“Is everything okay, Fiona?”

I’d gathered my books together pretty quickly but even so half the class were already through the door and most of the other half were pushing in front of me despite my wanting to be away promptly. I’d decided to take the long way home through the woods to give me time on my own to think and try and work something out, however impossible that seemed.

“Fiona?”

“Eh? Oh, sorry sir.” So deep was I in my thoughts, I’d completely failed to hear my form master, Mr Lewis, trying to attract my attention. I paused by the side of his desk and within moments we were alone in the classroom.

“You seem a little preoccupied, Fiona. I just wondered whether there was anything wrong. Anything I might be able to help with, perhaps?”

I hesitated. There was indeed something the matter. I doubted Mr Lewis would be able to help, though, even if he would have wanted to, once he knew the problem.

“We could speak off the record and in total confidence if that would help, Fiona.”

I liked Mr Lewis. He was a good teacher, not long at the school having taken over at the beginning of the Spring Term when our previous form teacher, Miss Evans, had left. “Well…”

“Why not sit down and tell me about it, Fiona? A problem shared is a problem halved, as they say.”

I felt a tear come into the corner of my eye and wiped it away with the back of my hand, almost knocking my glasses clean off my nose. Mr Lewis fetched a chair from the corner of the classroom and placed it down at the side of his desk for me. Then as I dropped down onto the hard wooden seat he pulled a tissue from his desk drawer and handed it to me.

“Thank you, sir.” I folded my glasses and rested them on my lap as I dabbed away with the tissue.

“So, what’s this all about, Fiona?”

I hesitated. “If I tell you, sir, will you have to tell my parents?”

Mr Lewis thought for a good few moments before he answered. “No, Fiona, not if you don’t want me to. As I said, this is off the record and you are eighteen now.”

I nodded appreciatively, then took a deep breath and started blurting it all out.

“Well, sir, I was with two other girls and we were shopping in the town centre after school last Wednesday. We were looking at some clothes in ‘Hudsons’ and one of the other girls asked to look at some jewellery from the display cabinet. Then we continued looking at some more clothes and then one of the girls suddenly called out “run” and they dashed out of the door. I tried to follow them, thinking it was some sort of game, but two of the assistants caught me and held on to me. Then the owner, Mr Hudson, appeared and got one of the assistants to search my pockets. They found a gold watch in my blazer pocket. I really don’t know how it got there, but then the police were called and I was arrested and taken to the police station.” I had to stop speaking there because I’d blurted it all out so fast I was now out of breath.

Mr Lewis allowed me to get myself together again, and wipe some more tears away, then he asked, “So, what is the situation now, Fiona?”

“The police said I would be getting a summons in about a week’s time and that would tell me when I had to appear in court. I really don’t know what to do, sir. I mean, I’m obviously going to be convicted and, apart from the punishment, I’m going to get a criminal record and that will mean no university will take me, and that will mean I can’t become a doctor, and that is going to ruin my whole life.” I began to run out of breath again.

“So, how did the watch get to be in your pocket, Fiona?”

I paused. “I don’t know, sir. One of the other girls handed it to me for me to have a look at it, but I thought I’d handed it back to her. Unfortunately I must have absentmindedly put it in my pocket.”

“It couldn’t have got there any other way?”

“Well, the other two girls both say they didn’t put it there, and I have no reason to suppose they did. I certainly didn’t feel anything.”

“And how do the other two stand? With regard to the police, I mean.”

“I refused to name them, sir.”

“Right. And are you prepared to tell me their names?”

I sniffed back another tear and shook my head.

“Okay, well let’s not dwell on that for the moment. And you haven’t told your parents, I deduce from what your question earlier, about me not having to tell them what you say to me.”

I shook my head vigorously.

“This really is a lot for you to have to deal with, Fiona, without the support of your parents or someone, I mean.”

I nodded.

“But how are you going to avoid them finding out, Fiona?”

I shrugged. “I’m getting up early each morning so I get to the post first. Then I can get hold of the summons before they see it. I’ll just have to hope my name doesn’t appear in the local paper. Then I’ll say I changed my mind about going to university and becoming a doctor.”

“You seem to have it all worked out, Fiona.”

I shrugged again. “There’s nothing else I can do. I made a silly mistake and I’m going to have to pay for it. I’ve no choice.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that, Fiona. There are one or two things we could do.”

Through my tears that were flowing quite steadily now, I didn’t really hear what Mr Lewis said properly.

“Sorry, sir?”

“I said there were one or two things we could consider, Fiona.”

“Like what, sir?”

“Well obviously it might help if you were to divulge the names of the other two so I, or someone, could question them and perhaps throw some more light on how that watch came to be in your pocket.”

“I couldn’t, sir.”

“Okay. Well, then I could gently approach the police and perhaps Mr Hudson and see whether there is any possibility you could be dealt with under the school’s disciplinary system rather than the court.”

“Is there any chance of that, sir?” I asked, extremely doubtfully.

“It’s something we used to do at my old school, although I gather it hasn’t been done much at this school. But I can’t remember a time when we weren’t successful. I don’t see why it should be any different here, and I don’t see there’s any harm done in trying. That is, if you want me to.”

“But, what would happen about the court case, sir?”

“If we were allowed to deal with it then there wouldn’t be a court case, Fiona.”

“And no criminal record?”

“No criminal record, so no problems with your university application.”

“And you would be prepared to do that, sir?” I took the latest in a steady supply of tissues passed to me by Mr Lewis, blew my nose firmly, and thus narrowly prevented another flood of tears.

“Of course.”

“That’s, that’s brilliant, sir.” I could hardly believe my ears. Perhaps there was, after all, just a chance my whole life wouldn’t be ruined. “And what about my parents, sir? Would they need to know?”

“No, not necessarily, although I do still think you should involve them. But, I’ll leave that decision to you. The police haven’t informed them, obviously?”

“No, sir. Because I’m over sixteen they said they didn’t need to.”

“I see. Well, it’s a bit late in the day for me to start contacting people now, but I have a fairly easy day tomorrow so I’ll get to it first thing in the morning.”

“That’s brilliant, sir. Thank you so much.” For the first time in days, I managed something resembling a smile.

“Not at all, Fiona. There is just one thing, though.”

“Yes, sir?”

“There will still have to be a punishment, you know Fiona. You aren’t going to get off scot free.”

I felt my face redden. “No, sir. I understand that. Do you have any idea what I might get?”

“Well, that’s something we can discuss between ourselves. Do you have anything in mind that might be appropriate? It would, of course, need to be a fairly robust punishment.”

“No, sir.” My mind was a blank. In all my excitement at having found a way to save my life, the thought of what the school might do to me hadn’t crossed my mind for a moment. “I wouldn’t be expelled, would I?”

Mr Lewis smiled. “No, I think at this relatively late stage of your school career, that would be quite pointless and just give you much the same sort of headache as we are trying to avoid. I think a lengthy suspension, too, would be inappropriate for the same reason.”

“Detention?” I asked extremely doubtfully, thinking a detention could hardly be called a ‘robust punishment’.

“Possibly.” Mr Lewis answered, equally dubiously. “Perhaps it would have to be something like ten or fifteen hours of detentions. Perhaps one hour an evening every day for two or three weeks, something like that.”

“It would soon get around the school that I was being punished for something pretty massive,” I said, thinking out aloud. “It would be terribly humiliating too, having to spend detention with the younger girls. Not many sixth formers get detentions, sir.” I smiled wryly.

“No.” Mr Lewis smiled weakly too. “I suppose you could serve your detentions here in my office. We couldn’t allow you to just sit doing your homework, of course. It would need to be made clear you were here to be punished. Perhaps you could stand facing the wall, or something.”

“With my hands on my head?” I said rather sardonically.

“Possibly.” Mr Lewis appeared not to appreciate my weak attempt at humour.

“It would still be quite humiliating if anyone came in, sir.”

“True. And I do get a few girls dropping by to ask something or other, but they’re usually gone by quarter past four, and we could perhaps tell any visitors to be discreet about what was happening.”

I wasn’t convinced, but then I didn’t have any better ideas either. As I wracked my brain a horrible thought dawned on me, something I needed to rule out. “Is there any chance I could be caned, sir?”

“We could consider that, or the slipper of course. It would certainly get it over with quickly and discreetly. Yes, I can see the benefits, Fiona. It would probably help to convince the other parties to allow you to be dealt with by the school, too.”

Oh God! Mr Lewis thought I was asking him to cane me!

“No! Sorry, sir! No! I was just trying to make sure there would be no possibility of being caned, sir. I wasn’t volunteering!”

“Oh, I see. Sorry, I misunderstood you, Fiona.” Mr Lewis smiled. “Having said that, Fiona, perhaps you should have a little think about it. Perhaps not the cane, but the slipper might be the better way to get your punishment over and done with speedily and with total discretion.”

“I’ll certainly think about it, sir.”

“Then again, Fiona, what if one of the other parties ask that you are caned? Should I then say that you would prefer to go to court, with all that entails, after all?”

Ah! Tricky! I thought quickly. “Well, I suppose sir, if it comes to it, I would have to take the thrashing. The consequences are just too horrendous otherwise.”

“Yes, well, let’s leave it there. I’ll get cracking on sorting something out tomorrow. Come and see me after school and I’ll let you know how I get on.”

I’m not sure how I felt as I walked home from school that evening. I’d been handed a lifeline I didn’t even know existed until Mr Lewis stopped me on my way out of the classroom. The deep despair was much reduced, only confirmation that Mr Lewis’s efforts had been successful would completely remove that. Whatever school punishment was handed out to me would be humiliating and difficult. Perhaps I would feel better when I spoke to Mr Lewis tomorrow.

****

The following day was a bit of a nightmare. I wasn’t concentrating properly and I earned several rebukes from the teachers. Several of my friends asked what was wrong but I couldn’t bring myself to tell them. By mid-morning I knew I wouldn’t be able to contain myself until four o’clock, and resolved to approach Mr Lewis during the lunch break.

“Sir!”

He didn’t hear me, and continued along the corridor.

“Sir!” I ran after him. “Mr Lewis, sir!”

He stopped, turned and allowed me to catch up with him.

“Any news, sir?” I asked, breathless more from anxiety than my running.

“Oh, Fiona! Yes, well we seem to have agreement in principal. I’m just awaiting final confirmation but it does seem our offer has been accepted by all concerned.”

“Oh, that’s great! Thank you, sir!”

“Not at all, Fiona. Come and see me at four o’clock and I should be able to put your mind fully at rest.”

As I turned away, I ran Mr Lewis’s words over and over again in my mind. ‘Our offer has been accepted’. What exactly did that mean? No court case, yes that was good news. A school punishment, yes that would have to be. But what?

At four o’clock I dithered with my books, silently urging all the others to hurry up and leave the classroom so I could be alone with Mr Lewis. Two girls waited to speak to him, and he looked at me several times as he answered their queries. Finally, they were gone and I approached the teacher’s desk.

“Pull up a chair, Fiona.”

I did as I was asked and was soon sitting beside the desk.

“Okay, well it’s all sorted. You will eventually receive a letter telling you there will be no prosecution but you can rest assured it’s all over.”

“That’s great, thank you sir.” I answered. I allowed myself a small sigh of relief, but my heart was still pounding a little faster than normal for I knew it wasn’t actually quite all over. I still wasn’t free to leave.

“I hope that has lifted a weight off your shoulders, Fiona.”

“Oh yes, sir. It certainly has.”

We sat smiling and looking at each other for some moments, until the suspense became too much for me. “So, what happens now, sir?”

“Ah, yes. Well now we have to decide what to do with you, Fiona. Have you had any thoughts?”

I shrugged. “Not really sir.” I lied. I’d not been thinking about much else. “I suppose I’d prefer not to be caned, sir, but if that has to be my punishment then I’ll have to accept it.”

“Okay.” Mr Lewis nodded thoughtfully. “Let’s rule out the cane. What would you suggest?”

“I don’t know, sir.”

“Let me give you two choices then, Fiona. I think I mentioned ten or fifteen hours of detentions. Let’s split the difference and call it twelve. You would have to spend one hour each day after school, for twelve consecutive school days, in here, facing the wall with your hands on your head. Okay?”

I cursed myself for making that fatuous remark at our meeting yesterday. I nodded. That didn’t sound terribly appealing.

“Otherwise, it’s ten of the slipper,” Mr Lewis continued.

I knew it was coming. Even so, hearing the words made me flinch visibly.

“Unless you can come up with a better idea, Fiona, I think that’s your two choices.”

I thought. I sat back in the small uncomfortable chair and thought some more. Eventually, I spoke. “I can’t say either option is particularly attractive, sir.”

“No, but then would any punishment appear pleasant?”

Fair point! My brain struggled for some fresh alternative. Suspension? It would affect my studies, others would find out about it, hard to conceal from parents. Spending hours collecting litter from the grounds? Highly noticeable, much teasing from other girls especially the younger ones. Extra work? Not practical, I’m already working as hard as I can on my regular studies.

“Not easy to think of anything else, is it Fiona?” Mr Lewis clearly knew what was in my thoughts.

“No, sir.”

“I have tried to think of something a little more palatable, Fiona, but I couldn’t come up with any other alternatives that wouldn’t cause you other problems.

I nodded thoughtfully. Mr Lewis was right. I was left with just two viable choices, neither appealing. Long and drawn out humiliation with Mr Lewis’s detention or quick humiliation courtesy of a slipper. I’d had just two one hour detentions and they were tedious. I’d never received corporal punishment of any kind before in my life. I feared the cane because it was easy to imagine how much it must hurt. I’d seen a couple of girls slippered in class, just two or three whacks each. They’d winced and gasped, but both went back to their seats embarrassed but smiling with their discomfiture. I didn’t fear the pain from the slipper, although I knew it would hurt to some degree, just the humiliation. Mr Lewis was keeping quiet, allowing me to consider the options. Time for me to speak.

“If I chose the detentions, they would start tomorrow evening, sir?”

Mr Lewis nodded. “Yes, I can’t see why not.”

Staying on at school every night for more than two weeks, that was going to be hard to explain to my parents and to my friends. I could imagine the rumours circulating too, as word got round I was being kept in every evening. An excuse about extra work or some special project would bring forth more questions and make it even harder to explain.

“And if I chose the other option, sir?”

“We could do it now and get it over with.”

Now? I know it was silly of me, but I was thinking there would be an appointment made, tomorrow after school at the earliest, maybe some time next week, when I would have to meet Mr Lewis at some location within the school and there would be this great ceremony, almost like an execution. I felt my heart beating faster. I had only to say the word and it would happen, like now!

I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Okay, sir.”

“Sorry, Fiona? You want to do what?”

“I’ll take the slipper, sir.” It felt like someone else was speaking, but I recognised the voice as my own.

“Okay.” Mr Lewis immediately reached down to the bottom right drawer of his desk, leaving me anxiously toying with my fingers as I looked on. After some long moments of rummaging, Mr Lewis sat upright again. “Damn! I forgot. I lent my slipper to Miss Harrison. I’ll have to go and fetch it from her classroom. I won’t be a moment.”

As Mr Lewis left the room I was able to relax at least a little, grateful for the brief respite. I knew I had several minutes because Miss Harrison’s classroom is at the other end of the building. Obviously I was anxious about what was going to happen shortly, but the knowledge that when I finally left for home that very evening all the fears of the court case would be behind me was a big weight off my mind. Of course I rethought my decision to take the slippering over the detention several times as I waited on my own, idly staring at the piles of exercise books on the desk beside me, all waiting to be marked, but I think deep down I knew I’d made the right decision.

All too soon, I heard footsteps in the corridor and then the door suddenly burst open. As Mr Lewis strode toward his desk I stood up, as a nervous reaction rather than for any good reason. Mr Lewis placed the large white plimsoll, it must have been at least a size twelve, on the desk and stared thoughtfully down at the floor.

“What do I have to do, sir?” I asked after waiting what seemed like a long time. I felt awkward asking. Obviously I had to bend over, but where exactly did he want me?

“I was just thinking, Fiona.” Mr Lewis looked up and towards me. “I’m not sure whether it would be better to pop along to the gymnasium and put you across a vaulting horse, or perhaps use one of those desks.” He nodded towards the lines of desks behind me.

“Does it matter?” I snapped, my mind more engrossed with the effect that large slipper was going to have on my backside than any semantics about location. The two girls I’d seen slippered were both asked to touch their toes in front of the classroom so I assumed much the same was in store for me.

“No, I suppose not.” Mr Lewis replied, ignoring my rudeness. “I just thought a padded vaulting horse might be a little more comfortable for you, that’s all.”

Oh! I tried to think of some appropriate reply but the best I could manage was: “I don’t mind, sir.”

“Okay, we’ll do it here then.” Mr Lewis picked up the slipper and began flexing it in his hands. “You’d better take your blazer off, Fiona.”

“Okay, sir.” I answered, the surprise clearly sounding in my voice. I unbuttoned my black blazer and began to slide out of it, not having any idea why I was being asked to do this.

“I should wrap it round the back of that chair, Fiona.” Mr Lewis pointed the large plimsoll at the small chair I’d been sitting on earlier. I did as he suggested, then stood rather self-consciously as he looked at me.

“I should take your tie off too, Fiona.”

“Sir,” I replied, and began unfastening the red and yellow striped tie. I laid it across the top of my blazer without waiting for guidance from Mr Lewis. I tucked my white blouse further into the tight waistband of my light grey trousers and generally neatened my appearance. I don’t know why, but Mr Lewis seemed content to stand and watch me.

“I think actually, Fiona, it would be better if you pulled your blouse out of the top of your trousers.”

Strange! School rules dictate that blouses should be securely tucked into the tops of skirts or trousers, not hanging loose. Still, he was the teacher. I did as I was told.

“Okay, Fiona, I think we are ready.”

My heart beat faster, and I felt distinctly nervous. I lifted my arms up and let them flop back to my sides again. “Okay, sir, where do you want me? What do I have to do?” My voice was anxiously loud.

Mr Lewis came out from behind his desk and we stood facing each other. “Let’s use that desk, please Fiona.” He looked round and past me, and I turned my head round to stare at the school desk directly behind.

“Right!” I spoke with a distinct tremor. I turned and went those few steps over to the chosen desk. “How do you want me, sir?” I asked, after I’d been staring down at the desk for some moments.

“Just stand with your back to me and bend across the desk, please Fiona.”

Suddenly, I felt very self-conscious. I could feel Mr Lewis’s eyes staring at me as I made sure I was standing exactly square to the desk and then started to lean forward. The feeling of embarrassment increased as I felt my already tight grey trousers becoming even tighter across my bottom. I was wearing brief white knickers underneath my trousers and I knew they would leave a distinctly visible panty line as I bent down.

The desk was a little low for my five foot seven inch height and I rested my elbows on the top of the desk, pushing my body down until it rested on my arms. I bent my legs slightly in order to push my bottom out a little more, following an instinct inside me that said I should cooperate and give Mr Lewis every opportunity to hit me squarely on my bottom.

“Keep still, Fiona. Try to avoid moving, and try to avoid getting up until you’ve had the full ten whacks.”

“Of course, sir,” I heard myself replying sharply. I know it sounded as though I was letting Mr Lewis know I was going to do that anyway and didn’t need telling, but that wasn’t really what I intended. I chose not to explain myself, thinking that Mr Lewis had my bottom in the perfect position to effect any retribution he felt might be appropriate and that it would be better to take that extra punishment if that was what I had coming to me.

“Uuh!!” Suddenly, without any warning, I felt that large plimsoll crash against the tightly stretched seat of my trousers with quite some considerable force. A sharp stinging sensation spread rapidly across my bottom, remained painfully for some seconds, then slowly began to subside until I was left with a warm glowing feeling and a little soreness.

Aware now that my punishment had started, the second swipe across the seat of my trousers didn’t catch me by surprise like the first one had. Added to that, it didn’t feel quite so hard and so I remained silent as I sensed that first shock of pain followed again by the warm smarting that lasted for a good few moments before eventually diminishing.

The third and fourth times the slipper whacked me across the seat of my trousers seemed to diminish in strength, although that may have been because I was getting used to it. It still hurt, and each time I experienced again that warm tingling sensation that remained for several seconds before slowly reducing until I was left with just a sore, smarting bottom.

After the fifth stroke, I knew I’d made the correct decision in asking for the slippering as my punishment because, while this was a long way from being the most comfortable experience of my life, I now knew it was something I could endure if I had to. That for me was one major hurdle accomplished.

“Uuuh!” I grunted as the next stroke struck home. I think Mr Lewis deliberately increased the force, for whatever reason I’m not too sure. I looked round, and saw him concentrating on my bottom and just where he was going to strike me again, not that he’d deviated much from the centre of my bottom to this point.

I looked forwards, just as the big plimsoll swung down and hit me with just as much force as the previous whack. The pain was still manageable but my whole bottom was now feeling quite sore, and I was glad I only had another three strokes to take.

As I anticipated the next whack, I foolishly began thinking that at least my punishment was happening in private, and I gained some comfort from the knowledge that at least only a select few people would have any idea of its nature. Then the slipper struck home, this time pointedly across just my left buttock and my concentration was taken by the moments when the pain glowed hot and scorching across the left side of my bottom until the effects slowly drifted away again.

After a few seconds I looked round to check whether Mr Lewis was intending the next stroke to fall on the right side of my bottom. That was when I saw for the first time the three faces peering through the glass panes in the door. We were being watched by three girls, three girls from the next year down from me, or was it the second year down? Whatever, suddenly my hopes of secrecy were dashed forever!

Only the large plimsoll swinging down and striking me, as expected, across my right buttock interrupted for a moment the horror I was experiencing. Indeed, my thoughts were so much with the sight of the three girls at the door, all giggling with delight at what they were witnessing, that the pain of the stroke was but an inconvenience compared with the anguish of discovery.

At this late stage of my punishment, it seemed almost churlish to deny those girls the thrill of witnessing the conclusion of my spanking. Nonetheless, I nodded towards the door and for the first time since the outset of the slippering, one of us spoke.

“I think we have visitors, sir.”

Mr Lewis looked round, saw the three girls and instantly wagged a finger in their direction, beckoning them into the classroom.

The three girls, two blonde and one with very dark brown hair, must have been concentrating so hard on Mr Lewis whacking my bottom they hadn’t seen me looking at them, otherwise surely they’d have run off at the first sign of discovery. As it was, three now smirking girls, for they at least had the good sense to stifle to some degree their sniggering mirth, tentatively opened the door and walked in.

“Can I help you three?” Mr Lewis asked sternly.

“Er, we just wanted a word about our homework, sir,” One blonde girl answered, just about able to keep a straight face. Her eyes focused on me, though, rather than looking their teacher in the face.

“We didn’t want to interrupt while you were busy, sir,” the dark haired girl added, barely able to hide her glee nor divert her gaze from me.

“Go outside and wait at the end of the corridor,” Mr Lewis bellowed. “I’ll call you when I’m free. This is a private matter and as such I’ll ask you all to keep what you have seen to yourselves. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” All three girls just about managed to answer without bursting into a fit of schoolgirlish giggles.

“Off you go then, and if word of this does get around I shall know who blame, won’t I?”

“Yes, sir,” The three replied as they turned.

“And there won’t be any prizes for guessing what the punishment will be if this does get out. Right?”

The girls were just about through the door now, and shrieked excitedly as they heard Mr Lewis’s warning, even if they did also add, “Yes, sir.”

“Sorry about that, Fiona,” Mr Lewis turned his attention back to me. “Now, where were we?”

“Just one more to go, sir.”

“So there was. Hold still, then.”

I braced myself again and waited. Within just four or five seconds I felt the large plimsoll smack me across the centre of my bottom with as firm a blow as I’d received throughout the whole session.

“Oooch!!” I cried out, not loudly, but enough to let Mr Lewis know that final stroke had indeed been felt! The warm smarting feeling stayed with me longer than any time before too and I heard Mr Lewis telling my I could get up before the effects had even started to drift away.

I eased myself up off the desk and began rubbing my bottom. It felt sore and my bottom seemed to press against the material of the trousers with a tightness that wasn’t there before the punishment. I turned and looked for my blazer on the back of the little chair by Mr Lewis’s desk.

“Well, at least it’s all over now, Fiona,” Mr Lewis said as he reached down and replaced the plimsoll in the bottom drawer of his desk.

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,” I answered as I began threading my arm into one sleeve of the blazer. I finished putting the garment on while Mr Lewis sat in his chair watching me.

“Sore?” Mr Lewis asked as I started rubbing my bottom again.

“A bit. Yes, sir,” I replied. When Mr Lewis nodded rather sheepishly, I added quickly, “But certainly better than what might have been, sir.”

“Ah, well I’m glad you think so, Fiona.”

“Yes, thank you sir.”

“I’ll make sure those three girls keep this to themselves, Fiona. Trust me on that.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Send them in, would you?”

“Yes, sir. Goodnight, sir.”

“See you tomorrow. Goodnight, Fiona.”

Unfortunately, there was no way out other than by walking past the three girls, so I already knew I was going to have to face them at some point. I took a deep breath, pulled the door open and stepped out into the corridor. I shut the door carefully after me so it wouldn’t slam, and that seemed to take an age because I knew the three girls would be watching my every action once I was in their view.

With as much dignity as I could summon up, I walked slowly and steadily down the corridor towards them. Although I didn’t particularly focus on their faces, I was very aware they were studying me carefully for any sign of distress. I intended to disappoint them on that score at least!

“Mr Lewis says you can go in now.” I spoke as the three looked at me, smirking, not sure how far they dared push their luck.

“A private arrangement, was it?” The smaller of the two blonde girls asked, with obvious innuendo.

“I got myself into a bit of trouble and Mr Lewis punished me for it. Okay?”

“Okay,” the blonde girl responded, still smirking.

“It probably wouldn’t be good to keep Mr Lewis waiting.” I encouraged the three to move away and get along to Mr Lewis’s classroom.

The three burst into fits of giggles, but at least they did turn away and start walking along the corridor. I too turned and went along to the toilets where, after making sure there was no-one around, I quickly peeled my trousers and knickers down and looked at my bottom in the mirror.

“Sheesh!!” I exclaimed to just myself as I saw just how red my whole bottom had become. I reckoned I would have to be careful about changing for games the following day, for I couldn’t see how those marks were going to fade away in less than twenty-four hours.

The End

© Sheila MacKintosh 2009