David turned into the drive of the hotel at around 8.00 pm. It was just a one night stay over which was conveniently situated on his way further north. He wasn’t in a rush, so a stop two thirds of the way to his destination seemed a good idea. He drove down the drive and arrived at The Old School House, parking on the gavel outside in a bay marked ‘Guests’. At the turn of the century the hotel had been a school for young ladies, but in the mid-1960s it had closed and had been redeveloped into rental apartments. He looked up the code for the keypad and let himself in through the main door and then into his apartment.

Apartment number 4 had one bedroom with a king-size double bed, a kitchen, a bathroom and a lounge all situated on the ground floor. It was well appointed and the kitchen had the usual facilities including a kettle, tea, coffee, sugar and milk in the fridge. The lounge itself had an old style fireplace, although the fire had been replaced by a radiator, together with a sofa, a widescreen TV and a small dining table in the bay window.

David made himself a coffee and headed into the bedroom where he unpacked, showered and sat on the bed. He switched on the screen which hung on the wall and found an action movie on a mainstream TV channel. The sun set at around 10.00 pm and the film was beginning to drag slightly. David was tired and soon his eyes closed and he fell asleep. At just about midnight he woke and managed to drag himself off the bed, turned the TV off and quickly changed into his pyjamas. He got back into bed, under the warm covers, and was quickly asleep.

It was about 2.00 am when David awoke with a start. There seemed to be female voices coming from somewhere, but in his dazed state and the dark he couldn’t really figure out where they were. He sat up in bed and listened. There definitely were voices which seemed quite heated. How was he expected to sleep with this going on? He got out of bed, pulled the curtains apart and looked out of the bedroom window into the grounds. It is was dark and he couldn’t see anyone but the voices were still to be heard. He wasn’t sure what to do. Listening more carefully, he thought that they may be coming from the lounge next door. Maybe some drunken ladies had ended up in the wrong apartment and would soon be heading into his bedroom. He made his way to the door between the bedroom and lounge and with the lights off he slowly opened it to see if he had unwanted intruders.

He pulled on the door handle and the door opened silently. David peered into the gloom. His heart was racing. There in the middle of the room he could see a chair and next to the chair was a lady in a tweed outfit. She looked very stern and about was 45 years of age, her hair tied in a bun. The dining table in the bay window had been replaced by an old fashioned oak desk like one would find in a Victorian headteacher’s study. She seemed to be addressing someone on the far wall but David couldn’t really see who it was. He yawned but undeterred he entered the room and then stood with his back to the closed door. The lady obviously hadn’t seen him and as his eyes acclimatised to the dark conditions he could see three girls, all in school uniforms, standing with their backs to the fireplace. They were being addressed by what David assumed was their headmistress who had a three-foot rigid cane in her hand and was pointing at the girls.

No-one seemed to know he was there, so he stood and watched.

“You three need to be taught a lesson and I intend to do that right here and right now,” the stern lady said with a clear voice, looking directly at the girls, who looked worried.

“Yes, Miss Henderson,” the girls chanted in unison, all looking down at the floor. They sounded contrite and were clearly hoping to be as non-confrontational as possible, in order, David assumed, to escape their imminent thrashing.

“Jenny Stanley, come and stand in front of the chair. You know the routine by now.”

Jenny walked slowly to the chair and stood behind it.

“Raise your dress and bend over the back, placing your hands on the seat.”

Jenny did as she was told. Lifting her navy blue pinafore dress up so that her navy blue school knickers were visible, she bent over the back of the chair. Her hands grasped the seat and her legs were straight, her pert bottom sticking out. The headmistress made sure the dress was out the way.

“Bullying of the younger girls will not be tolerated in this establishment, young lady. Four strokes.”

“Thank you, Miss Henderson,” Jenny said slowly.

Miss Henderson, without further delay, tapped Jenny’s bottom twice, raised the cane to shoulder height and swung it hard. SWISHHH CRACKKKK! It landed hard across the knicker-clad bottom which wobbled slightly on impact. There was a moment of silence as the cut registered and then Jenny howled.

“Arghhhh!”

Just as the sound of howling died down, the second stroke, SWISHHH CRACKKKK! cut home an inch or two below the first and another howl filled the air. David watched intently as the shapely backside was beaten, feet kicking in the air as Jenny grasped the seat of the chair harder to keep herself in position.

“Arghhh!”

In perfect tempo, the cane was raised again and a low cut SWISHHH CRACKKKK! caused an even more guttural howl from the girl. Miss Henderson knew how to teach these girls a good lesson and whatever bullying had occurred, they were paying for it.

“Arghhh! Jeez! Ouch! Miss, nooo, please.”

“Be silent Jenny,” Miss Henderson said firmly as she raised the cane for a final time. “You deserve this, at the very least for the distress you have caused those girls.”

SWISHHH CRACKKKK! The cane cut into the crease between legs and bottom and Jenny flinched, her legs kicking up and down as she remained bent over the chair.

There would be four purple welts under the cotton knickers for sure, David thought to himself. It was quite a sight and one he had thought about when he was at school in the 1970s but had never seen first-hand.

“Stand up and straighten your dress, Miss Stanley,” Miss Henderson commanded.

The poor beaten girl stood up and her dress fell down. She looked at the headmistress, curtseyed and apologised. “Thank you, Miss. I deserved to be caned and have learnt my lesson.”

“Stand by the fireplace, Jenny. Charlotte Burton, you are next. Bend over the chair.”

Charlotte was already sobbing as she took her place. She lifted her navy school dress up to reveal the same navy blue school regulation knickers which stretched taught across her more ample buttocks when she took her place over the chair. Her long brunette hair now dangled over her face, but she was still sobbing.

“Four strokes for you, Charlotte, for your part in the ridiculous affair.”

“Thank you, Miss Henderson,” the girl managed between snivels. She shuffled and made sure her bottom was sticking out. She knows how to take a caning, David thought to himself, now completely engrossed in the proceedings, but not quite sure how he had ended up in this strange scene. Was he dreaming?

Again the cane tapped the girl’s bottom twice before being raised to shoulder height and brought down swiftly and expertly across the buttocks.

SWISHHH CRACKKKK! The girl shot up and rubbed her bottom, doing a little dance.

“Arghhh! Nooo, please,” she begged the headmistress, her eyes wide with pain and fear as she looked at the lady with the cane in her hand.

“Get back over that chair right now, young lady, before I add extras for the inconvenience.” Miss Henderson pointed to the chair.

Charlotte raised her dress again, still begging for mercy as she dipped over again. The headmistress checked her dress was right out the way and continued.

Maybe the girl wasn’t as experienced as David had thought. It looked like it might be her first caning.

SWISHHH CRACKKKK! The next cut did not take long to arrive and another gasp and howl emanated from the chair. The bottom wriggled and feet stamped on the ground with knees bending, a sure sign of the pain which was now searing through the girl’s bottom.

“Argghhhh! Owwww!”

With undeterred concentration, the headmistress continued to discipline the young girl.

SWISHHH CRACKKKK! The third stroke, as with Jenny, was lower and harder and the howls increased as well.

“Arghhh nooo! Please, Miss,” Charlotte cried out as her backside was lit up. She shuffled and stamped but clung to the chair desperately to avoid standing and incurring another cruel stroke. She eventually composed herself, face in the chair and bottom sticking out to meet the rod.

SWISHHH CRACKKKK! The final stroke landed in the crease. David knew that this headmistress had caned many young ladies and was clearly very accurate with that three-foot wand. The girls would not forget this for a while and, no doubt sitting for the rest of the week in class the pain would be a sharp reminder of what happened if they were caught bullying.

“Arghhhh! Ouch! Ouch!” Charlotte moaned, with her knees bent trying to shake the pain away.

“Stand up and straighten your dress, Miss Burton,” Miss Henderson commanded, just as she had with Jenny.

Charlotte stood up quickly, trying to avoid any confrontation, and her dress fell down over her navy blue knickers which hid the four painful welts. She looked at the headmistress, curtseyed and apologised. “Thank you, Miss. I deserved to be caned and have learnt my lesson.”

“Stand against the fireplace, Charlotte. And finally, Emily Luxford, you are next,” the headmistress smiled.

Emily strode purposefully to the chair and without hesitation raised her dress and bent right over, grasping the seat. No instructions were necessary and there was an air of defiance about her. Not her first caning, David was sure.

“What sort of knickers are these?” Miss Henderson remarked as she looked at the thin black lace knickers which were now stretched over Emily’s bottom. “These are not regulation, are they?”

“No, Miss. I am sorry, Miss. I didn’t have any left in my wardrobe as the others are in the laundry.”

“Well it is not good enough, young lady. Four stokes and the last two will be with your knickers pulled down,” Miss Henderson continued.

“Yes, Miss.” Emily’s voice was still quite nonplussed.

The headmistress ensured the dress was out of the way, shook her head and them tapped Emily’s bottom twice with the cane.

SWISHHH CRACKKKK! The first stroke hit home. The sound of the cane resounded around the room and there was just a mild grunt from the girl bent over. Her bottom remained stuck out with her knickers still in place covering the white flesh and red line.

SWISHHH CRACKKKK! The second followed immediately. A bit lower, and again it was just the sound of the cane and grunt from the recipient that could be heard in the room. No dancing around, no stamping of feet.

David was sure these were cutting just as hard as the strokes given to the other two girls and were just as painful but he was impressed by the stoic nature of the poor girl.

With no warning Miss Henderson moved forward, grasped the waistband of the black lacy knickers and pulled them down to Emily’s knees. Everyone in the room, including David, could see the two angry red welts that adorned the pale white bottom, an inch or two between them where the flesh was already turning red as the heat spread across the beaten buttocks. They didn’t offer much protection, but pulling them down was a sign that the headmistress was in charge and rules were rules.

The cane, now placed against the bare flesh, was taken back and a low cut hit home, SWISHHH CRACKKKK! David could see the bared bottom bounce when the cane was retracted and the red line similar to the first two appeared more or less instantly. The caning was certainly very firm and he detected more of a wriggle from the young lady who, other than the familiar grunt, remained silent. Three lines were now standing proud on the girls flesh as the fourth stroke was lined up low down.

SWISHHH CRACKKKK! As with the other girls, the unerringly accurate headmistress caught the flesh between the legs and buttocks and another red line revealed itself. The girl wriggled more as she most definitely felt the last stroke. David was enthralled as he stared at the bare, beaten bottom and noted how the red was spreading between the straight lines. The girls’ knickers had dropped to the ground and were now around her ankles.

“Stand up, pull your knickers up, and straighten your dress, Miss Luxford.”

Emily stood up, groped around her ankles to find her lacy knickers. The humiliation of having them pulled down in front of the other girls would have been quite acute. She pulled them up and straightened her dress, looking resolute in her defiance. Like the other two girls she curtseyed and apologised. “Thank you, Miss. I deserved to be caned and have learnt my lesson.”

Once Emily was against the fireplace with the other three girls, Miss Henderson continued.

“Ladies, I do not want to see you back in this office. Your behaviour has been unacceptable and any repeat will incur my wrath and six strokes will be the minimum you will receive. Am I making myself clear?”

“Yes, Miss Henderson,” the girls chanted in unison.

David retreated through the door and climbed back into bed.

When he woke, David couldn’t quite work out what had happened. He remembered the disciplining of the girls vividly and wondered if it had been a dream.

He walked through into the lounge where there was no chair or headmistress’s desk. He was confused. Was this a blast from the past? A ghostly incident. He shuddered.

The End

© Colin Brooks 2026

Colin is happy to be contacted and take feedback from his stories: colinbrookscp@gmail.com.