him along the oak-panelled corridor
and into his study. It hadn’t changed. The place was still stark and sombre.
Although spotlessly clean, the study gave the impression of never having been
decorated since its first painting some hundred and twenty years previously.
Natalie was not invited to take a seat. Mr Sutcliffe kept
her standing on the carpet in front of his desk. He gathered his gown about him
and sat down. He placed his mortar board flat side down on the polished desk
top, with the cane alongside it.
The headmaster looked at the actress who was standing on
the carpet in front of him, exactly as she had done on one occasion a number of
years earlier. She had been quite pretty then. Now, she was absolutely
stunning.
‘I want to ask you about the missing canes, Miss Kimber,’
he announced suddenly.
Natalie shifted on her feet and wrung her hands together. ‘What
missing canes, sir?’ she asked innocently.
Mr Sutcliffe leaned across the desk and recounted the
story of the disappearing canes and how he had come to find them behind a
radiator.
‘You are the culprit aren’t you, Miss Kimber?’ he accused
sharply. Natalie took a deep breath. ‘Yes, sir,’ she admitted softly.
The wooden chair creaked as the headmaster sat back. He
clasped his hands together and a slow smile spread across his face.
‘You know what the punishment is, don’t you?’
‘Yes. Mr Sutcliffe,’ she responded. ‘I’m going to get some
bamboo kisses on my bottom, aren’t I?’
‘You certainly are, my dear Miss Kimber,’ said the Headmaster,
trying to sound stern and at the same time rather fruitlessly attempting to
conceal his mounting excitement.
Natalie’s head dropped and she swung her shoulders from
side to side. ‘Will I get it on the bare?’ she asked quietly.
Mr Sutcliffe could hardly speak. ‘Oh yes,’ he managed at
last. Then he stood up and slowly walked around her appraising her fine female
form. Natalie submitted herself to the inspection without saying a word. Mr
Sutcliffe noticed that her breathing was rather heavy and that her hands were
tightly clenched. Her eyes were wide as she saw him reach across the desk for
the cane. She swallowed hard.
‘You will strip off completely please, Miss Kimber!’ he
ordered.
‘What!’ exclaimed Natalie. The shock on her face was very
real. ‘Strip right off?’
‘That’s what I said,’ sighed Mr Sutcliffe.
‘But the rules say…’ began the protesting actress.
The imposing figure of the Headmaster loomed over her. ‘The
rules, Miss Kimber,’ he told her curtly, ‘are for pupils. There is a different
set of rules for former pupils.’
He did not add that he was making up such rules as he went
along!
Natalie exhaled sharply, but she made no further protest.
She moved her hands up her back and fumbled with her zipper as Mr Sutcliffe
watched intently. The clinging dress loosened its hold on her body as the zip
was lowered. Then it fell from her and she stood, clad now only in black bra,
black panties, black stockings. And a black suspender belt!
A suspender belt! Sooty hadn’t expected that! Natalie
forced back a grin as she watched his reaction. Her hands went behind her back
again. This time to unhitch her brassiere. Off it came. The Headmaster’s eyes
popped as he surveyed the jellied mounds of her breasts and her engorged,
cherry-ripe nipples. What a wonderful treat. But even more was to come!
Natalie stood still for a moment before continuing, and
her eyes were shining. Mr Sutcliffe’s gaze travelled from her breasts, down her
dimpled tummy and came to rest on her crotch — the next part of her lovely body
that had to be unveiled. The straining vee of her panties tightened into her
mound, allowing some of her brown curls to escape on either side.
Still managing to look so innocent and demure, Natalie
turned her back on the Headmaster. He licked his dry lips and cleared his
constricted throat as he beheld the former pupil’s bottom, half of it concealed
in the taut silk of her panties and half of it bulging out from the material.
Then she began to lower the panties, bending over and poking out her bum as she
did so.
Suddenly her magnificent mounds were bare. They were
almost exactly as Mr Sutcliffe remembered them — firm and luscious. Perhaps
they carried a bit more meat than they had done, but they were truly a
wonderful set of bum-cheeks.
Natalie straightened up, put her hands on her hips and
turned her head round to look at the Headmaster. ‘Shall I take off my belt and
stockings, sir?’ she asked.
Sooty was almost speechless as the sight of the girl who
was at his mercy, but he eventually managed to reply, ‘No, that will not be
necessary, Miss Kimber.’
He made up his mind to break one of his own personal
rules. Or rather, to make up a new rule as far as former pupils were concerned.
Taking a deep breath, he walked in front of the girl. She closed her eyes,
arched her back and thrust out her breasts as she awaited the Headmaster’s
physical inspection.
Mr Sutcliffe clutched her breasts. They were as firm as
freshly-plucked melons. Then he ran his thumbs over her already distended
nipples before caressing her shoulders and waist. Her body was as smooth as
satin and was scented divinely with the fragrance of a very expensive perfume.
His fingers trailed across the velvety plain of her belly, but they did not
probe beyond the light brown fur at the junction of her thighs.
‘Bend over please, Miss Kimber!’ he ordered her in low,
throaty tones. ‘Touch your toes!’
Natalie did as she was told right away. ‘That’s a good
girl,’ complimented Mr Sutcliffe. It was now the turn of her bottom to come in
for his physical inspection. The satin-smooth cheeks were firm to his touch.
‘Ooh sir!’ squeaked Natalie as his fingers carelessly
trailed too far down her long crease. Mr Sutcliffe duly apologised. Then
smiling to himself, he pulled away one of the suspender straps leading down to
her stocking top. He let it go and it smacked into the flesh of her elegant,
shapely thigh.
‘We’ll begin now, Miss Kimber,’ he announced suddenly.
Natalie braced herself. She saw Mr Sutcliffe’s feet shuffle as he got himself
into position.
‘Oohh!’ she cried as the first stroke cut into her flesh.
It had been a long time since she had experienced such stinging hurt.
The study was filled with gasps and cries as she came
alive beneath Mr Sutcliffe’s instrument of correction.
‘Yeeek!’ she cried as she took the fourth swipe. Her body
shuddered and her breasts swung from side to side under the impact.
Smack!
‘Yarrooh!’ Natalie’s cry was even higher pitched. That
last one had been across her thigh-tops. Her veins seemed to be filled with pain
instead of blood.
‘Just one more now,’ she heard the Headmaster say, his
breath catching. She watched as his feet made another shuffle. Natalie clenched
her red-striped bum cheeks. Her cleft narrowed into a thin line.
Whap!
‘Aye… ay… agh… ooh!’ yelled out the actress. Sooty had hit
her diagonally across her behind — right across all the earlier weals.
She shot upright clutching her cheeks and began to hop
around the study, first on one foot and then on the other.
Mr Sutcliffe felt very privileged. It was a performance
the general public would never see from the popular actress. Her swinging
breasts really were a sight to behold. He bent down and picked up her clothing.
All good things had to come to an end, he supposed.
----//----
Natalie settled in her seat for the train journey back to
London with her favourite CP magazine hidden away behind the covers of Cosmopolitan.
Now that the pain was gone, her bottom felt hot and
heavenly. She smiled a smug smile of satisfaction to herself. It had been a
good idea of hers to hide Sooty’s canes in the same place where she had hidden
his precious Old Trusty some years ago. He had found it then and she knew he
would do so again!
Comments
Post a Comment