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FIRE BEHIND

by Lucy Appleby


1. Fire Behind

Chelsea St John was from the posh end of town, and swanned around the corridors of Stonebridge Hall School for Girls as though she owned the place. Imperious, bossy, shallow, and fabulous looking, the eighteen-year-old took great pleasure in lording it over the younger girls in the school, plus a good many of her peers who found her rather intimidating. In fact, most of her classmates - even her sycophantic, suck-up cronies - thought it most unfair that such a dazzling beauty acted like a proper little bitch, giving out orders, and making endless selfish demands. What a stuck-up, bossy cow she was. The situation became intolerable once Chelsea was awarded the coveted Prefect's badge. She didn't deserve the honour, but her father was on the Board of School Governors and donated a sizeable sum every year towards school funds.

With her newly elevated status, Chelsea now had the right to apprehend pupils on school grounds if they had committed some infraction and order them to attend after school detention class. She was in her element, and in the process made herself even more unpopular.

There were two girls in the form below her that Chelsea didn't care for at all. Mary Cox and Dee Siddall were a pair of lively, intelligent girls, fun-loving yet hard working, and the best of friends. Both had long flowing blonde locks similar to Chelsea's silken tresses. They often wore their hair in a long tail, or sometimes a plait. Unlike Chelsea, their hair was naturally blonde, whereas Chelsea's very closely guarded secret was that her own stunning locks came from a bottle. Also, these two girls neither feared or respected her the way most of the younger girls did, a fact which annoyed Chelsea enormously. Which is why, on overhearing a conversation that they were off to the ice rink after school, she decided to sabotage their outing. An evil little plan hatched in her head and she smiled, well pleased with her own duplicity. She checked their timetable and discovered they would be in the school library for the last period of the day. Well, she would be waiting for them.

When the bell went at 4pm, the library doors opened and a stampede of girls exited, laughing and chattering. They clearly shared that Friday afternoon feeling and were looking forward to a weekend of freedom away from school.

"Hey - you two," Chelsea called out as Mary and Dee passed her in the library corridor. When they didn't react she raised her voice significantly. "Cox and Siddall - if you know what's good for you, have the courtesy to turn around and address me properly. I want a word with you."

"What's up, St John?" asked Dee, glancing over her shoulder.

"Yeah - what do you want with us, St John?" echoed Mary.

"It's Miss St John to you," snapped Chelsea. "Where are your manners?"

"Where are yours?" said Mary, trying hard to suppress a grin. "We are Miss Cox and Miss Siddall. Have you forgotten?"

"Don't be so impertinent," snapped Chelsea. Tossing back her blonde mane, she held out her hand, palm upwards, to reveal an empty crisp packet and chocolate wrapper. The two girls looked blank. Chelsea stepped forward and hissed, "You know the rules for dropping litter in the corridor. Detention, this afternoon. Both of you report to the detention room at once."

"What?! What for? We haven't done anything," said Dee.

"Don't you dare lie to me. I saw you drop this." Chelsea waved the chocolate wrapper in front of Dee's nose. "And you," she said, glaring at Mary, "dropped this one." She brandished the empty crisp packet.

"No, you didn't see us drop anything," said Mary. "Neither of us dropped any litter in the corridor. Those wrappers must be ones you picked up."

"Or left over from the stuff you pigged out on during break," said Dee, indignantly. "Look here, if we'd done anything wrong, we'd admit it, because that's how we are."

"She's right," agreed Mary. "If we mess up, we take responsibility for our actions."

"Oh you'll be taking responsibility all right." Chelsea's blue eyes glinted with malice. "Dropping litter. Arguing with a prefect. Refusing to go to detention, and..." A new idea shot into Chelsea's mind. "...and hitting me. That's assault."

"What the heck are you talking about?"

"Hitting you? As if!" said Dee, very much wishing she could act on such a tempting thought and punch the bossy little madam on the nose.

"I'm taking you to Headmistress Greyling," said Chelsea, grabbing an upper arm of each girl as she forcibly dragged them along the corridor. It pleased her that the two made such an awful fuss, because at this busy time there were lots of witnesses to hear how the pair of them carried on, yelling and arguing and trying to break free.

A few moments later the three of them had reached the office of Miss Greyling. She was relatively new to the post, and in a short time had made an impact; she was feared by the girls, including Dee and Mary, who both had a horrible feeling that the headmistress would cane them, even if they were innocent.

They were right.

"What is the meaning of this frightful din?" demanded Miss Greyling flinging open her door. "I could hear your bleating from the other end of the corridor. Miss St John, kindly explain to me what is going on."

"Certainly, Miss Greyling," began Chelsea. "These two girls are Mary Cox and Dee Siddall. Not only did I catch them in the act of wilfully throwing litter in the library corridor, they then denied it and called me a liar. They argued, and raised their voices, and then when no one was looking, they shoved me up against the wall and punched me in the stomach!"

"What?!" Miss Greyling's face went white with anger.

"They hurt me so much," whimpered Chelsea, fake tears beginning to leak from her pretty blue eyes. "I asked them not to, but they kept on punching me."

"You poor child. Come into my office and take a seat while I deal with these two." Miss Greyling directed her baleful gaze at the two fifth formers. "How DARE you behave in such a manner. OUTRAGEOUS behaviour! I'm ashamed to have girls like you in my school."

"But Miss Greyling-"

"But we didn't-"

"SILENCE," ordered the angry headmistress, ushering Mary and Dee into her office. "Never in all my years have I heard of such unprovoked, violent, behaviour. I will not tolerate it in my school." Her eyes narrowed. Though she was not yet familiar with all the girls in the school, she did recall that these two were not classed as troublemakers. Walking over to her desk, she scanned the entries in the punishment book. There were no entries for Mary Cox and Dee Siddall. However, she was angry. Very angry. "It is only because of your previous good behaviour that I don't expel you on the spot. However, you will be punished, and punished severely for your actions-"

"Please, Miss Greyling, we haven't done anything. Chelsea is lying," said Dee.

"It's true. She's made the whole thing up!" said Mary, directing a glance at Chelsea who grinned back at her, clearly enjoying herself.

Chelsea's expression changed in an instant as she squeezed out fresh tears to trickle down her perfect face. "I would never do such a thing, Miss Greyling," she sniffed.

"I am quite sure you would not, Chelsea my dear. You may remain while I cane these two."

Chelsea hid a triumphant smile as Mary and Dee looked at one another, their fear obvious.

"You will lower your knickers and raise your skirts," said Miss Greyling in icy tones. "Then you will both bend over my desk. You will each receive twelve strokes with the senior cane on your bare bottom."

The girls were horrified. Twelve strokes? And with the senior cane? Usually, girls got only two or three strokes, six on rare occasions for the most dreadful of crimes. Both Dee and Mary knew it was pointless trying to argue. Dejectedly they obeyed, and bent, bare-bottomed and shamed, over Miss Greyling's desk. At least they would be going through this unfair ordeal together. Mary's left hand grasped Dee's right hand and squeezed it.

If the headmistress noticed, she paid it no heed. But Chelsea noticed the gesture and a wave of emotion washed over her. She was jealous of the loyal friendship these two shared. It simply wasn't fair - why weren't her friends like that? She wasn't particularly close with anyone, and knew full well that she wasn't well liked. She just chose to ignore it and pretend otherwise, just as she now refused to acknowledge her own reprehensible behaviour which was about to result in the application of corporal punishment on two blameless girls. On the contrary, she gloated at the two bare bottoms knowing she would derive pleasure from watching them being punished.

There was no preamble from Miss Greyling. Selecting a cruel-looking cane from the rack in the cupboard, she slashed it through the air. Chelsea hid a smile at the reaction of Dee and Molly as both girls flinched, and Molly's legs began to tremble. Miss Greyling strode forward and took up position behind Dee. She raised her right arm, and brought the cane down sharply across the lower portion of the girl's bottom.

Dee had been holding her breath, determined not to yell, but her resolve evaporated once the rattan made contact with her bare bottom and a streak of fire blazed across her rear end. A peculiar strangled sound of pain emerged from the back of her throat. Before she had time to process the pain fully, a second slash of torment descended. This time, Dee cried out piteously, kicking up her right foot as the jolt of raw, burning pain surged through her, the aftermath escalating the pain to a whole new level. How could she possibly endure more of this? Her legs trembled as though they were made of jelly, and the fingers of her left hand that clutched the end of the desk turned white. The fingers of her right hand trembled as they clutched Mary's hand as though her life depended on it.

Mary, who had turned her head to look anxiously at her friend, wasn't prepared for the searing pain that suddenly erupted across her own hide. She squealed loudly and almost raised herself up from the desk. Only the squeeze of Dee's hand prevented her from doing so, which was just as well, as Miss Greyling always gave extras for breaking position. She braced herself for the next stroke, and when it came, it was even more painful than the first. Tears prickled and trickled down her face as she wailed out her hurt and anger at the injustice.

"AAAAAOOOWWW!" she yelled as the cane cut in again, bringing with it a wave of red fire that raged through her backside. She squirmed and panted out her anguish. She stamped her feet and squealed, feeling as though she was being cut in half with each slash of the wretched cane.

And so it continued, with the headmistress doling out two strokes at a time, moving from one bottom to the other. Such pale, pristine white bottoms they were to begin with, but as the caning continued and the howls and cries grew louder, those bottoms were suffused in a motley pink, slashed through with lines of vivid red.

A particularly vicious stroke resulted in a blood curdling yell from Dee. She stamped her feet and whimpered pitifully, and much to Chelsea's amusement, gyrated her bottom from side to side, shaking her cheeks in a futile attempt to shake the hurt away.



© Lucy Appleby
Not to be reposted, reproduced or distributed, in part or whole.