Tom and Emma Williams sat in the office of the Headmaster of Dotherby School for Girls feeling rather nervous. Between them, their daughter Sarah sat feeling perhaps less nervous, and more bored, at having to go through this rigmarole yet again.
“I am very pleased Mr and Mrs Williams, that we are indeed able to accommodate your daughter Sarah here at Dotherby’s. We endeavour to ensure that all girls who need a place in our school are made very welcome. Now, I see that she has been at St Margarets, Rowley School, St Katherine’s and at St Mary’s Wilmshurst. That’s rather a lot of schools, if you don’t mind me saying so.”
“It’s, well, been hard to get Sarah to settle” said Mrs Williams
“Settle? Behave, I think is more like it. I’m sorry, headmaster, but that’s the truth of it” added Mr Williams.
“Behave?” asked Dr Thorpe, the Headmaster. “perhaps I could enquire as to why Sarah had to leave each of those schools, particularly St Margarets, the latest?”
“Well … I … we … we did see that you were advertising that previous records don’t matter for applications, yes?”
“Yes. We pride ourselves on a fresh start for girls who have gone astray elsewhere. We do still like to know what the ‘going astray’ actually was. Perhaps Sarah could enlighten us?”
The girl lifted a sullen glance in his direction, before muttering “I was expelled”, leaving it at that.
“Yes, but what for?”
“Creative differences” she replied.
“Er, darling …”
“What? I thought a bit of bang would be fun in the school, and the miserable cow thought it was violent destruction.” She shrugged. “Whatever. As long this isn’t one dumphole for another.”
“I see. Perhaps”, Dr Thorpe “I should make one thing clear. We are not here to indulge girls with messy behaviour. We are here to teach them, and to teach them well. Make them useful members of society. I’m sure we could channel this interest of yours in creative ways. I do note that your bit of bang blew up nearly one side of a whole building. This is inconvenient for the school. I also see that you have, at various points, actually hit a teacher as well as fellow pupils, spent so much time skiving off in the local town centre some people thought you’d already been asked to leave, and have a deep and persistent habit of stealing, not doing homework or lines and blowing off detentions for other perhaps more minor misbehaviour.”
The girl shrugged again.
“It’s like this, Headmaster. Sarah is at an ‘interesting’ age, where she likes to explore things. And frankly, we really, really need somewhere for her to complete her education. Dotherby’s, out of the way, out here, away from distractions and places she get hold of things, we hope will be the making of her. Erm, it is really true that you haven’t expelled a girl in years?”
Dr Thorpe smiled. “it is. We pride ourselves on not needing to expel girls. We have other methods, ones which a lot of other schools refuse, or disdain, to use. But we think they work. And if they keep a girl in school, then surely they are better than leaving her where your daughter is, in search of yet another educational place?”
The parents smiled, but the worried look did not completely pass.
“Now, Sarah. I think I should demonstrate to you why we have not had to expel a girl in many years. I don’t do this for all the new girls, but one who has been invited to leave, now let me see, 1, 2,3, four schools in her time is one in need of this demonstration. Have you ever heard of the cane?”
Sarah shrugged, looking up briefly before doing so and then staring back down again. Her parents looked a bit more surprised.
“Well, I intend to demonstrate it to you now. If your parents feel this is not the appropriate discipline for you, then you are, of course, all free to leave. But if you stay, then, like every other girl in this school, this will be the punishment you receive if your behaviour continues as it has in your previous schools, and you manage to build up the appropriate record, or commit an offence that brings you straight to this. Would you be so good as to go to the door, and from there bring me one of the sticks with the curved handles hanging from the back?”
He rose from behind his desk, and walked over to one of the arm chairs by the fireplace. From here, he collected a cushion, and carried it back over to his desk.
Sarah Williams had done as asked, and had selected one of the thicker canes from the back of the door.
Dr Thorpe dropped the cushion onto the end of his desk, and took the cane from Sarah.
“Interesting choice. One I will bear in mind if I ever need to do this for real. Now. Imagine this cushion is you. In fact, your bottom, where you are bending over this desk, with your skirt turned up and having pulled your knickers down.”
“I would then proceed to punish the girl, that is you, with the cane. I won’t hold back, but this won’t be the works I could deal out, either. You would likely receive what we term ‘six of the best’, rather like this.”
He administered a crips six, firm strokes of the cane to the unsuspecting cushion. Sarah gasped and her eyes blinked wide open at the sight, and somehow worse, the sound of the impacts. She stood, transfixed, as though, somehow, this was going to stay with her for however long her good intentions lasted.
“Rather like that” Dr Thorpe remarked, stepping back behind his desk. “Don’t look so worried. Plenty of girls make the most of a new start, and never need to trouble my canes at all. Plenty others find that one or two encounters sort them out. As for the ones that it doesn’t, well, we just keep going. I promise we won’t seek to expel you, you know.”
Sarah nodded gently, but her mind was clearly elsewhere. Dr Thorpe noted that her hands had moved, almost certainly involuntarily, to protect her bottom.
Discussion moved on, dealing with other practicalities like fees, visits, sickness arrangements and so forth.
At the end of the interview, it seemed agreed that Sarah would be joining Dotherby’s School.
“When could she start?” asked Mrs Williams.
“No time like the present, if you’ve got what you need with you. I see you had already found the uniform for her.”
“Oh. Yes. Quite. Quite.”
“Well, that’s all settled. I’ll get a prefect to take you to the dorm, get Sarah settled in. It has been good to meet you all.”
Dr Thorpe showed the family to the door, and shook their hands as they left, summoning a girl to take them to the dorm Sarah had been allocated.
It took, perhaps, ten days for Sarah Williams to already rack up enough missed preps, rolled eyes, and sarcastic responses to start earning detentions. And collecting a few more over the next couple of weeks, brought her back to Dr Thorpe’s Study for a conversation.
“Do you remember the warning I gave you, not three weeks ago, when you joined us here at Dotherby’s?”
Shrug. Vague nod.
“You will speak when you answer me, is that clear, Miss Williams?”
“Yes. Sir.”
“And yet you have persisted in the sort of behaviour that got you in trouble in your previous schools. We are giving you the chance of a new start. A fresh beginning. A chance to learn, to join in activities, to make friends. You are getting on with the other girls, aren’t you?”
“Oh, yes Sir.” If, of course, you could call asking the other girls where the ways out were and how to find them and who had the ‘good stuff’, getting on with the other girls.
“Good. Well, we don’t jump in with what I demonstrated to you, but you should keep it in mind. Don’t think you can keep just the right side of the line to avoid it – rather aim to keep out of trouble at all. Frankly, I think the effort some of you girls go to to avoid doing what you need to do is greater than the effort involved in actually doing it.”
“Anyway, I’m hearing good things about your abilities in art, with some interesting design work coming through already, and apparently you are actually, when you make the effort, a talented wordsmith. Try to keep that up, and much good will come, I’m sure.”
Regrettably, particularly for Sarah, these warnings did not exactly go well heeded. She decided, one morning, that swimming was far to dull an activity, and having raided the art stores, tipped several bottles of red paint into the pool, leaving a bright crimson pond for the teachers to discover when they went to open up. She had been seen heading away from the pool with the bottles, and further investigation revealed that she had been seen trying to get into the art store.
A further interview with Dr Thorpe now followed.
“I want to be myself, yeah”
“I’m very happy for you to be yourself, but not when it disrupts your, and other girls, swimming lessons. Vital pieces of your education, giving you experience for safety and for athletic engagement.”
“But …”
“No buts, Sarah. You have had several chances. You have been warned about your behaviour. This is exactly the thing that got you asked to leave your other schools. Is that your hope, that we would get exasperated and eventually, with nowhere else to go, you won’t have to go to school and do you exams and get entry into higher education and thus a good career?”
“Because, if it is, you are being the despair of your parents. And, you have forgotten the warning we gave you. We really, really try not to expel our girls. And so we use, if you recall, the cane!”
Sarah looked suddenly shocked. The idea had completely left her. She glanced over at the canes on the door, and then towards where the cushion had come from. The thought of that happening to her was, was, unthinkable. It really should have been. But now, here she was, thinking it anyway.
“With your current record, already getting detentions and reports, missing doing lines and skipping your prep, I really don’t think we have a choice, now.”
“I … but … I … you can’t …”
“I can, and I shall. Because you need to learn that this sort of thing is not acceptable. Warnings haven’t worked. Detentions haven’t worked. At previous schools, you were asked to leave, and this has perhaps made you think it was your means of escape. It very much isn’t.”
“I want you to remove your blazer, and hang it on the stand by the door. From the back of the door, bring me one of the thicker canes, as you did for the demonstration a few weeks ago.”
He watched as the girl complied. Not, perhaps, willingly, but complied, nonetheless.
“Thank you Sarah. Now, bend across the end of the desk here. Hold on tight to the other side.”
He watched as, again, she did so.
He placed the cane on the desk, and reached down for the hem of her skirt. She gasped as he began to lift it, and he felt her stiffen as he brought it up and over her bottom before depositing the material at her waist.
“Imagine your bare bottom, I would have said. What did you expect, that somehow you were going to get this across your skirt?”
A deft placing of his fingers inside the waistband of her knickers saw him pull them out and then down, across the curves of her bottom, and down to the middle of her thighs.
“Hold on tight, girl. This is going to hurt.”
He took up the cane again, and stepping to one side, placed the implement across her bottom, at the point where the curve out from her waist began to curve back towards her legs.
He lifted the cane away, and then swung, as he had in the demonstration, with a firm force and intentional swish down towards his target.
The crack of the cane making impact with the naughty girl’s bottom was resounding. The yell of agony was clear.
The next stroke followed down, landing below the previous one, now raising a clear red mark where the cane had landed.
A third, and a fourth. Each time Sarah yelled as the pain cracked across her bottom, before somehow growing and swelling, reaching an apparent climax, yet, to be increased the moment the cane landed yet again.
Two more to go. Could she make it. Sarah dug her fingers deeper into the desk, and set her teeth, to try to just burn through the last couple of strokes.
The fifth landed lowest of all, so far, right down near the bottom of her buttocks, where she felt things were already sore and tender. At least she was lying across the desk, so she didn’t buckle under the impact of it. The clenched jaw did, however, mean that she managed to stifle some of the shout of pain she was feeling the urge to make.
“Last one to come, Sarah. Brace yourself.”
She tried to do so. But wasn’t really sure how.
So the sixth stroke landed, this time crossing over the others, which had been kept apart so far.
Was it possible for something that already hurt, to have even more paid added to it? That was how it felt for Sarah, as the new line crossed the previous lines marking her previously pristine skin.
Now, if there hadn’t been before, there was definitely a glimmer of tears in her eyes.
“That’s over with”, Dr Thorpe remarked. “Stay there for a few moments until you feel you can stand.”
He watched her lie there, tensing and untensing her well-marked bottom, and hearing the sound of her breathing return a little more to normal as she fought to regain control of her tears,
Eventually, she lifted herself up, and then slowly raised herself to a standing position.
“Hands away from your bottom. You don’t get to try to rub it better in here.”
She nodded, several times, rather distractedly.
“Pull your knickers and tights back up, and let your skirt down” he gently instructed, and watched as she did so, wincing as the press of the knickers elastic and then the compression of the tights pressed down on her freshly caned bottom.
“I think we are done here, for now. I don’t want to see you back here for this or any similar reason, do you understand. Or you will get a repeat of this punishment. I want to see you thrive, your drawings get known and you writing take you to new and interesting places. That is where “creative differences” have a meaning.”
“Yes, sir”, Sarah replied.
“Very well. Collect your blazer, and be off with you. Mind how you go, and remember, I will do this again!”.
She collected her blazer from the hook on the coatstand, and followed him to the door where he let her out.
It would be nice, of course, to say that that one caning was all it took to straighten Sarah Williams out. There were six more visits over the following year to Dr Thorpe’s study, each as painful as the last. But somehow, she did devote herself to her writing and her drawing, and began to make a name for herself in these fields. She did come to accept that she wasn’t going to be able to naughty her way out of this school, and in the end buckled down, become perhaps not well loved, as her sarcasm was never too far from the surface, but at least liked and respected in the way she exhibited her abilities, once turned to more suitable use.
Girl spanking stories 