“Come in,” said Crimsley harshly, as he walked past the waiting area beside his office.
Silently the nine girls stood and trooped into the office behind the headmaster.
“You know why you are here, don’t you?” He said, standing behind his desk, looking out over the pretty young girls standing
nervously before him. A few nodded heads signified recognition. “Speak up girls,” he added.
“Yes, sir,” some of them mumbled.
“Well, just in case there is any doubt, you are here because en masse you were caught in the town yesterday in lunch break; not by
one of my staff but by the local police and, according to them, three of you were caught with stolen property in your bags and the other six
made false statements to try and protect them. So, we will start at one end, and work our way down the line. What do you have to say for
“Nothing sir,” said Tammy Verica, the first in line. The other girls followed suit, which angered the headmaster that none of them
were prepared to offer an explanation.
“Miss Schlum, why did you steal two bottles of perfume?”
“I, I needed to get something for my Mum’s birthday, tomorrow.”
“Well, stealing is not the answer, is it?”
“No, sir,” the softly spoken 18 year old red-head with full breasts muttered.
“And you know the school’s policy on theft, don’t you?”
“Yes, sir, twelve strokes of the cane.”
“Precisely, that is what we give to the younger girls. When you reach the sixth form and eighteen, matters are more serious. We
could allow the police to deal with you direct, but as we know the officers who attended the incident, he has given the school first option
to administer due punishment. If you would prefer to be dealt with by the police ...”
“No, sir, please don’t do that. That would mean my parents find out and my Dad would go berserk with me.”
“So, the alternative for you is a dozen strokes of the cane, a dozen by the plimsoll and a dozen with the leather tawse.”
“My God that will kill me.” Fiona Schlum had gone pale and tears were in her eyes at the pronouncement of her sentence.
“It won’t, but it will leave a memory you will never forget. Miss Mason, you were caught stealing clothes in the same spree of
criminal activity. An explanation please.” Crimsley had sat down now as he turned his attention to the leggy blonde with pert breasts and
shoulder length hair.
“I don’t have one, sir. It was just on impulse.”
“I see, well you too can either accept the same punishment as Miss Schlum or we will hand you back to the police.”
“I’ll take the punishment.”
“I thought you might. Miss Linhouse, your explanation for the clothing you stole.”
Heather Linhouse was also blonde, shorter and stockier than Rebecca Mason, and had a bosom that heaved as it tried to escape from
behind her school blouse.
“Again, I don’t have any explanation, sir,” she said demurely.
“Same choice, police or punishment?”
“Punishment, sir,” she replied, her voice faltering.
“Very well, then. Now you other six are being treated as accomplices. So each of you will either be dealt with by the police or you
will receive a dozen strokes of the cane and a dozen strokes of the tawse. If you want to be dealt with by the police, please go back to the
waiting room now.”
Not one girl moved. A sense of ‘we’re all in this together’ seemed to have pervaded the group of girls and the six accomplices
seemed determined to support the actual thieves by accepting their own punishments.
“In that case, the six accomplices will go and stand over by the long wall behind you. Turn to face the wall and put your hands on
your heads. You three little thieves will first of all receive the dozen strokes of the plimsoll.”
Crimsley waited while the six girls took up their positions facing the wall with their hands on their heads. Miss Linhouse and Miss
Mason, you will turn round and face the others, again with your hands on your heads. Miss Schlum, take up position over the edge of my
The girls followed their instructions obediently. Fiona Schlum walked over to the desk and bent over it. Crimsley opened a drawer in
his desk and retrieved the size 12 gym slipper he used for punishments. Then he walked back round the desk.
“Miss Schlum this will hurt you a lot more than it hurts me.” As he spoke, Fiona felt her pleated skirt being raised over her waist,
exposing her bottom and her regulation dark blue panties. Then she felt the panties being arranged so the back bunched into the crack
between her buttocks, preserving her modesty but exposing almost all the flesh of her behind. Next, she felt the hard rubber sole of the
slipper rubbing her bottom in preparation for her punishment.
Fiona gasped loudly when the slipper landed the first time with a loud slapping sound. The stroke was hard, the sole of the slipper
crushing into her bottom as it delivered its stinging message of correction.
“Arrrgggghh!” Fiona gasped again a few seconds later as the slipper added a second imprint to her bare bottom. She felt Crimsley’s
hand on her mid-back, holding her down as he added a third and then fourth very hard stroke to her rapidly reddening backside.
Fiona reached round with her hands to try and offer some protection to her behind but Crimsley simply grabbed her wrists and pushed
her arms up behind her back, forcing her into the table.
Strokes five and six flooded fresh pain through her buttocks, and Fiona let the first real tears flow as she cried out with the
intense pain. Crimsley wasted no time in delivering the final six strokes of the plimsoll, not waiting for the young girl’s reaction to each
stroke before delivering the next. Then, when Fiona thought her bottom could hurt no more, the plimsoll delivered its twelfth and final
stroke mid-buttock, causing the hapless girl to howl with pain.
“Tut tut,” said Crimsley scathingly. “This is just the first part of your punishment, we have hardly started. You have much worse to
come later on.”
“No sir, please no, I don’t think I can take any more,” she blubbed through her sobbing.
“Nonsense girl. Stand up and take your position over by the wall with the others. Put your hands on your heads and don’t you dare
rub your bottom. The pain is there for a reason and it will get much worse with the cane and the tawse. Miss Linhouse, assume the position
over my desk.”
Heather Linhouse was already streaming tears down her cheeks when she turned round and walked to the desk. As soon as she was bent
over the table her skirt was raised over her waist and then the panties were bunched into the crack between her buttocks.