“I just love fish and chips,” Patricia Morrison said to her older sister as they sat at the large kitchen table.
“Definitely!” Sarah Morrison confirmed as she used her fingers to put a piece of crisp batter into her mouth. “It’s the quintessential English food.”
“We’re lucky to have such a good fish and chip shop in the village.”
“Yes, although now I’ve passed my driving test and daddy’s bought me my little car, we’re only on the edge of town. It makes other take-aways within range now.”
“Maybe we could hold a party at the weekend and invite some friends over for, I don’t know, maybe a Chinese take-away meal.”
“Could do,” Sarah replied thoughtfully. “Even better, we could take the car over to Dieppe on the ferry and stock up on wine and all sorts of French food. That would be a real party.”
“We don’t have another school holiday until half-term. That’s like five weeks away. I was thinking about this coming Saturday.”
Sarah paused. “I don’t have anything special in the way of lessons tomorrow. Do you?”
“No, but I don’t think our dear headmaster is going to let us take the day off just so we can pop over to France and stock up on booze and grub for a party.”
“Maybe, he doesn’t have to know,” Sarah said before taking another mouthful of fried fish. “Maybe we could tell a little white lie and phone in tomorrow to say we’d had a fish supper and it must have been off because we were both up most of the night with poorly stomachs, and now we’re both exhausted.”
“That’s a bit more than a little white lie, Sarah!” Patricia exclaimed. “Besides, this fish is excellent.”
“I know, but we don’t have to tell Mr Carpenter that. It might have been something we bought at the supermarket. Maybe it was at the back of the freezer and was getting a bit old.”
“And what if we get caught?”
“We wouldn’t get caught. I mean, it’s not like anyone is going to forensically examine the remains of the fish is it?”
“But, if we do get caught?”
“Detention? At worst a few whacks with Mr Carpenter’s paddle.”
“Sarah! That plastic paddle of his hurts! And you know he always whacks on the seat of girls’ knickers.”
“So? I think I’d prefer that to an hour’s boring detention.”
“Really?”
The following day at East Hogley Private School for Girls, it was 8.30 and the school secretary, Ann Hooper, had just put the phone down as the headmaster, John Carpenter, walked into the office.
“Ah, headmaster, I’ve just taken a phone call from Sarah Morrison. She, and her sister, Patricia, have been up all night with some kind of food poisoning. She’s put it down to some fish they ate which had been in their freezer for a while. Sarah seemed pretty sure they’d be in tomorrow.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. But yes, no point them coming into school if they’re exhausted.”
“That’s what I thought, headmaster. There’s no other messages for you at present.”
“Good. I’ll be in my office getting something together for assembly.” The headmaster went to the door of his adjoining office and paused. “Actually, thinking about it, let’s get the school day well underway, and then perhaps we ought to send someone to pop over to Sarah and Patricia’s house to see how they are and maybe run any errands they need, like something from the chemist.”
“I’ll organize that, headmaster.”
Later that morning, games mistress Hilary Neville and Ann Hooper arrived at the Morrison household.
“Wow! What a lovely old house,” Hilary declared as they parked their car on the driveway and approached the house. “Their garage is bigger than my house.”
“Yes, their father is something high up in the Diplomatic Service, and he and his wife spend a lot of time in the Middle East. When Sarah passed her driving test and father bought her a new car, it was felt the girls were old enough to live in the house. Prior to that they were both boarders.”
They reached the large wooden front door. Ann Hooper pushed the old doorbell and used her knuckles to knock on the door several times.
Getting no immediate response, Ann then held the letterbox flap open and called, “Girls, it’s Ann from school. Just wanted to see how you were and whether you needed us to get anything from the chemist for you.”
Still no answer.
“Perhaps they’re asleep in bed,” Hilary suggested.
“Possibly. I’m just wondering why Sarah’s car isn’t in the driveway.”
“Perhaps it’s in the garage,” Hilary suggested. “I’ll check.”
Hilary walked over to the garage and peered through a side window.
“Nope, just two very old Rolls Royces, from the 1930s at a guess,” she announced when she returned to Ann. “Maybe Sarah has gone to the chemist in it?”
Before Ann could respond, an older lady with grey hair walked up the drive.
“Can I help you ladies?” she asked.
“We’re from Sarah and Patricia’s school,” Ann explained. “They’re a bit poorly, so we came over to see if they needed anything.”
“Poorly? They seemed okay when they set off this morning. I’m Melanie Summerfield from the house opposite. I sort of keep an eye on them when their parents are away.”
“You saw them?” Ann said, surprised. “That’s worrying. They certainly didn’t make it into school today.”
“Oh no, they’ve gone over to France on the ferry. They wanted to stock up for the party they’re having on Saturday.”
“Oh, really!”
The following morning, Sarah and Patricia journeyed into school as usual.
“We’d better pop into Ann Hooper’s office, just to show we’re both fit and well again,” Sarah suggested. She tapped gently on Ann’s door and pushed it open.
“Good morning, Mrs Hooper. Patricia and I reporting we’re back to school as usual,” Sarah said brightly.
“Ah, Sarah and Patricia! Glad you’re feeling better. Could you hang on for a moment? I think Mr Carpenter would like a word.”
“No problem, Sarah said as the school secretary went across to the communicating door and opened it.
“Sarah and Patricia Morrison, headmaster.”
“Show them in, would you?”
Patricia glared at her older sister as they entered the headmaster’s office. John Carpenter was a short man, rather chubby, with thinning brown hair. He bid them stand in front of his desk and looked them up and down, as though inspecting their school uniform of red blazer over white blouse, red and grey striped tie, and grey trousers for Sarah, permitted for several years as an alternative option to a grey skirt, and Patricia in a more traditional fairly tight-fitting grey skirt.
“So, you’re both feeling better, are you girls?”
“Yes, sir,” they both replied, Patricia sounding a little more doubtful.
“Presumably, you were too ill to answer the door when Mrs Hooper and Miss Neville called to see if you needed anything?”
“Um, perhaps we were asleep, sir,” Sarah answered. “Our bedrooms are on the top floor and we don’t always hear the doorbell.”
Patricia frowned. There was something about the shine in the headmaster’s eyes that worried her.
“And your car was nowhere to be seen, Sarah,” the headmaster continued. “Where was it?”
“Probably in the garage, sir.”
“No, they looked there, before a neighbour of yours said she’d seen you driving off early that morning in the opposite direction to the school.”
Sarah fell silent.
“Let’s not beat about the bush, girls. This neighbour told Miss Neville and Mrs Hooper you were intending to catch the ferry across to France to stock up for a party you were planning for Saturday. That sounds to me a lot closer to the truth. Were you really ill, girls?”
Sarah looked at Patricia, who glared back with a look that said, ‘I told you so.’
“No, sir.”
“So, was the neighbour’s version of events pretty much what happened?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What you probably don’t know is that when we were told you both were ill, we telephoned your parents to inform them of the situation. They, of course, were quite concerned and I reassured them by telling them we would be sending a couple of staff members round to your house to see if they could help in any way.
“When I then had to telephone them a second time to tell them what was really going on, they were, how can I put it, not amused.”
The headmaster looked up at the two girls. At least they appeared contrite. Patricia looked worried, and the older Sarah was clearly wondering where this was all leading.
At that moment, Patricia decided to speak.
“Sir, we have clearly misbehaved in a totally unacceptable way. I’m sure neither of us will ever do such a stupid thing again, and we’re extremely sorry for having acted so stupidly. However, what is done cannot be undone. We realise that punishment is inevitable.”
“Oh yes, Patricia,” John Carpenter confirmed. “There will be punishment, be in no doubt about that.”
“Obviously, we’ll accept whatever punishment you consider appropriate, headmaster,” Sarah added, with a knowing look at her sister.
“Look girls, I’ve known you both for well over ten years, since you both started at this school. You know how I would usually have dealt with something like this. Unfortunately, your parents have decided what should be done, and I merely have to carry out their request.”
Both girls seemed perplexed and even quite apprehensive. They had each separately expected the headmaster to stipulate the number of times his well-known plastic paddle would impact with each of their backsides, but it now appeared something else was going to happen.
“Aren’t you going to spank both our bottoms, sir?” Patricia asked forthrightly. “I’m sure that’s what we were both expecting.”
“And that would have been my preferred option, Patricia,” John Carpenter replied. “However, your parents have demanded something slightly different.”
“Slightly different?” Patricia queried.
“Yes, they have asked that you both be caned.”
“Caned?” Both sisters responded simultaneously.
“I’ve never heard of any girl here being caned before, headmaster,” Sarah said.
“I didn’t know the school kept a cane, sir,” Patricia added.
“You’re both correct, girls. No girl has ever been caned before, because we don’t actually have a cane. I’ve always found my methods using my spanking paddle quite sufficient. However, your parents, especially your mother, were quite adamant that a cane be applied to your bottoms.”
“I can well imagine that, headmaster,” Sarah said with a glance towards her sister.
“I think we might still have a cane at home, sir,” Patricia suggested. “I’m not sure where it is now, but we could have a bit of a search this evening, if that would help?”
“If we do, it’s going to be quite old now,” Sarah frowned towards her younger sister. “It might not be in terribly good condition.”
“Thank you, Patricia, but don’t worry. Mrs Hooper knows of a supplier of rattan and other types of cane on an industrial estate only ten miles away. She’ll pop over and fetch us something suitable once school has settled down for the day.”
“So, when are we likely to receive our punishments, sir?”
“Towards the latter end of lunch, Patricia. Failing that, after school today. I wouldn’t want you to have to dwell on it any longer than necessary.”
Their last lessons of the morning having ended at 12.20, Sarah and Patricia met up and went along to Mrs Hooper’s office. Sarah tapped on the door, half opened it, and peered inside.
“Any news, Mrs Hooper?”
“News? Oh, you mean about the cane. Yes, I managed to purchase something suitable. Mr Carpenter needs to cut it down to size, and then he’ll be able to deal with you. Go and have some lunch and come back at 1.30. Everything should be ready by then.”
The two sisters sat together to eat their lunch, interrupted by a number of girls wanting to question them. Everyone, it seemed, knew about their journey to France the previous day, and everyone was convinced the outcome would be a smacked bottom for both of them.
“We know he had you in his office earlier,” one girl commented. “So have you already been spanked with Mr Carpenter’s plastic paddle?”
“No, they’re sitting on those hard plastic chairs and neither of them are wriggling around. They haven’t had it yet,” another girl said with apparent certainty.
“Have you?” Yet another girl asked.
“Shouldn’t we just tell them?” Patricia asked her sister.
“Why not. It won’t make any difference,” Sarah answered.
“Come on, tell us!”
“Sarah and I appeared before our headmaster earlier today, following our French expedition yesterday,” Patricia continued. “We have admitted our guilt and are waiting to be punished in a short while after we have had our lunch.”
“So, why the delay? Why didn’t he do it earlier?” One girl wanted to know.
“Yes, he usually does it straight away,” Another girl added.
“Because he spoke to our parents on the telephone yesterday, and our mother has asked that we be caned rather than receive the headmaster’s usual spanking with his paddle.”
“Wow! I didn’t know he kept a cane,” someone declared.
“He doesn’t, or didn’t,” Patricia answered. “He sent Mrs Hooper out to buy one, hence we’re getting it shortly rather than when we were in his office earlier.”
Sarah looked at her watch. “Actually, we need to be getting along there right now.”
Patricia and Sarah got up and took their plates to the counter, before heading out the door and walking along the corridor towards the offices of Mrs Hooper and Mr Carpenter. Most of the girls still in the lunchroom crowded around the door and watched.
“You do realise this is all your fault,” Patricia whispered in her sister’s ear.
“How did I know he’d send someone to our house? That’s the only reason we got caught.”
“And now we have to pay the price.”
“Well, yes.”
They arrived at Mrs Hooper’s office, tapped on the door and went in.
“Bang on time, girls,” the secretary greeted them.
“Sounds like you’re ready for us,” Sarah remarked.
“Yes, I was able to buy a length of suitable rattan cane. Now, it’s sitting on Mr Carpenter’s desk waiting for you,” Mrs Hooper said with a smile.
Sarah turned to her sister. “At least someone is enjoying this.”
“It’s always good to see naughty girls getting their come-uppance,” Mrs Hooper confirmed.
“Shall we go in?” Patricia asked, wanted to get it over with.
“Follow me, girls.” Mrs Hooper stood up, went across to the door to Mr Carpenter’s office, knocked and pushed the door wide open. “Through you go, girls.”
As Sarah led the way, Patricia looked over her shoulder and saw a two-and-a-half foot length of yellow rattan cane lying on the headmaster’s desk. She kept her eyes on it as she lined up alongside her sister in front of the headmaster’s desk. After closing the door behind them, Mrs Hooper stood at the end of the desk.
“Girls, Mrs Hooper, we all know what has to happen now. Sarah and Patricia, we’ve already discussed what led you to this point, so I suggest it will be better for all of us if we don’t now prevaricate. I’ll be using this cane at your parents’ request, but otherwise I think we’ll conduct your punishments in exactly the same way as I would have done had I been going to spank you with my usual paddle.”
The headmaster paused in case either girl had anything to say, but they both remained silent.
“Mrs Hooper, perhaps you would take both girls out to your office and prepare them.”
“Come along, girls.” Mrs Hooper opened the door back to her office and let both girls pass through. She then opened the outer door and looked both ways along the corridor. “You girls! Get along to your classes!”
“I imagine there’s a lot of interest in what’s going to be done with us,” Patricia remarked as she heard several pairs of footsteps retreating along the corridor.
Mrs Hooper smiled knowingly. “Okay, girls, you know how Mr Carpenter likes to do things. Which of you wants to go first?”
Patricia glared at her sister.
“I presume you want to get it over with, sis?” Sarah offered.
“Not really. I mean, no. You go first.”
“Okay, if you’re sure.”
“I am.”
Sarah slowly removed her red school blazer and folded it. “Can I put this on your desk, please Mrs Hooper?”
“Let me clear some space for you,” the secretary answered, and immediately shifted some folders over to leave plenty of room.
“Thanks.” Sarah continued her preparations by unfastening her tie and putting on top of her blazer. Then, she kicked off her black shoes and undid the button at the top of her grey trousers. After sliding the zip down, she allowed the trousers to slip down to her ankles, then with one hand steadying herself on the edge of the desk she bent down, untangled the trousers from her ankles, Straightening, she carefully folded the trousers and placed them on top of her blazer.
Aware of both Mrs Hooper and her sister looking at her white brief knickers showing under the tails of her white blouse, she asked, “Will this be okay?”
“That will be fine, I’m sure,” Mrs Hooper replied. “Are you ready to go in?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Sarah responded with a sigh. Then she added, “Might as well get it over with.”
Placing an arm around Sarah’s shoulders, Mrs Hooper led her to the door of Mr Carpenter’s office, tapped and opened the door, then steered the girl inside. As the door closed, Patricia sat down and looked around the secretary’s office. A noise outside the door that led to the corridor caught her attention. She got up, crept up to the door and quickly pulled it open.
“What do you three want?” Patricia snapped as she came face-to-face with three of her classmates: Elizabeth Barton, Susan Smith and Jennifer Arquart.
“Just wanted to check you were okay,” Elizabeth replied with a smile that reeked of insincerity.
“It doesn’t look like you’ve been in yet,” Susan observed. “You haven’t, have you?”
“No, no tears,” Jennifer noted.
A sharp cracking sound emanated from the headmaster’s office.
“Ouch! I bet that hurt,” Susan said. “Obviously, your poor sister is getting it first.”
“Poor?” Patricia exclaimed. “It was all her idea!”
As all four girls listened at the open door to the corridor, they heard more cracking sounds coming from the closed door to the headmaster’s office.
“How many is she getting?” Jennifer asked, looking directly at Patricia.
“I’ve no idea.”
“What? You don’t know how many you’re getting, Pat?”
Patricia shook her head.
“I’d want to know,” Elizabeth declared. “I’d hate not to know.”
“That’s five,” Susan stated, just before another crack was heard.
“Probably giving her six of the best,” Jennifer suggested.
Another crack sounded from within the headmaster’s office, then nothing.
“Doesn’t sound like she’s getting up yet,” Elizabeth said as she listened intently.
“No, I think there’s more,” Susan confirmed.
“OMG! Are you getting the same, Pat?”
Patricia shrugged her shoulders. Another crack was followed by another.
“That’s eight!” Elizabeth confirmed. “And still no sound of Sarah getting up.”
“And nine!” Susan added, as the cracking sound was heard again.
“My god, she’s getting a real thrashing!” Jennifer observed.
“I don’t envy you, Pat,” Elizabeth said with a grin as she looked at Patricia.
A tenth stroke was heard, and then came the sound of stirrings.
“Is that it?” Jennifer asked of no one in particular.
“Sounds like it,” Elizabeth confirmed. “Quick! Let’s get out of here,” she added as they heard footsteps and then saw the handle on the door starting to turn.
Patricia was alone seconds later when the door to Mr Carpenter’s office was pulled open and a tearful Sarah came through, closely followed by Mrs Hooper. Patricia looked on in amazement.
“I’ll get you some tissues,” Mrs Hooper said, and fetched a box from her desk drawer. “Here, wipe your face and dry your eyes, Sarah.”
“My bottom hurts,” Sarah moaned as she took a handful of tissues.
“Yes, I’m sure. Don’t worry, it will soon start to ease. Patricia, you’d better start getting ready.”
Patricia, though, was absorbed looking at her sister.
“Patricia!” Mrs Hooper called firmly. “Start undressing!”
“I’m wearing a skirt, Mrs Hooper. Can’t I just roll it up?”
“It’s too tight, Patricia. It would be very difficult to get it high enough to leave your bottom clear.”
Continuing to study her sister’s suffering, Patricia moved closer to the secretary’s desk and kicked off her shoes. She apprehensively peeled off her red blazer and put it next to her sister’s small pile of clothes. Her tie soon followed, but she hesitated when her fingers began to negotiate the button securing the waistband at the side of her grey uniform skirt.
“Don’t take all day, Patricia,” Mrs Hooper barked. “Mr Carpenter is waiting.”
“I know. Sorry.”
The sharpness of the secretary’s tone prompted Patricia to undo the button of her skirt and start to negotiate the side zip. By this time, her sister’s tears had stopped and she turned to face Patricia.
“Don’t worry, sis. It doesn’t take long.”
Finally, Patricia surrendered her mind to the task in hand and, with her skirt unfastened, she bent down and removed the garment from her long legs. Taller than Sarah by almost six inches, her blouse left more of her white knickers exposed. She tried in vain to discreetly pull her blouse down.
“Ready, Patricia?” Mrs Hooper held a hand out, beckoning the girl to go with her.
With Sarah watching her closely, Patricia knew she had no option but to turn towards the headmaster’s study and the fate that awaited her. Mrs Hooper gently steered her to the connecting door, tapped and opened it, pushing Patricia ahead of her.
“Patricia!” the headmaster stood up from his chair behind his desk.
Patricia quickly looked around. She’d visited his study before, on different and better terms than now, so she recognized most of the furnishings. Different was the clear desk, save for a length of straight cane that seemed to take pride of place across the centre of the desk, and the small chair that usually sat to the side of his desk but now was positioned in front of the desk with its back towards the desk. It looked odd and Patricia did not immediately grasp the significance.
“I don’t know if you counted while Sarah was in here, Patricia, but you will be receiving ten strokes.”
“Yes, sir,” Patricia responded, her eyes still focused on the pale yellow rattan.
“Patricia is a fair bit taller than Sarah, headmaster,” Mrs Hooper observed. “We probably don’t need the chair.”
“A fair point, Mrs Hooper.” John Carpenter said after looking Patricia and the chair up and down. “I’ll move it out of the way.” He returned the chair to its usual position by the side of his desk.
He then picked up the cane and waved a hand for Patricia to step up to the desk.
“Bend over my desk, please Patricia.”
Patricia started forward and immediately found Mrs Hooper by her side.
“That’s it, over you go, Patricia.”
The girl felt a hand in the centre of her back, pushing her forward and down over the desk.
“Try and rest yourself right down on the desk,” Mrs Hooper encouraged. “And don’t forget to stick your bottom out!” The secretary chuckled as she spoke, as though finding the whole episode faintly amusing.
Patricia did not find anything to laugh about as she tried to follow the instructions. The top of the desk felt hard and uncomfortable as her upper body made contact with the smooth surface. First, her elbows gelt awkward and in the way, but by resting her forearms and elbows out from her body, she managed to get herself into a position that she felt she would be able to maintain. It felt like her bottom was already sticking out, but she managed maybe another inch or so.
“Let’s get your blouse tucked up and out of the way,” Mrs Hooper announced, and Patricia soon felt her blouse being carefully pushed up her back until her bare skin, from the top of her brief white knickers to her bra strap, felt the slightly chilly air in the office.
Mrs Hooper stepped slightly back and towards Patricia’s right side. “All yours, headmaster,” she said brightly.
“I think you’ve had whacks before, haven’t you Patricia?” John Carpenter said, grasping the cane between both hands.
“Yes, sir. Twice,” Patricia answered in a whisper.
“Well, this will sting rather more, I think you’ll find.”
‘I thought that,’ Patricia said to herself. ‘OMG, what if someone, a staff member perhaps, knocks on the door and just barges in like they often do? What will they think if they see me like this?’
Awakened from her thoughts by the cane tapping her across the seat of her knickers, Patricia just had time to brace herself before the cane came down at speed and thwacked across the seat of her knickers. She gasped. It stung like nothing she could remember having experienced before. She instinctively felt the need to rub her bottom, but knew this would not be allowed.
Another harsh stroke brought Patricia back to reality. She grunted as the sting dissipated across her bottom. The thought of another eight strokes seemed beyond endurance, yet she knew she had to persevere and hold still for her punishment to be meted out.
A third stroke whipped her brief white knickers, and the sudden rush of pain tore across her bottom. She tried to focus her mind on simply holding still and allowing it to happen. Then she remembered the girls who had poked their noses into the outer office. They would love to have seen her right now.
She reached forward and gripped the further edge of the desk. As she waited for the next stroke, her mind went back to the times when she had been given whacks by Mr Carpenter and his plastic paddle. For those, she’d simply had to bend over and grasp her shins.
Crack! The cane whipped her bottom again, giving her a fresh bout of stinging hurt for her to contend with. Yes, it did sting more, much more, than the plastic paddle.
The next stroke marked the halfway point, leaving just another five to come. A few moments’ respite from the slowly and carefully applied strokes would have been well-received, but that wasn’t going to happen unless Patricia asked. Curiously, it felt easier to keep quiet and let herself be thrashed.
Another stroke smacked into the seat of her brief white knickers. It still stung like crazy, but at least she was past half-way. Starting to realise she would be able to take the full ten strokes and survive, Patricia’s mind drifted to why she was being punished. She doubted Sarah’s plan would work right from the start. She was foolish to go along with it. And now she had to pay the price.
A seventh stroke hit her bottom and she suddenly knew all about paying the price. Her eyes felt watery now, and a tissue to wipe her eyes would have been gratefully received, but that didn’t seem likely. Back to Sarah, and Patricia felt no ill-will towards her sister. She knew she had, maybe a bit reluctantly, agreed to go with her sister, and so she deserved to be in the position she had been required to adopt.
“Ouch!” Another stroke lashed the seat of her underwear and stung dreadfully. Her punishment was getting ever closer to ending and, while it would be good not to have her bottom being constantly smacked so hard, there would then be the other girls to face. They would have questions, mainly silly schoolgirl questions, but that would be another torment to endure.
“Aah!” Patricia again felt tears forming and tried to sniffle them back. Her bottom now was sore all over, and she was fairly certain she just had one more stroke to take. Another severe dose of pain competed with the teasing she expected from the other girls.
Then, crack! The cane hit her across the very centre of her bottom, and it seemed harder than all the rest.
“Eeeeesshh!!”
Tears sprang uncontrollably to her eyes and she felt hot and flushed, and her bottom felt very sore indeed. Patricia could hear Mrs Hooper telling her she could get up, but the words didn’t seem to register. It was only when the secretary touched her on the elbow that she began to push herself up from the desk. Mrs Hooper was ready with a small bunch of tissues.
“Dry your eyes and let’s get you back to my office, my girl.”
“I’m sorry that was necessary, Patricia, but I’m afraid it was down to your own foolishness.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,” she sobbed as Mrs Hooper took her by the arm and led her out into the outer office.
Sarah was dressed now and waiting for her. “All done, sis. That’s the end of it.”
“Huh!”
“Give her time, Sarah,” Mrs Hooper said softly. “She’s feeling rather sorry for herself, and her bottom will be feeling a bit sore. She’ll soon feel better.”
“My bottom feels very sore, thank you!”
“Give it a good rub,” Sarah advised. “Is there something we could apply to ease the pain, Mrs Hooper?”
“Not allowed, Sarah!” Mrs Hooper said as she held Patricia’s skirt for her to step into. “Your bottoms are supposed to feel sore!”
Patricia allowed the secretary to help her into her skirt, noting that it felt even tighter. After a few more tissues to wipe her eyes, Patricia allowed her sister to lead her out of the office and along the corridor until they reached an empty classroom.
“We’ll wait here until lunch break,” Sarah declared firmly.
“Okay.”
“Cheer up, sis. Don’t forget all the lovely stuff we brought back from France. We’ll have a simply splendid party on Saturday.”
“I’m not sure my bottom will have recovered by then.”
“Of course it will. It’s all over now.”
“It might be all over for you. I’ve still got my classmates to deal with.”
“Deal with?”
“I’m sure at some point during the afternoon break I’ll find myself being grabbed and held down while they pull my skirt and knickers down so they see my poor damaged bottom.”
“Do you want me to protect you from them?”
“No, let them have their fun.”
The End
© Kenny Walters 2024