The Great Escape (MF/ffffffff)

Guyspencer Home Page
© Guyspencer 2010

Chapter 1 "The Escape & the Price"
Chapter 2 "The Procedure"
Chapter 3 "Christy"
Chapter 4 "Becky and Sara"
Chapter 5 "Similarities and Differences"
Chapter 6 "Ann and Brenda"
Chapter 7 "Susan"
Chapter 8 "Susan and the Strap"

Chapter 1 (The "Escape" & the Price)
All seventeen girls looked at me somberly. They all knew the Berkshire School’s rules and knew full well that they had broken them. Further, they all knew that the school’s rigid set of rules gave me no choice. Under the circumstances, the rules demanded that each girl receive a bare-bottom spanking, and as Principal it was to be my job to deliver them. The only discretion that the rules allowed me would be to decide the implement and the severity. Though I carefully kept a stern expression on my face for their benefit, an inward smile greeted the old cliché that popped into my head unbidden, “it’s a tough job, but someone has to do it.”

The Berkshire Girls School of Dance can be described as a tiny, highly-selective, private, fully-accredited upper-level girl’s residential high school of the arts. I am its Principal. Mrs. Amanda Miller was the founder and chief benefactor of the Berkshire Foundation, which finances and runs the school. She conceived the idea of forming what would become the nation’s most prestigious residential dance program for high school age girls. She named our school after the magnificent green New England hills that surround the school’s large private campus. Mrs. Miller lived long enough to see her vision succeed beyond her dreams. Berkshire school’s alumni are well known throughout the dance community. Virtually all of them end up being accepted into Juilliard and other top-level college conservatory dance programs. Many even go on to become famous. I could name names, but we are getting away from the story... Suffice it to say that Mrs. Miller hired me and personally trained me before her death. Now I feel obligated to continue the program’s “disciplined environment” exactly how she visualized and established it

The 2-year high school program enrolls only ten juniors (11th graders) each year, most of them stay on for a full two years and graduate with a high school diploma. Because of normal attrition, the school body typically consists of around 17 or 18 girls. Competition for those few slots is fierce, so we get to choose our girls from the “best of the best”. One of my jobs is to evaluate hundreds of applications and to sit through dozens of auditions for each of those 10 annual openings. As a result, all of our girls arrive as already very accomplished dancers and in near-perfect physical condition. Our job is to make them even better.

From each graduating class, we choose one student to return the next year to be the leader of our student body and to be sort of a “graduate student”. Called the “lead student” she sleeps in the dorm with the other students and serves as dorm leader, as a junior counselor, and as our “eyes and ears” in the student body. Considered a student and still subject to all school rules like any other student, the Lead Student is expected to continue her dance training at the school and to take certain courses through a local Community College. This year’s Lead Student is Susan Wilcox. .

I imagine that today’s incident will be described in the school’s future lore as “the great escape”, because that is exactly what happened. Our campus security is excellent, but the girls somehow found a chink in our armor. All but two of them snuck out last night and walked all the way to town. The remaining two girls, Ann & Brenda, stayed behind to act as lookouts and rear guards.

The call from the police had bounced us out of bed at 11:30 PM. The Police Sergeant said that no law was being broken, but they thought I should know that there were suddenly a lot of young girls in town. They guessed correctly that they were from Berkshire. My next phone call was to the dorm, Brenda answered the phone.

“No” she said with a slight quaver in her voice, “everything is normal here”. Not satisfied, I asked to talk to Susan, but was told that she was “in the shower”.

Since I and my wife Martha live on campus, it was just a few minutes before we were dressed and knocking on the dorm door. Finally Ann cracked the door. Her protests did little good; we pushed our way in, and soon confirmed that we had 15 girls missing. When their miserable attempt at deception failed, Ann & Brenda fell back on false loyalty to their fellow students and clammed up totally. We put the two in the custody of a staff member and drove the school’s van to town. It is a small town, so we had little problem finding our escaped charges. 15 sets of eyes got large as we walked into the loud, crowded, tavern. Knowing immediately that the game was up, the girls quickly extracted themselves from the crowd and meekly piled into the van. Little was said on the way back to the campus.

I told Susan, “Get everyone to bed young lady! I expect you all up, showered and dressed at the regular time in the morning. We will have our usual breakfast and Saturday training session, and then we will all have a long talk about this”. She nodded guiltily, and obeyed.

All too soon, it was Saturday morning and 17 young ladies were waiting for my verdict. I stood in front of the group with my wife & Assistant, Martha, by my side: “This was an incredibly stupid thing to do”, I started. “Did you really expect that you could do this without at least one of 17 girls letting the truth slip out? Even if we did not hear about you from the police, there is no way you could have gotten away with this”.

Susan answered for the group, “I guess we just didn’t think Mr. Daniels”.

“OK”, I said, “this is what is going to happen; there will shortly be 17 sore bottoms connected to 17 very sorry girls. You are all familiar with the Berkshire rules, you have all read them, had them explained to you, and signed them. You know that if you violate a red-letter rule, you WILL be spanked; right?”

I saw a few tears, and heard a sniffle or two, but 17 heads finally nodded in agreement. “…And you all know your unauthorized absence from your dorm violates a red-letter rule right?” Again, 17 heads nodded. “…And Ann & Brenda, you know that a deliberate lie is also on the red-letter list right?” Two faces blushed scarlet, looked at the ground, and then nodded their reluctant agreement. “…So it looks like your Principal is going to be a busy guy today right?” All 17 girls shuffled, looked down, and generally appeared miserable.

I went on to explain to them that 14 of them would be getting very energetic hand spankings, (actually about the minimum punishment that the girls could hope for under the circumstances.) Then I dropped the hammer on the other three; “Ann & Brenda, you probably think that you are in less trouble because you did not leave the campus, but you are wrong. You deliberately lied, and then you both withheld information that could have helped us get your friends back to safety quicker. For that, you two will be getting the full treatment with the hairbrush. Both girls gaped in speechless horror.

“Susan,” I continued, “you are guilty of the gravest misconduct of anyone here. First of all, you are the person whom I left in charge, and you betrayed that trust by leading all of your classmates right into trouble. You, of all people, should have known better!” Susan looked at her feet, tears starting to flow. “Susan, you will be getting the same hand spanking as the other 14 girls who followed you to town.” She looked up in surprise, but then I continued… “That will prepare your bottom for the strapping you will then receive.” The girl seemed to wilt, but managed to accept her fate with grace. Finally she found her voice, “Are…are you going to fire me as Lead Student?” she managed to ask.

“We will discuss your future with the school when you come to the office to receive your punishment” I responded. “Until then, you will still act as Lead Student.. For the next several hours, you will keep your girls busy in the gym or doing homework. As we call for them, you will send them one-by-one to my office for their spankings. Take volunteers first, and then the decision who to send is totally up to you, except that you will be last, and Ann & Brenda will receive their punishments just before you.”

Chapter 2 (The "Procedure")

Susan seemed to gather herself, nodded forlornly, and then turned to sadly address the group; “I’m really sorry I got you girls into this. Anyone wish to get it over with first?” Three hands popped up, but Christy, a first-year girl seemed to be the quickest. Susan made a quick decision; “OK Christy, you’re first, and then Becky, and then Sara. When Sara goes I will ask for the next batch of volunteers.”

And so it was decided. We walked young Christy back to our office. By the time we got there, her initial bravery had dissolved and she was a mess.

I know that none of you readers want to increase Christy’s mental anguish by delaying her spanking, but I really do need to stop this story for a bit to explain our spanking procedure:

Mrs. Miller taught us herself. Even though she is gone now, Martha and I feel bound to follow her discipline procedure exactly. Besides being my wife, Martha serves as the school’s nurse, dietitian, and Assistant Principal. To avoid any whiff of scandal or suspicion, (even though it is not uncommon for me to see my girls in all stages of undress), I never allow myself behind closed doors with any student without a witness present. When one of our girls needs a spanking, (as typically happens once or twice a week) Martha normally serves as my witness. In my absence, Martha has the appropriate skills and authority to deliver a creditable spanking. In that case, she chooses a female staff member to witness.

Before Martha and I were hired, Mrs. Miller herself served as the school’s Dean, personally dealing with all discipline issues, including all spankings. By the time Martha and I came into the picture, she had become an indisputably expert spanker. She had me observe her technique for several months before allowing me to take over those duties. Before that day, she insisted that Martha and I have recent knowledge of what a spanking really feels like. That’s right! She made both of us go through the entire procedure as if we were students. One at a time she took us across her lap and hand spanked our bare bottoms red! Before it was over, I had real tears in my eyes, and Martha openly bawled. In later weeks, Mrs. Miller also treated my bared bottom to a full measure of the school’s two authorized spanking implements, the hairbrush and the strap. It took my bottom several days to recover from each “lesson”. It was an excruciating experience, and I will admit that I was not entirely brave about the whole thing. I think that Mrs. Miller’s reason for doing so was to ensure that I understood just how severe a punishment anything beyond a hand spanking can be. It was her way to be sure that I would only use the hairbrush and the strap when absolutely necessary. Her strategy worked. Months go by between uses of that hairbrush on any of my girls, and sometimes years go by without any use of the school’s strap. While that unpleasant experience with the hairbrush and strap was mandatory for me, Martha wisely chose to decline those two “lessons”, and so she is authorized to deliver only plain hand spankings.

The school’s regulations are very clear about spankings. All spankings are delivered to the bare bottom with shoes, pants, and panties totally removed. The girls have the right to receive all spankings in private, (except for the required witness), though the particulars of any girl’s “crime” and punishment are announced to the student body.

Mrs. Miller stressed that a proper punishment must always be a three-step procedure.
First, we get the girl in our office, where she gets our undivided attention. She then must correctly point out the rule(s) that she violated and explain exactly how she violated the rule and what she should have done differently. Having done that, the girl is entitled to one last hearing. She is free to offer any explanations for her behavior or ask any questions, (though there is no recorded case of any girl successfully talking her way out of a spanking at that point.). Here we never lecture; we find it best to make the girl do most of the talking.

That done, we instruct the girl to remove everything below her waist to prepare for the second part of the procedure; the spanking itself. Except for the rare strapping, spankings are always delivered in the traditional OTK position. In the case of a strapping, the girl is often also required to remove her top, but not her bra. Our spankings tend to use more spanks, rather than harder spanks. Our goal is to stimulate every possible nerve ending so that the girl’s bottom feels like it is literally on fire, but to do so without causing muscle trauma that may hamper the girl’s dancing practice.

The third part of the procedure, the aftermath, is actually the most important and can take the longest time. Since we have “torn the girl down” we must now calm her down, dry her tears, and build her back up. We must be sure that she has learned the proper lesson from her punishment, but we must also assure that she leaves the room with her self-esteem and self-confidence intact. Timid people seldom make great artists.

An entire punishment “doorknob to doorknob” seldom takes less than 30 minutes. As Martha and I walked Christy towards our office, I did the math and realized that this was going to be a long day.

Chapter 3 "Christy"

We unlocked the door to the office, and escorted the frightened young girl inside. While I pulled the girl’s file and purposefully placed a chair in the middle of the room, Martha assumed her nurse role and quietly & efficiently quizzed the girl in case she needed a bathroom visit or had any other physical issues.

My Principal’s office is a comfortable place that was originally built for Mrs. Miller. She had tastefully, but expensively, decorated it with her own funds before she retired and installed me in her place. Among other amenities, it sports a large leather-covered desk, a private bath, a leather couch against one wall, and two sturdy armless chairs that are just as good for delivering spankings as they are for seating guests. Early in my employ, I painfully discovered that when you bend over the arm of that couch, your bottom is presented at exactly the right height and angle for a good strapping. Today, I would make use of the armless chairs as well as that couch arm.

I didn’t remember ever spanking Christy before, and a quick look at her file validated my memory. Noting Christy’s unease, a suspicion formed in my mind: “Christy,” I asked, “How often were you spanked at home?”

“Never “the girl blubbered miserably “this is my first time.”

I turned to the copy of the school’s rules in Christy’s file. Sure enough, the document had been signed by Christy and both of her parents. “Well” I replied, “Your parents don’t seem to have anything against spanking, this document explains our disciplinary procedure; they signed it, as did you.”

“Yes sir” the girl explained with a tremor in her voice, “they signed it because I begged them to. I really wanted to learn dance here…I still do”

With that cleared up, I explained to Christy that she was not the first girl who had received her first spanking in this room. I assured her that all of them had left with sore bottoms, but all had easily survived the experience and were better people for it. Her eyes wet with tears, the girl nodded her understanding. “Don’t expect me to go easy on you just because this is your first spanking” I warned, “that wouldn’t be fair to the other girls, but under the circumstances I will be a bit more patient with you.” Grasping at that tiny straw, the girl favored me with a look of trusting gratitude.

It only took a minute to conclude the formality of her explaining to me what she had done wrong, and what she should have done differently. As required, she pointed out the applicable rule that she had broken. Sure enough, that particular rule was printed in red type…a “red letter” rule that required a spanking as punishment.

“OK Christy” I said in a businesslike manner, “It is time to prepare yourself for your spanking.”

She blushed. “You mean?” she stammered.

“Yes Christy” I replied firmly, “Remove your shoes, your pants, and your panties so we can have this over.” The girls often practice quick costume changes for their performances, so Christy’s shoes and the school-uniform sweatpants came off fairly automatically, but the panties seemed to present a mental obstacle to the girl. Having already vowed to be patient, I simply waited her out. After searching my eyes for any reprieve and seeing none, she finally groaned, turned her back to me, lowered her cotton panties, and stepped out. When she turned around, she had both hands pulling down the bottom hem of her top, but she did not quite succeed in hiding the lower part of her pubis. Doubtless many would disagree, but Mrs. Miller had instructed us to ignore this when it happened. With her usual logic she had told us “It’s a spanking, not a peep show! If our girls want to show a bit of modesty by covering their private parts, who are we to stop them?”

I sat down in the straight-back chair that I had previously placed in the middle of the room, crooked my finger at the girl, and directed her to stand at my right side. Again there was a delay, but finally the girl obeyed. “Lift the hem of your top up above your bellybutton, and bend over my lap” I ordered. I politely turned my head away so that I would not be staring at the girl’s privates, and helped her into position when I felt the pressure of her leaning on my right leg. With just a bit of guidance, she found exactly the right position, her left hand on the floor, her bare bottom up high and her feet just off the floor. After carefully folding the back of her top out of the way, I reached for her right arm and trapped it in the small of her back.

Moments later, she was wailing and bucking as I lit a fire in her bottom. Taking my time and doing a careful job, I spanked her dual mounds to a perfect shade of red, and then extended the blush around her right side, almost to her hip, and then down both legs, almost to the backs of her knees. I even pushed her farther out on my knee to expose that little bit of her left bun that had been protected against my stomach. I was determined to not leave a single square inch of her bottom unspanked.

Then I paused to evaluate my work.

I am not made of stone! I am way too professional, and way too much in love with my wife to ever touch one of my students improperly, but I am both a human and a male heterosexual, so I would be lying if I claimed to be totally immune to my student’s charms. Like it or not, spanking these girls always stimulates certain hard-wired, primitive, areas of my male brain. There is simply no avoiding the sight, the feel and even the fragrance of these nubile young creatures as they lay bare-assed across my lap for correction.. That is just the way things are!

As I pause, Christy continued to writhe in my lap, causing me to guiltily notice the beginnings of a familiar tingle in my groin. I concentrated for a moment, struggling to fill my brain with images of something…anything… anything that involves neither this nearly naked girl nor my groin. Fortunately the moment passed and the potentially embarrassing inflation seemed to abate. It has not always been so. Sometimes I have been trapped in my spanking chair after a spanking, unable to stand up without showing myself. Understanding as she is, Martha always smoothly takes charge at moments like that, comforting the sobbing freshly-spanked student and helping her get dressed, but she never does so without leering at me behind the student’s back.

It took several seconds for Christy to calm down enough to notice that she was no longer being spanked. Finally she looked back hopefully. “We have just gotten a good start here young lady” I informed her. “I need to change your position a bit so that I can continue. Open up your legs!” Doubtless, the poor girl had heard enough spanking stories from the other girls so that she knew what was about to happen. She started crying loudly, but did spread her legs slightly. “Much wider” I ordered. This time she finally obeyed, spreading her legs wide enough to expose her tender inner thighs for chastisement.

Without delay, and trying to avoid the view of Christy’s inner delights, I went right to work spanking her inner thighs red. The girl showed her appreciation of my efforts with a lusty wail. As usual, I colored the unfortunate left thigh to a nice even hue, but it is very awkward to do a really good job on the right one. I just did the best I could. Twice, her legs started to close, but I ordered them back open. Reluctantly, she always obeyed.

Now came one last pause. After allowing Christy to close her legs, I took a moment to evaluate my handiwork. In a low voice, I reminded Christy exactly why she was being spanked while punctuating my remarks with moderate swats to a few pale areas.

Often I end the spanking here, but I intended today’s punishments to be especially memorable, so I informed Christy that we were not quite through. “OK Christy” I said, “You’re doing fine so far, but this last part is really intended to sting so that this lesson will really stick with you”. I tightened my grip on her wrist and pushed town a bit to keep her safely pinned in place, and unleashed a volley of perhaps 12 hard spanks to the fullest part of her buttcheeks, She kicked and shrieked “NOOOOOOO” before dissolving into total incoherency. I completed the spanking by shifting to lighter, but still stinging spanks and spending the next 60 seconds re-spanking every place I had visited before, except for her inner thighs. This final bit increased the redness of her bottom by at least two shades. I looked up at Martha and received a nod of approval.

I held Christy in place across my lap for perhaps two minutes to give her a chance to return to reality, and then I helped the still-bawling girl back up to her feet, holding her shoulders until I was sure that she would be steady on her feet. Both of her hands shot back to her bottom and she performed a lewd “spanked brat” dance right in front of me, her modesty long forgotten.

Working together, it took us about ten minutes to get Christy calmed down, hugged, and finally dressed, and then a few minutes after that to reassure her that all girls occasionally do “dumb” things like what got her spanked today. The important thing was to learn from her mistakes. Finally the girl, relieved that her punishment was behind her, was allowed to go back to the dorm, where the other girls would doubtless want to know the details of her punishment, and would want to view the “damage” to get some idea what they were in for themselves.

Chapter 4 "Becky and Sara"

As I picked up the phone and dialed the 4-digit number for the dorm, I looked at my watch. Christy’s punishment had taken over 40 minutes! A bit of math told me that my current plan wouldn’t work, I would be spanking girls well into the night before I got the job done!

Susan answered the phone on the third ring, and surprised me by offering an unsolicited solution to my problem. “Several of the girls seem to want to pair up to face their punishment together with a friend. Is that possible Mr. Daniels? …because that way the rest of us won’t have to wait all day for our spankings.” she explained hopefully and a bit breathlessly.

I instantly saw the possibilities; we could deal with two girls at once, with Martha doing half of the spanking. “I suppose that would be OK” I said (as if I were doing some sort of favor) “but don’t force anyone into that arrangement; everyone still has the right to a private punishment unless they freely choose otherwise.”

“OK, I will be sure to remind them about that, but everyone seems to like the two-by-two idea,” she assured me.

“OK” I instructed, send the first two now, and in exactly 20 minutes send two more with instructions to wait in the outer office. That way we can take them in just as soon as we are ready for them.

“Yes sir” Susan replied, “Becky and Sara are on their way, and I will have two more waiting in 20 minutes”.

60 seconds later, just as I had filled Martha in on the new plan, we heard a timid knock on the office door. I opened the door and allowed two somber girls into the office. This was not entirely a new procedure. Occasionally, when two friends get into trouble at the same time, we would offer them the option of simultaneous spankings. Usually they agree, perhaps for mutual support through their punishment, or perhaps just because it gets their punishment over with quicker, I have never figured it out.

Becky and Sara were both second-year students. Like most second year students, they both had already accumulated a few entries in their punishment records, so they were no strangers to our punishment procedure. In just a few minutes, the preliminaries were accomplished, and I had instructed the girls to remove their shoes, sweatpants, and panties. They stood before us shivering just a bit, their clothes in two little piles near a wall. Martha and I sat on two straight-back chairs about four feet apart. I pointed Becky to Martha’s lap and crooked a finger at Sara. Soon the room rang with the sounds of two vigorous spankings.

It was quickly clear that the girl’s previous spankings had given their bottoms no special immunity. Both girls were soon kicking and squalling with impressive urgency. Martha and I both followed the pattern I set earlier with Christy’s spanking, turning their entire bottoms crimson red, but trying to leave little or no bruising., then the thigh spanking, followed by particularly vigorous volley of spanks to the fullness of their bottoms, followed by a few minutes of lighter “touch-up” spanks. Vowing not to get careless and not to rush things, we gave both girls’ bottoms a full measure of attention.

Just a few minutes later, the job was done. Martha continued on for a bit after I was done with Sara, giving Becky an extra ten or twenty spanks. Martha did not want the students to assume that they were going to get an easier spanking just because they ended up over her lap rather than mine, so she always gave a bit extra.. Since Sara and Becky were both second-year students and veterans of Berkshire’s discipline procedures, you would think that getting them calmed down and dressed would be an easy job, but that was not to be. Of course, both girls did the usual post-spanking “dance”, but Sara turned out to be a bit of a drama queen, needing much more comforting than I would have thought necessary before we got her tears dried and her clothes back on her.

By the time we were able to send those two chastened girls back to their dorm, the next two girls had been waiting outside for over 20 minutes. We found them both already in tears, probably because they had heard the worst of Sara and Becky’s punishments, and now knew exactly what they were in for. It must have been hell for them, knowing that they were next.

Chapter 5 "Similarities and Differences"

Even though we were careful to give each girl her full due, I must admit that there is no way that I can remember the details of each of the hand spankings that Martha and I delivered over the next few hours. Besides, a full account of each of 17 spankings would make for a boring story. That said, there are several interesting similarities and differences that we can discuss in general:

First, because of Berkshire’s requirements and selection procedure, all of our students tend to have remarkable similarities. Of course, they are all girls, and since we are a 2-year senior high school program, their ages tend to be tightly grouped; mostly 15, 16 & 17 years old. They are all dancers of near-professional quality, so it stands to reason that we tend to get girls with petite, bouncy, slim, & muscular frames. As usual, they were all outwardly dressed the same in the school’s special logo sweat suits that we use as a sort of school uniform. These suits, comfortable as pajamas and sporting the school’s colors & logo, turned out to be a surprise hit for us, we sell them by the thousands to hopeful young girls through the school’s web store, bringing the school welcome income.

Of course, regardless of outward similarities, each one of our students is an individual and, in her own way, an artist. One small way we allow our girls to express their individuality is by leaving the small detail of undergarments to the discretion of each girl (and presumably, her parents.) Because athletic training is a regular part of their day, white microfiber athletic style panties are popular, but many of the girls prefer panties that are much briefer, daintier, and sometimes more lacy. This can make for interesting viewing back stage at costume change time, but today it made little difference because all panties came right off.

Since it was early spring and there was a definite chill in the air, a few of the girls showed up wearing their fleecy school-logo hooded jackets over their sweats. Two girls that hail from a warmer climate even sported long underwear. Of course, all of that extra stuff came off.

It was no surprise that Martha found all of the girls in good enough health to take their spankings. Three of the girls happened to be wearing feminine pads that day, which obviously made removing their panties questionable. Martha made a quick detour into our private lavatory with each of those girls, and always emerged moments later with the problem solved. I would never ask Martha what she did, but I assume that in each case she either determined that the girl’s condition was sufficiently light to forgo the pad long enough to receive her spanking, or they substituted a tampon for the pad. These intimate details were kept private, just between the females. For many-many reasons, Martha is indispensible to me and to the efficient operation of the school.

Of course, the girls tend to vary widely in how they react to their pending punishment. Most of the girls accepted their fate as gracefully as possible, but some actually argued on various grounds that they should not be spanked. Others tried to buck the odds by begging for a reprieve or bargaining for a lesser punishment. Of course, their efforts were just wasted time, but it is our firm policy to allow them to “speak their piece” before their punishment. To some, the loss of their panties seemed no big deal, but others made a considerable drama over their final unveiling. Before their spankings, most girls tried to cover their nakedness either with their hands or by pulling down the hems of their tops, but strangely, none of them thought to cover themselves in those first tearful moments after their spankings.

Of course, there was a big difference in the way the girls responded to the spanking itself. While nobody made it through their spanking without serious tears, some fought tears and barely sobbed, others bawled freely and apparently without shame; and inevitably, we had several screamers. At the same time, some were able to stay in place with little or no help, while others kicked and twisted with amazing strength. In the end, all the girls came for their punishment when told to do so, and then with little or no drama prepared themselves and then put themselves into position for their spanking. Under the circumstances, I could hardly have asked for more.

You would think that Martha and I would be worn out after all of those hours of spankings, but remember that we were only doing actual spankings for a few minutes at a time with plenty of opportunity to catch our breath in between. After dealing with several more pairs of girls, we finally, had only had three more punishments to go, but those would be a bit different!

Chapter 6 "Ann and Brenda")

Remember when I told you that my boss (before she died and left the school her millions) made sure that my own bottom received a good (actually, bad) taste of both her hairbrush and the school’s strap. I have never had anything hurt so much in my life! As a result, I only occasionally use the hairbrush on my students, and almost never resort to the strap. Today is unprecedented; I have never before used the hairbrush more than once in the same week, yet today I have to do it twice. What those two “lookouts”, Ann & Brenda, did was clearly willful. Most of the other girls just succumbed to peer pressure and “followed the crowd” into trouble, but those two girls who stayed behind acted willfully and flagrantly. They lied to our faces, and then made things worse my refusing to say what they clearly knew. Usually I only resort to the hairbrush in cases of repeated disobedience, but in this case I felt that I had to choose a punishment for these two girls that clearly contrasted with the punishment I gave the rest of the group. So today for the first time ever, I will deliver two hairbrush spankings in one session.

As we opened the door to let the last two hand-spanked girls out of the office, Ann & Brenda were waiting outside, both wearing appropriately apprehensive expressions on their faces. I waved them in, and turned to extract their files from the drawer. A quick glance told me that I had spanked both of them before, but only hand spankings. Today would be different.

As usual, Martha assumed her nurse role, and asked the girls a few quiet questions. Then my detail-oriented wife/assistant called for a slight delay in the proceedings for a minor detail I hadn’t thought of. She said, “Before we get started, I need to have these girls help me make up some cold packs. In just a bit, we will have three bruised bottoms to treat.” Martha took the girls to her tiny infirmary next to the office. It must have been a sobering experience for the girls, preparing first-aid for their own (soon-to-be) spanked bottoms, but at this point they seemed to have little to say.

Finally, we resumed our usual pre-spanking procedure. When we got to the part when I asked if they had anything to say for themselves, Ann took a deep breath, looked at her partner-in-crime, and launched into a defense that the two had obviously been rehearsing. Her main point was that her and Brenda had not left the school grounds, and therefore were less guilty than the rest, so a hairbrush spanking would be excessive and unfair. While I try to avoid pre-spanking lectures on the theory that the student is unlikely to be listening, I seized the opportunity to tell them how I felt about students who willfully lie to school staff, and who disobey orders. I tried to keep the emotion out of my voice and stick to the bare facts, but when I was done, both girls were sobbing. They had apparently come into the room with high hopes of at least having their punishment reduced to a hand spanking, but now they knew why their argument (well reasoned as it was) would not carry the day.

Now that the girls fully understood why they were had earned the hairbrush, it was time to get on with the job. Walking to my desk, I opened the lower right drawer and produced the hairbrush. Two sets of eyes got big. “Get yourselves ready girls” I said, “you know what to do”. There was a bit of sniffling, but both girls did as they were told, removing their shoes, sweat pants, and finally their panties. They stood before us wearing nothing but their bras and tops.

Martha spoke up, her voice firm: “Before we get started ladies remember that you both can plan on sore bottoms for the next few days, but that won’t excuse you from any school activities. It will hurt a bit, but we expect to see you both at physical training tomorrow morning. Don’t even think about coming to me to for a medical excuse!” Both girls nodded solemnly, they already knew the school’s rules in that regard.

There was one more detail to be worked out; “We only have one hairbrush” I said, “Do I have a volunteer to be first?” With perfect timing, both girls hesitated momentarily to think through the possibilities, and then both raised their right hands in unison. I pulled a coin from my pocket, “OK, heads it’s Ann, tails its Brenda; fair enough?” Both heads nodded unenthusiastically. I flipped the coin and let it drop to the floor in front of them. Both girls looked down anxiously to read the coin’s decision

I could tell by the look on Brenda’s face that it had landed tales-up.

I sat in my chair, laid the hairbrush on the floor and waved Brenda onto my side. Ann looked on awkwardly. “Ann” I said, I don’t think you want to stand there and watch your friend get spanked, so go lay across Mrs. Daniel’s lap. She will give you your warm-up spanking, and then, when I am done with Brenda, I will finish your punishment with the hairbrush” With an obvious lack of enthusiasm for the idea, Ann walked over and obediently stood next to Martha’s right hip.

Without further instructions, Brenda raised the front of her top and lowered herself into position. As I had done with all the other girls, I folded the back of her top up out of the way, adjusted her bare bottom to just the right position, then immobilized her right hand in the small of her back. A quick glance showed me that Martha was giving Ann the same treatment.

What we proceeded to give the girls over the next few minutes was really a lot more than a mere “warm-up spanking”, it was really the same hand spanking that we had given to the other girls, less the hardest, final “finishing” spanks to the center of their buttocks and “sit spots”. Of course, we gave their inner thighs, (which I don’t touch with the hairbrush) a full measure of attention. As expected, the girls wailed their appreciation.

It turned out to be good that I was the one who had gotten Brenda, because she was a handful, squirming and trying to twist her bottom out of range. Some girls just have a lower tolerance for pain, and perhaps a bit less natural self-control, so I didn’t believe that her struggles were willful. Several times I paused to use a gruff voice to order her back into position, and each time she seemed to comply with the best of her ability.

Finally I paused, picked up the hairbrush, and trapped Brenda’s two legs with my right leg. I wanted this to be a lesson to last her a lifetime, so I made sure that I had her full attention. It took less than a minute for the girl to quiet down, sniffle a bit, and finally look back. I had already put a powerful burn in her butt with my hand, so she never really did stop squirming. “Tell me why you are being punished.” I ordered. The girl managed to choke out something about “lying and disobeying”. I decided that was a good enough explanation, so I instructed her to “hold that thought in her head” while I completed her punishment. By now, the girl had finally realized what was coming, because she started to bawl anew.

The whole job with the hairbrush took less than two minutes. Brenda’s bottom bounced and wriggled as that formidable tool did its work. Naturally, the girl shrieked at the top of her lungs as her bottom and sit spots quickly turned a sort of mottled crimson. Even though she was probably struggling with her full strength, I kept her legs well pinned down, and there was really nothing she could do to get her bare bottom out of range. By now, the poor girl was obviously a mess, crying and sort of coughing at the same time. Just having your head upside-down for that length of time is very uncomfortable for some people, adding tears and a runny nose to that mixture just make things worse. I felt sorry for Brenda, but I had a job to do and it was not quite done.

Martha had purposely lagged behind on Ann’s warm-up spanking, not wanting to finish before I did, so as I worked on Brenda’s bottom, I also became dimly aware of increased action and noise from that direction. I stopped to evaluate my work just as Martha was giving Ann’s bottom the last few finishing touches.

It took at least 30 seconds for the color of the girl’s bottom to stabilize so that I could properly evaluate the damage. There was, of course, no broken skin, but I could tell from the dark and mottled coloring of her bottom that there would be light bruising and moderate lingering pain that would reinforce the intended lesson for several days to come. Further, the sight of those marks was sure to impress Brenda’s dorm mates and serve as an object lesson for the entire student body.

After a few words to Brenda reminding her of the reason for her punishment, I ended her ordeal with four last deliberate strokes of the hairbrush; one to the center of each buttock, and one to each sit spot. The girl howled anew, and then clearly exhausted, quickly settled down to a heavy sob, though still writhing a bit from the sting in her bottom. Carefully I released the girl and spoke a few words to her, telling her that her punishment was over and she was forgiven, When I finally began receiving coherent replies, I asked her if she was ready to get up.

Still blubbering, she nodded and started to push herself off my lap. I cautiously supported her until I was sure that she would be steady on her feet. It looked like she might be OK, then the girl reached back with both hands in an ill-conceived attempt to extinguish the fire in her bottom. This action just served to re-irritate thousands of nerve ends, and cause the girl to nearly collapse in renewed tears. I grabbed her in what was intended to be both a comforting hug and a steadying support to keep her from falling. As I did, I looked past her and saw Ann. She was now up off of Martha’s lap, and was rubbing her stinging bottom and doing an unhappy little prance as she awaited her turn across my lap.

Reminded that my duties for the day were not yet over, I handed Brenda over to Martha and sat back down in my chair, picking up the hairbrush purposely. As if in a trance, Ann took the three steps that put her next to my right knee. As I had done with Brenda earlier, I tried to talk Ann through the reasons for her spanking, but I couldn’t really make any progress. The girl was so nervous and fearful that her teeth were actually chattering. She looked at that hairbrush I was holding like a trapped mouse looks at a snake. After two fruitless attempts at getting her to talk, I finally gave up. I simply guided her between my legs and then bent her over my left leg, using my right leg to trap her calves into place.

Even that did not go well. As Ann bent over my leg, she had forgotten to raise her top. So much of it was trapped under her that it stubbornly covered the top 1/3 of her bottom. This would not do! I tugged at it a bit, but finally put her up on her feet for a moment, raised the hem of her top almost up to her bra, and then urged the girl back into her former position. A quick glance at the nice even pink color over Ann’s two mounds and the much deeper color in the places I would not touch with the hairbrush told me that Martha had done a great job preparing Ann for the hairbrush.

I demanded Ann’s right hand, and pinned it firmly it in the small of her back where it would be safe from the hairbrush. Next, in a loud, firm voice I briefly reiterated the reason for the punishment (just in case the girl happened to be listening). Then there was nothing to do but raise the brush and start my work.

The hairbrush spanking was a carbon copy of the one I had just given Brenda. It probably took less than three minutes for me to do the whole job, though it probably seemed like hours to Ann. Ann did not struggle quite as strongly as Brenda, but perhaps Martha had already spanked some of the fight out of her. It did seem that Ann managed to be significantly louder than Brenda had. I was glad that my work was done with the hairbrush, but that just meant that is was almost time to administer a much worse punishment to Susan. I wondered if Susan was already waiting outside the office, and if she had been treated to the sounds of Ann’s spanking. I was not really looking forward to my next task. There is a reason why the strap is the worse punishment in my arsenal; it is not pretty what that bit of leather does to a girl’s bottom. I admit that purposely bruising a girl’s bared bottom makes me feel a bit like a bully, but that is an unavoidable part of my job, and you certainly can’t argue with the school’s 15 years of continuous success.

We got the two girls properly calmed down, and hugged, and comforted, but didn’t bother getting them dressed because Martha wanted to take them to her dispensary for a bit of first-aid. Our dispensary is only 20 feet down the hall, so Martha walked through the outer office and stuck her head out the door to ensure that the hallway was deserted. Except for Susan who was waiting nervously for her turn, the hallway was clear.

Chapter 7 "Susan"

As we escorted the two still-sobbing and semi-nude girls out of the office, I spied Susan. I told her to help Martha with the two girls. With Susan’s help, Martha took the two girls into our little dispensary. They put one girl face-down on the treatment table, and another on the cot, gave them pillows to sob into, and applied the cold packs to their bottoms. The idea of the cold packs is to reduce any soft tissue muscle inflammation so the girl’s training regimen would be less interrupted by the results of their punishment. I am not sure this step is necessary, but the school’s nurse, Martha, insists it is.

While Martha and the girls were busy in the dispensary, I sat down at my desk and pulled Susan’s folder to refresh my memory of her past discipline issues and punishments. Susan’s first few weeks as a first-year student had not started out well. She had a problem with authority and ended up getting three spankings in as many weeks. It took a dose of the hairbrush to set her straight, and then she went on to be a model student. She was not always the perfectly behaved little girl, but she did seem to earn fewer spankings than her peers. This certainly helped her win the coveted position of Lead Student and a rare third year at Berkshire.

She had an uneven start in her third year. Susan initially seemed a bit disorganized, which showed itself as excessive tardiness for her classes at the Community College. This little problem earned her two spankings before it was solved. This did not overly worry me; it is unusual for any student, even a lead student, to make it completely through a school year without having some disciplinary problem to be solved across my lap. That said, today would be the first time I had ever punished a Lead Student with anything more than a hand spanking. I guess there can be a first time for anything!

As I was reading Susan’s rather thick file, Martha and Susan had left Ann and Brenda recuperating in the dispensary, and came into the office. I motioned for Susan to stand in front of my desk.

Susan is a graceful, compact, athletic girl with long blond hair that seems to flow when she dances. Like all the other girls, she was dressed in the school’s sweat suit. Barely 18, she is the oldest student, and those extra months seemed to show in the ripening curves of her young body. My eyes told me that biologically Susan was a woman, but her actions of last night told me that inside, she is still very much a child.

With tears streaming down her cheeks, the girl waited for me to speak, but finally she seemed to be able to hold back no longer: “Mr. Daniels” she blurted, “I can’t believe that I did something so stupid. I suppose you will have to spank me more than once to punish me for what I did, and that’s OK; but PLEASE give me another chance! Don’t kick me out of school!”

Multiple punishments was a concept that I hadn’t considered before, and under the circumstances it actually made a bit of sense, but Martha and I had discussed the situation at length, so I decided it was pest to stick to our plan. We had certainly considered removing Susan from her position, but doing so would have caused several new problems that would need solutions. It didn’t makes any sense to keep Susan on as a “graduate” student if she did not have her position as Lead Student, and removing her would leave us the problem of either recruiting another Lead Student in the middle of the school year or perhaps hiring a dorm matron at great expense. In the end, we decided the best course of action was to give Susan a maximum punishment, forgive her, and then give her another chance.

“Susan”, I said “Firing you as Lead student and expelling you from Berkshire was something we seriously considered, but in the end we have decided to give you another chance. Also, I don’t think that there will be any need for multiple punishment sessions.” The girl seemed to wilt with relief. “Don’t be too happy” I warned. “You are about to receive the worst whipping I have ever given any student and then you can consider yourself on probation for the rest of the semester. Furthermore, I expect your full cooperation with your punishment.”

Wide eyed, the girl nodded her agreement: “Thank you Mr. and Mrs. Daniels” she responded, “You won’t be sorry you gave me another chance”.

“Don’t thank me too much Susan” I said, “I am about to give you the worst punishment I have ever given any student”. New tears suddenly forming in her eyes, the girl nodded soberly. “OK” I ordered, “you know the procedure, let’s get on with this”. With that, just as I had done with all the other girls, I removed the signed copy of the school rules from Susan’s file folder and turned it around on my desk so that she could point out the rules that she had broken.

With the paperwork done, I got up from my desk, walked to the padded couch that sat against one wall, and pulled one end of it away from the wall. Susan looked at me warily, but with a question mark in her eyes. As she watched, I placed a pillow near the center of the couch. “OK Susan” I said, “I am going to show you the position you will assume for the strap. Bend over the arm of the couch and wrap your arms around that pillow.” She obeyed, and I made an adjustment or two to put her bottom at the perfect angle. “Remember that position” I warned, “and it will be your responsibility to stay in position while you are being punished. It will be very different from being spanked across someone’s lap because there will be nobody to hold you down or restrain your hands. I know it will be hard, but the way to get your punishment over the quickest is to do your very best to stay in position.”

She managed to croak the obvious question; “What…what happens if I can’t?”

“Two or three things can happen” I replied mildly. “I understand that anyone might have trouble staying in position, but each time I have to stop to put you back into position, the next swat or two will be extra hard. Also, it is especially important that you not reach back. The full force of the strap could injure your hand! If you do reach back, I will sting your hand with the strap until you but it back where it belongs.. Of course, those stings won’t count as strokes. Finally, if I get the impression that you are not doing your best, I can add extra strokes, but that is seldom necessary.

“Speaking of strokes” I continued, the usual policy is two swats per year of your age. I believe that you just turned 18…right?”

The girl nodded soberly.

“Then you can do the math as well as me. For what it’s worth, that will be another Berkshire record. I don’t believe any 18 year-old has ever been strapped before, so nobody else has ever gotten 36 swats.”

“That’s a record I won’t be proud of” Susan said with feeling.

There was just a bit more that Susan needed to know about her imminent punishment; “I will first take you across my lap and give you a hard spanking just like the other girls got, and then I will let you up. We will be patient, and allow you a couple minutes to regain your composure and even to rub a bit if you must, but then we expect you to hand me the strap and then put yourself over the end of the couch just like you are now. For your own sake, do it sooner rather than later so your bottom stays warmed up for the strap; OK?

“Y-y-yes sir” the girl replied.

“OK, get up off the couch and get yourself ready for your punishment”. The girl obeyed without drama, pushing herself up off the couch, kicking off her shoes, lowering and stepping out of her sweat pants, and then doing the same with her tiny panties. Since the last two girls had left their clothes behind, there were now three piles of clothes on the office floor. With a noticeable quiver in her lips, the girl stood straight and looked at me for her next order.

Suddenly I noticed a problem: “Turn around Susan”. The view from the rear confirmed my fears. Hanging on the girl’s petit frame, the hem of her top hung down much too far, covering most of her buttocks.

“Sorry Susan” I said, “but that top is hanging way too low. I need you to take it off.”

The girl stood there rigid as if she had not heard.

Swallowing my impatience, I explained in a reasonable voice; “It will not be a problem when you are across my lap because I can fold it up and keep it from dropping back down, but the trouble will come in when you bend over for your strapping, it is almost sure to fall down and get in the way. Once we start that strapping you will be much better off if we get it done without delay.”

Susan tried to talk, but couldn’t seem to vocalize anything coherent, “I, I, I …err…don’t…”

It was Martha who finally figured out the problem and spoke up, “You’re not wearing a bra are you Susan?”

“N, no Maam.” The girl stammered.

“You’ve had all day to put one on” Martha exclaimed.

“I…I guess I had other things on my mind, and I’ve never had to take my top off for a punishment before” Susan said, somewhat lamely.

We had been aware that some of the girls went braless on days when costume changes weren’t likely. We had considered saying something about that, but decided to stick with our “no rules about underwear” policy.

Considering that she was already bare from the waist down, neither Martha nor I saw the exposure of her breasts as a big problem, but somehow it posed a mental barrier for Susan. I found myself recalling the words that the school’s founder had told me on my first day there;”we don’t bare our girls to humiliate them, we bare them because that it the best and safest way for us to administer their punishment.”

Martha spoke up in a gentle voice” This is a private place, we are parents of grown girls and we certainly know what girl’s bodies look like. You promised to cooperate with your punishment, so let’s move on and get it over with”.

Susan nodded miserably, reached for the hem of her top, and pulled it over her head. She dropped the garment on her pile of clothes and stood before us, wearing only her athletic socks. Her hands fluttered as if she were drying do decide if it were more important to hide her breasts or her groin. Finally she shrugged a bit, wiped at her tears and just dropped them to her sides. Susan suddenly shivered. She was standing close enough that we could hardly miss a sudden change in the texture of her areolas. Simultaneously, both Martha and I realized that the evening chill was invading our office. Mumbling a quick apology, Martha jumped up and adjusted the thermostat for more heat.

Her punishment obviously imminent, the naked girl looked at us with a mixture of fear and expectation in her eyes.

Susan was only a year older than the other students, but that one year made a huge difference in the womanly blossoming of her body. Her waist was every bit as tiny as I expected, but in spite of her lean, nearly athletic build, her hips had a soft, curvy quality that would do justice to a centerfold. I had already noted that her bottom was just a bit fuller that those of the other students. I could instantly tell why she sometimes didn’t bother with bras, her perky breasts defied gravity. They had no apparent need of artificial support.

I pulled out the lower-right drawer of my desk and replaced the hairbrush in its normal spot. From the same drawer I retrieved the long-unused strap and laid it conspicuously in the middle of my desk. Susan winced noticeably and her mouth made an “O” when she realized what it was.

It wasn’t just any ‘ole strip of leather either! It was the strap that Mrs. Miller had left behind, the same one that she had once used on my own bare hiney, and later carefully trained me in its use. She once told me that it was a genuine regulation Irish school strap, the same kind that had been used on her in her younger years in the country of her birth. Somehow, Mrs. Miller had found a supplier in Ireland and purchased this one at considerable expense. At her insistence, I learned to maintain it by giving it a treatment with Neatsfoot oil at the beginning of every semester to keep the leather soft and pliable.

An Irish school strap is actually part strap and part paddle. Short as straps go, it is made of two layers of fine leather sewed together at the edges. One end is handle-shaped. The “business end” is wonderfully smooth at the edges, and the corners have been rounded to reduce the possibility of skin abrasion. The shortness of the strap makes it highly accurate. In short, it is the perfect implement to deliver a severe, but relatively safe punishment.

My thoughts turned back to Susan. I had considered asking Martha to deliver the first part of Susan’s punishment, but ultimately decided that this issue was sort of personal between Susan and me. So I would do the entire job. Leaving the strap on my desk, I stood, took Susan by the elbow, and led her to the spanking chair. I sat. Without prompting, but with a definite groan, the girl started to place herself across my lap, but I stopped her.

“Not yet Susan” I said, “stand in front of me and look me in the eye. Let’s review why you are about to be punished. It was bad enough that you snuck out of the campus, which alone is enough to earn you a spanking. The worse part is that you betrayed my trust by leading almost the entire school body into potential danger. Your job is to protect them!”

New tears sprouting in her eyes, Susan nodded, “I know Mr. Daniels, I was entirely wrong.”

Relentlessly I continued: “And now 16 of those girls have been spanked; spankings that are partly your fault.”

Susan’s knees buckled, “I’ve been sick about that all day Mr. Daniels.”

“OK,” I said, “now you will feel what they felt. You may put yourself across my lap.”

She actually seemed relieved to finally put herself into position, and obeyed without delay. At my urging, she scrunched up high, with her toes barely touching the floor. She steadied herself by placing her left palm on the floor, and automatically offered me her right hand to immobilize in the small of her back.

Normally my first spanks are sort of tentative to allow the girl a few seconds to adjust to the reality of her punishment, but this time I started with a flurry of nearly full-force spanks right to the meatiest part of her bottom. Susan shrieked and bucked like a wild thing, splaying and scissoring her legs.

Lying in the infirmary, Brenda and Ann could clearly hear the sounds of Susan’s spanking. The fire in their own bottoms temporarily forgotten, the girls looked at each other with big eyes as they heard the anguished sounds explode from their student leader.

Having completed that first flurry of spanks, I reverted to the pattern that I had used today on all the other girls, but I took a bit more time, making sure that I did a good job, not missing a square inch of her bottom, the back of her legs, or her inner thighs. Finally I stopped and just watched the bawling girl. After inspecting my work closely, I decided this first part of Susan’s correction was complete. Normally, I would begin comforting a girl at this point, but Susan’s punishment was just starting!

Chapter 8 "Susan and the Strap")

When I felt it safe, I released the girl and helped her to her feet. She did a short but impressive spank-dance, and then seemed to suddenly remember what was next. She looked at the waiting couch arm, and then at the strap lying on my desk, and then gave me a wide-eyed “trapped rabbit” look. I took that as my cue, “You know we still have business Susan”, I said firmly, “So when you are ready, you may pick up that strap and hand it to me. The sooner we start, the sooner it will be over”.

At first, she seemed not to hear, but finally, obviously in a fog, the girl made her way to the desk. Picking up the strap seemed to be an effort for her, as if she had been asked to pick up a deadly snake. She snatched her hand away twice before finally managing to close her fingers around the dreaded object and actually pick it up. Once she finally had it in her hand, she didn’t seem to want to give it up; obviously knowing that action would place her one step closer to her imminent whipping. Not wanting to drag things out, I encouraged her by wrapping my right arm comfortingly around her shoulders and reaching out my left for the strap. Reluctantly, she handed it to me.

With my arm still around her shoulders, I led her to the end of the couch. Reluctantly, she bent over, her still-crimson bottom elevated by the couch’s arm. I gave her the pillow to hug, reminding her to keep her arms under her. I don’t know if she was still listening, but I reminded her that it would be her responsibility to stay in position. The better she managed, the sooner her ordeal could be over.

I honestly hate to use the strap on any of my students, but feel that on those rare occasions when it can’t be avoided that I should do a very good job. It is exactly the knowledge of the severity of the punishment that helps deter students from mischief so that I will need to use the strap even less!

My plan for this punishment was simple. The first four swats and the last four swats would be “scorchers”; the other swats would be only moderate as long as Susan cooperated. Martha would watch proceedings closely to be sure that the punishment, though severe, remained safe for Susan.

I lightly popped Susan’s bottom twice with the strap to find the proper range, and then slashed it down for the first real swat. I am always shocked at how much noise the strap makes when it lands! Susan shrieked, but held her position. Over the next 30 seconds, I delivered 3 more very hard swats. Susan howled with each one. Her bottom clenched and unclenched with the first two swats and then after the third, her feet levitated, and her legs scissored wide. In the process, she presented me with a view of her most private places; a view that is normally reserved for fortunate young husbands and the occasional medical practitioner.

As I said before, I am human. Normally an unexpected view like this would be a secret, guilty pleasure for me. But just then I was a bit numb from a full day of spanking. I had been dreading delivering this strapping all day, and now I just wanted to do a good job and have it over.

After the fourth swat, I could see that Susan’s determination to stay in position was wearing thin. She twisted her bottom away from me, but then quickly put it back into position.. She looked back at me apprehensively, perhaps wondering if that lapse would be enough to earn her an extra hard swat.

In the infirmary, Brenda and Ann held hands and sobbed as they heard the unmistakable sounds of their lead student’s strapping. They could clearly hear the “POP” each time leather met buttflesh, but the sounds of Susan’s anguish were even clearer. The hairbrush had been bad enough, but both girls silently vowed to never earn a taste of that fearsome strap.

Now I started delivering swats that were slightly less powerful, but more rapid. That short Irish school strap gives me wonderful control. I can precisely target the landing area for each swat. Right cheek, left cheek, sit spots; I can easily spread my swats around so there is less chance of abrasion from overlapping belt marks. There is also much less need to swap sides and take left-handed strokes as is necessary when using a longer belt.

These faster swats actually seemed to give Susan more trouble than the slower, harder swats. She was bouncing and howling at the top of her lungs, and her cries had a new edge of desperation to them. I knew that she would not be able to hold position much longer. After the twelfth stroke, her hands fluttered out from under her tummy. Two strokes later, those hands started drifting towards her bottom. I warned her loudly. She did not acknowledge, but the errant hands edged back towards her tummy.

Right after stroke 18, her left hand shot out and covered her bottom. As I warned her would happen, I carefully stung her hand with the strap. The hand disappeared back underneath the bawling girl. I took a moment before landing stroke 19, but it was much harder than the previous few strokes had been.

“OK Susan” I said loudly, speaking over her cries, “We are past the halfway point. Keep in position and we can be done in two minutes.” To my surprise, her cries quieted to a mere blubbering, and she actually nodded her understanding.. I did some quick math and formed a plan to finish this. I had 17 swats to go, but the last 4 were to be slow, very hard and deliberate. So I needed 13 more swats to get us to that point. I decided to change tactics. I decided to do her a big favor by speeding up her punishment; but she probably wouldn’t see it as a favor until much later...

I put my left hand in the small of Susan’s back and pushed down hard, pinning her in place. “Bury your face in the pillow and hug it hard” I ordered. She obeyed, “Hug it harder!” I ordered. As she was processing that last order, I started slashing down with the strap. She squirmed, she kicked, she drew a mighty breath and screamed “Noooooooo”, but she was so surprised by the sudden onslaught that there was little else she could manage. I got all of those 13 swats delivered in perhaps 10 seconds.

Now only four to go!

That sudden volley of strokes left her in a terrible state, so I gave her a moment to calm down. She was showing signs of exhaustion. Clearly, both of us were ready for this strapping to end. “OK Susan” I said, only four more strokes to go. Expect these to be extra hard, and remember what this is all about. You are never going to lead your classmates into trouble again…right?”

“Yes sir…No! I mean No sir” she stammered.

“Here we go; the last part of your strapping, then you will be forgiven and we will start all over” I promised.

I delivered the last four swats slowly. They were the hardest of all. I landed one swat to the fullness of each butt cheek and one to each sit spot. She bucked and wailed, but at this point she was too tired to do much other than simply absorb her punishment.. It took no more than a minute to deliver those last four devastating swats, but she would be feeling them for the next several days.

I looked at Martha; she smiled grimly and nodded her approval. Susan’s punishment was finally over, and our duties for today were nearly done.

When Susan calmed down just a bit, I let her up. Still sobbing, she reached back and tenderly touched her bottom with just the tips of her fingers. I sat down on the couch, and Susan instantly flew into my arms, blubbering a near-incoherent apology into my shoulder. I found myself hugging her, but quickly became uncomfortable with the fact that I was hugging a naked student. I motioned Martha over. She joined in sort of a three-way hug, and then I eased off the couch, leaving Martha to comfort Susan. She suggested that I take Brenda & Ann’s clothes into the infirmary and tell them it is OK for them to get dressed and return to the dorm. After the two girls got dressed, I took them into the outer office for a short post-spanking talk before releasing them. I returned to the office to find Susan face-down on the couch with a cold pack on her bottom.

Suddenly I realized that Martha and I had worked right through lunch, and it was now a bit past supper time. Unfortunately, supper would have to wait another hour. We still had to do wait for the cold pack to have its effect, and then have a serious post-punishment talk with Susan.

For better or worse, a Berkshire School legend was born that day that would live on for many generations of students, but no class was ever collectively brave (or irrational) enough to try to duplicate the “great escape”.

Guyspencer Home Page
© Guyspencer 2010