by Mike London
About five years ago I was surprised to be telephoned by Mrs Webb, the principal of my daughter's school. She told me that Wendy, who was then fifteen years old and in her junior year, together with several other girls, had 'rioted' on a school coach and asked if I objected to her receiving a caning. Wendy's mother died many years ago and I have brought her up by myself. I did not answer the principal immediately. Wendy had never received a proper spanking in her life. However Mrs Webb told me that the only alternative was suspension which would certainly adversely affect her in the exams she was taking later that year. She said that all the other parents she had contacted so far had agreed. I asked for more details of the 'riot' and what exactly my daughter had done.
She told me that some girls, my daughter among them, had brought alcohol and cigarettes on to the coach. Subsequently fights had broken out. Bottles had actually been thrown through the coach windows on to the road. The driver had been terrified. All the girls on the coach were to be punished but only the ringleaders and those most involved in the fighting were to be caned. Wendy had admitted bringing four cans of lager on to the coach. Mrs Webb also said that if I agreed she would have no objection to allowing me to witness the canings so that I could see for myself that the punishments were not excessive. After some thought I gave my permission.
I left work early and drove to the school. I got there just before 3.34 pm and went to Mrs Webb's office. There were four or five mothers of other girls, some of whom I knew slightly, and one other man already there. After a few minutes two more women arrived. One was Mrs Roberts, the mother of Melanie, Wendy's best friend. Mrs Webb told us that the girls were waiting in the Hall and then went to a cupboard and selected two canes, both a little more than two-feet six-inches long. She told us that she was very sorry that she had to administer corporal punishment but that she couldn't help feeling that some of the blame was due with us, the parents, for not being strict enough with our daughters. She led the way to the Hall.
The girls were waiting lined up by one of the walls. I was surprised to see how many of them there were. Fifteen girls were standing there silently under the eye of a young and athletic looking teacher who, my daughter told me later, was Miss Baker, the gym mistress. Wendy looked terribly frightened and didn't look at me as we walked in. Two of the other girls particularly attracted my attention: a very pretty girl in full make up wearing a denim jacket and tight jeans, and a tall girl dressed almost like a punk, wearing a very short leather mini skirt. These two looked less like schoolgirls than young women. I saw the girls' already apprehensive faces go a shade paler as they saw the long, flexible canes quivering in the hands of their principal.
There were chairs lined up opposite the girls where we parents were directed to sit, and one isolated chair in the middle of the floor. Mrs Webb handed one cane to the gym mistress, and one of the girls began to cry quietly. Mrs Webb then gave the girls a good talking to. She announced that for such serious misbehaviour, damaging to the reputation of the school, no punishment except the cane was appropriate, and that each girl would receive four strokes. She concluded by saying that, contrary to the rules, most of the girls were not wearing school uniform, some despite warnings, and that these girls would receive additional strokes of the cane. I was pleased that Wendy had worn school uniform that day, she didn't always. I tried to catch her eye to give her a look of encouragement, but she was staring at her shoes and looked petrified.
Mrs Webb announced that the punishments would be carried out in alphabetical order of surnames, and after a pause the first girl walked slowly forward. It was Cathy, a girl in my daughter's class. She was a slender, attractive girl, whose face was framed by her long black hair. Mrs Webb told her to bend over the central chair facing the other girls, and she did so. She was wearing school uniform, and when she was bent over the chair Mrs Webb took hold of the hem of her grey school skirt and lifted it up, pinning it to the back of her blouse with a safety pin.
The principal laid her cane carefully across Cathy's blue panties and then raised it high. Taking careful aim she brought it down with a resounding thwack. Cathy squealed at the sudden stinging pain and her head jerked back sharply. She looked round with an expression of shock and disbelief on her face as if she could not believe that Mrs Webb had intended to hurt her that much. We saw her try to tense herself for the next stroke, but she could not prevent the wrigglings of her bottom as it awaited the next assault of the cane.
When the second stroke did come it was too much for poor Cathy. She leapt up and danced from one foot to the other with her hands pressed to her stinging bottom. She was weeping now and kept begging Mrs Webb over and over not to give her any more.
Mrs Webb beckoned to the gym mistress who came over to hold Cathy down for the remainder of her caning. Her cries fell on deaf ears and her desperate writhings could not save her buttocks from the two remaining punishing strokes. After the fourth stroke Mrs Webb unpinned her skirt and motioned to Miss Baker to let her go. Cathy remained standing in the centre of the Hall clasping her sore bottom with both hands. After a few moments, however, with everybody's eyes still fixed on her, she was ordered to go and stand by the wall, near the door, facing the wall. She hobbled across the room still sobbing and with one hand still held to the back of her skirt. Mrs Webb announced that if any other girls still needed to be held down as Cathy had been, they would receive an additional two strokes. They all deserved their punishments and now they had to take their medicine - and there wasn't time for all this mucking about.
Then it was the turn of Sheila, a delicately pretty little blonde, sixteen years old. Sheila had made the mistake of coming to school that day in a beige coloured blouse and a white skirt and therefore had to expect a more severe caning than the one which had reduced Cathy to tears. As she walked slowly towards the chair, her pretty face blushing red, I looked over to where Wendy was standing. Cathy's caning had obviously made an impression on her. She looked a picture of misery and was gnawing on her lower lip. Her hands were held to the seat of her skirt and she was trembling and fidgeting nervously. I felt very sorry for her, but I knew that this was a lesson that she'd been needing for some time. She told me afterwards that until she had seen the effect that the cane had on Cathy she hadn't realised just how serious a punishment a caning was.
Sheila bent over the chair. The outline of her buttocks and her panties were clearly revealed through the tight white skirt. Mrs Webb tried to raise the skirt, but it was too tight. Sheila had to stand up again, take the skirt off and then bend back down again.
Mrs Webb announced that Sheila would receive an additional two strokes for not wearing the school uniform. Then the punishment began. Sheila received the first stroke in silence. The second, landing on the same place low down on her bottom, wrung from her a stifled groan. Silent after the third, she yelled loudly at each of the last three cuts. Nevertheless she maintained a tight grip on the chair until Mrs Webb tapped her on the shoulder after the sixth stroke and told her to stand up and put her skirt back on. She had taken her punishment so well by comparison with Cathy that I wondered if she had ever been caned before. But Wendy told me later that she was not a particularly naughty girl and had never had the cane.
When she had got her skirt back on she stumbled over to stand next to Cathy and pressed her hands to her bottom. But she did not enjoy even this tiny relief for long. Mrs Webb angrily snapped out that on lining up all girls had to put their hands behind their necks.
The next girl to walk forward was Anna. Her extremely frightened appearance must in part have been due to the fact that she wore grey-blue trousers and a cotton top and, like Sheila, could expect no fewer than six searing cuts across her bottom. Mrs Webb gave way to the gym mistress who came forward to cane Anna. She seemed to cane with greater power than Mrs Webb and poor Anna shrieked and kicked her legs - so far as she could with her trousers around her knees - after every whack. After the fifth stroke she straightened, but immediately bent down again, so as not to earn the extra strokes. Miss Baker paused for a long time before the sixth stroke and we could all hear Anna's sobs. The poor girl couldn't keep still, but somehow she managed to stay bent over. When the cane finally landed, Anna yelled like a madwoman and leapt upright. Her trousers had been kicked off by now and she did a frantic war-dance of pain for about half a minute. Then Mrs Webb caught hold of her and got her to put her trousers back on before pushing her over to stand with the other caned girls.
Debbie was next. She was one of the two girls I had specially noticed at first. She was a strikingly pretty girl who, with her well-developed bust and tight denim jeans, looked more like a fashion model than a schoolgirl. In addition to her non-regulation clothing she also wore makeup and had painted nails - also strictly against the rules. All in all she looked nearer twenty than seventeen, except for the expression on her face. Wendy told me later that Debbie had a reputation as one of the naughtiest girls at the school and was one of four girls there that day who'd had the cane before. Mrs Webb indicated that she would deal with Debbie.
She reminded Debbie that she had been warned several times about school uniform and punished only the week before for wearing jeans. She had therefore decided that Debbie would receive four extra strokes - eight in all. She also said that if the punishments had been in private she would have taken Debbie's panties down for the caning and that she would do so if Debbie was ever sent to her again! She waited while Debbie wriggled out of her jeans and said, meaningfully, "I'm going to make sure that you won't forget this in a hurry, my girl!"
As Debbie bent over the chair she displayed a well-shaped, fully mature bottom, scantily clad in a pair of close fitting panties - white with pink flowers. Mrs Webb took hold of the girl's panties and pulled them up tight, revealing more and more pale pink flesh
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