BEXHILL SCHOOL FOR GIRLS, Assembly (3 page)

“Wow! That’s
gross. I’m glad Mum and Dad don’t spank us. Were you ever thrashed
at Bexhill?”

“Oh yes,
several times. Most girls were in my day. I think it’s a bit better
now.”

“Gosh, I never
knew that you’d been beaten! What’s it like?”

“Not much fun,”
Jane was applying mascara, but half turned to look at her sister.
“I guess I’d better tell you how it works.” She put the make-up
back and swivelled round to face Catharine.

“Only ‘Three
Taps’, Mrs Winchester, and Matron can give you a thrashing,
although I heard a rumour the other day that they want to allow all
the teachers to use a paddle in the classroom. Anyway, they almost
always give you a warning first, unless it’s something really
serious, like smoking. But if you repeat the offence, then you
usually get a spanking. The first time, they use a wooden hairbrush
and you are allowed to keep your knickers on.”

“A hairbrush?
Does it hurt?”

“Mr Masterson
has a special one. It’s very heavy and we all hate it because it
stings so much. It’s even called ‘Stinger’. If you’re up in front
of him and he reaches for a drawer on the right hand side of his
desk, get worried - that’s where he keeps Stinger!”

“How many does
he give you?”

“Six usually,
but sometimes as many as twelve. He’s actually allowed to give you
twenty, but that’s very rare and it hardly ever happened when I was
there.”

“Twelve sounds
bad enough. Does he put you over his knee or what?”

“Matron does
that, sometimes. ‘Three Taps’ usually makes us bend over something
- maybe his desk, or a chair, or the back of the sofa. If you move,
he tells you to touch your toes - that’s bad, because it stretches
the skin on your bottom tighter and so the strokes hurt more.”

“Oooww! I don’t
like the sound of this!” Catharine grimaced, but Jane was getting
into her stride. She enjoyed occasionally winding her sister
up.

“But ‘Stinger’
is only for minor offences. If it’s more serious, they use a tawse.
Do you know what that is?”

“It’s a sort of
strap, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it’s a
leather strap, cut down the centre to make two tongues. They’re
joined to a handle. Both Mr Masterson and Mrs Winchester
have one, but his is the worst. It’s obviously old - they say that
some silly ass of an old girl sent it to him. The tongues are about
eighteen inches long and they sting like anything. They leave
rectangular marks right across your bum. They don’t last long -
only a few days, but it really hurts whilst you’re getting them and
it’s always on the bare.”

“On the
bare
?” Catharine’s eyes were wide. “That must be
so
embarrassing!”

“I suppose they
get used to seeing girls’ backsides and I must say I’ve always been
so worried about what was about to happen that I didn’t have time
to feel embarrassed. I was just focussing on trying not to get up
or put my hands in the way.”

“What happens
if you do?”

“Like I said,
that’s when they make you touch your toes. You get a couple of
extra smacks, probably with Stinger, and then they give you another
one with the tawse or whatever it was. You really don’t want to
move when you’re getting thrashed.”

“Golly. What
else do they use? Has he got a cane?”

“Not ‘
a
’
cane, Cathy: both ‘Three Taps’ and Mrs Winchester have whole racks
of them!”

“Good
grief!”

“If you see
either of them head for the cupboard in the corner of their
offices, you’re probably for it. That’s where they keep their
tawses and canes.”

“Did you ever
get caned?”

“Yes, a couple
of times. The first time was six with a junior cane. They’re quite
thin and whippy. They sting a lot and leave stripes across your
bottom. But the other time I got twelve with a senior. That’s much
worse. They’re thicker and the strokes land with a kind of ‘thud’.
For a moment you think it’s OK, then you get this searing
sensation, like someone has just laid a red-hot poker across your
bum. The senior leaves much more serious marks - sort of like
tramlines. They can be there for a week or more and sitting down
can be really uncomfortable for the first few days.”

“My God! What
did you do to get the cane?”

“The first time
I was cheeky to a teacher, the second time I was caught
smoking.”

“I didn’t know
you smoke.”

“I don’t,
that’s the thing: I was really unlucky. I was just trying a
cigarette for the first time. We were hiding behind the sports
pavilion but ‘Faster’ Fraser, the Games Mistress, saw us. She
hauled us up in front of ‘Three Taps’ and he gave me and the other
two twelve with a senior, it was bloody agony. The second six hurt
much, much more than the first six. But I reckon the girl who gave
us the cigarettes was lucky not to get the Dragon.”

“The Dragon?
What’s that?”

“Well, I’ve
never actually seen it. It’s a special kind of cane. It’s longer,
heavier and a bit darker in colour than a senior and it’s reputed
to hurt like blazes. It’s reserved for the most serious cases. I
don’t think it was ever used while I was there.”

“What else? It
sounds like I’m going to a medieval dungeon!”

“Don’t worry,
Cathy. If you behave and don’t do anything silly, you’ll probably
never find yourself having to bend over.”

“Can anyone
else spank you, apart from the Head and Deputy Head? You mentioned
Matron?”

“Yes, Matron
sometimes spanks us with her clothes brush or a slipper, and I know
she’s got a wooden paddle too, because she used it once on a girl
in my dormitory. That left the poor girl with great big purple
‘bulls-eyes’ on her bum. It looked really funny, but she howled the
place down, so it must have hurt quite a bit.”

“Why did she
get the paddle?”

“We’d been
ragging in the dorm and she was jumping from bed to bed when Matron
came in. She must have heard the noise. She gave the rest of us six
with a slipper, but she thought the girl on the bed was the ring
leader.”

“Ouch!” said
Catharine, rubbing her backside.

“Matron has
ears like a bat and she often appears if we are messing around in
the dorms or the bathrooms. Then she’s quick on the draw and hands
out spankings to everyone, guilty or not.”

“That sounds a
bit unfair.”

“Not really.
The goody-goodies who weren’t taking part deserve to get their bums
smacked for being so wet. Anyway, if matron doesn’t wallop them,
the Dormitory Captain probably will.”

“But the
Dormitory Captains are girls, aren’t they? Are
they
allowed
to spank people?”

“Well, it’s a
sort of unofficial tradition. They can use a slipper or a plimsoll
- maybe a hairbrush at the outside. They’re supposed to keep order
in the dorms and if people get a bit out of control, they sometimes
give them a whacking. Matron and the staff turn a blind eye - I
guess they feel that it deals with the problem for them.”

“You were a
Dorm Captain, weren’t you?”

“Yes, for a
couple of terms.”

“Did you ever
smack anyone?”

“Oh yes, a few
times, when they deserved it. I had an old black tennis shoe which
I used. I’d make them bend over the end of their bed, in full view
of everyone, drop their pyjamas, and then I’d give them six good
smacks. They’d wail a bit, but it always worked a treat.”

“Gosh. I’m glad
I wasn’t there with you. Would you have spanked me?”

“Of course, but
longer and harder than anyone else to show that there was no
favouritism!” Jane gave her sister an evil grin.

“Anything else
I need to know?”

“Haven’t I
frightened you enough? According to the School Handbook, they can
give you the birch for really, really serious offences, but I’ve
never heard of that happening. Look, don’t worry, Cath. You’ll be
fine, and if you do decide to get yourself thrashed, make sure it’s
by Mrs Winchester - she whacks less hard than ‘Three
Taps’”.

The two girls
bending over the back of the sofa, their jeans and panties around
their ankles, might not have altogether agreed with Jane’s
assessment of Mrs Evelyn Winchester’s vigour. They had already
received six blistering strokes of the tawse, leaving their bottoms
red and burning. Now, the Deputy Head Mistress paced up and down
behind her daughter, Margaret, and her friend Paula.

“How dare you
help yourselves to our drinks’ cabinet? You’re both
far
too
young to be drinking spirits.”

“Mum, we’ve
left school. We’re not children any more. We just had a couple of
drinks - like you and Dad have.”

“’
A couple
of drinks’
? That gin bottle is half empty and there are four
tonic bottles in the bin.”

“Well, we’re
not drunk.”

Paula rather
gave the lie to that statement by hiccupping loudly.

“You’re both
plastered and I won’t tolerate it. You’re lucky I didn’t go to the
school and fetch a cane. Now stay still.”

Margaret was on
the left. She winced slightly as she sensed her mother raise the
tawse again. Mrs Winchester whipped the leather thongs down hard
across her daughter’s glowing cheeks. They bounced under the
impact.

“Ooowww! Please
Mum, that’s enough.”

“I’ll tell you
when it’s enough and it’s not yet.”

She raised the
strap again and thrashed it across Margaret’s bottom. Margaret let
out a howl and squirmed against the soft material of the sofa’s
back.

“Please, Mum.
Please let Paula off. It’s not her fault and she’s a guest in our
house.”

“Of course I’ll
let Paula off, if she doesn’t mind me calling her parents and
telling them what she’s been up to. Would you prefer that, Paula?”
Mrs Winchester laid the tawse across Paula’s bottom and drew it
slowly across the girl’s cheeks, the cool of the leather
contrasting with the burning skin beneath.

“Oh, no, please
Mrs Winchester, don’t tell my parents: they’d be furious. My Dad
would probably horse-whip me.”

“So I think
you’re better off getting another six from my tawse, aren’t you?
Bottom right up, please.”

Mrs Winchester
swung the heavy leather down again. Paula howled at the impact.

Henry, Evelyn’s
accountant husband, who had been told to stay in the kitchen while
the punishment took place, poured himself another whisky and tried
to ignore the commotion going on down the corridor.

When all twelve
strokes had been administered to each unwilling
derrière
,
Mrs Winchester told the girls to get up and go to their room.
They levered themselves upright, dragged their knickers and jeans
painfully over their bottoms and slunk out of the sitting room.

“Sober up and
don’t be late for supper,” Mrs Winchester called after them,
“Remember that your old headmaster and his wife are coming.” The
Winchesters had invited Mr Masterson and his wife to dinner. Both
girls had been at Bexhill and quite liked ‘Three Taps’, so they
were looking forward to seeing what he would be like out of the
context of the school.

Margaret and
Paula climbed the stairs, somewhat unsteadily, sniffing back tears
and clutching at the close-fitting denim that aggravated the blaze
in their backsides. They closed the door to Margaret’s bedroom and
threw themselves, sobbing, into each other’s arms.

“I’m so sorry,”
said Margaret, “it was my fault. I should never have suggested that
we had a drink.”

“Of course it
isn’t your fault: I went along with the whole idea. My God, your
mother spanks hard. Dad would have been worse though - he’d have
used a riding crop, so I guess I got off lightly. Let’s look at the
damage, shall we?”

The girls
peeled down their jeans and knickers and both gasped as they
glimpsed their bottoms in the bedroom’s full-length mirror. Blue,
red and purple welts criss-crossed their backsides in a vivid
pattern. Where the stripes crossed, they became almost black.
Mrs Winchester had not held back.

“That’s worse
than anything I ever got from ‘Three Taps’,” said Margaret,
gingerly massaging her cheeks.

“Shall we show
him this evening? Tell him he’d better buck his ideas up if he
wants to compete with the Deputy Head?”

“Good idea -
and if we don’t sober up a bit, we might even do it! I think I’ll
take a shower.”

“OK, after you.
What are you going to wear tonight?”

“Well, nothing
tight - that’s for sure! A dress, I suppose.”

“I only brought
some evening slacks with me. I guess I’ll have to wear them. Are
your dining room chairs hard?”

“Like boards!
‘Three Taps’ will wonder why you keep squirming about.”

“Oh well. I’ll
unpack while you shower.”

Margaret had
invited Paula to stay for a few days. She’d set up a folding bed in
her room so that the two girls could chatter long into the
night.

***

Edward ‘Three
Taps’ Masterson and his wife Marge arrived promptly at eight
o’clock. The Winchester family and Paula welcomed them. Mr
Masterson beamed to see the two girls, who had left the school a
year previously. As the hosts offered around pre-dinner drinks (the
girls pointedly being given soft ones), Mr Masterson seem keen to
hear what Margaret and Paula were up to. He was, they both
privately decided, much less stuffy in a social setting than they
had ever known him at school. The conversation flowed easily and,
as the wine circulated (girls included this time) and the company
mellowed, ‘Three Taps’ even performed a couple of very funny
imitations of two of the more eccentric teachers. Everyone
laughed.

“Tell me,” the
Headmaster said, turning to Paula, “what were the best and worst
moments you remember at school?”

“The best
moments? Mmmm, I’m not sure. I was certainly very proud when I got
my tennis colours after we beat St Mary’s in the schools’ finals.
But also enjoyed being a Prefect. I liked the responsibility.”