Desk-Top Treatment 2

The day after Monica’s caning by Mr Hollis, from Uniform Girls 15

‘Good girl,’ said Mr Hollis, coming in and closing the door behind him. ‘Good. Yes, well, I like to make sure a girl’s really learnt her lesson. Otherwise she may imagine that a single beating is just a little aberration. And that nice new Mr Hollis didn’t really mean it. Yes?’

They were back there. Back in Monica’s form room. The very next day after school. Mr Hollis had seen her at lunch time. And told her. He wanted to see her again after school. Just in her uniform, no need for tennis shorts this time. And yes she could keep her knickers on. ‘No need to tell anyone, we can keep it nice and quiet.’

That was what he had said after that unbelievably awful business yesterday. ‘No need to tell anyone. I rather like to catch girls by surprise, unawares. Quite soon the message gets round without anyone actually mentioning details. Mr Hollis is not to be trifled with. You see?’

His hand had squeezed Monica’s poor bottom. By that time she had been allowed to pull her shorts up but inside them there were dark red stripes humming and throbbing. Six stripes.

And now Mr Hollis was going to do it again. That unthinkable business, with his hand and then the cane. If anyone else had said it Monica would never have believed them. Mr Hollis must be some kind of nut, a sadist. He enjoyed it, he had said that. She should tell her mother. But then where would she be? Even if the governors or someone made him stop such things she would be marked down as a sneak. Mr Hollis would probably carry out his threats. Make someone else Captain of Tennis. Strip her of her prefect’s badge. And Monica really enjoyed being Captain of Tennis. So even though it was the most sickening thing she didn’t have much option but to keep quiet.

‘So, Monica, we need a second dose you see. Anyway it wasn’t so bad, was it? Shall we get you up on the desk again, with your bottom in the air? Did you enjoy that?’

‘No!’ she yelped.

Mr Hollis chuckled. ‘You don’t like showing your whatsit, that’s the reason, isn’t it? And of course it was very much on show in that position. But a girl your age shouldn’t be shy, my dear. Not about that. Not with her headmaster.’

Mr Hollis’s hand slid up the front of her skirt. Monica gasped as he took hold of her pussy. It was through her knickers, not on the bare like yesterday, but even so… Desperate little moaning sounds.

Mr Hollis mercifully let go. ‘Oh yes. No need to be shy about that thing. But maybe we won’t have you up on the desk today. We’ll see. Anyway slip your knickers down and let’s have a look at your bottom. Hold your skirt up and slip them down. Let’s see if my cane has left any marks.’

Gritting her teeth Monica lifted her navy blue skirt and as Mr Hollis instructed tucked it up round her waist. He said ‘Good!’ referring to her knickers. They were the proper blue school ones today. Yesterday Mr Hollis had made Monica show him the ones she had been wearing before he made her take them off, the ones that were bunched up in her sports bag. They were quite skimpy pink ones. Girls were supposed to wear the regulation blue ones but Mr Pringle had never enforced it. Miss Frobisher who took gym sometimes said, ‘Really those are not suitable. I shall speak to the Headmaster.’ But that never seemed to get Miss Frobisher anywhere. It looked as if things might be different now.

‘Yes these are much better,’ Mr Hollis said, running his hand over Monica’s bottom. The knickers were a nice snug fit but they properly covered her bottom, whereas yesterday’s pink ones had left a good part of the cheeks bare. Mr Hollis had made her put them on to show him and he had said, like Miss Frobisher, ‘Quite unsuitable.’ Now he said ‘Good!’ again, and then told Monica to slip them down.

Gritting her teeth once more as Mr Hollis patted and jiggled her bare bottom. He said there didn’t seem to be any marks left from the caning. ‘But bend over the desk. So I can have a proper look.’

Bending face down over her desk with her skirt tucked up round her waist and her knickers halfway down her thighs. Heart thumping and not just because of Mr Hollis’s hand on her bottom. There was what he had placed on the top of the next desk, Julie’s. A wide stiff leather strap thing. He was going to beat her with that. Oh please Jesus. She could feel that urge to go to the loo coming on.

Mr Hollis said, ‘Any boyfriends, Monica. Or boyfriend?’

Monica made a ‘Nnnnggghh…’ sound and for the moment forgot that strap. His hand was…

‘I didn’t hear you.’ Her breath hissed out. Mr Hollis’s hand had gone… down there.

‘No… no… sir… Not really sir.’

‘No experimenting, Monica? None of that business?’

A squeaky gasp. His hand was in between her legs. ‘No experimenting with boys, Monica?’

‘No!’ she yelped.

‘I hope not, my dear. A girl can’t concentrate on her work if she’s getting into that sort of thing. And of course your tennis as well. There’s no way you can produce your best if you’re getting yourself all hot and bothered with some boy in the evenings. So please remember that.’

The hand with its shockingly intrusive fingers at last came away. Leaving Monica quivering like a jelly all over. The hand sharply slapped her bottom.

‘And now down to business, eh?’

Out of the corner of her eye Monica saw the strap being picked up.

‘Hold your hands together behind your back.’

What? Oh God.

CRACK!…

Oh Christ! No! Her bottom was on fire.

CRACK!…

No! She couldn’t… He couldn’t.

CRACK!

Nooo… She tried to twist away but Mr Hollis grabbed one of her hands and twisted it back up behind her back. ‘Keep still!’

CRACK!…

‘No! No more!’

CRACK!…

‘Yes Miss.’ But Monica was making blubbing sounds now so that while she might still be pleading ‘No more…’ it was not at all clear. Not that Mr Hollis would have taken much notice. The strap kept cracking down until he was ready to stop.

‘There, that’s better.’ Well, that was one verdict. Monica was in no state to enunciate one with any clarity.

‘You can go to the bathroom if you want to. Wash your face and have a drink of water. But come straight back. You can pull your knickers up.’

Back in the form room Mr Hollis was waiting for her. She felt a little bit better with cold water on her face. She had stopped crying; but her bottom was still blazing. That strap hurt just as much as the cane. What now?

‘Take your knickers off, Monica. Take them off and give them to me. Then sit at your desk with your skirt pulled up, so that your bare bottom is on the seat.’

Numbly she did it. Sitting with her skirt up so that her hot bottom was on the cold wooden seat. ‘Does that feel nice?’ Mr Hollis asked. Monica shook her head.

‘Sit like that and write out this line: I must learn to take my punishment more bravely. I shall be practising this with Mr Hollis in the coming weeks. That’s it. Shall we say 50 times.’

Monica started writing. Mr Hollis went out of the room, with her knickers in his pocket. She tried not to think what she was writing. Practising… with Mr Hollis in the coming weeks. Was she in some sort of nightmare?

Mr Hollis came back in and asked how many she’d done. Only 22. ‘Well leave it for now. Come with me. We’re going round to my place. Come on.’

What? Mr Hollis said he’d phone her mother to say Monica was going over to his place for some extra tuition. ‘Come on,’ he said again.

Monica got up, her skirt falling into place over her still painful bare bottom. Her knickers were presumably still in Mr Hollis’s pocket.

At the main door Mr Gibbins, the school caretaker, said, ‘Goodnight sir, goodnight, Monica,’ and grinned.

I’m dreaming this, she told herself. I must be.

Oh dear, it seems like poor pretty Monica is going to be seeing a lot of Mr Hollis in the coming weeks. And is the caretaker Mr Gibbins hatching a plan to exploit the situation to his own advantage? There are no more parts to this saga, so we’ll just have to imagine…