by Frank Martinet
Miss Tara Banks was in a quandary. She'd only been Headmistress of the Wiltshire Valley Finishing School for Proper Young Ladies for two months and already she was facing her first crisis.
Three women sat outside her office. Though they were under twenty, from wealthy families, and supremely attractive, all wore expressions of utter dejection. The night before the three had been caught drinking alcohol and - well, there was no other word for it - frolicking with members of the opposite sex.
Under the strict Wiltshire guidelines, the girls would have to be expelled. There was no other choice. Except the three had volunteered - no, had positively begged - for a radical alternative.
Miss Banks stared at the long brown rattan rod on her desk. Technically there was nothing in the schools bylaws that prevented caning. Wiltshire wasn't a grammar school (all the students were legally adults of at least eighteen), so the state ban on corporal punishment didn't apply. But Tara had never caned anyone and thought the practice barbaric.
What am I going to do? she thought. Expelling the girls would subject them to untold shame from their families, as well as hurting their standing in the community. But their crime was so grievous that it couldn't be overlooked and it wasn't fair to the other students if Tara gave the young ladies a lesser punishment.
The way the girls had begged for a beating instead was almost heart-breaking. Tara wanted to accommodate them, but the concept of caning was just too outside of her comfort zone.
What am I going to do? she thought again, pacing wildly.
A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts and she frowned at the intrusion. Were the girls that eager for their punishment that they couldn't wait for her decision? I shan't be rushed, she thought crossly, and marched to the door and threw it open with a blistering reprimand on the tip of her tongue.
Standing there was a beautiful blond of twenty-one. "Sydney!" cried Tara, both relieved and confused. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm sorry to interrupt, miss, but could I speak with you for a minute?"
For a second Tara wanted to be upset, but then she realized that she felt profound relief at the distraction. Delaying her decision by a few moments wouldn't hurt, she decided, and she welcomed the lady inside.
Sydney King was the top student at Wiltshire. She really should have graduated a year earlier, but had decided to attend for an extra year for advanced studies. Tara was grateful, because the girl had helped her in immeasurable ways, knowing the ins and outs of the school from long experience and being of high intelligence. The young Headmistress already considered Sydney her confidante and practically a faculty advisor.
"I heard about what happened," Sydney said softly. "I spoke with Caroline and she asked me to put in a good word for the cane."
Tara sighed. "Don't tell me you're in favor of the rod, too? It's an abominable tradition, wouldn't you say?"
For a moment the blond didn't answer. When she spoke, it was thoughtful. "Miss Banks, I know you have a high opinion of me. You think of me as a quality person, well-behaved and mature."
"Of course, dear. I adore you. You're a wonderful young woman."
"Thank you. But you may not be aware that I was not always this way. When I was younger, I was quite rebellious and arrogant. I thought my position gave me special privileges and I abused it horrendously." Sydney shook her head sadly. "The things I used to do - tearing into poor shopkeepers and waiters for the slightest of faults, talking my way out of arrests, partying until the wee hours, and so much more. It was Wiltshire that saved me, Miss Banks. Specifically, your predecessor, Mrs. Carlisle."
"She put you on the right track, did she?" Tara asked. She had heard only good things of the elderly former headmistress and thought it was a shame she'd never met the woman. It was so tragic she'd passed away so suddenly from a heart attack last year.
"She did more than that, Miss Banks. She caned me."
Tara stared at the blond in disbelief. "Mrs. Carlisle used the cane? I thought the cane hadn't been used at Wiltshire in decades!"
Sydney smiled and nodded. "Officially that is true. Years ago the cane was used routinely, even for minor offenses such as poor marks in classes. As corporal punishment fell out of favor with the general public, however, it was used less and less. But unofficially, Mrs. Carlisle used the cane in certain situations. Situations like you're facing now."
"So this case does have a precedent?"
"It does. I don't recall a situation with the same circumstances, though I suspect it has happened before, but Wiltshire has high standards and there are many offenses that could get a girl expelled. That wouldn't bother some girls, but others would prefer to have the matter discreetly handled with a simple beating."
"I do understand that and I am sympathetic, but I just don't see how I can use the cane. It's just too... too..." Tara paused, unsure of the word. She knew a word and though it sounded silly, she couldn't think of a better one. "Too weird," she finished, blushing a little at the silliness of it.
Sydney laughed. "I know what you mean. In this day and age, canings are like something from the Dark Ages!"
"Exactly! I feel like part of the Inquisition. It's ridiculous."
"But don't you see, Miss Banks? You have entirely the wrong idea about caning."
"What do you mean?"
"You're thinking of caning as violent torture. It's nothing like that. Granted, I'm sure it could be used that way, but Mrs. Carlisle taught me differently. She showed me that the cane can be a welcome experience."
Tara couldn't believe what she was hearing. Had she misjudged Sydney, who seemed so mature and well-mannered and intelligent?
"I see you're skeptical," Sydney continued quickly. "Let me see if I can explain it better. First, set aside your prejudices against beating. Let's pretend it's another kind of punishment. Like... how about this. Have you ever denied yourself something as a punishment for something you did, such as breaking your diet with a slice of cake?"
"I have," Tara nodded. "When I was in college if I didn't study or did poorly on an exam, I would forbid myself from going to a movie or out on a date."
"Perfect. So you understand the principal of punishment."
"Of course. My problem isn't punishing the girls - I know they deserve it - it's the cane. I can't support the cane."
"But how is the cane any different? It's an unpleasant consequence. As long as it's voluntary, just like you denying yourself a break for a film, it teaches you that bad things will happen if you don't obey the rules."
"Sydney, I appreciate what you're saying. I'm sure that the cane is very effective - it would certainly make me behave - but I just can't agree with beating. There must be another way."
"Any other punishment would hurt the girls worse than the cane. Expulsion, loss of school credit, gating them for weeks or months - the cane is painful but quickly over and done, the matter resolved."
Tara had a sudden thought. "I suppose this is how you felt when Mrs. Carlisle first offered to thrash you with a cane?"
Sydney laughed. "No, you're right - I didn't like the idea at all. But I liked the alternatives even less. I finally agreed to take the caning."
"And how did it feel?"
"Silly, at first. Mrs. Carlisle was very formal about it. The ritual is important. She had me undress completely - the shame of nudity is part of the punishment, she told me. She then made me wait in the corner naked for fifteen minutes to think about what was going to happen and why. It was horrible, but it was also a life-changing experience. I remember thinking the whole time that I could just grab my clothes and walk out the door, that I didn't have to take the punishment. But I didn't do it. I stayed there and when it was time and she called me over for the cane and asked me if I still wanted to be beaten, I said that I did. I meant it, too. I think I realized then that I not only deserved it, but I needed it. That sounds strange, but I knew that if I wasn't soundly punished, I'd have regretted it for the rest of my life."
Sydney paused, then added, "I genuinely believe that Mrs. Carlisle saved my life that night, Mrs. Banks."
"Saved your life! How do you mean?"
"I was in a bad place. I was spoiled, and I was in with the wrong crowd. There were drugs and partying. I was on the fringes, not quite hard core yet, but if I had walked out of Wiltshire that day I am certain I would be dead by now, probably by an overdose or drunken car crash."
"I see. But the caning cured you?"
"It took more than one, but that first one started the process."
Tara's eyebrows rose. "Mrs. Carlisle caned you more than once?"
"Oh, many times! I was in here nearly weekly during my first year."
"But you're so well-behaved!"
Sydney smiled and nodded. "Now. I am now."
"I suppose the cane couldn't be so bad if you received it so often," the headmistress said softly, her resolve wavering.
"It left serious marks. Raised weals on my bottom."
"Yet you came back for more?"
"I did. There was something profoundly satisfying about being caned. It hurt terribly, but Mrs. Carlisle never made me feel wicked for needing to be punished. She acted as though it was normal, routine. That helped a surprising amount. I had enough guilt of my own. I didn't need more from her. The cane helped purge my own demons that haunted me, and slowly I became who I am today."
"That's remarkable."
"I understand why you'd think the cane was a bad thing, having never experienced it yourself. You may not have even been spanked as a child, but even if you were, the cane is nothing like that. You have to cooperate with the cane. You have to accept it. That's completely different from a spanking where it's forced upon you."
"You are right," said Tara. "I was never spanked as a child, at least that I can remember. But I did see my cousin spanked once and it seemed awful. She was screaming like she was being murdered and I thought the whole thing absolutely savage."
"A caning is nothing like that, Miss Banks. I can assure you."
For a moment the headmistress didn't speak, lost in thought. Then she sighed. "You are persuasive, Sydney. I can tell you really believe what you say. But... but even if I wanted to cane the girls, I don't have the faintest idea how to do it. I don't know how hard to strike or how many strokes to give or how the whole thing works."
"That's not a problem. I can help with that," Sydney said. Her blue eyes were bright. "What you need is a demonstration. Why don't you give me a caning?"
Tara's mouth literally fell open. "What! Are you mad?"
"Not at all. It's the obvious solution, isn't it? You need to see what a real caning is like. You need to practice so you'll be ready to cane the others. This solves both problems."
"But you haven't done anything wrong."
Sydney shrugged. "I haven't been caned in over a year. It would do me good."
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