A Small Town Girl
21 minutes ago
That was a juicy read, and the spanking hasn't even begun! You'll have to wait until next week for that, I'm afraid.
Lucy made her way out of the building and round to the stables at the back. She had spotted a cycle there when she and the other girls had been arranging Juliette's encounter with Mr Parry-Jones and subsequently observed that it belonged to one of the domestic staff. Swiftly she took a quick glance around her to ensure that no member of staff was in the vicinity, then mounted the bike and set off down the drive.
The ride into the village took about ten minutes, and Lucy did not see anyone on the way, for which she was grateful, although the very fact that she had broken bounds and taken the cycle without permission was probably enough to at least partly fulfil her self-appointed mission. However, she had grander ideas in mind. One of the first shops which she came to as she entered the main street of the village was a small general store.
Lucy dismounted and went in. The middle-aged woman behind the counter eyed her suspiciously. Lucy was wearing the standard Carstairs uniform of a shortish pleated skirt and plain white blouse covered by a blue cardigan and the woman knew full well that the girls from Carstairs were not normally allowed into the village unaccompanied. She said nothing but watched as Lucy cast an eye around the shop.
"Excuse me, but do you sell spirits?" Lucy's question seemed to throw the woman off balance for a moment.
"Er, yes we do, but we don't have much of a range; just a whisky or two and some cherry brandy". She gestured at a shelf behind the till counter.
"The cherry brandy will do fine, thank you. I'll take it." Lucy thanked her lucky stars that she had thought to hide her credit card about her person when she was first inducted into Carstairs. Miss Parkin had made a big thing about locking all her cash and the few little trinkets of jewellery she had arrived with in the big safe in the general office.
As she left the store clutching her purchase, she could feel the eyes of the woman boring into her back and it was not a pleasant sensation. It was clear that the shopkeeper did not think much of young ladies from Carstairs - and especially those who bought liquor at that time of the morning. However it all fitted neatly into her plan; she knew what had to be done. It was a good job the shop had cherry brandy in stock, it was just about bearable. Lucy hated whisky. Unscrewing the top of the bottle, she took a generous swig before mounting the bike and continuing down the main street.
The sweet fire of the spirit burned her throat and she took another swig, the bike wobbling perilously as she did so. Careful, girl, she thought to herself. The brandy was good for a bit of Dutch courage and would no doubt be a useful anaesthetic later, but it wouldn't do to have a road accident before her plans were completed.
"Damn Sebastian!" The two quick swigs had been enough to make her head swim and she almost missed the policeman who stepped out in front of her wobbling cycle. Almost, but not quite. She hit him fair and square and the cycle, rider and policeman all collapsed in a whirl of arms and legs in the middle of the road. The incriminating evidence of the brandy bottle shattered on the tarmac, spraying spirit over both Lucy and the policeman.
In no time at all, Lucy found herself being booked in at the village police station. Under the glare of the burly desk sergeant she wrote her name on the form which he pushed under her nose. She saw his eyebrows rise as she wrote 'Carstairs' as her address and, in a fit of bravado, 'Temporary' after it. She gave her age as nineteen.
After a brief discussion, they put Lucy into a cell and left her alone, to sober up, as the sergeant put it. She wasn't really drunk, just a bit thick in the head. It took a little while for the enormity of what she had done to sink in, but with only the silence of her own company in the cell, her thought processes soon cleared. She realised that her daring plan had worked to absolute perfection. It was entirely up to her now; there was no going back. She gulped.
Is this really what it feels like? the voice in her head whispered. Is this the real thing? Is this the gut tightening fear you get? Swiftly, she answered her own question. This is as real as it gets.
The voices in her head kept up a cross-talk for quite a while and Lucy could feel the tension in her body both feeding and being fed by, the conversation. After what seemed like hours, the door of her cell opened and the sergeant beckoned to her. "Come along now, young lady, if you please."
"Why? What happens now?" Lucy asked nervously.
"Well, we have been on the telephone to the authorities at your establishment - a Miss Parkin, to be precise. She knows where you are and the circumstances and someone will be along for you directly. But before that, you have to make a little trip - not far - just into the next building."
Lucy got up from her seat, trembling slightly. "What is there? Why do I have to go there?"
"There is a small matter of being under the influence while in charge of a bicycle on the highway to account for, my girl. I dare say that Miss Parkin will have something to say to you later, but right now you have an appointment with the local magistrate. I suggest you don't keep him waiting, if you don't want to make things worse than they already are!"
Meekly, Lucy allowed herself to be taken to the front office of the police station, where the constable she had knocked down was waiting with a woman police constable. The two additional officers formed up behind Lucy and the sergeant led the quartet across the front yard of the station to the adjacent building, which Lucy now realised was the court house. Once inside, they went directly into the courtroom.
The proceedings were brief and to the point. Lucy had no cause for complaint, since she had engineered the whole scenario, but even she was taken aback by their speed and efficiency. The officer she had knocked down, whose name was given as PC George Biggs, gave evidence to the effect that he had been proceeding about his duties when he had observed an erratically ridden bicycle. When he had attempted to arrest its progress, he had been knocked to the ground, but had been able to apprehend the culprit, who now stood before the court. Further evidence concerning Lucy's purchase of the cherry brandy was given with some relish by the stony-faced shopkeeper.
The magistrate, a tweedy old man who brayed rather than spoke, asked Lucy if she had anything to say about the evidence that had been given. Shyly, Lucy said she had not.
The magistrate cleared his throat noisily. "Seems that we have a pretty open and shut case here." The word came out as 'hyaw' and sounded as if he still thought he was addressing troops on a parade ground. "Disgraceful behaviour in one so young. You need a short sharp shock to bring you to your senses. Stand up straight when I'm speaking to you."
The woman constable nudged Lucy sharply in the back and she straightened up. The magistrate was glaring directly at her. "Two offences - drunk in a public place and drunk in charge of a bicycle on a public highway. Very serious. Could have caused a serious accident. Innocent people hurt, that sort of thing. Understand what I'm saying? What?"
Lucy did, in fact, find it quite difficult to understand the staccato form of speech with its abbreviated sentences and drawled vowels but she was getting the general drift of it. Here it comes, she thought to herself. "Please, sir, I'm very sorry, sir." She put on her best little girl voice.
"Sorry's not good enough. As I say, two offences, both serious. Only one course of action, my girl. Do you a lot of good in the long run, you'll see. Young Offenders Act applies in this case. Best legislation for a very long time." There was a pause as he glared at Lucy as if challenging her to disagree. When she made no sound he snorted and pronounced, "Six strokes of the cane to be applied to your bare buttocks as prescribed within the law. That is, six strokes for each offence. Take her down."
As soon as the magistrate had finished speaking, Lucy felt a hand on her shoulder. "Come on now,miss." The sergeant's voice was gentle but firm. "Let's get it over with. We don't want any trouble now, do we?"
"I wasn't going to make any trouble," Lucy was too shocked to even consider making trouble. She had wanted to be sentenced - knew she would be - but now the sentence was pronounced it was double what she had anticipated and she began to wonder if she had made a dreadful mistake. The familiar electric shocks began to pulse through her body.
"Very sensible, miss, if I may say so." The sergeant's tone was almost laughably respectful, given that Lucy was completely in his power and headed for a humiliating experience. "Now just hold out your hands in front of you, hands together if you please." He could have been giving her directions to the local post office, so measured were his words.
Lucy did as she was told and immediately wished that she had not. With a speed which belied his appearance, the policeman produced a pair of steel handcuffs from his back pocket and snapped them over her wrists.
Thus restrained, she was taken from the court room. The small procession, headed by the male constable, then Lucy, followed in turn by the female constable and the sergeant, trooped through the court house to a large room at the back of the building.
Lucy guessed that in the days when the building had been a private house, the room they were in might have been a games room. It was certainly big enough to have held a full sized snooker table. Screwed to the back wall of the room was an ornate scoring pointer above a rack which had clearly been designed to hold snooker cues. The room was devoid of any furniture except for a wooden stool, less than a foot high and completely untrimmed, and a small, plain desk.
Lucy's gaze was drawn to the rack and her heart sank. Instead of snooker cues, the rack now held two canes. They were a matched pair, each one equally vicious, about three and a half feet long and considerably heavier-looking than the one which Miss Williams had been so proud of.
Lucy tried to gather all the mental strength she could. She knew she would need to draw on all her reserves for the coming ordeal. Although this was a totally different environment to the coldly impersonal surroundings of the big police station where she had so recently watched Juliette's introduction to the corrective effects of corporal punishment administered to her bare bottom, she had no doubt this more traditional approach was going to be just as memorable.
The sergeant's voice broke into her thoughts. "Now I hope you are going to be sensible. I know this is going to be quite an unpleasant experience for you, but the law is the law when all is said and done." Lucy stared at him, her eyes wide.
"This is how we are going to do things," the sergeant continued. " I want you to stand on this small stool, nice and quiet, and put your arms over the shoulders of Constable Biggs here." He pointed at the male constable. "Constable Sims," he indicated the policewoman," will make the required adjustments to your clothing. I shall ask Constable Biggs to hold you steady while I deliver the lawful punishment. Any questions?"
"No." Lucy was hoping that her voice didn't let her down.
"Very well, step onto the stool, if you please."
Feeling as if she was being led to the scaffold, Lucy allowed the policewoman to guide her to the stool. The grip on her arm as she stepped up gave no hint of sympathy. Constable Biggs stood in front of her, his back to her. She had been curious as to his role in the proceedings, but just as Constable Sims repeated the sergeant's instruction to put her hands over the policeman's head, Lucy realised what was going to happen.
Raised up on the stool, she stood with her shoulders a little higher than those of the constable. As soon as she put her hands, still manacled together, over the policeman's head, he took hold of her arms and pulled them tightly down across his chest, drawing Lucy closer to him.
Constable Sims took hold of the hem of Lucy's skirt, hoisting it high. Lucy felt a pressure on her back for a moment and guessed, when she saw the policewoman replace a reel of masking tape on the desktop, that her skirt had been taped to her upper body, exposing her rear from the waist down.
"OK, George, hoist her up." Constable Sims spoke for the first time since leaving the court room.
Constable Biggs bent at the waist, leaning forward and taking Lucy with him. Lucy let out a little yelp of surprise as her feet were lifted clear of the stool. She was completely off-balance, her full weight borne by the burly officer. The curve of his back pushed her bottom outwards; her legs kicked helplessly several inches off the stool. Lucy felt the policewoman's hands on her hips and soon her panties began their familiar journey, down over her hips, across her thighs, past her knees and then right off over her ankles.
However familiar the experience was becoming since she had been at Carstairs, Lucy still hated the idea of her bottom being completely bared before a group of complete strangers, and particularly men. The humiliation of it still made her feel worse than the knowledge of the punishment to follow and she could feel her face flaming red with the shame of it.
The sergeant had been waiting whilst Lucy was positioned, standing close to the wall rack. With an air of resignation, he selected the cane from the lower of the two shelves and changed places with Constable Sims. Lucy looked over her shoulder and took in the fact that the sergeant had also slipped off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. His exposed forearms were thick and muscular, covered in a mass of dark hairs. The cane arched into a perfect curve, flexed menacingly between the sergeant's two large hands.
"Face the front, miss, if you please." His voice was firm but not unkind. Reluctantly Lucy turned and looked at Constable Sims, trying not to think of the burly sergeant behind her who was no doubt studying the vulnerable curves of her naked bottom. It crossed her mind that to receive a spanking from such massive, leathery hands would be a memorable event. How much worse was it going to be to take a caning from him? Lucy clenched her buttocks involuntarily at the prospect of her impending ordeal.
Wendy Williams had never met the Governor, so she felt quite honoured when he appeared in the gymnasium alone and announced that he wanted to inspect the establishment with her as his guide. He was very charming , but Wendy was aware that both the Principal and Angela Parkin held him in considerable respect. This could only mean that he was a man with a powerful, even dominant, character. Anything less would not have impressed her two employers. However this side of his personality remained hidden for much of their tour around Carstairs. He was polite and attentive to her explanations as she pointed out the various rooms and gave brief character sketches of any of the girls whom they saw as they progressed around the building.Some people will do anything to get ahead! I wonder if Miss Parkin will feel the same way.
Despite her efforts, Wendy sensed that he was not totally focused on what she was saying. Once she turned towards him unexpectedly and was surprised to see that his gaze was more on her than on the subject she was explaining. His penetrating stare bored directly into her and she felt as though she was being measured against some unknown criterion. The thought made the hairs on the back of her neck prickle.
When they returned to the gymnasium, Wendy was especially enthusiastic, as this was her own domain. "I think it is very important that we keep the girls fit during their stay here," she enthused.
Oh, I agree," he said. The tone of his voice did not match his apparent interest. "Tell me, Miss Williams, do you enjoy your work here?"
Yes, very much." Wendy was surprised at the question.
"I mean the disciplinary aspects, as well as the educational."
Wendy noted a change in his tone and began to understand. "Yes, I must admit, that too." She smiled. "I do enjoy seeing these young ladies submit to my discipline from time to time. Of course," she added hastily, "it is always for their own good, and I think they realise that. Quite a lot of them actually thank me for their lesson, even after I have given them a really sound thrashing."
"Yes, I heard about that." He seemed more interested now than at any time during the tour. Perhaps that's what he really wants to hear about, mused Wendy to herself.
"I believe there has been some, shall we say, animosity between some of the girls?"
"Yes, that's true, although I doubt it was anything very serious. However it was becoming disruptive to the rest of the class, so when two of the girls actually began to fight I acted very firmly to stamp it out."
"Yes, I am afraid I deemed it necessary to go beyond the usual spankings that suffice for minor discipline here at Carstairs and used the cane."
"I see. Tell me more." As they had been talking, they had slowly been walking back towards Wendy's office. She opened the door and stood back so that he could see inside.
"There's not much to tell really. I thought that one of the girls, Juliette, was being victimised by some of her classmates, so although both girls were caned I gave Juliette a little help to even things up."
"How did you do that?"
"First of all, I got her to walk the length of the gym, knowing all her classmates would be watching her, to fetch the cane from this office." Wendy stepped into the room and opened the cupboard, displaying the row of canes, exactly as Juliette had first seen them. "I allowed her to choose the cane herself. I felt that having to make that choice would heighten her anticipation of what was to come. The other girl, Joanna, was kept waiting while this was going on, and I could see she was almost wetting herself at the prospect in front of her."
Wendy picked out the same cane that Juliette had selected and handed it to Sebastian, who fingered its smooth length appreciatively.
"Then I complimented Juliette on her choice, to put her at ease a little. I didn't want to frighten her altogether. I showed the two of them how beautifully flexible and whippy that particular cane is. It's one of my favourites , and I don't get the chance to use it all that much."
Sebastian flexed the cane in just the same way that Wendy had done in front of the two girls. Suddenly Wendy shivered; had she in fact overdone the build-up to the caning and been too cruel?
"Yes, it is very pliant, I see." The rod cut through the air with a wicked swish.
Wendy gulped nervously and continued. "I bent Juliette over one of the running track hurdles which we had brought into the gym for just that purpose, and gave her six strokes on the bare, which she fully deserved. She had never been caned before, so I made her think she was getting the very best stripes I could deliver - although in fact I didn't whack her all that hard. You don't really need to use that much force with that particular cane, it's so pliant."
"I see - or rather I don't. I thought you were evening things up between the two girls
"Ah yes, but while this was going on, Joanna was watching and taking it all in. She knew what was coming to her and had plenty of time to think about it - and that's when I sprang my little surprise. I let Juliette administer Joanna's punishment herself. I was careful to see that she did not overdo it - just a light sting across the bottom half a dozen times. Joanna certainly felt them though." She smiled, trying to judge what Sebastian was thinking.
"How was that?" His voice was silky smooth, but Wendy still felt uneasy.
"I think she was play acting, making a lot of 'oohs' and 'aaah' noises which were not really justified for the strength of the caning she received. It was almost as if she was enjoying it."
"From what you say, perhaps she was. How did this affect Juliette?"
"I don't think that she realised that Joanna was playing up, but she seemed to enjoy the experience as well."
"Hmmm; that was, perhaps, an error of judgement on your part."
The bald statement startled Wendy. After all, who was this man to criticise her work, whatever his connections? His next sentence startled her even more.
"You may be wondering why I am asking these questions. There is a reason, which I will come to in a moment." Again the cane swished through the air. "One last question; have you yourself ever been made to submit to corporal punishment?"
Wendy felt a cold shiver run down her spine. It was a secret between her and Angela, which no one else at Carstairs knew, yet somehow she felt compelled to tell this stranger. "I- er - that is to say, yes. Angela - that's Miss Parkin - she, er, well, when I took on the job here, she made it a condition of my employment that if she was displeased with my performance it was either that or the sack."
"So? Have you ever displeased her?"
"Only once, and I got ten strokes of the tawse for it. She likes the tawse, does Angela."
"And did you enjoy the tawse?"
"Not the actual tawse itself. It stung a lot, and it was my first time and I was a bit frightened, but afterwards Angela made it up to me in other ways." Wendy was beetroot red by now. Somehow this man had the power to read her mind and make her admit things she would normally never have done.
"Wendy, you have been very frank with me." Sebastian put down the cane, to Wendy's great relief. It had seemed so threatening in his hand. "So I will be frank with you. I would like to offer you a promotion, a place in a little project I am organising. I have spoken to both Angela and Elspeth, and they have recommended you most highly. We are going to expand our operations here at Carstairs and I want you to take on extra responsibilities. There will, of course, be a substantial pay rise in it for you."
To say that she was amazed would be a gross understatement. To have such an offer was totally unexpected. Wendy felt almost foolish at harbouring suspicions about the strange questions she had been asked. "I don't know what to say. Thank you."
Sebastian paused, then, "There are, however, some issues which need to be resolved first."
Wendy's rapidly rising spirits took an instant nose-dive.
"Firstly, if you are to have time to take on the new duties I have in mind, you will need an assistant."
Again the relief was almost a physical wave washing over her. Why was it that she dreaded every new sentence the Governor uttered? Was it because she was suffering from a guilty conscience?
"You may be aware that Juliette, of whom you spoke a moment or two ago, came to Carstairs in slightly unusual circumstances?"
Wendy nodded, puzzled.
"I can tell you now that she is a distant relative of Elspeth's and in need of some direction to help her find her place in life. I don't mean the sort of direction she might receive here as a pupil. No what we - that is, Elspeth and myself - feel she needs is a job. Something which will occupy her and yet still allow her to be guided when guidance is needed."
Wendy began to see a glimmer of light in this so far obscure conversation.
"What we intend is that Juliette should cease to be a pupil, with effect from next week, and join the staff at Carstairs as your assistant."
Wendy's heart leapt. This was simply too good to be true.
"Before this can take effect, however," Sebastian continued, "there is one other matter to resolve."
Wendy looked into his eyes and again felt the shiver of fearful anticipation.
"If you are to be successful in this job, I need to know you can be completely obedient. There will be plenty of opportunity for you to express your own will and personality, but in your dealings with me, I need to be sure that you recognise that I am the master. You have already admitted that you erred slightly and have perhaps been a little selfish in your dealings with the girls , particularly with Juliette. Angela and Elspeth are aware of this too, and we have decided that perhaps a little corrective action is indicated."
"I-I don't understand," Wendy felt a knot in her stomach. She was playing for time.
"Oh I think you do. If you want this promotion and the perks that go with it, you must show yourself worthy and it must be entirely your choice. Do you accept?"
Wendy knew that this could only end one way and only the detail was unknown to her. Suddenly she was overwhelmed by a terrific sexual excitement. In for a penny, in for a pound. "Very well, I accept," she said. "What do I have to do?"
"Just give me your total obedience and I will do the rest."
Before she had time to think, he moved swiftly behind her. His right arm came round her body and grasped her right wrist, and her arm was twisted behind her back. He didn't hurt her, but the sudden action startled her and her natural reaction was to struggle, but he was too strong for her.
"Easy, now," His mouth was close to her ear, his voice no more than a whisper. "I am just going to restrain you temporarily." Retaining his grip on her right wrist, he encircled her body with his other hand and pulled her left arm back. Soon both her wrists were held in one firm grip, her hands crossed behind her. She felt him fumbling in a pocket with his free hand.
"These ties are very convenient. Electricians use them, so they are readily obtainable, very cheap and very secure." As he spoke she felt a thin plastic band encircle both her thumbs and draw tight. She tried to pull her hands apart, but could not. She was tied just as effectively as if he had used a yard of cord.
"Now, out into the gym, I think." Firmly but not unduly roughly, he pushed her out of the office and into the main gymnasium hall. Keeping a firm grip on one shoulder, he looked around and swiftly spotted what he needed. "Ah yes, the traditional gymnastic vaulting horse. How very convenient."
Wendy, with a sinking heart, allowed herself to be pushed across the room towards the horse. She was beginning to realise how Juliette and Joanna must have felt and her bottom was beginning to feel rather vulnerable already.
"Over you go!" He manoeuvred Wendy to face down the length of the horse.
Obediently, Wendy bent at the waist and allowed her stomach and chest to rest on the broad leather of the horse. Her torso and legs formed a rigid right angle.
"That's not quite right, but I do see your difficulty." He sounded cheerful. Now his hands were at her waist and, with one quick tug, her track-suit trousers and her panties were down below her knees. "I am going to take these right off, I think. Lift your leg, that's right. Now the other one." Wendy had no option but to obey as he completed stripping her lower half. The cool air wafted around her exposed legs and rear and suddenly there was an exciting tingle in her groin.
"You have been very good on the obedience test so far," he said, conversationally, as he slipped the belt out of his own trousers and used it to secure Wendy tightly to the horse. "There is still time to back out, if you wish - or shall we move on to the corrective action?"
Wendy tried, not very successfully, to turn her head to look at him and settled for shaking it.
"Does that mean you don't want to proceed? I am disappointed in you, Wendy."
"No, I mean yes! Just cane me, please - now. Cane me and get it over with."
His voice was amused. "Cane you, eh? So you really think you deserve a caning, not just a hand-spanking?" His hand was on her bottom, stroking it, then down to the tops of her legs. Wendy realised that she had committed herself; it was true that Sebastian had not mentioned the cane. She had just made the assumption.
"I won't tease you." He laughed and slapped her bottom gently. "I think a caning is just what you need. "
His footsteps retreated as he left Wendy draped helplessly over the horse. Her bottom retained the feel of his hand where he had slapped her and all sorts of interesting sensations were now pulsing round her body. She recalled how it had stung when Angela had given her a taste of the tawse, but she had an uneasy feeling that this was going to be much worse, and she could hardly ask Sebastian to apply a cold cream as Angela had done after disciplining her the last time.
She squirmed helplessly on the smooth leather of the horse, feeling the dampness seeping between her legs. Her body wanted it, wanted him, and so did her mind. She could hear footsteps; he was coming back. Which one had he chosen? Please God, not the thick heavy one; that would raise weals an inch high and bruise her black and blue. She had enjoyed seeing the bottoms of the girls under her control squirm and wriggle as she had carefully, almost lovingly, striped them. Joanna had a particularly pert little bottom, almost boyish in the way it jutted as she stood up, but it had marked very neatly as Juliette had followed her instructions. Wendy guessed that her own cheeks were probably more like Juliette's fuller curves, more feminine perhaps, and a broader target for the cane to curl around.
"You may be pleased to know I chose your favourite." Sebastian moved into Wendy's field of vision so that she could see the cane as he flexed it, testing the spring. "This cane needs oiling, I think. I saw that you had a bottle of linseed oil in your cupboard so I've brought it along."
Wendy smelt the pungent oil as he splashed some on a rag and wiped it into the wood. "You haven't changed your mind, I hope? I can see you have been thinking about it from the way your bottom was wriggling as I was walking across the gym."
"No." The excitement made Wendy almost shout. "Just tell me, how many must I take? Then please get on with it. Please don't tease me any more."
"I am gratified that you are so eager. Well now, let's see. An error of judgement; that's worth six on its own. Then there is your selfishness, not considering other peoples pleasure as well as your own. Six more seems fair for that as well, I think. Then perhaps another six, maybe after a short rest, just to let the lesson sink in?"
"Eighteen? Oh, dear God, I can't take eighteen. Please I don't deserve that many; please I don't."
"Well," his voice was doubtful," you do really, you know, and I shouldn't start this project any way other than I mean it to go on. But then you have never been caned by me before, so I suppose if I make them real stingers, with absolutely no mercy, and let you off with a dozen, you won't feel that I have let you off so lightly."
Wendy didn't know whether to be grateful at the reduction or horrified at the thought of her hitherto unmarked bottom with twelve burning hot stripes across it. "Please," she almost begged, "I never give the girls more than six, and sometimes I worry that I have hurt them terribly."
"No arguments, twelve it is going to be, and real good ones too. I shall want you to count them out loud after each one." He laid the cane across Wendy's upturned rear. "No time like the present! Shall we begin?"
Gritting her teeth, Wendy nodded her head.
The caning was slow and thorough. Despite his threat, Sebastian did not use anything like his full strength. The natural whippiness of the cane was more than sufficient to ensure that each stroke landed with real stinging force. He took his time, waiting fully thirty seconds between each stroke to ensure that she could feel each separate, wonderful, individual stripe.
Sebastian was clever; he did not lay the stripes in a regular sequence, but moved them around randomly so that Wendy never knew where the next one would fall. Every single stroke was both agony and ecstasy, and Wendy writhed and howled in her passion. As each crisp sting added to the fire in her rear, she ground her pubis harder and harder into the rough top of the horse. Although she started to count as she had been instructed, by the time the count passed six she was past caring.
Sebastian made no comment, but seeing his victim lost in the throes of the experience, he allowed the score to rise to the eighteen he had originally awarded.
When at last he was done, Wendy slumped and her knees sagged. Only Sebastian's belt securing her to the horse prevented her slipping to the ground. After a moment or two, she felt his hand on her rear. Although he was gentle, she still flinched as he ran his hand across the fiery weals which criss-crossed her bottom. As the blood gradually pounded a little less loudly in her ears and she became more aware of what was happening, she realised that his hand was slippery with something cool and oily. As his fingers spread the substance across her aching posterior, her nostrils twitched at the scent.
"An arse like yours is worthy of more than just a caning," he whispered in her ear. Wendy made a soft mewling noise in response; she was awash with excitement and sensation and could manage nothing more.
"If you work for me, then I decide what you deserve. Is that understood?"
The words seemed stuck in her throat. Her bottom was on fire and she felt faint.
"Say. 'Yes Master'"
"Yes, Master," she repeated obediently, the effort almost more than she could bear.
"Do you still want that job? With all that it entails?" His voice allowed no argument.
"Oh yes Master." There was no hesitation.
As the middle of her fourth week at Carstairs arrived, Lucy sat at her desk and began to review the draft of her thesis. She was running out of time, she knew. Her spell at Carstairs was drawing to a close and she was determined that whatever the trials and tribulations she had endured, at least it would not be time totally wasted. She would show Sebastian. Despite his trick on her, she was not to be put down so easily.
The thesis really was getting to be quite an impressive document, she thought. With the new material she had gathered recently, she could see her way to drawing some conclusions. It was fascinating to see how the relationship between Juliette and Wendy Williams had turned out, and she knew that somehow she would have to work this into her dissertation, together with the assumptions she was making about Juliette's apparent relish for using the cane. Poor Juliette! She had found it so hard to adjust to Carstairs and it had taken the combined efforts of all the girls to convince her that taking a spanking was not the end of the world. Lucy blushed to herself at the subterfuge they had resorted to in order to convince Juliette that she was fully accepted.
As Lucy read and re-read the document, her original sense of satisfaction began to fade. Something was missing; it lacked that last deft touch, that vital spark necessary to lift the words off the pages and make them live. She knew exactly what Sebastian would say when he read it and for some reason she couldn't quite fathom, it was suddenly very important to her that Sebastian was pleased with her work.
Carefully, Lucy tried to analyse what it was she knew should be there, yet could not quite put her finger on. She had dealt with the circumstances which led up to Juliette's first formal strapping. That section read quite well, she thought. She had captured the sense of drama, the coldness, the impersonality of the procedure and the location in that drab police station. The foreboding which the waiting miscreants must have felt, the sense of inevitability, came over as well. Then the drama of the actual punishments and her own feelings at the sight of the lovely Juliette being secured to the table. She had covered that part of the thesis well, drawing out the fact that it was the ceremony and the anticipation that made things so effective.
That came over well in the rest of the work, too. Each of the more memorable punishments which Lucy had described and analysed had its own little script, its build-up and climax. She thought of her own experience on that first day. The scene with Miss Edwardes had got Lucy's adrenalin flowing and had prepared her, in an odd sort of way, so that the belting which Miss Parkin had added to her already rosy cheeks had not seemed in any way excessive. Her perception of reality had been so shifted by the humiliation of being publicly spanked by Miss Edwardes that her interview with Miss Parkin had really been no less than she had expected.
That was it! Lucy re-read the relevant pages again. She suddenly knew what was missing; just as surely she knew what she must do to correct the omission. As the knowledge registered, it was as if her whole body had been connected to the mains. The hair on the back of her neck prickled and her stomach turned somersaults. Could she do it? Would she have the nerve? Nevertheless, it was the only way. She steeled her nerves and began to work on the details.
The following morning, Lucy almost overslept and only just made it to the restaurant before breakfast closed. Feeling like death after a night of restless sleep, broken by vivid nightmares, she loaded her tray with whatever came to hand and joined the small group that she had come to think of as friends. They were all gathered around a typed notice pinned to the door of the restaurant.
"You don't want to be late for any classes today, of all days." Karen looked seriously concerned as she gestured at the notice.
"Why, what's the matter?"
"The Governor is here today and it's accounting time."
"I don't understand."
"It's quite simple. Today is one of those days when the Governor comes to inspect the establishment. He always checks on demerit points and then, this evening, before supper, he will award appropriate punishments. We all assemble in the main hall and watch. He usually deals out the awards himself, at least for the more serious cases. How may have you got, by the way?"
"Four, I think - no, five," Lucy answered uncomfortably, blushing at the memory of each point she had earned.
"Well you had better be careful not to earn any more today. You only need six to qualify for the tawse."
Lucy shivered. Her time had run out. She had only what remained of the day if she was going to implement the plan she had formed the night before. It was the only way she could complete her thesis in a way which was guaranteed to win Sebastian's approval. Somehow she knew without being told that the Governor referred to in the notice had to be Sebastian.
Spotting her shudder, Karen assumed that Lucy was cringing at the memory of her traumatic interview with Miss Parkin. She was, but only in the sense that she was imagining how much worse it would be to receive similar treatment from Sebastian himself.
"What do I get for five points?"
"I don't suppose the Governor will even bother with you for five." Karen shrugged dismissively. "Technically, you should get a bare bottom spanking, but I don't suppose the Governor will bother with that; there are bound to be some more severe punishments for him to deal with. He'll probably either let you build up your total and deal with you then, or delegate you to Miss Parkin.
"Anyway," Karen continued, "you'll find out soon enough. The Governor always spends the morning meeting the staff and touring the establishment; then this afternoon the points are totalled up and you will be told what's coming to you."
"You mean, there and then, in front of everybody?"
Again, her colleague mistook Lucy's response for fear. "No, I told you, the actual punishments are later, before supper. They tell you earlier, though, in case there are any special arrangements to make."
Deep down, Lucy felt the butterflies churning. She tried to guess what the phrase 'special preparations' might mean. Her mumbled enquiry to Karen was met simply with "Don't ask; just pray it doesn't apply to you."
"Well that's it then, I'll see you later." Lucy was suddenly decisive.
"What?" Emma was a millisecond ahead of her companions in registering surprise as Lucy turned and made for the exit. "Where are you going, you idiot? We have classes in five minutes."
"Maybe you do - not me, I'm skipping them. Things to do. I'll see you later on." Before anyone could stop her, Lucy was gone.
"Whatever has got into her?" Emma exclaimed. "She's gone mad. They'll have her hide pinned to the wall for decoration if she does something stupid on Governor's Day."
At that very moment, Sebastian was already in Miss Parkin's office, making the first of his own very special preparations for the rest of the day's activities. He had taken over Miss Parkin's seat and his body language made it quite clear that he was in charge. Miss Parkin stood before her own desk, her hands clasped behind her in exactly the attitude she expected of her young charges.
"I may as well say, right at the outset, that I am not pleased with the way things have been going here since my last visit." Sebastian's voice was stern, betraying no hint of the excitement he was feeling over the plan which he had carefully thought up over the last few hours. "In particular, I feel you have rather let me down over the treatment of your two temporary guests."
"Lucy and Juliette?"
"I do indeed refer to Lucy and Juliette. I read both of their records yesterday evening, and I was amazed at the directions in which they have developed in the short time they have been here. Some very strange goings-on seem to be happening."
"I am sorry you are not satisfied, Governor." Miss Parkin evidently did not like the tone of this conversation at all. "I do assure you that both girls have been equitably dealt with."
Sebastian cut her short. "That may be, but they will be even more equitable after I have finished with them this afternoon! Now listen carefully."
He proceeded to outline his requirements very thoroughly. When he had finished Miss Parkin looked quite flushed.
"Finally," he smiled grimly, "there is the question of Miss Wendy Williams and her 'tastes'. She has a lot to answer for."
"Indeed she has," Miss Parkin agreed wholeheartedly, thinking just what she would do when she got Wendy Williams into a position where she could take revenge for the uncomfortable time Sebastian was giving her.
"Perhaps you can deal with her at leisure, later, in your own way." Sebastian had virtually read Miss Parkin's mind. " I think perhaps I will get Miss Williams to show me the gymnasium now, while you are making the other preparations. I want to give her some news, and perhaps add an extra surprise of my own, before the assembly this afternoon."
He rose from the desk and made towards the door. Miss Parkin stood meekly to one side, inwardly jubilant at what she guessed was going to be Wendy Williams's discomfiture. As he brushed past, Sebastian turned again. "Oh and by the way, Miss Parkin,when you are down in the coppice, you had better prepare enough birch cuttings for two. " Her mouth dropped open in shock as Sebastian continued, "As Vice Principal you have considerable responsibility for the performance of your staff and in certain areas that has been lacking. I think you need guidance in certain aspects of your role and later this evening, after assembly, I believe you and I can resolve a few of the shortcomings. I think you will assimilate the guidance best bent over with your knickers down!"
As the door clicked shut behind him, Miss Parkin hung on to her desk for support. Her mind was in turmoil. That she, the Vice Principal should be subjected to such a humiliation. Yet she imagined her submissive posture and her body trembled with a fierce burning excitement.