Size: a a a a a    Colour: a a a a a
*JUSTICE SEEN TO BE DONE*

by /*Lisa Grant*/



Author Comments
I know authors aren't really supposed to comment on their own stories,
but I'd just like to respond to some very kind and generous comments.
Yes Andy Nixon and Tony are both me, but I am writing as Andy these
days. (I also briefly wrote for Roue as Toby Atkinson!) There were
actually two illustrations on this Janus story, by the sublime Paula
Meadows. She did a wonderful job. I don't think they can be reproduced
here unfortunately. The Janus story was written a long time ago, but I
hope I'm not a "one hit wonder". A whole raft of my stories are due for
publication right here as e-books over the coming months, and I hope you
find they are just as interesting, if not better. Many thanks for all
the kind comments
Andy Nixon.
I could hardly believe what was happening. It was just so unfair. Anne
Hawkins and Diane Bennett had never liked me for some reason best known
to themselves. The three of us had been in the same class at school for
five years now, and at sixteen they seemed to have overtaken me in terms
of maturity. They had blossomed from being silly little girls into very
sexy young ladies, and I took every opportunity of ogling their long
shapely legs under their school desks during lessons. It didn't alter
the fact, though, that they were a couple of wicked bitches with a
spiteful sense of humour. They delighted in teasing me and getting me
into trouble, but this was the last straw! They had hidden some of their
things in my school locker and then reported them stolen. A search was
mounted, the things were found and, as a result, we were all three now
in the Headmaster's office.

Mr. Thomas, the Head, was wearing his gown and looked most severe as he
pushed the pens, coins and other items across his desk. "Are these the
items you had stolen, girls?" he asked grimly.

The two girls quickly nodded and said, "Yes, sir". How could they? They
were sitting in two easy chairs next to his desk and, despite
everything, I still couldn't help admiring their legs.

"Anything to say, Robertson?"

"No, sir," I muttered, staring down at the carpet to hide my anger.

"I regard stealing as a most serious breach of discipline which demands
severe punishment!"

I cast a ferocious glance at Anne and Diane who looked so smug I could
have hit them. Even so I couldn't help but notice that Anne had crossed
her legs and was revealing quite a bit of bare, shapely thigh, from
where I was standing. Stupidly, I still fancied the pair of them like
crazy. They had both taken to wearing high heeled strap-fastened black
sandals over white knee socks, their skirts trimmed to just fashionably
above the knee. This set their long legs off to perfection. It was
strange to be thinking of such things at a time like this, but my
hormones drove my brain in those days.

However I was snapped out of my short-lived reverie when the Head said,
"And so, therefore, to the matter of punishment...". A shudder went down
my spine.

"Now, as I see it, I have two options open to me," he began, then looked
across at the two girls. "Since you brought the complaint I look to you
girls for advice. Do you think the most suitable and effective
punishment would be suspension from school or a sharp dose of the cane?"

I shuddered again and swore under my breath.

"Oh the cane sir!" said Diane all too eagerly.

"Oh yes sir," Anne quickly added.

They smirked at each other in a way that made my blood boil.

"I see. So you think young Robertson should be caned do you? That would
clear up the matter to your satisfaction?"

"Yes, sir," they said in unison.

"Very well." Mr Thomas then took out the Punishment Book from his top
desk drawer and placed it in front of himself. He opened the book and
took out a pen. "I am empowered to administer the cane to pupils on the
palms of their hands or on their..er...rear ends, covered by one layer
of clothing. Which of these options would you consider most appropriate,
ladies?"

Shocked to be consulted, Anne stuttered, trying not to snicker,
"The..er.. rear end, sir."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing - that my punishment was being
determined by these two little liars! It all seemed so bloody
matter-of-fact! By now my palms were sweating and my stomach was
churning. Yet even at this point I was staring at Anne's gorgeous legs
like some fetishist.

"And how many strokes would you consider appropriate, ladies?"

"Six of the best, sir," said Diane gleefully.

The Head raised one eyebrow. "Six of the best, eh? You obviously concur
with me that the crime committed here deserves a severe retribution." He
wrote in the book again. Then he dropped the real bombshell!

"Now girls, would you think its right that the offended parties in this
case should witness justice being done?"

"Oh definitely, sir!" said Anne hastily, her face pink as she winked
slyly at Diane, no doubt imagining the pleasure they would get from
seeing me bent over with my trousers down.

Mr. Thomas stood up grimly, pulling his gown around him. "I see. Well
then you can help me with a few practicalities." He moved across to his
tall corner cupboard and opened the door. "I have a fairly large
selection of school canes, but basically there are four different ones
to choose from." He then withdrew four canes from the cupboard and laid
them side by side on his desk. He picked up a short, straight one. "This
is for use on pupils' palms so we can disregard it. As to the others we
have the Junior, the Intermediate and the Senior cane - obviously each
delivers a correspondingly greater degree of sting. What do you think
this case deserves, girls?"

"Oh the Senior, sir!" they chorused,none too surprisingly. I felt sick.

The Head nodded and replaced the other three canes in his cupboard. This
left the longest implement on his desk - a traditional fearsome crook
handled three-footer.

"One last question, ladies," he said. "Do you feel that the recipient of
the cane should be afforded the aid of a chair or be made to touch their
toes with legs held straight?"

They looked at each other, flattered and surprised. "Er..touching toes,
sir," said Diane after some thought.

"I see. So let's recap, shall we? You wish to remain as witnesses as I
give Robertson six of the best with the Senior cane, over his
underpants, while he bends over touching his toes. Is that right? "

"Yes, sir!" they both said, pink-cheeked with excitement. Anne slid one
shapely leg further over the other, revealing even more thigh, while I
wished the ground would open up and swallow me.

"For something he didn't do...." said the Head cryptically.

Time seemed to stand still in that room for a few seconds. Both girls'
mouths dropped open. Smirks disappeared instantly. Anne hastily
uncrossed her legs. I'm not sure who was the more confused - me or them.
What on earth was going on?

"You see, ladies, unfortunately for you and fortunately for Robertson,
you were spotted putting those items in his locker yourselves. I have no
idea why you wanted to get a boy into trouble for something that he
wasn't even aware of, but I regard it as one of the most despicable acts
I have ever come across."

Both girls now looked shocked and frightened, while I felt that a ton
weight had been lifted from my shoulders.

"I'm sorry I had to put you through that, Robertson,but I had to be sure
how far they would take this accusation and the eventual punishment..and
may I say how much I admire you for not saying anything against these
two wicked-minded girls." Turning to Anne and Diane, he snapped, "Stand up!"

The girls looked quite pale as they scrambled to their feet. I noticed
as they stood how their high heels accentuated the length and shape of
their legs and the jutting swell of their bottoms under their blue
uniform skirts.

"Now, Miss Hawkins, why did you formulate this plot against Robertson?"

"I-I don't know sir..." came the mumbled reply from Anne, her head bowed.

"Miss Bennett?"

"Well he..because..er.. I don't know, sir..." stammered Diane.

"Don't know? You don't know why you were implicating an innocent
class-mate in a serious accusation of theft?" He was at his most
outraged and was putting the fear of God into me, never mind the two
sexy young madams in front of him. They both stared hard at the carpet,
their hands clasped firmly together in front of them.

"Whatever the reason was, there can be no excuse for trying to
manipulate someone into receiving severe corporal punishment." He paused
and gazed out of the office window, avoiding all our eyes. "I can see
only one fair way to deal with this matter. I have filled in the details
in the Punishment Book, but I have not yet filled in a name or a reason
against the entry. I feel that, in the interests of justice, I should
enter the names Anne Hawkins and Diane Bennett with the reason, 'Deceit
and victimisation'."

My heart began to pound again, for quite a different reason. The girls
looked aghast and pale.

The Head turned to me. "Robertson, would it settle the matter in your
eyes if these two wretched girls receive the punishment they would have
had me inflict on you?"

"Y-yes, sir, it would!" I heard myself stammer.

Anne and Diane both cast me a glance that could have burned through
stone. Mr. Thomas picked up his pen and scribbled away in the book.

"Six of the best with the Senior cane is a very demanding punishment,"
he said in a grim voice, "but since you both expected Robertson to take
it without complaint, I shall expect you two girls to do the same." With
that he rose to his feet and picked up the Senior cane. It rattled
tantalisingly against the desk top. He flexed the wickedly supple yard
of rattan effortlessly into a half circle and then swished it
experimentally through the air. My loins began to stir as I watched the
crestfallen girls shuffle uneasily from foot to foot, their knees
rubbing together engagingly. Anne subconsciously put her hand behind her
back and smoothed her fingers over her bottom as the Head swished the
cane. I coughed nervously. The thought of her exposed thighs was still
killing me.

"Robertson, these wicked girls were quite excited about being witnesses
to what they assumed would be your punishment. I believe in justice
being done and seen to be done, therefore I believe it is right that you
should witness their caning."

My heart skipped a beat and I became acutely aware of a tightening at
the front of my trousers. It was as if mild electric shocks were passing
through my body.

"But sir!" cried Diane in shock, "please -". The arch bitch on the spot!

"be quiet, Bennett! You were quite prepared to stay and watch me cane
Robertson, so why should he not be afforded the same choice?" snapped
Mr. Thomas, fiercely. There was another uncomfortable silence. "Well,
Robertson, do you wish to remain?"

"Oh yes sir!" I blurted out, trying desperately not to sound too eager,
and failing. "So be it," he said, moving away from his desk. "Come and
sit in my chair, boy, then you are out of the way."

I shuffled around and sat on his large comfortable chair, glad of a
chance to hide the huge tent in my trousers behind the leather topped
mahogany desk. I glanced down at the Punishment Book which was still
open. There were several entries at the top of the page - three fifth
form boys had received four strokes for smoking about two weeks ago,
then a few others including, interestingly, Tracie Ashcroft, a rather
attractive girl in Form 5B who had received two strokes on the hand the
previous week for truancy. I never knew about that. How exciting! I
wished I could have looked through the whole book, but my eyes were
distracted as they rested on the last entries - "Anne Hawkins, Form 5A,
six strokes on the buttocks, Deceit and victimisation. Diane Bennett,
ditto."

I jumped slightly as Mr. Thomas dropped the cane on the desk in front of
me with a loud rattle and walked towards the centre of the spacious
office to move a round coffee table into the corner. I would love to
have touched that wicked, shiny cane, but I just stared at its
simplicity, thinking of its latent power, and wondering how many other
girlish bottoms had been visited by its avenging sting.

The girls looked transfixed with terror as the Head slipped off his
black gown and hung it on a hook behind the door, then took off his
charcoal-grey suit jacket and hung that up too. He obviously meant
business! Striding purposefully back to the desk he picked up the cane
and paced up and down the large open space in the centre of the office,
lecturing the two girls about his shock and horror at their
misdemeanours, flexing the cane to and fro the whole time. The girls'
heads bowed lower and lower, their hands now clasped behind their backs,
as though trying to protect their gorgeous bottoms from the imminent
chastisement.

"It was only a little joke, sir," whimpered Anne suddenly.

"A joke, eh? You won't think it's a joke when it's your turn to touch
your toes, Miss Hawkins!"

"Please sir, can't we have it on our hands?" wailed Diane.

"Certainly not! You set the terms of the punishment, now you must accept
it!" Suddenly he stepped into the centre of the office, swished the cane
menacingly through the air and snapped, "Take off your blazers!"

My loins stirred once more as both girls hesitantly removed their
blazers and laid them on the chairs that they had previously occupied,
revealing their crisp white blouses, tight over their fully-developed
breasts, the snow white of the material erotically enhanced by their
striped uniform ties.

"Hawkins, go and face the door. Bennett, come here!"

The girls cast a rueful glance at one another, and parted to their
alloted positions. Diane looked pale and forlorn as she moved to the
centre of the room.

"Stand there!" Mr. Thomas pointed with the cane to an imaginary mark on
the carpet, "with your back to the window and your feet together."

I was apparently to be treated to a sideways aspect of the proceedings.
The Head moved to the far side of the girl, flexing the cane in huge
arcs as he did so.

"Now this will not be pleasant for either of you," he said sharply. "As
I have already intimated, it is easier to take a caning bent over a
chair or desk but since you would have had Robertson touching his toes,
then you can be punished in the same way!"

Diane swayed slightly, her hands clenched and held rigidly against her hips.

"Now....bend over!"

Those magic words quickened my heartbeat yet again. Diane swallowed
hard, then bent gracefully forward, her arms outstretched, until with
fingers straight and body straining her fingertips just touched her
toes. Her pleated skirt rode up her silky-skinned thighs quite a few
inches, but still obscured the designated target area. I was rather
disappointed but I needn't have worried because Mr. Thomas stepped
forward and, with a deft flick of his wrist, flipped the skirt up onto
her arched back, revealing a lovely pair of white satin-finish nylon
knickers stretched taut over her exquisitely rounded bottom. Diane had
obviously not expected this for she gasped in horror and began to
straighten up.

"Just one layer of clothing, Miss Bennett...remember? Now touch your
toes!" snapped the Head.

She complied slowly. I noticed her outstretched fingers trembling as
they pushed on to the ends of her shoes. Her knees were perfectly
straight and the high heels, uptilting her whole frame, accentuated and
enhanced the gorgeous shape of her long, smooth legs.

The Headmaster positioned himself on the far side of the bending girl
and planted his feet a little way apart for balance. Reaching out with
the cane in his right hand he ensured that he was the correct distance
away from his target. The tension in the room was unbelievable as he
laid the final punishing foot of the cane right across the centre of the
girl's perfectly rounded bottom. Diane flinched at the first touch of
the cold rattan, knowing it to be only seconds away from causing her
extreme pain. Mr. Thomas tapped the cane three..four..five times on the
same spot. I watched entranced as the firm but fleshy bottom cheeks
wobbled with each tap - a reminder of the tender vulnerability of soft
female flesh. Her longish blonde hair covered her face, but I could well
imagine her look of fearful apprehension. Anne cast a nervous glance
over her shoulder to see what was going on, knowing that her turn was
soon to come.

The Head suddenly set his face into an expression of steely
determination. I crossed my legs self-consciously, somewhat alarmed by
the swelling in the front of my trousers yet revelling in its cause. Mr.
Thomas swept the cane well back. Diane's buttocks tensed and tightened
as she anticipated the stroke. I wondered how hard he would hit. I
supposed they would be let off lightly, being girls.

Then, suddenly SWISH! THWACK!

Diane Bennett let out a yell like a scalded cat, shot bolt upright,
clasped both hands to the seat of her knickers and rubbed like hell!

"Owwwwww Aaaaaahhhh!" she whimpered, tears already pricking her eyes.

Good God! I thought. No mercy here because they're girls! Far from it!

"Get back in position!" the Head boomed. "I've hardly started with you!"

My heart pounded like mad. Diane hesitated slightly, but bent to touch
her toes once more. Her skirt was again flipped back, the cane tapped
once more on the stretched nylon drum before it, perhaps an inch lower
than last time. Then...

SWISH! THWACK!

Another loud yelp and Diane was up again, hopping from foot to foot and
massaging her injured rear. Anne Hawkins had turned to watch the cause
of the awful sound effects and was looking scared to death.

The Head suddenly exploded. "Miss Hawkins! Turn and face that door
immediately! Miss Bennett, bend over and stop making such a fuss! I've
seen Juniors take the cane better than this."

"B-but sir.." she whined, snuffling slightly.

"Touch your toes girl!"

She was indeed making a fuss, but the Head was certainly on form. He was
whacking that yard of swishy rattan down with a vengeance onto a tender
target that I guessed had never even been spanked before. Hesitantly
Diane bent forward.

"Skirt!". This time Mr.Thomas made her reach back to flip her own short
skirt to the small of her back. How I wished I could have seen the two
raised red stripes that must have been adorning that pretty posterior.
Her knees were bent this time and she appeared to be trying to lower her
bottom out of range.

"Straighten those legs. Now!"

They straightened. Her trembling fingertips stretching to reach her toes.

"If you get up again, Miss Bennett, or if I have to remind you once more
of the required position to take a caning, I will get Robertson to hold
your hands tightly and put you across the desk for the remaining strokes!"

Oh God, no! I thought. She'll be bound to detect my excitement - my
sweaty hands, my shaking fingers, maybe even see my stiffie...but then
there will be the thrill of staring into her eyes as the cane bites and
watching the pained contortions on her sexy face.

Tap, tap, tap...SWISH! THWACK! Another squeal after the explosion of
sound but the Head's threat had worked because, although her fingers
left her toes and her knees sagged slightly, she did more or less
maintain her undignified, submissive position. Within seconds she had
regained her posture, even though she was making high-pitched moaning
sounds which aroused me considerably.

Tap, tap, tap...SWISH! THWACK!

This time a shrill shriek and a frantic rubbing together of thighs,
mobilising her scorched rear into a very erotic side to side wiggle. Her
hands made white-knuckled fists then slowly straightened out again. Now
she grasped her ankles firmly and braced back her legs.

On this stroke, I endeavoured to savour the technique a little more. The
'Tap, tap, tap' was quite low down her thinly-covered bottom cheeks,
then a fairly substantial swing back and suddenly the tip of the cane
vanished in a blur as it travelled at incredible speed with a whistling
Swish! punctuated abruptly by the satisfying (to me!) Thwack! of rattan
against sensitive girl flesh. Diane yelled loudly and I realised that
she had started crying quite considerably. I also noticed that when she
yelled she jerked her head back , causing her hair to toss in the air.
Deep muffled sobs came from Diane as Mr.Thomas prepared for the last stroke.

This one was so low down that he was tapping to get his aim almost on
the rounded crease where bottom becomes thighs. This meant that, due to
the V shaping of Diane's knickers, the cane would be biting into bare
flesh. Diane must have realised this and moved her bottom to one side.
The Head gave a sharper warning tap then, as she responded, and as if to
catch her by surprise, he swept the cane swiftly back and flicked it
sharply down again in one energetic stroke.

SWISH! THWACK!

Diane tossed her head back and let out a ghastly shriek. I swiftly
re-directed my gaze on her rear-end, in the hope that I would at last
see a red line from the visitation of the stick to the lower extremities
of her cheeks, but I was foiled. She must have realised that her
torturous punishment was at an end and so leapt upright, rubbing her
throbbing sit-upon furiously and attempting to stamp the pain away in a
peculiar dance routine. Her hair was stuck to the tears on her cheeks,
she was crying loudly and unashamedly and making a hell of a fuss, but
for her at least, it was over. Her twisted expressions of exquisite
agony were testimony to the punitive power of Mr. Thomas' right arm and
its lithe, three-foot rattan extension.

The Headmaster let the cane drop down by his side. "Well I can't
compliment you on taking your punishment particularly well, Miss
Bennett, but at least you did take it without the need for Robertson's
assistance. Let us see if Miss Hawkins can manage to do the same. Now go
and face the door!" He then turned to Anne. "Miss Hawkins - take her
place if you please!"

My heart began thumping again, because I had to admit that Anne was the
one I really fancied and I couldn't wait to see her arse wriggling under
its painful ordeal. She looked resolute as she moved forwards. She was
obviously trying to hide any fear, but her wide staring eyes and flushed
cheeks gave away her suppressed panic at the plight in which she now
found herself. As Anne moved forward , Diane shuffled painfully over to
the office door and stood facing it. Anne and the Head were too
preoccupied, but I watched in delight as Diane put her hands behind her,
under the back of her skirt lifting it high as she did so, then plunged
both hands down inside her filmy white knickers, one hand on each cheek,
obviously an attempt to ease away some of the throbbing, burning sting.
She was still sobbing very quietly and uncomfortably shifting her weight
from foot to foot as though she just didn't know what to do with
herself. How I wished it was my hands down her knickers feeling those
painful ridges and all that radiated heat! I could hardly tear my eyes
away but I had to, for it was 'top of the bill' time.

Anne was standing staring downwards at nothing in particular but she was
desperate to avoid my eyes. She was an incredibly sexy girl, shorter in
height than Diane but beautifully proportioned. She was well-spoken and
obviously from quite a wealthy background, with a kind of serene
arrogance that made you want to take her down a peg or two. Yet, despite
this, she had a warm side to her nature at times and I often thought
Diane was a bad influence. I smiled to myself at just what a warm side
she would be presenting in a few minutes time! I had fancied Anne right
through school and had fantasised about her often, but this was more
gut-churningly exciting than anything my brain had dreamed up for her! I
suddenly thought of the possibility of holding Anne's hands across the
desk in front of me if she didn't take her 'six of the best' well. And
staring into those large blue eyes, watching the pained expressions wax
and wane. My mouth went quite dry at the thought!

Once again my reverie was interrupted by Mr. Thomas' voice. "Stand
there!" With his left hand he took Anne's arm firmly and pushed her to
the spot that Diane had just vacated. It was then I thought I had gone
to heaven. Anne moved to stand with her back to the window, as Diane had
done, but, presumably because it gave him more room, Mr. Thomas firmly
turned her to the side which, to my delight, left me facing her bottom!
I noticed that she gasped and rubbed two nervous sweaty palms on the
sides of her skirt as she awaited the next instruction. She didn't have
to wait long!

"Bend over and touch your toes!"

I saw her swallow hard then, without hesitation, she bent forward,
stretched out her arms and effortlessly touched the ends of her shoes
with her fingertips. Her legs, somehow even smoother and slightly more
tanned than Diane's, were kept rigidly straight. With one accomplished,
swift movement the Headmaster flipped back her school skirt. My blood
raced as I gazed at the silky smoothness of her beautifully rounded
thighs. Her knickers were much briefer than Diane's - smooth, white
nylon again but with lace trimming - altogether more breathtaking than
her friend's. They were cut away at the sides, making the 'V' that just
covered her bottom all the more pronounced. It was clear that if the
cane landed on the lower part of her cheeks it would be whacking
essentially totally bare bottom! And what a bottom! So perfectly round
and smooth with not an ounce of surplus fat.

The Head began to move into position and once more estimate his posture
for maximum swishing power. I glanced across at Diane whose hands were
still inside her knickers, now rubbing a little more carefully and
slowly. Mr. Thomas swished the cane through the air a couple of times,
as if to force everyone's attention once more. He rested the cane about
half way down Anne's curvy rear. Not on bare flesh this time. Her bottom
cheeks tightened in reflex action but as the Head 'tap, tap, tapped' the
cane on the same spot I watched as the muscles relaxed again and her
buttocks spread back to their full roundness. Her bottom was firmer and
more resilient than her friend's and so full and sumptuous to my eye.
Mr. Thomas drew back the cane then...

SWISH! THWACK!

Anne's bent frame jolted visibly on the sharp impact of the stinging
rattan, but I was amazed and a little disappointed that she didn't make
a sound and barely shifted her position. At first I thought my mind was
playing tricks and he hadn't hit her properly but the Thwack! was every
bit as loud as the strokes of Diane's punishment. Then I wondered if
Anne was maybe spanked at home and was more used to corporal punishment.
Or perhaps this wasn't the first time she had found herself in this
painful position in the Head's office! I did recall him saying earlier
"This will not be pleasant, will it, Miss Hawkins!" as if she had some
prior knowledge of a caning. How I would have loved to flick through the
Punishment Book to see if my theory was correct, and if so read the
detail and the reasons.

The Head was tapping with the cane again - lower as I had hoped. This
time the tip would land on bare skin. I was determined to watch Anne's
reaction more closely this time.

SWISH! THWACK!

Her body jerked slightly and I noticed her eyes screw tight shut, but
she still didn't make a sound. Diane glanced round in amazement at her
friend's stoicism and stopped her own childish grizzling immediately,
perhaps embarrassed now by the fuss she had made. I couldn't be sure if
I saw a red mark where the cane tip had made contact because of a thin
line of shadow caused by the lace trim of her panties..but I was
definitely going to see something this time. The cane was tapping a good
two inches lower than the previous stroke. As the Headmaster drew the
stick backwards I saw Anne tense herself, her eyes screwing tight shut.

SWISH! THWACK!

This time the pretty girl's body jerked and there was a definite audible
sucking-in of air between partly closed lips, but still no real
reaction. I was impressed by how well she was taking her punishment and
thrilled to see a vivid red stripe had sprung up on the part of her
bottom where the cane had landed, surprisingly stretching an inch or two
round the curve of her cheek where the stick had flattened the flesh on
impact.

A bead of sweat had formed on the Head's brow. Unexpectedly he spoke.

"You are taking this well, Miss Hawkins. Congratulations..How many is
that so far?"

A pause, then a muffled and very unhappy voice said, "Three, sir..."

"Ah, half way there..Perhaps young lady you would be so good as to count
the next strokes out loud?"

Why had he demanded that? I asked myself, somewhat puzzled. He
repositioned himself, then...

Tap, tap, tap...SWISH! THWACK!

The firmer whack of the rattan on Anne's more resilient flesh was quite
distinctive, and was sounding decidedly meatier as the target area
lowered and the stick bit into more and more unprotected skin. There was
another jerk of her body, almost as though she had received an electric
shock, and another stifled gasp from Anne.

In a consciously restrained voice, the unfortunate girl mumbled,
"Four...", but the tell-tale higher pitch of her voice and the distinct
quavering at the end of the word, followed by a gulping swallow told us
that she was not as composed as she would have us believe. A red band of
fire sprang up beneath the previous one, darkening in colour as I watched.

Anne shifted her weight slightly from foot to foot, but still maintained
her position. Her face was now flushed and she bit her bottom lip as
that ominous 'Tap, tap, tap' began again. This stroke was aimed at the
lowest curve of her gorgeous bum. Slowly the cane went back.....

SWISH! THWACK!

Boy, but that was a corker! Harder than all his previous strokes that
day. Anne's head jerked back a little and she swayed slightly, her knees
buckling a little after the customary reflex jolt of her whole body. She
just held on to an anguished gasp which she managed to stifle into a
sharp intake of breath. Another fiery red band leapt up exactly on target.

Hesitantly she stammered, "F-five..." in a voice cracking with pent-up
emotion.

Now I had fathomed the Head's plan! He really was a master of the caning
art. Calling out the number of strokes was to test and then help break
Anne's stoical vocal restraint. I also had to admire his skill in laying
on the strokes so neatly parallel and smack on target. He had obviously
had a lot of practice. How I wished I had his job!

Anne's breathing had become short and urgent and I watched with
fascination as her inflamed buttocks clenched and unclenched,
frantically trying to ease the build-up of smarting pain.

The tension in the Head's study had now reached fever pitch. Diane,
forgetting her instructions about facing the wall, was watching with a
mixture of amazement and admiration at her friend's fortitude,
presumably willing her to keep it up to the bitter end. I, on the other
hand, was aching for Anne to break her silence on the final stroke. Anne
herself was obviously determined, having got this far, to maintain her
silence and her pride. Her face however registered just how difficult
that was becoming, as did that continued mobility of her thighs and
those lusciously striped bottom cheeks.

Mr. Thomas had a look of even more sheer resolve on his face as he
planted his feet further apart and focused hard on his target. He laid
the cane right along the natural line between Anne's thighs and her
backside. This stroke was going to hit virtually all bare flesh as the
'V' of her filmy panties had moulded itself into the hidden contours of
her lower bottom. She flinched at the touch of the polished wood on her
sensitive skin, but she managed to control the muscles in her bottom as
her buttocks relaxed and resumed their normal rotundity. Her fingers
were trembling as they pushed down harder onto her toes, bending them
back and causing her knuckles to go white.

The room suddenly fell very silent. All that could be heard was Anne's
deep, laboured breathing. This was soon punctuated by that familiar
'Tap, tap, tap'. To prolong the agony the Head tapped away for a much
longer time.

Tap,tap,tap,tap,tap,tap,tap,tap. Eventually he swept back the cane
dramatically. Anne drew breath sharply and held it...but the swish
didn't come. He was keeping her waiting for this one. Of course! He was
trying to catch this deceitful, yet so sexy, little minx by surprise, in
the earnest hope of intensifying her already considerable suffering.

After quite a few seconds Anne turned her head slightly, in order to see
what the Headmaster was up to. As she did so she let go of the breath
she had been holding for restraint! That was the cue he had been waiting
for.

SWISH! TTTHHHWAAAAAACK!!

She was caught completely unawares, as had been the intention, by an
incredibly hard stroke and her whole frame jerked forwards. Her head
shot back, her mouth opened wide as she gasped for breath and her eyes
dilated, wide with shock. She nervously and rapidly gulped in air to
control a scream of agony which almost emerged but was stifled. Instead,
deliberately and just retaining control, but with great feeling, she
simply said "Ooooucchh!" out loud.

She had started to straighten in a reflex action, but as she regained
her composure after the searing sting of that wicked last stroke, she
touched her toes once more and straightened her legs.

Through tightly gritted teeth she forced out the word, "Six....". Her
voice was strained, quavery and almost falsetto.

The sixth band of fire had sprung up on her lovely skin and I gazed at
her partly-visible bum. A rosy glow had now spread over all the visible
area, but the raised red ribs stood out, running alongside one another.
And beneath those flaming marks, her bared thighs trembled.

Anne's breathing had become quicker and even more desperate than ever
and her chest was heaving. It was clear from the expression on her face
that just one more stroke would probably have finished her resolve, but
the Head was a man of honour.

"Stand up, Miss Hawkins," he commanded.

Stiffly and painfully slowly Anne straightened herself up, allowing her
skirt to fall and hide that glorious and thoroughly-thrashed rear end of
hers. Her face was scarlet, her lips thin and tight as she gasped and
gulped for breath between clenched teeth. Her eyes were moist and a
solitary tear rolled down her cheek, yet she was evidently determined
not to give us the satisfaction of seeing her cry properly. Her hands
instinctively pressed against the seat of her skirt and the source of
her unconcealable pain.

"Piece of cake eh, Miss Hawkins?" taunted the Headmaster somewhat
cruelly. "Oh, that was the easy part. Your problems really start when
you have to return to class and sit down..." he consulted his watch,
"...in about two minutes."

Anne stared at a fixed point straight ahead in order to keep all her
concentration and self-control, for she was clearly only fractions away
from real tears. Indeed her beautiful eyes were already very shiny. Her
hands, tenderly cupping her stinging bottom through her skirt, were now
gingerly massaging the afflicted area.

The Headmaster walked towards the desk and laid down the cane. "Both of
you, over here!" he ordered.

Two well-punished and subdued girls shuffled forwards. Diane had stopped
crying, but was still flushed and continued to rub her bottom
vigorously, though now through her skirt.

"That was a lesson I hope you will never forget," the Head said sharply,
"but if you do, I will be only too happy to remind you - and the next
time...." he left the sentence unfinished and an unspoken threat hanging
in the air. "Now get out of my office, the pair of you!" He was stern to
the finish and it was clear to both quaking girls that they could hope
for no mercy if they were ever sent to him again.

Both girls made for the door, Anne still very stiff and smarting. As
they disappeared out of the door, both of them were rubbing their
blazing hot bottoms in a most alluring way, as if it was impossible to
take their hands away. They were utterly chastened. I felt that I really
had seen justice done!



© Lisa Grant
Not to be downloaded, reposted, reproduced or distributed, in part or
whole, without the written permission of the author.


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