by Susan Thomas
"Good morning Martin. Please have a seat. I believe you are studying A-Level Latin and English at night school?"
"Yes sir. I only went to secondary modern and I have done a lot of classes since leaving. I didn't want to remain ignorant."
"Are you doing well?"
"My tutor says I am, sir."
"Good, good; excellent. Sergeant Peters says you are quick and intelligent."
Anne said nothing. It wasn't a question and she wondered just where this was going.
"The thing is Martin, you look very young and could look younger with the right hairstyle. Next week a girls' boarding school in the north of the county returns to school after the summer break. It's right on the cliff by the sea. They have their own boatyard and all. We believe that someone on the staff is smuggling in cocaine for the rich and famous. Most of the girls are from well-heeled families so it makes sense that the proximity to the sea and the connections would make it a useful base. The trouble is, we can't prove a thing. We want you to go in as a new sixth former studying A levels. You'd be a boarder. See if you can get a handle on anything suspicious. What do you say?"
Anne had been so flattered she had agreed immediately. The following week she had found herself with her trunk in the boot of a large Rover car and wearing the full uniform (courtesy of the Constabulary) of a St Agnes of Clitheroe girl. Her 'father' was a friend of the Chief Constable who lived in London and would not be known locally. What Superintendent Craig had not told Anne was that the girls were subject to corporal punishment… even the sixth formers... not even the prefects were exempt. She had discovered the reality at the very first PE lesson when she and two other new pupils had come in fractionally late. Wearing plimsolls on her feet, an Aertex sports blouse and a pair of red gym knickers, Anne felt a fool … but worse was to come.
"You three come here. What time do you call this? You do not come late to my lessons. First girl, bend and touch your toes."
The poor girl looked blank at first but a glare from the extremely tough looking PE teacher hurried her into obedience. She bent over and Anne watched with embarrassment and horror as the girl's PE knickers stretched tightly over her bottom; well at least there were no boys or men present. The teacher had a battered old plimsoll in her hand and now raised her arm high above her shoulder and powered it down into a tremendous blow to the girl's bottom. There was a suppressed yelp from the girl and Anne was fascinated as a mark appeared on the red gym knickers.
Whup! The slipper smacked down hard again and this time her sharp eyes noticed some little dust motes come off the knickers and fly into the air. The knickers were new so the motes had to be some fibres from the material. The girl had yelped louder this time and the third made her yelp louder still. She was allowed to stand and did so with a very red face while her hands went straight to her bottom and began rubbing.
The next girl was quiet throughout her slippering, but she too had a very red face when she stood, and she also rubbed her bottom to ease the sting. Mentally cursing Superintendent Craig, Anne bent over, her fingers touching her toes in the prescribed manner. She could feel her gym knickers stretch tightly over her bottom. The blow from the slipper felt huge and Anne rocked forward slightly, her bottom igniting with the sting. It wasn't as bad as her spanking from Sergeant Peters but it was bad enough. Whup! Somehow Anne managed to restrain any cry or yelp when the second blow compounded the sting of the first. Her bottom felt very sensitive now, but there was only one more to go. Whup! She wanted to cry out at the third but didn't. She knew her face was burning with embarrassment when she stood, but she kept her hands by her side. Rubbing her bum would look bad she decided. They were not the last girls to be spanked. The PE teacher was clearly laying down a standard and was giving no quarter. By the time the class were in the showers, twelve girls had red marks across their bottoms. They weren't even allowed the luxury of a long shower. Miss Derbyshire, the PE teacher, stood at the entrance and chivvied them along.
Anne swiftly discovered it was like that the whole time. The girls were not allowed to waste time, but neither must they run. Being caught running or being late meant touching your toes and having a slipper whack your bum a good few times. Persistent lateness resulted in the cane. That wasn't all though. Uniform must be impeccable: the tie neatly knotted, the correct school knickers and gleaming shoes without scuff marks. Classroom behaviour had a myriad of rules: stand when a member of staff entered; sit with a straight back; raise your hand and wait until invited to speak; always have the correct equipment with you. The girls that had come up through the school knew the ropes and didn't get punished as much as the new pupils. By the end of the first day Anne was finding sitting still quite difficult as she had received a total of fourteen whacks with the slipper. Her bottom burnt and stung, and although not as bad as her spanking from Sergeant Peters, it made her wriggle cautiously on her seat.
However, after a week Anne began to settle in. Being in reality a policewoman helped her because she was used to a disciplined regime. She was also very good at PE and games which stood her in good stead with Miss Derbyshire. Each sixth form girl had to study for three A-Levels as well as do PE, Games, Swimming and Religious Education. Superintendent Craig had chosen English, Latin and Law for her A-Levels. Since she was already studying two of them at A-Level and law was very much part of her job she was soon right at the top of each class and was enjoying the work. However, she had to remember she was not a sixteen-year-old schoolgirl, but an undercover policewoman, and she had to work out who might be smuggling the cocaine.
The problem was that she was very restricted in her movements. Pupils were allowed part of Saturday for themselves, and sixth formers were allowed to leave the premises. There were odd times on other days as well, and Anne had arranged with Superintendent Craig to use a hollow tree for what he called a 'dead letter box'. She would leave a message their at least twice a week even if she had nothing to report. Anne's first message just said she was settling in and no one seemed suspicious of her.
Sunday was a much more relaxed day. Or at least it was so after the lengthy service in the chapel. The Rev. Gladwin Whiston was a kindly, white-haired gentleman in his early sixties. The vicar of the local parish was in his eighties, and rather frail, so the Rev. Whiston was often in demand visiting the sick and helping out. However, Sunday mornings saw him in the chapel in full flow... for the delivery of a very lengthy sermon. Anne could see the eyes of the other girls glazing over with utter boredom and she began the process of considering just who was doing the cocaine smuggling.
Her gut instinct told her that it wouldn't be any of the support staff such as cooks and cleaners. Most were only part time anyway and none had any access to the boathouse. She also dismissed Mr Appleton the Head of History. Mr Appleton could barely remember where and when he was supposed to be teaching and only came to life when he was explaining the distant past. Several other teachers were similarly dismissed in her mind as too daft, too incompetent or simply too unlikely. She might be wrong of course but she had to start somewhere. By the end of the service she had ruled out well over half the teachers as being suspects.
She was in one of her Law classes when she finally began to jot down in a notebook her list of viable secret cocaine smugglers.
1. Doctor Hardcourt, the Headmaster. He was a shrewd and intelligent man. Oh, he might be an old bore in assembly but he was clever no doubt.
2. Miss Derbyshire, Head of PE. She was frighteningly efficient and had bags of energy.
3. Miss Dunwoody, Head of English. She was mainly on the suspect list because Anne didn't like her, but she was sharp, intelligent and knew a great many well-off people.
She was busy thinking about who else should be added to her rather short list when a voice cut into her thoughts.
"Martin! Am I distracting you from something more important than my lesson?"
Anne looked up to see Miss Wynne-Jones, the Head of Law, glaring down at her. She blushed and stammered, uns
ure how to reply, especially as she had three names written in her notebook and didn't want the teacher to see them.
"Martin, you were not paying attention were you?"
Anne sighed. This meant a caning for sure, but best to confess and hope the woman didn't look at her notebook. "No Miss Wynne-Jones. I am frightfully sorry."
"Step out to the front, Martin."
Anne had not been caned since she was at her secondary modern school. That had been on the hand but here at St Agnes all punishment was on the bottom. She saw her teacher pick up the cane from her desk and watched her swish it through the air. To her mind it made an evil sound.
"Bend over and touch your toes."
Anne bent over keeping her legs straight and touched her toes with the dead straight fingers that the teachers liked to see. Her skirt stretched tightly over her bottom. At least she wasn't getting it on the bare bottom. She had her skirt, underskirt and knickers to protect her, although, judging by the marks she had seen on other girls, that wasn't a huge help. The cane rested on her bottom. It was a strangely frightening sensation; Anne had to remind herself sharply she was a policewoman, and this wasn't as bad as being punched in the face by a drunk on Friday night.
She heard the swish of the cane, then almost at the same moment, felt the blow as it landed. For the tiniest second she thought it hadn't hurt but then a hot burning line appeared across her bottom. "Ouch," she muttered softly. The next swish followed hard on the heels of the first and another painful line of heat made itself felt. Anne gritted her teeth and braced herself for the next which was only a split second later in coming. It landed with a vicious crack and Anne sucked in air across her teeth making a curious 'ssss' sound. She stood, her bottom now hot with three lines of unpleasantly throbbing soreness. She couldn't help herself, her hands went back to her bottom and began rubbing in a vain attempt to ease the soreness.
"Now sit down Martin and pay attention unless you wish to see me in my study later today."
Anne knew the 'study' comment was St Agnes code for a bare bottom caning so she quickly apologised again and sat down. The other girls looked at her with sympathy. It was one of the good things about St Agnes … the other girls didn't take pleasure in the punishment of others. Perhaps it was because they all got punished so much. Sitting on the hard wooden chair after being caned was not fun, but Anne redeemed herself a little with Miss Wynne-Jones by giving a clear explanation of the difference between robbery and burglary. After the lesson ended she added the teacher to the list. The woman was clever, observant, ruthless and knew the law; definitely a suspect.
In her free time that evening Anne found a way of getting up onto the roof. She reasoned that if she could get up there after lights out, she could observe the courtyard below to see if any teachers left the premises late at night. She was lucky in only having to share a room with one other girl. Samantha Walker was a cheerful, plump girl whose bottom seemed to be permanently sore. She was simply so late to everything and so disorganised that she was often bending over for a dose of the slipper or cane. Anne had been shown a variety of marks on an almost daily basis and felt quite sorry for her roommate. However, Sam (as she preferred to be known) was cheerful about it.
"None of it as bad as my mother's hairbrush spankings. You should hear me howl when she gets to work," she said, and giggled.
Anne was quite pleased to be able to show her roommate some marks for a change.
"Three nice welts you've got there. Just don't get sent to Dr Hardcourt. If he gets to work on you those will look like love pats."
"That bad?"
"Oh yes. I've never been, but I've seen what he can do, and he only canes on the bare bum too."
"But that's terrible. He's a man."
Sam giggled. "Well he's a headmaster... that's a sort of man I suppose. Anyway he has Miss Drake-Harrington in there with him so that's alright. Worrying about him seeing your bare bum will be the last thing on your mind if he canes you. Just stay in his good books."
After lights out Anne waited until she thought Sam was asleep and then quietly left for the roof. Sam sat up and watched her go with a puzzled expression on her face. Anne herself hit gold after only thirty minutes on the roof. All was still and quiet in the courtyard with only a few lights on where teachers were still up. A dark shadow appeared, slipped across the courtyard, took a bicycle and peddled off into the night. Anne recognised who it was by the vigorousness of the movements. It was Miss Derbyshire. She returned to her room smugly satisfied only to find Sam sitting up watching her.
"OK Anne, just what are you up to? You're not a schoolgirl that's for sure."
Anne established that Sam had told no one of her suspicions and then swore her to secrecy. "I'm a policewoman working undercover. I can't explain why, but just take no notice of anything I do, and don't talk about it."
Sam was very excited. "This is just like those silly books about boarding school I used to read. I thought it would really be like that and instead I just get my bum whacked all the time. If I can do anything to help let me know."
The next day Anne left a report in the 'dead letter box', asking for an officer to follow Miss Derbyshire the next time she pedalled off into the night. It took several days for a reply to come back to the effect that Miss Derbyshire was having an affair with a man in the nearby village. Anne crossed her PE teacher off the list and decided she had to be outside herself at least for some of the night.
It took her a while to find a back staircase, make sure she could get out of the door to the courtyard, and get back in again. So, late one night, dressed in dark clothing, she hid in the courtyard and waited to see if any teacher came out. There was no movement at all and one by one the lights in the teacher's rooms or flats went out. Anne decided to give up and go in but just at that moment a figure appeared leaving the headmaster's house. It was none other than Dr Hardcourt and he was pushing a bicycle. Anne hurried to get the cook's bike and went after him.
Dr Hardcourt cycled for about two miles before coming to a small house in a lonely lane. He parked his bike in a bush just inside the garden of the house and walked up to the door. His knock was answered quickly and another, rather younger, man appeared. The two men embraced and began kissing but the younger man pulled Dr Hardcourt inside and the door shut. Anne let out a soft whistle. So, not cocaine, but an affair with another man; it was of course illegal and both men would be ruined if a prosecution took place, but Anne didn't see it. How were those two causing any problem? She decided her report would simply say that Dr Hardcourt, like Miss Derbyshire, was leaving the school to pursue a sexual affair. It would be assumed it was with a woman.
Anne was exhausted by the time she finally crawled back into her bed. Sam was snoring loudly and it took her a long time to get off to sleep. She was still tired in the morning and yawned her way through breakfast.
Sam whispered at the breakfast table, "What time did you get back?"
"About half past two. I followed Dr Hardcourt but it turned out to be nothing serious. He probably doesn't get much time to himself in his job."
A tired Anne wandered in to her Latin lesson on time but was not on top form. Mr Davenport, the Classics master, was not endowed with much patience at the best of times, but today he was at his worst. The prep he had set had not been done to a satisfactory standard and he had prepared a quick test to wake them all up. Anne sat looking at the first question and her mind went blank. The very first question seemed terribly hard.
Familia in urbe multos menses habitabat.
A) in many months B) for many months C) after many months D) before many months
Mr Davenport only allocated a short time to answer the ten questions he had printed off on a Banda machine. The smell of the spirit still wafted off the papers but it failed to help Anne's 'fuzzy' brain; she worked too slowly and only got five questions right. She and four other girls received one of Mr Davenport's special, sarcastic tongue-lashings before being made to come out to the front. All
five knew they would be bending over but hoped that it would be the slipper and not the cane. Perhaps Mr Davenport knew he was in a bad mood. Perhaps he realised he was being too severe for the offence, but having picked up his cane (causing the stomachs of all five to lurch) he put it down again and reached in his desk drawer for his slipper. Five girls breathed a sigh of relief.
Anne was last in line; as she watched each girl bend over in turn to receive her whacking she thought it would only be her second spanking from a man. Sergeant Peters was really a special case and she wondered if it was right that a man should spank a teenage girl like this. Not that she was really a teenage girl, but he didn't know that. Then it was her turn.
"Touch your toes, Martin."
Anne did as she was told though she ached to say, "Get lost," before walking off. Whack! The blow was so hard it rocked her forward and her toes touched the floor. A hot stinging place erupted on her bottom and she gritted her teeth. He was giving each girl four whacks so she had three to go...
Whack! "Ow!" The yelp was forced out of her tired lips. Whack! "Ow!" she yelped again. This wasn't good she told herself; it wasn't done to make a lot of noise when getting whacked. As the fourth whack crashed against her bottom she managed to keep silent and stood again, her bottom hot and stinging furiously.
All five were given extra prep to do and told to sit down. Sitting on a hard wooden chair after having been given a dose of the slipper was a curious experience. At first it was uncomfortable but soon the warmth and the movement of the bottom against the chair made it oddly pleasurable. Anne enjoyed that strange experience but had not enjoyed being publicly slippered by a man. She painted a mental picture of Inspector Craig tied up while she tortured him with a hot poker. That, she thought, was a fair punishment for having kept the whole corporal punishment issue from her when he asked her to go undercover. She was not to know that a far worse punishment was heading her way.