A Good Lesson

“Oh, Miss Smithers! You’ll do.”

Helen Smithers stopped dead in her tracks. She was just yards from the exit door when the brusque tones of the headmaster, John Snelling, filled her ears.

“Yes, headmaster? I was just leaving, actually. My lessons ended at three o’clock today. I thought I’d do a little shopping on my way home.”

“Yes, well, perhaps you could just spare me a few minutes of your time, eh?”

“Of course, headmaster. I’d love to.” Helen lied, but as a new member of the teaching staff, still on her probationary year, she felt she had to see what the wretched man wanted.

As she approached the study, Mr Snelling held the door open for her to enter.

“Oh, hello Susan.” Helen greeted the tall, dark-haired girl standing in front of the large desk.

“Miss Smithers,” Susan Emmerson, a sixth form prefect that Helen took for Advanced Mathematics and with whom she got on particularly well, seemed unusually subdued and, as a senior girl, would normally address the young teacher by her first name.

Susan had been very pleasant and welcoming when Helen arrived at the school, and the two had become as close to friends as would be appropriate in their teacher/student relationship. Was Susan appearing extra formal because they were in the presence of the headmaster? Helen supposed so. What other reason could there be?

“Now, we have a bit of a predicament, Miss Smithers.” John Snelling said as he sat down in the large chair behind his desk.

“Oh dear, headmaster.” Helen felt it best to at least pretend to be interested. “And it’s something I can help with, is it?”

“Indeed. I want you to escort Susan, here, to the west wing changing room. Supervise her as she changes into her gym kit, then take her along to the gymnasium and find Mrs Willoughby. Hand Mrs Willoughby this note, if you will be so kind.”

“Oh.” Helen Smithers frowned, bit her lip thoughtfully, and formulated several simple questions in her mind. In fact, they were so simple she hesitated to open her mouth for fear of being considered stupid. Was there something she was missing?

“The note, Miss Smithers?”

“Sorry, headmaster.” The young teacher awoke from her thoughts and took the small envelope being offered in the headmaster’s outstretched hand.

“Off you go, ladies.” John Snelling busied himself with a small pile of papers on his desk, a clear signal the meeting was at an end.

Outside in the corridor, as the two females headed towards the west wing of the school, Helen Smithers was eager to discover more about this strange task she’d been given.

“What’s this all about, Sue? Why are you suddenly not capable of getting changed by yourself, and taking this note to Mrs Willoughby yourself? I know I was sneaking off early, but my lessons are finished for today and it’s not exactly illegal for staff to leave early if their work is done for the day.”

“No, it’s nothing to do with you, Helen. It’s to do with me.”

Helen Smithers liked that prefects were allowed to address staff by their first names, especially in the case of Susan Emmerson with whom she had a particularly good relationship. Helen looked at Susan as they walked together, and noted the teenager seemed quite red in the face.

“What’s to do with you?” A puzzled frown on Helen’s face showed she was quite baffled.

“Look, you’re going to find out soon enough.”

“Okay, so tell me.”

“Well, unlike you, sixth form girls, even prefects, are not allowed to leave the school premises without permission. I needed to catch the bus to the next town yesterday afternoon, and it leaves twenty minutes before school ends. I took a risk, slipped out of school early, and I got caught when Miss Trent saw me waiting at the bus stop and reported me, so now I have to pay the price.”

“Susan, I’d have written you a pass if you’d asked me.”

“Yes, well, I didn’t think of that.”

“Which still doesn’t explain why you can’t take a note to Mrs Willoughby all on your own.”

“I’m being punished.”

“Walking with me is a punishment? I never knew I had that effect.”

Finally, Susan Emmerson smiled, if a little half-heartedly.

“I think it’s the visit to see Mrs Willoughby, and what she’s going to do to me, that’s the punishment.”

“Okay.” Helen Smithers was none the wiser. “And what is she going to do to you?”

“Twelve with the slipper.”

“Ah, right.” The young teacher finally realised what was going on. “Mr Snelling thought a female teacher should carry out the punishment, so you’re off to get Mrs Willoughby to do it. Is that about right?”

“Spot on, Helen.”

“But surely Mr Snelling trusts you enough to turn yourself in to Mrs Willoughby without someone having to take you?”

“There’s always supposed to be a witnessing member of staff present. That’s your role.”

“I’ve got to watch you getting your bottom spanked?”

“That’s about the size of it, yes.”

“So much for my early leaving.” Helen paused as they negotiated their way around four girls walking in the opposite direction. “Let’s hope Mrs Willoughby gets on with it.”

“Gee, thanks Helen!”

“Oh! Sorry Sue, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I guess you’re not looking forward to this.”

“Er, no. I experienced Mrs Willoughby’s right arm a few years back. Anyway, here’s the gymnasium. She’ll be in her office at this time of day.”

They entered the gymnasium and went across to a side door where a staircase led down to the changing rooms and a small office to one side.

“Yes? Can I help you?” A gruff female voice bellowed even before they’d fully descended the stairs.

“Only us, Emily!” Helen Smithers called out.

A head appeared from round the door of the small office.

“Helen, and Sue Emmerson, what can I do for you two ladies?” The expression on Mrs Willoughby’s face suggested she had a fair idea what was going on. “Is that a note you have there?”

“I’m afraid so, Mrs Willoughby,” Sue Emmerson replied. The senior gym mistress was of an age and seniority that most girls, even prefects, did not feel comfortable calling her by her first name.

Emily Willoughby held out a hand and Susan passed her the small envelope.

“Let’s have a look.” The gym mistress tore the envelope open, took out the note and read it. “Absenting yourself from the school premises without authority, eh? Twelve whacks. Bet you won’t be doing that again in a hurry, will you Sue?”

“No.” Susan blushed as she answered.

“I said I would have given her a note if she’d asked me,” Helen Smithers explained, hoping it might somehow lessen Sue’s punishment.

“Are you asking me to slipper you as well, Helen? I can if you want.” Emily Willoughby reached down to the bottom drawer of her small desk and pulled out a large sized blue canvas plimsoll with a well-worn thin rubber sole.

“Eh? I mean, no. No!” It was Helen’s turn to blush bright red.

Emily Willoughby chuckled. She liked teasing the younger members of staff.

Normally, Susan Emmerson might have joined in the banter, but right now she wasn’t in the mood. She did, though, look meaningfully at the young teacher and watched as Helen finally realised Mrs Willoughby was simply having a little fun with her.

“Right,” The gym mistress suddenly slapped her left hand with the gym slipper. “Helen, you get this recalcitrant young lady ready for her comeuppance and I’ll go up to the gym and get organized. Okay?”

“Um, okay,” Helen answered with hesitation, not really knowing what she was supposed to do.

“Sue will tell you what she has to do, Helen,” Mrs Willoughby explained, having seen the doubt on the young teacher’s face.

The senior gym mistress then disappeared up the stairs leading to the gymnasium.

“This way,” Susan Emmerson said, and led Helen out through the changing room and into an open area where lines of metal lockers were provided for the upper and lower sixth form girls to keep their books, coats, and games kit. She stopped at her locker.

“I’m permitted one layer of clothing between my bottom and the slipper, Helen. That’s why I have to change.”

“Couldn’t you just drop your trousers?” Helen looked down at Susan’s black leggings.

“I could, but I’m wearing a thong, which means I’d get pretty much a bare bottom spanking. While Mrs Willoughby, and probably the headmaster, might think that a very good idea, I think I’d like just a little more protection.”

“I see,” Helen answered, feeling a little uncomfortable.

“Your job is to supervise me and make sure I don’t put on an extra pair of pants.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t do that, Susan.”

“No, I’d be too frightened what Mrs Willoughby might do if she caught me!”

Susan took a small sports bag from the locker and re-locked it. “Okay, let’s go,” she said without enthusiasm.

Back in the changing room, Susan started getting undressed. Helen tried to look anywhere but directly at the teenager.

“You can look, Helen. You are supposed to be supervising me, you know.”

When Helen looked back, Susan was completely naked.

“I’ve only got a leotard with me, so that will have to do.” Susan confirmed by holding up a black leotard.

“Okay,” Helen answered. “It looks very thin.”

“It is, but then the idea of the single layer rule is to protect my modesty, not my bum.”

“I see.” Helen was torn between watching the girl put on the leotard under observation and looking away to save her embarrassment. At least Susan had turned away while she threaded her legs into the flimsy garment and pulled it up.

“Do you need a hand?” Helen asked as she saw Susan struggling to thread her arms into the thin leotard.

“It’s alright, I can manage thanks.” Susan replied as she finished putting the garment on, and then tried to stretch the rest of it over her bottom as best as she could. “I’m afraid it’s a bit small to cover all my bum.”

“Will that matter?”

Susan smiled weakly. “Well, Mrs Willoughby won’t mind, but it means my spanking is going to be over some bare bottom, which will smart a bit more.”

Helen blushed, wishing she hadn’t asked.

“Look, I’m really sorry, Sue. I wish there was something I could do.”

“There isn’t, Helen. I got myself into this mess and I’m just going to have to pay the price.”

“That’s very philosophical of you, Sue.”

“Not much choice. Anyway, shall we go?”

Susan led the way out of the changing room and up the stairs to the gymnasium. When they got there, they found Mrs Willoughby waiting for them and leaning against a brown leather vaulting horse that had been set fairly low.

“At last!” The gym mistress’s comment seemed unpleasantly sarcastic and a bit unnecessary.

Helen and Susan went up to her.

“So, Helen,” Mrs Willoughby looked down at the black leotard Susan was wearing. “Can you confirm this naughty girl here has nothing on under her leotard?”

“I can, yes, nothing underneath, Emily.”

“Good! Over you go then, Sue. Give me a good target to aim at, eh?”

“Yes, miss.” Her words were strictly formal, while her voice sounded hesitant.

At around five feet six inches, Susan found the vaulting horse had been set at just the right height for her to dive over it and reach down to grasp the legs, while her feet remained firmly on the wooden floor. The leotard stretched as she bent over and now was tight across her bottom, except for the lower portions which were quite naked and exposed.

“You didn’t have your gym kit with you, I take it.” Mrs Willoughby said, looking down at Susan’s bottom.

“No, miss.”

“Never mind. This leotard will do admirably.” To emphasise the point, the gym mistress gave Susan’s bottom a smack with the palm of her hand.

“Do you still need me?” Helen asked, feeling uncomfortable watching a girl she regarded almost as a friend being punished.

“Yes, you’re my witness to confirm to this girl and her parents that I haven’t whacked her too severely, and to the headmaster that I’ve walloped her sufficiently.”

“Okay, right,” Helen answered, still feeling doubtful.

“Here we go then!”

Mrs Willoughby swung the plimsoll back and launched the first blow across the centre of Susan’s bottom. The girl grunted and jerked her whole body, but immediately settled back across the vaulting horse. A second strike hit the girl across her left buttock and the third thudded into her right buttock.

Helen watched intently as the canvas plimsoll spanked the student and noticed some redness appearing on the areas of Susan’s bottom that weren’t covered by the black leotard.

After another stroke to the left buttock, Susan could be heard grunting, but the fifth and sixth strikes were met with silence, albeit with more jerking of her body as the sole of the plimsoll met her scantily covered bottom.

“There, halfway already!” Mrs Willoughby commented.

“You okay, Sue?” Helen asked, not caring whether that was something she should do.

“Yes, fine,” Susan replied, her rasping voice suggesting her feelings didn’t quite match her words.

“Here we go again, then,” the gym mistress said to alert the teenager.

She swung the slipper hard down and slammed it across the centre of the girl’s near naked bottom. Susan ouched loudly. After a brief pause as she decided where to apply the slipper next, Mrs Willoughby spanked it down to land on the girl’s left buttock, soon following with a ninth stroke to the right buttock.

Without waiting, the gym mistress launched on the final three strokes with a hard whack to the left buttock and another to the right buttock.

“Final one coming up!” Mrs Willoughby announced.

Helen noticed the slipper being drawn back even higher than before and then swung down with more venom than any of the previous strokes. It landed with a mighty crash across the centre of the lower part of Susan’s bottom, where she was almost naked.


“There! All done.” Mrs Willoughby stepped back and nodded to Helen that she could offer assistance to Susan if she wanted.

Grim-faced, Helen moved forward and placed a hand on Susan’s back, then rubbed in a circular motion.

“Okay, old girl? It’s over now.”

Susan responded immediately by pushing herself up from the vaulting horse and standing unsteadily on legs that appeared not to want to support her. Helen took the girl’s arm.

“You okay?”

Susan nodded, while several tears trickled down the sides of her face.

“You sure?”

Susan again nodded and looked around.

“Get yourself down to the changing room and maybe wash your face. You’ll soon feel better.” Mrs Willoughby advised in such a way that suggested she had been there, done that, and knew the best way to get girls over a hard punishment.

“Thanks.” Susan glanced briefly at the gym mistress and then headed for the door.

Helen started to go after her.

“Just a moment, Helen.” Mrs Willoughby waited for Susan to fully disappear. “Susan was a silly girl, who risked getting caught all for the sake of meeting up with a boy who, if he cared anything for her, would have happily waited another hour. She knew the rules and she knew what would happen if she got caught. She won’t make that mistake again.”

“No, I imagine she won’t,” Helen replied with some feeling.

“She’ll feel a bit sorry for herself, and her backside will smart for a bit, but she’ll soon get over her spanking. Trust me!”

Helen smiled in acknowledgement, not certain the senior teacher was totally correct.

“Go on, go mop up her tears.” Mrs Willoughby smiled.

Helen went carefully down the stairs and found Susan sitting on one of the benches in the changing room.

“You okay, Sue?”

“I’m fine, just a bit sore.” The teenager smiled softly.

“She really laid it on, didn’t she?”

“A bit, maybe. I knew I was getting a good hiding. I knew the rules, and what the outcome would be if I broke them. I deserved it.”

“You really think that?”

“I do, and you’d do well to learn from Mrs Willoughby. She’s a fantastic teacher and a good person to have on your side.”

“You like her?”


“Even after that hiding she gave you?”

“Because of the hiding she gave me. You might have noticed; the popular teachers are those that keep a slipper in their bottom drawer.”

“Yes,” Helen replied uncertainly. “You’re not the first person to say that.”

“So, get yourself a slipper then.”

“I wouldn’t know how to use it.”

“Should have taken her up on her offer to slipper you too! Then you’d know all about it!”

The End

© Kenny Walters 2020