The Girls of Cropton Hall

by Stanlegh Meresith

  She paused while the Countess unscrewed her pen and Mrs Palmer reached for a notepad.

  "First, any girl with more than the equivalent of two NS marks will be given six strokes of the cane by the Headmistress, the junior cane for fourth and fifth-formers, the senior cane for sixth-formers. Any girl with two NS marks will be caned by myself - four strokes. Those with one NS and two VS marks will receive six strokes with the strap from their form teacher, where authorised; others will be sent to the Headmistress for the same punishment. Finally, girls with four VS marks will be given four strokes of the strap, those with unauthorised form teachers being sent to me." She looked around. "I hope this is clear, and we think it might have a salutary effect if this information were to be shared with all your classes."

  Again, a murmur of agreement signalled the universal satisfaction. The Headmistress spoke:

  "Thank you, Edith. Now, Monica has some words for us regarding Saturday - a big day, I believe?"

  "Yes, Headmistress, thank you," said Monica, standing, her voice booming with its accustomed vigour. "Colleagues, this Saturday the First XI take on Pickering High School for Girls, which as you know is one of our trickiest fixtures. They're a much bigger school than we are and have beaten us, home and away, in the past two seasons. However, we are in fine fettle this year, with several of our best players from last year still with us, including Bennett, our top goal scorer, and Pearson who's come through as one of the cleverest midfielders I've seen for years. We have the advantage of being at home and it should be an exciting match. I ask you to encourage all the girls in your forms to come along and cheer us on." She cast a determined look round the tables. "Thank you," she said, and sat down.

  "Thank you, Monica," said Verily. "Yes, colleagues, let's show Pickering Girls how Cropton Hall has changed on the hockey field as well, shall we?" She paused, looked at Edith for confirmation and announced, "Right - that is all for now. Keep up the good work, everyone. I believe we are beginning to stamp our authority in terms of behaviour; the next step is to impress on all the girls our expectation of academic excellence. Thank you."

  Chairs scraped and conversations started up again, the mood an excited and optimistic one. Edith made her way round the table to talk to Monica Gibson.

  "Monica, I wanted to ask what you intend to do with Thomas after her extraordinary behaviour yesterday."

  Monica looked at Margaret for a moment. The latter, who had stood up and placed her hands delicately on her bottom the moment Verily had called the meeting to an end, spoke up.

  "We've discussed this at some length, Edith - I'm Thomas' Dorm mistress as you know - and while her outburst should really preclude her from a place in the team, Monica tells me she's our strongest defender, and with such an important match coming up..."

  Edith smiled and nodded. "Yes, well, she has been punished, rather severely as you know, so I think the good of the team should come first on this occasion."

  Monica looked relieved and said, "Thank you, Edith. I'm glad you agree. I will, of course, have a word with her about keeping her frustration under control."

  "Yes," replied Edith, "that might be wise."

  Prudence Waring had been finishing some notes during this conversation, and stood now with a slight smile on her face and made her way over to the corner of the staffroom where Emily was standing by her desk looking down at her cushionless chair.

  "My room, Em? Cup of tea and a Capstan?" asked Prudence quietly.

  Emily looked relieved and nodded eagerly. The young colleagues made their way to the door.

  ---oOo---

  There was half an hour after tea before Prep began and Rachel led Susie to the quiet of their dorm to discuss plans for SWACK. Fortunately, there was nobody else there and they lay down side by side on their backs on Rachel's bed, hands under their heads, staring at the ceiling as they talked.

  "Julia said no."

  "What!" exclaimed Susan. "Oh dear! I'd have thought she'd've been really up for it."

  "Me too," responded Rachel, "but she said she's ... well, her exact words were, 'I'm too old for that kind of thing'." Rachel sighed. "Mind you, maybe it's better this way. She might've tried to take it over, you know, and it was our idea."

  "Er ... your idea, actually, Rache."

  "Yes, but you're keen too, aren't you, Susie?"

  "Yeeees," said Susan, slightly doubtfully, "but, if you don't mind, I'm going to be as good as I can for a while, 'cause I don't think I've had one day this term when I could sit down without it hurting, and I'd only got over my Dad's strapping a few days before we came back."

  Rachel moved her arm round the back of Susan's head and stroked her hair. "I'm sorry, Susie. I know you don't like it quite like I do." Susan shrugged. "And you'd better watch out with your study card after Marky's Non whatever it is today ..."

  "Too late," said Susan with a sigh.

  "What?"

  "Yes, I got another one for Biology this afternoon from Horsey."

  "Another NS?"

  Susan nodded.

  "From Miss Halsey? What for?"

  "I only got 38% in the test on Friday - but Rache, honestly, who needs to know the anatomy of a locust? We don't even have locusts in England." They both contemplated this truth as they gazed at the locust-free ceiling. "Anyway," continued Susan, "I'm for it on Friday and I'm still pretty sore from yesterday's caning - I really want to recover so Friday doesn't hurt any more than it has to."

  "So you won't want to come with me into the village tomorrow then?" asked Rachel.

  "The village? On a Wednesday? You can't!"

  "I know, but we need lots of pots of Ponds' cream and there's the hockey match on Saturday and I think our first meeting of SWACK should be on Sunday and we need something to show everyone SWACK means business."

  "But Rache, what if you get caught? You only just got whacked three times for heaven's sake! Even you can't ..."

  "Don't worry, Susie," said Rachel, turning onto her side and placing her hand on Susan's left breast. "I'll sneak in round the back of the trees and get in through the changing-room. Don't worry - I have no intention of getting caught."

  Susan turned too so they were face to face and gave her friend a sceptical look.

  "Honest! I don't!" said Rachel, laughing. "You're right - I'm quite sore enough - for a day or two anyway."

  Susan reached round and squeezed Rachel's bottom. "Not too sore though, are you?"

  "Mmm," murmured Rachel, pulling Susie close. Their mouths found each other and they embarked on another of their long, passionate, exploratory kisses.

  Eventually, lips red and glowing, they parted, slightly out of breath. Rachel turned onto her back again.

  "So, who've we got so far?" she asked. Susan, still on her side, walked her fingers up and down Rachel's middle.

  "Well, there's Middleton and Simpson - they agreed this morning - and Wilson and Wilkinson, after their strapping yesterday ..."

  "Yes," said Rachel, "that was a lucky coincidence, wasn't it? And well done, you, for hanging around and using the cream - which, by the way, Julia was very nice about, so long as we replace it if she needs any."

  "I thought she wouldn't mind. But it wasn't exactly lucky for them, Rache - you should've seen Wilko's bum: it must go purple really easily, 'cause she only got four. Mind you, Mrs P's no slouch with that strap."

  "As you know, all too well, my dear."

  "Yes," said Susan, ruefully. "How did you get on with Alice?"

  "She's in."

  "And Evans?" asked Susan.

  "Not sure yet. I'm still working on her. But she'll join. She's just a bit scared."

  "So that's ... um ..." Susan's walking fingers paused between Rachel's breasts, the index hovering uncertainly.

  "Seven of us, not counting Evans," said Rachel, doing the sum that escaped Susan.

  "Not bad. And where and when do we meet?"

  "I thought maybe Sunday at two - it's quiet then, not many mistresses about - and I've f
ound this super attic room in the west wing. It's perfect, Susie - out of the way, cosy ... just a bit dusty, that's the only snag."

  "Sounds good," said Susan. "So, Sunday it is, Sunday at two." She sighed and snuggled up into Rachel's side.

  ---oOo---

  Prudence's room on the third floor of the west wing matched Emily's in the north almost exactly, but in reverse: the fireplace was over on the right from the door, the small attic window overlooking the playing fields on the left of the far wall. But the small table with kettle, cups and milk bottle and the old sofa facing the fire were almost identical. Such quarters housed many a young teacher in boarding schools such as these. The two colleagues sat side by side on the sofa, cup of tea in one hand, Capstan Full Strength in the other, ashtray on the small coffee table before them.

  "And ... er ... how are you, Em?"

  "Oh, I'm tickety-boo," said Emily brightly. Since Sunday night she'd been walking on air - she felt as if the weight of years had been lifted from her spirits, despite or perhaps because of the lack of sleep which had still not caught up with her.

  "No ... I meant ... erm ... how's your ... backside?" asked Prudence, turning to her with a smile, a smile that Emily matched with a rueful one of her own.

  "Oh! Yes! Well, it's still incredibly sore since you ask."

  "I know," said Prudence. "I noticed how you sat down at the start of the meeting. Miss Markham noticed too actually."

  "Did she?" asked Emily, eagerly.

  "Yes - and there was just the hint of a smile on her face too. I'm sure that woman's a masochist like you are, Em. I mean, she apparently got more canings when she was a pupil here than anyone in the entire history of the school, and what other Headmistress do you know that would agree to do what she did with you?"

  "That's true," said Emily thoughtfully. "But if so, then ... who canes her? If you're right, she must be rather lonely, poor thing."

  "Mm, unlike our Misses Gibson and Dawson."

  "What?" Emily turned to Prudence in surprise.

  "Oh come on, Em, surely you've noticed?"

  "Noticed what?"

  "Well, how Margaret's been lowering herself into chairs even more delicately than you have, and how the two of them are like a pair of love-birds - they've been positively pink with joy these last few days and they can't take their eyes off each other!"

  "No, I hadn't noticed that at all," said Emily, shocked.

  "Yes. Mind you, I'm a bit of an expert at observing people." Prudence suddenly looked sad. "I wish I wasn't really - it was a skill I picked up from always being jealous and angry and separate from everyone - after my Dad died." She stared down at her cup for a moment then flicked the ash off the end of her cigarette into the ashtray.

  "Pru, I'm sorry," said Emily. "But you're different now. I am so glad we've become friends like this. I'm not scared of you like I was before. I trust you now. And you're certainly opening my eyes to new vistas ... and, ahem, new experiences - well, old experiences in new guises. And I'm so grateful for that, Pru, I really am."

  Prudence looked up and smiled.

  "Thanks, Em. I'm glad too." She paused, then opened her mouth as if to carry on, but stopped.

  "What?" asked Emily. "What is it?"

  Prudence took a deep breath. "How would you like to join Monica and Margaret?"

  "What do you mean 'join' them?" asked Emily.

  "I mean they obviously play some kind of whacking games don't they?"

  "Do they?"

  "Well how else did Margaret get her very obviously sore bottom? And you know Monica's fearsome reputation with the girls? Well, yesterday I overheard two fifth formers who're in one of her dorms saying she gave them the slipper and she didn't hit them hard at all. They couldn't believe their luck, said she must be getting soft or something."

  "So?"

  "So Monica's obviously getting her ... satisfaction elsewhere!"

  "You mean by ... with ...?"

  "Yes!"

  "Gosh!" said Emily, looking off into a space where certain fantasies were forming already in her mind's eye. "But ... I mean, that's their business, isn't it? If they're ... together, as you say ..."

  "Believe it, Em, honestly. I am absolutely sure about that, and there's no other explanation for Margaret's discomfort either. During the service on Sunday she was shifting around like nobody's business."

  "Maybe she got a bit drunk on Saturday night and ... slipped and ... and landed on her bum?" asked Emily, but the idea of the rather demure Miss Dawson doing any such thing was so unlikely they both burst out laughing.

  "Nice try, but I don't think so, do you?" asked Prudence.

  "No," said Emily, stubbing out her cigarette. "I suppose not. But how could I possibly join them? I mean, I could never ..."

  "Ask?" interrupted Prudence. "Why not? There's no harm in it. Their secret's the same as yours, so they can hardly look askance at you for asking, can they?" Emily looked unconvinced. "And if I know Monica, she'd jump at the chance of getting her teeth into a nice curvy young bottom like yours."

  "Her TEETH? No thanks!"

  "You know what I mean."

  "Yes, but honestly, Pru, you can't be serious! Really!" Emily blushed and struggled to hide the pleasure she felt at the 'nice curvy' compliment. "I mean ... well ... and what about Margaret? She won't want an interloper coming in on her ... her ... arrangement, will she? If what you say is true, they're in love, just the two of them."

  "Yes, I know," said Prudence, "but they're so happy right now, I think they might just be generous enough to share the fun. And Em ...?"

  "Yes?"

  Prudence paused for several seconds. "I want to come too." She leaned forward and stubbed out her cigarette. She had started to blush.

  "You, Pru? But ... I didn't think you ... I thought you didn't really..."

  "No, Em, not like you. I'd like to ... I'm kind of similar to ... " She was a bright red now. "Dammit, Emily, I dream about whacking ... whacking nice female bottoms, like Monica does - that's how I can tell what's going on. She has that gleam in her eye. I've seen it sometimes when someone's walking by and she looks at their bottom. There now, I've said it, and you'll probably think me a terrible person."

  Prudence didn't really think that; she suspected in fact that Emily would be quite sympathetic, but she felt, in her embarrassment, that she needed to pre-empt any condemnation. She was fishing for acceptance.

  "Gosh, Pru, I didn't know! You didn't say!" Now Emily was embarrassed on her friend's behalf. "No, of course I don't think you're a terrible person at all. Far from it, I ... I ... I'm pleased for you, I mean, if you want me to be pleased?" she asked uncertainly. Prudence turned and faced Emily. She reached out for her hands and gazed into her eyes.

  "Thank you, Em. Yes, I'd like you to be pleased. But I do feel a bit guilty about it, you see." She paused and looked over at the window. "Do you remember that first staff meeting, before term started?"

  Emily looked unsure. "Yes," she said, "sort of ..."

  "Do you remember I made a bit of a fool of myself and everyone gave me rather angry looks?"

  "No, I don't remember that. What did you do?"

  "Well, I rather impertinently asked Miss Markham when it would be that we ordinary Mistresses would be allowed to use corporal punishment as well."

  "Oh! Yes, I do remember that," said Emily, chuckling. Prudence released her hands and sat back.

  "Looking back on it," she said, "I can't believe I was so foolish - I mean, what a give-away! And if that's the way I feel, they shouldn't let me within a mile of a girl's bottom, should they? I mean, not the pupils anyway ... how could I be trusted not to just whack them because it gives me pleasure?"

  "Oh, Pru, I'm sure you wouldn't do that. The very fact that you're saying this shows you wouldn't - it shows you're aware of what's right and what's not."

  "Thanks. I think you're right, but it still worries me."

  They sat in silence for a while. Eventually Prudence reached for another
cigarette and said,

  "So, are you up for it then?"

  "Up for what?" asked Emily.

  "Asking Monica and Margaret if we can join them," she said, striking a match and lighting her Capstan.

  "Pru, I ... I don't think I could, honestly."

  "What? Ask them, or join them?" Prudence blew out a smooth stream of smoke. "If I asked and they said yes, would you come along?"

  "Gosh, well, if you asked and ... they said yes, then ... yes, I think that would be ... fun. But how are you going to ask? I mean you can't just walk up to Monica and say, 'Emily and I want to come and play whacking games with you and Margaret', can you?"

  "No, but I'll think of some way, don't worry. I'm good at getting what I want, Em - sorry to say it but I am."

  "Well maybe that's not such a bad thing, Pru," said Emily comfortingly, a little worried by her friend's self-deprecation. Prudence didn't reply. She sat and smoked, staring at the unlit gas fire. After a pause, she said,

  "Em, if we do go together, if we join them ... how would you feel about ... me whacking you?" She turned and looked Emily squarely in the eye. Emily looked away and laughed awkwardly.

  "Well ... that could be ... very nice, Pru, thank you. Yes." She looked back. "I think I'd like that - well, I'd hate it of course, but I'd like it too ... you know ..." Her eyes twinkled with the beginnings of delight as yet another vista opened before her. Prudence examined her closely with a curious smile.

  "Yes, I think I do know," she said thoughtfully, adding, "We're strange aren't we?"

  Emily laughed, easily now. "We are that, Prudence Waring. Indeed we are, very strange."