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 An Exemplary Punishment



   The boys in the lower school dormitory had been teasing Miss Martin,
mainly because she was young and new to the school but from now on she was
going to be firm.  Very firm indeed.  Some of the boys had sensed that she
had run out of patience.  They had quickly said their prayers and climbed
straight into bed but half a dozen of the more adventurous spirits were
still out of there beds when she walked into the dormitory for the second
time that evening.  She looked around her, as the young rascals, laughing,
as if it was an amusing entertainment, quickly scampered across the bare
carpetless floor and jumped into there beds.  Certainly, she would have to
make an example of at least one boy to ensure such misbehavior did not
become a regular occurrence.  The child with pretty blue eyes and neat
blond hair would do nicely.  He wasn't usually one of the worst behaved but
something in his fragile, delicate nature she found delightfully appealing.
It was of course a pity that one boy should be made to suffer for the sins
of the many but that was the way it was going to be.

   Indeed, it would hardly have mattered if there were a thousand boys out
of their beds, he was the one she would always have chosen to punish. 
Perhaps she recognised something that was well hidden behind his pretty,
humorous, blue eyes.  In a way it was cruel of her to make an example of a
boy who possessed such a gentle vulnerability but she found she was quite
unable to stop herself.  In fact she felt a strange pleasure in having
caught this boy out of his bed, having so obviously disobeyed her
instructions.  A stern example must be made so the others understand that
there are painful penalties that must be paid for not doing as you are
told.

   She walked slowly across the room, all eyes were upon her.  She was
smiling.  Miss Martin might almost have been mistaken for a kindly young
aunt about to dispense gifts to a grateful young nephew.  Her high heeled
shoes scraped softly against the bare wooden floor as she elegantly walked
across the room.  Suddenly the dormitory with it's two rows of beds was
completely silent.  Outside it was dark already and she could hear the
sound of the rain softly falling against the small casement window above
the boys bed.  He looked up at her, his long curling eyelashes twitching
apprehensively.  Was she really angry or was she just playing games with
him?  His delicate face was turning pink as if he was suddenly embarrassed
to find himself the centre of attention.

   She stood so still by his bedside that he noticed a small gold ear-ring
in her ear gently vibrating with each beat of her heart.  What was so
attractive about her, was the way her black hair was pinned at the back,
revealing the gentle curve of her neck.  The silence seemed to stretch for
an eternity, until eventually she inquired.

   "And what is your name may I ask?"

   It was strange she didn't even know his name.  Well she would always
remember it in future.

   "Roberts, please Miss."he replied.  There was a soft catch in his
throat. Perhaps he should have gone straight to bed.  He trembled, unable
to meet her calm and steady gaze.

   "Get out of bed please, Roberts!"she commanded.  Her voice betrayed not
the slightest hint of anger, although she had a faint trace of an accent.
It was only by listening very carefully the boys could roughly guess where
she came from.  One of them had asked her the other day if she was
Scottish. No, not quite, she had replied laughing, she was from the far
north, from Berwick upon Tweed.

   The sheets were cool against his skin as he climbed out of the bed.  The
wooden floor was smooth underneath his bare feet.  When he stood up to his
full height he was a few inches shorter than she was.  Miss Martin was
still smiling, as if she was amused by something.  For a moment she thought
about punishing him there and then in front of the other boys but she
caught the desperate pleading look in his eyes.  Possibly it would be too
cruel to punish him in front of the others.  Yes, this time she was going
to be kind.

   "Put your dressing gown and slippers on and go upstairs and wait outside
my room!  I shall see if I can't find a way of persuading you to do as you
are told in future!"

   The boy suddenly relaxed, as if he hardly minded being punished at all.
A public humiliation would have more than he could have stood.  He was
almost sobbing with relief as he slowly put on his dressing gown.  The boy
in the next bed whispered a few words of encouragement.

   "Silence in the dormitory!"she said.  Her voice sounded strangely harsh
in the silence of the large room.  No dared to make a sound.  She waited
until Roberts had put on his light brown dressing gown and his blue
slippers.  As he turned, his eyes caught the light and she could see his
cheeks were damp with tears.  They left together.  She said nothing as she
switched off the light knowing the boys would be whispering to each other
the moment the door was closed behind her.

   "Right then, Roberts.  Wait outside my room and I shall be along to
attend to you in a few minutes."she instructed.  Her voice was matter of
fact and cold.  A single fat tear trickled down his cheek.  She felt not
the slightest sympathy, he was caught out of bed and he must face the
painful consequences.  In fact she intended to make sure that the
consequences were very painful indeed.

   He had been waiting outside her study door for almost half an hour. 
Major Ballantyne had appeared, puffing away on his pipe, oblivious of his
surroundings he had literally bumped into the young boy.

   "What is this then, Roberts?"he asked.  "In Miss Martin's bad books
already!"

   "Yes sir!"he replied.  He tried to look as if he didn't really care.  He
had managed to stop crying and was anxious not to start again.  His bottom
lip was trembling as if tears were not that far away.  The Major seemed
completely unaware of the fact the boy was deeply upset.

   "I have got you for History first lesson tomorrow haven't I?"he inquired
in an unnaturally loud voice, his glasses were perched on the extreme tip
of his nose.  His black eyebrows looked like two hairy caterpillars as he
leaned forward confidingly, his large red face seemingly too big for his
short squat body.  There was a strong whiff of aromatic tobacco mixed with
cheap whisky.

   "Yes, you have sir!" he confirmed.  It was rare that the Major
remembered anything.  As the night was young he was still stuck in no-mans
land, and half sober.  An empty bottle of scotch caused his ancient tweed
jacket to bulge as if he possessed some peculiar physical deformity.

   "Well feel free to bring a cushion if you need one!" he chuckled.  The
Major had a liking for rather obvious jokes.  Roberts tried unsuccessfully
to force his lips into a smile but the Major had turned and was already
marching off down the corridor.  The old boy meant well, at least he
imagined he did.

   It was almost a relief when some minutes later he heard Miss Martin
returning from her tour of the other dormitories.  Her face was
astonishingly beautiful but entirely without pity.  She turned a small key
in the lock, gesturing gracefully with her other hand for him to enter the
room first.  A bright fire was burning in the grate and the small room was
almost too warm.

   She switched on a small side light that stood perched on top of a glass
fronted bookcase.  A carriage clock on the mantelpiece ticked.  It was
ticking like the beat of her heart, she put her hand on her heart.  It made
her want to laugh, the ticking seemed to be growing louder.  She was
wearing a thin silk blouse and a pair of brown cotton trousers that fitted
the contours of her behind like a second skin.  When she turned away from
him he wondered idly if her trousers would split if she bent over.  It
caused a smile to briefly hover on his lips.  She turned unexpectedly and
having noticed the amused expression on his face wondered at its cause.  He
wouldn't be smiling soon, that was for sure.

   "Remove your dressing gown Roberts and give it to me.  I shall of course
ensure you wont get cold!" he slowly removed his dressing gown and handed
it to the young schoolmistress who hung it casually over the back of a
small wooden chair.  He stood dressed in pale blue pajamas with his hands
by his side as if taking part in some form of military parade.  She seated
herself comfortably behind a large oak desk, still gazing at him, as if
committing his features to memory.  That same disturbing expression on her
face.  She silently slid open a drawer in her desk and extracted a well
worn black plimsoll.

   "Take your pajama trousers down and bend over." she said.  Her eyes
never left his even for an instant as he slowly pulled down his pajamas and
bent over, his small hands resting on his knees.  He felt he didn't mind at
all being punished by her.  Still his whole body trembled as if he was
scared, the chair scraped back as she stood up.  Her thin body erect, she
possessed a gracefulness in the way she moved, silently across the room. 
She stood behind him, the black plimsoll seemed large in her small perfect
childlike hands.  She tapped it hard against her palm, it made a satisfying
smacking sound.

   "Hurry up and bend over properly, please."

   Roberts bent over a little more.  The smooth pale skin of his buttocks
glowed in the firelight.  His small round bottom reminded her of a strange
variety of exotic fruit.  There was a long pause before the plimsoll
cracked down hard across his cheeks.  He made no sound but a tear dripped
slowly off the end of his small nose, it splashed silently onto the
threadbare carpet.  Six times the slipper rose and fell.  The noise was
almost deafening in the small dimly lit room.  He made no sound at all
until the last stroke slapped across his behind when he screamed like a
little girl and began to cry.  His thin shoulders shook with grief, she
couldn't help but be moved.  She reached down and stroked his blond hair
and with a gentle gesture, slid her fingers through it.  It had a curious
silky feel.

   His bottom looked red and raw.  He was still bent over and it was not
until he heard the plimsoll being placed back into the drawer that he knew
for sure that his punishment was over.

   "You may stand up now, Roberts." she spoke with an affected calmness but
he could clearly hear the slight tremor in her voice.  Then a few moments
later after he pulled up his pajamas she continued.  "I do hope this has
been a lesson for you and we shall not have to do this again."

   It was a lie of course, she didn't hope anything of the sort.  Next time
though she would use the cane.  She had a nice thin one in the drawer just
waiting for a boy like him.  He put on his dressing gown and turned to go.
His eyes looked sore where he had been crying.  She opened the door for
him. His bottom was still tingling as he made his way back down the
deserted corridor.  She stood leaning against the door watching him go. 
Her eyes shone as he slowly disappeared from her view..

   "Remember, I shall always be watching you."she whispered but already he
had turned the corner and was gone.