Smoking Can Damage Your Bottom!
     
Stonegrove Public School had admitted only boys for nearly all
of its proud centuries old history. But last year the
headmaster, Mr Grahame, and the board of governors had decided
to allow the sixth form in order to study for their 'A'
Levels.  

There were now twenty girls at the school, split between three
dormitories. And now that, three weeks after the beginning of
term, the initial strangeness had worn off and the girls were
no longer the subject of quite such intense curiosity on the
part of the boys, they were beginning to settle in.  

One Monday morning Mr Freeman, the mathematics master,
returning from a weekend spent with relatives, was surprised
to see a young lady, wearing the Stonegrove uniform, entering
a sweetshop in the local village. He checked his watch. It was
definitely lesson time. He decided to follow her into the shop
and ascertain whether she had leave or if she was playing
truant. If so he intended to give her a firm lecture on the
importance of school rules and to escort her back to school
immediately.  

But when he entered the shop he was just in time to see the
girl being served with a packet of cigarettes! This was much
more serious! He recognised her as Caroline Trevlyn, one of
his sixth form maths set.  

"Hand over those cigarettes immediately, Caroline!" he
ordered, to the surprise of the young girl assistant, the only
other customer and, most of all to Caroline. The girl was at
first too shocked to respond. Then, blushing furiously, she
stammered: "Oh, sir. They're not for me! I was buying them for
a present to take home in the holidays!" 

It sounded weak even to Caroline herself. She had said the
first thing that had come into her head because she knew just
how serious it was to be caught buying cigarettes. 

"All right. You can make your excuses to Mr Grahame back at
the school. Now just give me the packet and come back with me.
No arguments. You shouldn't be off the school premises at
all!" 

As the teacher and the seventeen year old left the customer
turned to the shop assistant and remarked "I'm glad I'm not in
that young lady's shoes!" 

"Yes, rather!" relied the shop girl, "I remember what happened
to me when I was caught with cigarettes at my old school! And
she was out of bounds as well!" As she spoke the girl's left
hand moved to the seat of her jeans and rubbed it
reminiscently. 

As they made their way back to the school Caroline begged Mr
Freeman not to report her to the headmaster. But he knew that
he had no choice in the circumstances.

"You'll be hearing from Mr Grahame later today," he said. 

Back at school Caroline told her friends what had happened
when she had a chance in morning break. Several other girls
had known that she had been planning an illicit visit to the
village and had, indeed, intended to share in the cigarettes.
So there was a great deal of sympathy for Caroline for having
been unfortunate enough to be caught. 

But there was also a great deal of speculation in the girls'
common room, when Caroline was not present, as to the nature
of her punishment! Some of the girls thought that she might
get the cane. 

"Look," said Margaret Collins, "my brother got six of the best
from Mr Grahame for smoking last year and there's nothing in
the prospectuses or the school rules that says anything about
girls being punished any different to boys! I think our little
Carrie is going to get herself a sore bum. I'm sorry for her,
of course, but there it is.' 

"Oh, come on,' said Marie Hardman, nervously, 'you're having
us on! You can't seriously think that Grahame can cane our
bottoms. It's obscene! They just haven't had time to revise
the school rules properly, that's all!" 

"Maybe he'll get Mrs Fisher to do it for him!" suggested
Michelle Richards. A few of the assembled girls laughed. Mrs
Fisher was nearly seventy and rather frail. A caning from her
would be rather like being spanked with a feather! 

Tanya Newland added her comment: "It might be on the hands. At
my old school girls could get the cane on the hands," she
said. "I never got it, though!" she added quickly, before
anyone could ask. 

"Actually Mr Freeman might not even report her after all,"
speculated Kate Rolandson. "You know how good she is at maths!
She's his favourite. Perhaps he only said he was going to tell
Mr Grahame to frighten her and really he's going to let her
off with lines or detention." 

"Maybe," said Margaret. "But if I was Caroline I'd put an
extra pair of panties on anyway! My brother says that Grahame
really knows how to whack!"  

"Oh, stop it Margaret!" said Marie angrily, "You're being
beastly!" 

"It's all right! Caroline's not here, is she? Anyway, where is
she, come to that? Maybe she's bending over in his study right
now!" 

This particular theory was disproved a moment later when
Caroline entered the room. Complete silence fell and Caroline
blushed at the thought of what the girls had been talking
about. 

"Have you heard anything from Mr Grahame yet,' enquired
Margaret, in a friendly manner. She was really quite friendly
with Caroline and certainly didn't want her to get the cane.
She just had a rather outspoken way with her. 

"No. Nothing at all!" Caroline answered rather sharply. She
didn't want to talk about it. She had already realised that if
she was reported to the headmaster she could well be caned. It
was a terrifying prospect to her. At her old school there had
been no corporal punishment and the usual penalty for
rule-breaking was having to learn chunks of English poetry off
by heart - which she quite liked. Once she had had to write
out 200 lines which had resulted in an aching wrist. This time
she knew that she might end up with quite another part of her
anatomy aching - and rather more painfully! 

For the short time remaining of morning break the girls
discussed other topics, uncomfortably aware of the presence of
the silent and worried girl anxiously waiting for the chopper
to fall. 

All through the rest of the morning's classes Caroline was
distracted, expecting a prefect to come to the class at any
moment and summon her to the Head. The longer the wait, and
the uncertainty, went on, the worst she felt. But nobody came
and it was lunchtime. 

Many of the girls had thought that the Head would chose the
dinner hour to 'deal with' Caroline and the tension rose to a
new peak. By now the boys had heard the rumours spreading and
poor Caroline was aware of being pointed out by one boy to
another and of their smirks and sniggers. A few nasty lads
teased her to her face, but Caroline's friends, and the other
boys put a stop to that. 

The poor girl was completely unable to concentrate on lessons
that afternoon. Her mind was occupied with the prospect of the
headmaster's cane whacking down either on her hands or her
bottom. Christ! It was awful! She wondered if she should
telephone home to her parents, but she didn't know what they
would say if they knew she'd been out of bounds buying
cigarettes. Her mother, in particular, was very strict about
smoking and, in fact, Caroline's only previous real experience
of corporal punishment had been when Mrs Trevlyn had caught
her with cigarettes. 

Three or four times that afternoon teachers angrily called out
to her to attract her attention, and Mr Thompson made her
stand up for the second half of the Economics class as a
reminder. Some of the class were amused, thinking that
Caroline might well have lost her last chance to sit down in
comfort, but others were beginning to wonder why she hadn't
been sent for yet. 

And by the time classes were finished many pupils had come
round to Kate's opinion, that Mr Freeman hadn't really
reported Caroline at all. But Caroline herself did not dare to
hope until the bell went for bed time. Mr Freeman had said
that she would hear from the headmaster 'today'. And she
hadn't. Well just the threat of the cane had been a real
punishment - she was going to make sure that she wasn't caught
with cigarettes again! 

As she changed into her pyjamas in the Luke House dormitory
Caroline was aware of an overwhelming feeling of relief.
Margaret called over to her, in jest, "I'd keep your panties
on under those jimjams, just in case!' But nobody seriously
thought that anything could happen now. 

Mrs Fisher looked in as usual at ten o'clock to turn out the
lights. But this evening she stepped into the dorm and called
to Caroline. 

"Caroline Trevlyn! Out of bed, girl! You've got an appointment
with Mr Grahame!" 

After thinking that she had got away with it by the skin of
her teeth, the shock was many times worse. Deeply embarrassed
and scared out of her mind the girl had to climb out of bed. 

"No need to get dressed, Caroline. Just put your dressing gown
and slippers on and come with me." Then Mrs Fisher turned to
the other girls. 

"I'm going to leave the light on now, girls, for about a
quarter of an hour until Caroline comes back. You may talk -
but quietly! If there is any disturbance in this dormitory
some of you other girls will be joining Caroline in Mr
Grahame's study!" 

The teacher and the naughty schoolgirl walked down the
corridor in grim silence. Caroline on the point of tears. 

Mrs Fisher knocked on the door of the headmaster's study,
opened the door and ushered the girl in, closing the door
behind her. Caroline found herself, for the first time, alone
in the presence of her headmaster. He was a tall, powerfully
built man, with rather a charisma about him. Caroline would
have felt overawed in his presence at the best of times, and
now, with the knowledge that he had the authority to
administer an extremely humiliating punishment to her she felt
ashamed to look at him. She stood in front of his desk,
trembling slightly, and looked down towards her slippered
feet. 

Mr Grahame looked at the miserable culprit for a few seconds
before speaking. Caroline Trevlyn was a pretty seventeen year
old of slightly under average height with soft features and
shoulder length russet hair. She was wearing light blue
pyjamas and a brightly patterned dressing gown. He sincerely
wished it was not necessary to inflict punishment on this
silly little girl, but it was necessary. Finally he spoke: 

"Caroline Trevlyn. Mr Freeman tells me that he found you out
of bounds in lesson time buying cigarettes! Have you anything
to say for yourself?"

Caroline shook her head in silence, still ashamed to look the
headmaster in the face. She did not dare to tell him the
ridiculous story she had told the maths master. She knew it
could only make matters worse. 

"I see. You're a new girl here, but I'm sure that you realise
the seriousness of these matters. Possession of cigarettes by
itself is specified in the school rules as being punishable by
the cane, and you have skipped lessons, broken bounds and lied
to a member of my staff as well! Any boy in your form who had
acted as you have done could consider himself fortunate if he
received twelve strokes of the cane, well laid on! Now, I
don't propose to punish you so severely as you deserve, but
can you give me one good reason why I shouldn't give you a
taste of my cane?" 

This time Caroline felt that she did have something to say.
She didn't think she stood much chance of getting off, but she
had to try at least. "Yes, sir. I'm a girl and girls shouldn't
be caned. Also my parents wouldn't want me to be caned. They
don't agree with corporal punishment." 

"Well Caroline at this school I have one set of rules for all
the pupils. And, it may surprise you, but I have spoken with
both your father and your mother on the telephone earlier
today and neither of them tried to dissuade me from
administering to you the caning which you so richly deserve.
And your mother told me that she'd spanked you with a
hairbrush before now for smoking - that's odd, isn't it, if
she doesn't believe in corporal punishment?" 

Caroline looked at the headmaster for the first time and
grimaced, but didn't answer. Her wistful mouth and large eyes
appealed for mercy she was not going to get. 

The headmaster stood up and moved over to a cupboard in the
corner of the study. He opened it and took out a long slender
cane, yellowish brown in colour. He turned to face the pretty
teenager. 

"Six strokes, Caroline, and I am deducting ten house points
from Luke House. I don't suppose you've ever had the cane
before, have you?" 

A miserable shake of the head. 

"Well, it's intended as a punishment for serious breaches of
the rules and it is a serious punishment. It hurts! But I
shall expect you to remain in position throughout - remember
I'm giving you much less than you deserve! Now, take your
dressing gown off and bend over that chair.' 

Caroline obeyed, positioning herself as required and awaiting
the first stroke. She wriggled in deep embarrassment as she
felt Mr Grahame's hand running over the seat of her blue
pyjama bottoms as he checked that she wasn't wearing more than
one layer of clothing. He speedily satisfied himself that the
thin garment was her only protection. Caroline's whole body
tensed as she waited apprehensively for the first blow. 

Once he was satisfied with the girl's position Mr Grahame
stepped back slightly and measured the distance with the end
of his cane against her rear. For a moment everything was
deathly still. Then he said: "Right, here it comes. Six
strokes." 

He drew the cane back and then slashed it down hard across the
seat of Caroline's taut pyjama trousers. It was worse than she
had feared, a searing line of white-hot pain. A shudder ran
through her body and she gasped audibly, but bravely made no
other sound. 

Back came the cane, up over his shoulder, and swish, down it
came to hit that outstretched behind. It made a loud sound, as
if a cushion had been thumped, and Caroline jerked but did not
cry out. 

Somewhat surprised at how well the girl was coping with the
early part of her punishment, Mr Grahame applied even more
force to his third stroke. 

THWACKK!! 

"Oh . . . ow . . . oh!" cried Caroline. She raised first one
foot and then the other. It seemed as if fire was viciously
clutching at her entire bottom. Her breathing was coming in
short sharp gasps, her breasts, within the confines of the
blue pyjama jacket, heaved, her hips swayed from side to side,
as if in an effort - vain though it inevitably was - to
assuage the mind-boggling pain in her thinly covered buttocks. 

There was a short pause - an agonising period during which
Caroline went through mental torture; not knowing where the
fourth stroke would fall. Her backside twitched; her whole
body seemed to have been taken over by some outside force
which was causing her to shake, and her muscles - especially
those in her bottom - to relax rather than tense. 

The cane sped down again, landing a little lower this time.
Caroline gave vent to a resounding screech and her haunches
writhed furiously as that vicious stroke sent vibrations to
every nerve and fibre in her body. 

"Stay still, girl!" ordered the headmaster. "Two strokes to
come!" 

Mr Grahame always made sure that the final two strokes of a
caning were the most painful and now he really lashed the cane
down hard low onto Caroline's bottom on a previously uncaned
area. 

"Oooh . . . aagh . . . aahh!" she yelled, her body jerking
upright and her hands flying to her backside. 

"How dare you get up before I tell you to!" rasped the
headmaster angrily. "Back over that chair at once unless you
want extra strokes!" 

Caroline had started to cry now but she had no choice but to
obey. Stiffly and painfully she lowered her body and took hold
of the chair again. She had not imagined such pain possible.
Neither could she imagine taking another stroke on her blazing
bottom. But she had to. 

Mr Grahame gave the cane a few practice swishes through the
air, each one making the pain-wracked girl feel as if that
awful instrument was about to land, each time her bottom
tensing at the sound. 

Then she heard an almighty swish and, a moment later, the
sixth agonising stroke had landed. 

"Aarrghh! Ooaw! Ooaw! . . . oh oh oh oh oww!!" 

Mr Grahame stood back, placed the cane on his desk, and looked
at the quivering bottom encased in its thin cotton trousers.
He told Caroline to stand up and she did so, her hands
immediately going to her bottom again. She hopped from foot to
foot, still trying to come to terms with the intense stinging
pain still pouring out of her wealed rear.  

The headmaster walked back behind his desk and sat down. He
opened a drawer and pulled out the school Punishment Book. He
looked up at the wriggling teenager, tears slowly falling down
her pretty face. 

"Put your dressing gown back on Caroline. And stop crying!
It's all over now!" 

He was pleased with the manner in which she had taken her
punishment. Many boys made more fuss at their first caning
than this girl had done. 

Caroline put her dressing gown back on and tried to sniff back
her tears and stop crying. It wasn't so easy. The caning might
have been 'all over' but the pain certainly wasn't! She dabbed
at her eyes with a handkerchief held in her left hand, but her
right hand remained firmly pressed to the back of her dressing
gown. 

Mr Grahame made the necessary entries in the book. Then he
looked up and addressed Caroline once again. 

"I'm sorry that was necessary, Caroline. I know it's not very
pleasant, and I'm afraid you're going to have a very sore
bottom for a while. But it's not my fault, you know, it's your
own fault! And it's up to you to learn a lesson from this and
improve your behaviour for the rest of your time at this
school. Now let's get you back to your dormitory!" 

Caroline would rather not have had the headmaster accompany
her back to the dorm, but she could hardly object. He did not
say a word as they made the slow journey back, but it was not
made in such absolute silence as she had walked to his study.
This time as she walked Caroline could not stop frequent gasps
and ejaculations of pain. 

When they reached the dormitory the eyes of all the other
girls were riveted onto Caroline, but the presence of the
headmaster prevented any comments. He stood impassively by the
door as the caned girl limped, blushing beetroot red, across
the room to her bed. 

She hesitated when she reached the side of her bed, uncertain
how to get in without aggravating the pain in her posterior
and not wanting to lie down with her weight on her bottom. 

"Go on, girl. Get in face down! Everyone here knows you've got
a sore bottom!" called out the headmaster helpfully. As soon
as she was in bed, face buried in her pillows, he addressed
the rest of the girls. 

"You all know by now that I have had to cane Caroline Trevlyn
for a very serious breach of school rules. I don't like caning
anyone, and I especially dislike having to punish senior girls
like you, who are supposed to be young ladies, in this way.
But I can assure you all that I will continue to do my duty
and that if any of you, or any of the other girls at the
school, do anything that deserves a caning then that girl's
bottom will be just a sore as Miss Trevlyn's is now! I'm
switching the light off now, and I don't want to hear a sound
from this dormitory - or else." 

There was no talking after the headmaster's departure - none
of the other girls wanted what Caroline had got. But they
could hear her loud sobs as she started crying again. There
were shivers in the darkness from the seven girls who weren't
sobbing. Some girls could not sleep for thinking about what a
caning must be like, hearing Caroline's sobs long into the
night.