The Girls of Cropton Hall

by Stanlegh Meresith

  "First on the bill tonight, ladies, yes, you've seen them before, but what do they look like two days later? I bet you're wondering!"

  Christina groaned and muttered, "Thomas, please!"

  "We're wondering," said Elizabeth, who was not alone in being quite smitten with Rachel. Susan was now kneeling at the end of her bed, ready to enjoy the show, and Sally had quite forgotten the corridor. Charlotte and Alice watched amused from their beds.

  "Da-dar!" sang Rachel, pulling up her nightie to reveal the still visible lines of her six of the best from Friday.

  "Boooo!" went Alice, mockingly. "Booooring! Old news!" Rachel laughed and lowered her nightie again.

  "No, wait!" said Elizabeth, pleadingly. "I didn't get a proper look. Please, Thomas." Her appeal was so heartfelt that Rachel bent again and revealed her bottom.

  "Gosh," said Elizabeth, coming forward to the end of her bed.

  "Does it still hurt?" asked Sally from the door.

  "Yes, it does when I sit down," said Rachel. "It starts to throb a bit."

  Susan gazed longingly at her brown-haired, beautiful lover. Sensing a lull in the excitement, Rachel stood and resumed her Mistress of Ceremonies pose.

  "And NOW, ladies, we would like to introduce a newcomer, yes, a brave young soul who not five hours ago was a cane-VIRGIN." This elicited giggles from most quarters. "Please give a big hand for ... Miss Charlotte Wilson!"

  Elizabeth and Sally clapped enthusiastically, Christina groaned and Charlotte, blushing, stood up on her bed and turned her back to the others. Slowly she lifted up the back of her nightie until her buttocks were revealed with their four distinct tramlines, all sloping slightly downwards from left to right, a slightly deeper red on her right cheek. She craned her neck back and round to try and see for herself, while Alice and Elzabeth moved to get a better look. Sally came over too.

  "Not bad, Charlotte," said Alice. "I bet you couldn't stay down."

  "I did till the last one, that bottom one there," she said, running a finger along the lowest, darkest stripe.

  "Gosh, you poor thing," said Elizabeth, somewhat sobered. She'd been jealous when she'd heard Charlotte had gone into the village with Simpson, but now just felt relieved it hadn't been her.

  "Thank you, Miss Wilson," said Rachel. "And now, tonight's highlight! Six of the very best, with the senior cane itself, our very own, our very brave ... Miss Alice Jennings!" Rachel clapped vigorously and the others joined in.

  Alice had been unwilling to do this when Rachel had suggested it earlier, but Rachel's cajoling had persuaded her. Anyway, she couldn't resist an audience and she was rather proud of her new status: as far as she knew only Bennett and Patterson, both upper-sixth formers, had had six with the senior cane this term. She stood on her bed and lifted her nightie.

  There was a moment of awed silence and then Sally gave an admiring whistle.

  "Gosh!" said Elizabeth.

  "Phewee!" said Susan.

  "Corkers!" said Rachel.

  Alice's stripes were exactly horizontal, and neatly spaced. They were a purplish red and looked very sore.

  "How does it feel, Jennings?" asked Sally in awe.

  "Sore!" said Alice. "Very, very sore! In fact it's throbbing right now, and ... and..." She let her nightie fall and started to cry, covering her face with her hands as she stood there. Rachel came over and helped her to kneel.

  "Hey, it's all right, Alice," she said. "It won't hurt so much soon, I promise." Alice's frame shook with sobs as she knelt facing the head of her bed. Rachel made soothing noises and stroked the top of her back. The others looked on, suddenly guilty and embarrassed and sorry. Rachel spoke softly: "I'm sorry I made you show us ... it was stupid of me..."

  "No, no, it's all right," said Alice through her tears. "I don't mind that ... it's only fair. It's just..." She took a deep breath and wiped her face. "...just that it hurt sooo much ... and it still does ... and I don't know how I'm going to be able to sleep tonight." More tears sprang from her eyes and again she covered her face.

  "Sssh!" said Rachel. "You'll be fine. Just lie on your side or your front, and try to stay still. You'll drop off. Ssssh ... there now..."

  Alice calmed and turned a grateful, tear-streaked face to the older girl. "Thanks, Thomas," she said.

  "That's better," said Susan, who'd come over to sympathise. There was a pause, as Alice dried her eyes and took a deep breath. Rachel broke the silence:

  "Just remind me not to turn my back when Alice's got a hockey stick in her hands!" Susan gave her a frown, but Alice smiled. And then she started to giggle, and soon she was shaking with laughter, and the whole dorm, save Christina, started to laugh too.

  Twenty minutes later, Miss Dawson appeared, wished them all a good night and it was time for lights out.

  Susan lay on her back staring up into the impenetrable darkness and tried not to think about the four strokes she was due in the morning after assembly. But all she could see were vivid red stripes.

  ---oOo---

  Verily responded to the timid knock on her study door by getting up from the letter she was writing and going herself to greet Emily Stokes.

  "Come in, Emily, come in," she said welcomingly. Emily, she noticed, had changed into a simple plaited skirt and white blouse. It struck Verily as odd: a change of clothing at this time on a Sunday evening? The observation was, however, no more than fleeting and she invited Emily over towards the sofas.

  Emily stopped and stood, awkwardly. "Actually, Headmistress," she said, "I think it might be better if we talked here." She indicated the desk. Verily stopped in surprise, nodded, looked around and brought a chair over for Emily.

  "Thank you, Headmistress," said Emily, sitting.

  "Now how can I help you, Miss Stokes?" asked Verily, reflecting her young colleague's formal mode of address. "Prudence mentioned a ... confession?"

  Emily cleared her throat. She was starting to blush. "Yes, yes, I'm afraid so. But ... if I may, I'd like to tell you something first?" Verily settled back in her chair and said,

  "Of course ... please."

  "My own boarding-school was very strict," began Emily. "We were punished frequently, with the cane and ... you know ... and I myself more than most. I was ... well, I suppose I actually ... I sort of..." She looked down at her hands in her lap. Verily leaned forward.

  "Yes, Emily?" she asked gently.

  "I..." Emily took a deep breath. "I sort of wanted it," she said, looking up and exhaling the words in a rush. "Because ... well ... I suppose I needed it really. I was lazy, and naughty ... quite often deliberately, and so I got the cane many many times."

  "I see," said Verily. "And what is the confession you wish to make now, Emily?"

  Emily looked down again and her blush deepened. After a pause she met the Headmistress' gaze and blurted out, "I have 36 essays I haven't marked and my record of work stops at Tuesday. I'm supposed to be giving half those essays back tomorrow and ... and ... I just can't seem to ... just can't ... Miss Markham, Prudence told me you caned her, and ... and ... well..." There was a pause before Verily asked, in some surprise,

  "You want me to cane you?" Emily squirmed in embarrassment.

  "Well ... yes, Headmistress ... because ... I really think that's the only way I'll find the motivation to do my work. I know it's silly and ... ridiculous really but I've just become ... stubborn and lazy and I've got this block somehow..."

  "Emily, I understand," said Verily mildly. "It's a highly unusual request, of course, but I do understand the position you find yourself in. However..." She paused and leaned back again, steepling her fingers and surveying the younger woman closely. Emily sat up straight and met her gaze. Verily continued. "I sense that, if I were to cane you, here, now, it would be as much a kind of ... reward as it would be a punishment?" Verily let the question hang in the air. Emily looked very embarrassed and twisted slightly in her seat.

  "Yes, Headmistress," she admitted.

  "And I am reluctant to reward l
aziness and a lack of professionalism."

  "Yes, Headmistress," said Emily, a little disappointed.

  "However," continued Verily, "I can see that you are concerned about your block, and I," she emphasised the word with a raised voice, "am concerned about those unmarked essays." She thought for a few moments. "Very well, Miss Stokes, I will cane you now, and I will expect every one of those essays to be marked, properly, and returned to their authors tomorrow, on schedule."

  "Yes, Headmistress," said Emily gratefully, her relief now tinged with some fear.

  "However, henceforth I would suggest, should you agree ... should you need it ... that we shall reverse the procedure."

  Emily looked puzzled. "Headmistress?"

  "I'm suggesting, Emily, that once a fortnight you report to me here with all your marking and records up to date, and I will cane you as a reward. Would that be an appropriate motivation for you?" Emily shifted on her chair but answered with alacrity.

  "Yes, Headmistress, I believe it would."

  "Very well, so be it. This will remain strictly between you and I. Is that clear?"

  "Yes, Headmistress." Emily's bright blue eyes shone. Verily paused.

  "Now then, as to the matter of the present ... punishment, I must warn you that I intend to make it just that: a severe and salutary punishment. You are a woman, not a teenager, and you are no stranger to the cane. You will receive a thrashing as you've never had before: twelve strokes of the senior cane, followed by a further six with an especially flexible and heavier cane which I myself have experience of and which I can assure you will leave you extremely uncomfortable for at least a week. I expect you to accept this punishment with as much dignity as you are able, and there will be no backing out, is that clear?"

  Emily gulped. Excitement chased fear through her veins and again she shifted awkwardly on her seat.

  "Yes, Headmistress," she said, her stomach twisting, her palms beginning to sweat.

  Verily now spoke very sternly, and with a harder edge to her voice. "Stand up, Miss Stokes."

  Emily got up.

  "Replace that chair over there." Emily moved the chair back over to the side by the chest of drawers and returned to stand before Miss Markham's desk.

  "Miss Stokes, you have allowed yourself to become inexcusably lazy and sloppy, you are in danger of failing your pupils and you have neglected several of your most basic duties. Would that not be an appropriate summary of your conduct?" Emily looked down and flushed. She played with her hands and her right foot turned to creep over the top of her left.

  "Yes, Headmistress," she said in a small voice, feeling seventeen again. Verily spoke coldly:

  "Do you have anything to say for yourself before you are dealt with?" Emily kept her gaze on the carpet at her feet.

  "No, Headmistress."

  "Go to the chest of drawers over there and open the middle drawer." Emily did as she was told, opening the middle drawer to see the collection of implements it contained. Her heart was pounding.

  "Bring me the long light brown cane you see there." Emily lifted out the senior cane carefully and carried it on the palms of both hands across to the Headmistress as if presenting a votive offering.

  "Place it on the desk." As Emily did so, Verily stood, cleared away her papers and placed them in the centre drawer of her desk, from which she took out two safety pins. She walked round behind Emily, lifted the hem of her skirt up to the top of her back and pinned it to her blouse behind her right and left shoulders. She then returned to the desk, picked up the senior cane and swished it very vigorously in two downward motions. It whistled brusquely and Emily watched in a fever of fearful anticipation. Verily went to stand behind her desk once more and eyed the young mistress curiously.

  "Emily," she said gently. "Are you quite sure you want this?"

  Emily met Miss Markham's inquiring gaze, pulled her shoulders back slightly and said,

  "Yes, Headmistress. I deserve it. I ... need it. Please beat me as hard as you see fit."

  Verily nodded. "Very well," she said, resuming her coldly stern voice and demeanour, "first, for your lazy and sloppy behaviour you will receive six of the best. Bend over the desk." She tapped the green leather surface with the tip of the cane. Emily stepped forward and leaned across the desk, reaching out to grasp the edge nearest Miss Markham with both hands. "You will remain in this position until I tell you you may get up, is that understood?"

  "Yes, Headmistress," said Emily, turning her head up and to the left, her eyes wide with vulnerability.

  "If at any time you let go, or try to reach back, that stroke will be repeated. Do I make myself clear?"

  "Yes, Headmistress."

  "Good. Eighteen strokes in all will be quite sufficient for our purpose, Miss Stokes. Even you will discover that you will not want any more than that, I can assure you," said Verily, moving round behind the prone figure of the younger woman. Emily watched her go and faced forward again, feeling quite frightened now. What had she let herself in for? Yet it also felt right, and she was ready to endure whatever she had agreed to.

  Verily observed the target with satisfaction. There was plenty to aim at. Emily's long and shapely legs - she was quite a tall young woman - were crowned by a very well-proportioned and well-padded bottom, clad now in white knickers that hugged its curves snugly. Even in this prone position the buttocks protruded from the top of her thighs, creating an overhang that Verily realised would require all her skill to attend to. She swished the cane again and took up position well back and to Emily's left.

  The next thirty minutes proved to be the most intense experience of young Emily Stokes' life.

  Accustomed as she was to finding her face three inches from the surface of a Headmistress' desk with her arms outstretched ahead of her and her bottom so vulnerable behind, nevertheless it had been six years since she had tasted that fiery, biting sting and she felt her heart pounding behind her breasts as they lay flattened against that smooth surface as she awaited the first stroke of the punishment she had invited. She thought for a moment of Prudence, and both cursed her and thanked her almost in the same thought.

  And then she heard the swish, and felt the impact, and the pain came home and her mind flooded with the redness again and she remembered. She remembered every stroke and every stroke was now and she knew that this was right. She wanted this, she deserved this, she needed this.

  The second and the third and the fourth bit into her soft buttocks creating lines of hot pain that sent their urgent messages racing up and down her spine. Her palms began to sweat and her breathing became shorter. Each stroke made her eyes water and, by the sixth, tear drops had overflowed her lower lids to trickle past her nose and fall away to dampen the leather desktop.

  With her thoughts and attention almost entirely taken up with absorbing the balloon of pain that enveloped her bottom, it took a moment for Emily to register Verily Markham's curt instruction.

  "Get up," she'd said.

  Groggily, slowly, Emily obeyed, pushing herself up on her hands, unpeeling herself from the surface of the desk. She hesitated to do what she wanted: to cradle her throbbing buttocks in two cooler, if sweaty, palms, in case this breeched Miss Markham's earlier instruction, so she bravely let the pain continue its anarchic rhythm and placed her arms reluctantly at her side.

  "Remove your knickers and place them on that chair." Emily looked up to see the cane pointing to the chair she'd sat on earlier. Stepping towards it caused a renewed wave of aching and stinging to assail her buttocks and she winced. By the chair, she carefully lifted her knickers away from her waist at the back and slowly unpeeled them down her buttocks, feeling their resistance to leaving the clammy surface of her striped skin. She stepped out of the slightly damp garment and placed it on the seat.

  Miss Markham had crossed the room and seemed to have brought something back.

  "Come here," heard Emily, and, turning, she saw Miss Markham standing in the middle of the room by a pouffe. It had a
base and cushion atop that were covered in the same fabric as the sofas. It was perhaps three feet square and two feet high and the Headmistress was pointing to it with the senior cane.

  Naked now at the back from her waist, where her blouse reached just to the top of her buttocks, to the white ankle socks she had chosen, Emily felt a very faint coolness on her burning bottom from the motion of the air as she made her way to the pouffe.

  Miss Markham tapped the far side with the cane. "You will arrange yourself so that your bottom is here," she said. Emily leaned over and manoeuvred herself forwards until she had reached the required position. Her upper body was slumped awkwardly down towards the carpet, resting on her elbows, whilst her legs stretched out into thin air on the other side of the pouffe.

  She heard the Headmistress move round to her right and realised that, whereas her right buttock had borne the fiercest brunt of the first six strokes, it was now the turn of her left.

  "For neglecting the most basic of your duties, Miss Stokes, you will now receive another six strokes. You will state the number of each stroke before I administer it. Is that clear?" said the Headmistress sternly. "When you are ready..."

  Emily's forehead rested on the carpet between her hands. She smelt wool and dust. She gritted her teeth and said,

  "One."

  At this stroke she gasped aloud. It sliced across the underhang of her buttocks below any of the previous strokes and blazed an agonising trail of hot stinging that made her hands clench so tightly into a fist that she felt her fingernails cutting into her palms. Her thought was simply "OOOOOW!"before she became aware that her bottom was rocking from side to side on the soft cushion and she stilled it, trying to settle more securely onto her elbows on the carpet.

  She breathed in and out quickly several times to try and gain a hold on this new line of furious stinging. It was some time before she remembered she had to say the number of the next stroke and it occurred to her ruefully how appropriate was this method of forcing her to ask for further chastisement, though she supposed Miss Markham would not be prepared to wait all night. Eager not to anger her Headmistress, she grimaced and said,