BELINDA BECOMES A PREFECT

BY TOMMY

Part 2

Belinda's first week as a Prefect

The huge lobby at the bottom of the stairs was filled with the
usual throng of girls rushing from here to there, the normal ten
minute mad panic before lessons that was typical of a Monday
morning. Girls carrying pieces of toast that they had taken from
the dining hall – quite against the rules – collided with other
girls rummaging through their bags. Tall Sixth formers pushed
small Third year girls out of their way.

John Gill paused at the top of the marble steps and smiled at the
mayhem.  A faint but unmistakable odour drifted up to his
nostrils, the exciting aroma so typical of a girl’s school. The
weekend had been relaxing. A row on the river, a long hike
through the countryside and drinks with other staff on Sunday
afternoon. The weather had been glorious and he'd taken a small
group of girls for a ramble around the grounds after chapel,
pointing out the variety of insect life that could be found if
one just looked under stones and pieces of bark.

Like the rest of the staff, he had agreed whole heartedly with
the new rules and was keen to implement them, as was his
colleague and very close friend, James Treadgold, the school's
History teacher. He sighed. Of course, one had to use expressions
like 'close friend', if one wished to avoid closer examination of
one's private life!

A teacher at the school for the last seven years, he now felt at
home and was eternally grateful to Tom Stevens for his kind offer
of a post teaching Science, albeit with a strong emphasis on
Biology. Girls didn't really want to worry about physics and
chemistry.

After the first few years, it had dawned on him that Tom's
reasons for employing people such as himself, which would have
seemed bizarre if not suspicious to some people, actually had a
great deal of logic. Something he would never have suggested to
anyone apart from the Headmaster himself, was that, in his
opinion, the employment of male homosexuals was rather an
advantage.

Of course, he enjoyed some of the perks of the job. After all,
who could possibly not appreciate the sight of a pert female
bottom spread across ones lap, slowly getting redder, the
wriggling girl held down firmly on top of a growing bulge in ones
trousers, or the thrill of exploring a soft pussy, all without
having any desire of further sexual involvement? No, the girls
were perfectly safe at this school! His job was an absolute
delight and there was hardly a day went by without him silently
thanking Tom for his good luck.

Thanks to the efficiency of the school's long established
supplier of uniforms, a consignment of new underwear had already
been delivered, with more promised as soon as they received
favourable feedback from the school with any suggestions for
improvement. Most of the staff had already had a chance to
examine the thin cotton garments and had asked a few girls to try
them on. Despite the reservations of the girls themselves, the
teachers had been unanimous in their praise for the slightly
shorter and tighter vests but most of all for the improved cut
and shape of the knickers. Having pre-empted the comments of the
Headmaster, the tailors had decided to alter the design and
elasticity to the extent that three quarters of the buttocks were
left exposed and the material at the front moulded itself to the
girl as if a second skin. John couldn't remember ever seeing such
delightful camel toes before! The staff were also pleased to
learn that the same design would serve both for PE as well as for
everyday use. James had made the comment, with his normal
sledgehammer wit, that the regular matches against girls from
other schools would no doubt have a lot more spectators from now
on.

Downstairs at the door to the main hall, he could see the usual
crowd of girls all jostling for a look at the list on the
noticeboard. He chuckled to himself as he remembered Matron's
explanation the night before, and his conversation with James a
bit later. Poor things! Oh, and Belinda now a Prefect! He
grinned. James had become quite excited by it all. They hadn't
fallen asleep till very late!

The girls pushed each other out of the way, some only mildly
interested to see whose names were on the list, others rather
desperate.

"Gosh, look! I told you so! Look how many from the fourth year!"

"Crikey! Laura and Ashley as well!" Two girls from the third year
suddenly looked very pale.

"Hey Linda! You're down twice!"

"So is Beatrice and Angela!"

"Oh God! I don't believe it. Belinda's three times!"

"You're joking?"

"No, look!"

The girls pushed closer, each trying to see the list of names.
Belinda was at the back, pretending to stay rather aloof, yet as
interested as any of them. A shiny metal badge pinned to the
strap of her gymslip announced to all who saw it that she was now
a Prefect. Having received it on Friday, she had spent much of
the day and weekend walking around the school letting people see
it.

The girls looked round.

"Hey Belinda, you're down three times!" The noise suddenly
diminished considerably. Three times?

The effort to appear nonchalant and unperturbed was exhausting.

Nevertheless, Belinda quickly pushed her way to the front, the
girls moving out of her way in respect to her new status.

She scanned the list, her heart beating fast, her mouth suddenly
very dry.  The three entries were pretty much self-explanatory.
The first, 'B.Rule' was clearly for disregarding the rule about
the length of pubic hair, the second 'L.Respect' relating to what
Old Browny must have said and the third 'L.Chast' was due to what
Miss Carstairs had found when Belinda had returned to her
dormitory after the meeting with the Headmaster. The third entry
had the letters VWSA7 added. What that meant exactly, she wasn't
sure, but she could guess!

The girls stared at her, anxious for an explanation. Belinda the
Prefect!

"Oh, that?" Belinda gave a forced laugh, hoping it sounded
genuine. "Oh that's just a mistake obviously." She stroked her
badge and shrugged.  "Naturally! Mistakes happen all the time."
She quickly looked round the lobby. No teachers in earshot?

"Tom has clearly made a mistake. I'll have to speak to him about
that."  She sighed and checked her nails. "In fact I'll insist on
it."

The girls gasped. Nobody called the Headmaster by his first name!
Not even the teachers!

"Oh yes, Tom can be such an ass sometimes! When we were chatting
last week, he said…"

"Belinda!!" The deep voice echoed around the lobby and the girls
jumped en masse.

John Gill glared down at the girls from the top of the stairs.
"Belinda! How dare you! Girls, get to your class. Now!!"

He stared at her for a few seconds, then turned and walked off,
face red with anger. How dare she talk about the Headmaster like
that!

Having calmed down a few hours later, he went to the list
himself, a grim look on his face. At the bottom of the list he
wrote Belinda's name, 'L.Respect' and initialled it JG. Later in
the evening the list would be taken by one of the teachers to the
Headmaster and the updated version prepared for the following
morning.

The first two classes that morning were absolute hell for
Belinda. The girls stared at her whenever they could,
occasionally whispering to each other, and keeping one eye on the
teacher. Try as she might, she couldn't concentrate on what the
teachers were saying, and it was only the restlessness among the
other girls that distracted the teachers' attention away from
her.

During the third class, Miss Teal had to ask her twice to pay
attention.  The second time, she was about to reach into her bag
for the brand new wooden paddle she'd been given, when something
made her hesitate. She was a strict teacher, but she had seen the
list herself that morning. Slowly she replaced her bag on the
desk and continued the lesson.

By lunchtime, Belinda had begun to calm down. Ever an optimist,
she had played out numerous scenarios in her head, which,
combined with the typical imagination of a child, had convinced
her that it must surely be some terrible mistake after all. The
Headmaster hadn't been angry about her hair, had he? Not really!
Besides, like all the girls, she'd spent a few sessions with the
Matron on Friday and Saturday being shown how to shave it off. He
surely wouldn't punish her now!

Oh yes, Old Browny must have put her name on the list, but she'd
been as good as gold during his lesson on Friday. Having handed
him the strange long paddle and the note, she'd been a model
student, paying attention and even asking the occasional question
about the division sums they were doing. She knew that Old Browny
loved it when girls showed an interest.

The matter of Miss Carstairs was a slightly more complicated
problem, and she knew that she would have to rely on her luck and
cunning to get out of that. Yes, she had been most awfully wet
and the damp patch on her knickers had been noticed immediately.
Having been curtly ordered to the shower and to bed, she hadn't
had a chance to discuss the matter. But maybe, if she spoke to
Miss Carstairs later? A rather naïve girl, like most of the
girls, having received no sex education whatsoever, the
connection between the inspection of her private parts and the
dampness had not been as clear as it should have been. She knew
the tingling feeling was somehow to blame and she knew it was
wrong, but surely she should be able to control it? Yes, she
would speak to Miss Carstairs and ask her very, very politely if
she could let her off just this once.

As the day wore on, Belinda's imagination continued to spin such
a diverse sequence of scenarios in her head, that by six o'clock
she was back to her normal bubbly self. After all, she was a
Prefect now! If she had noticed the glances of some of the
teachers, the slightly softer tone of voice in which they talked
to her or the fact that she wasn't punished for failing a
Geography test, she may have changed her mind.

Naturally, as she munched her way through an ample serving of
chicken pie, a few doubts surfaced now and then. It was only on
leaving the dining hall that the doubts grew stronger.

One of the teachers was standing outside, as they did every day
at this time, a piece of paper in their hands. Today, it was Mr
Treadgold's turn.  As the girls passed him, he checked the list.

"Linda, Elaine, Beatrice! Headmaster's study! Angela, Lucy,
Annabel, you too!"

"Matilda, Gloria, Janet. You as well."

He saw Belinda. "Belinda! Headmaster's study. Fifteen minutes!"

The names continued, though Belinda didn't hear them. Her heart
was beating too loudly. Must be a mistake. Of course. Of course!

Nevertheless, she rushed with the others up to the bathroom. It
was a golden yet unofficial rule that, whenever visiting the
Headmaster, girls should brush their hair, wash their face, scrub
their nails, go to the toilet and use the bidet. One never knew
what sort of mood he'd be in, and there were plenty of stories of
girls receiving extra punishment just for turning up looking
insufficiently well-groomed. Some girls changed their blouses.
Most put on a fresh pair of the new style knickers. Everyone used
the toilet.

The queue was long and some girls started to panic and tried to
push their way to the front. Belinda was one of the last to
arrive and surveyed the scene with the realisation that she'd
never have time. So many girls?  There were never more than a few
girls from the fourth year included each evening. The Headmaster
had obviously decided to deal with them all at the same time!

It was no good. Seeing she had only two minutes left, Belinda
flew along the corridor, up some stairs and along another
corridor to the west wing.  Here she slowed her pace. Running was
against the rules. Not exactly something that would be dealt with
by the Headmaster, but she was taking no chances. She could
already hear the noise of the girls as she turned the corner.

Miss Carstairs was waiting for them, checking her watch every few
seconds.  Belinda looked round and saw the last five or six girls
approaching.

"Okay girls." Sally Carstairs voice was quiet but as hard as
iron. "There are twenty two of you tonight, so we have to be very
quiet. “She looked at their faces, some resigned others
terrified. "The rules are slightly different now. You will remove
your shoes, gymslips, blouse and knickers, put your shoes next to
you and hold the clothes folded neatly in your hands, facing the
wall. You have exactly sixty seconds, starting from now."

She spoke very slowly and clearly. Sixty seconds was quite enough
time, but if there were any girls who hadn't understood
correctly, Sally would have time to assist them before the time
was up. She was a strict woman but not cruel. If a child
genuinely hadn't understood something, she would always help.

A brief pause, then the girls obeyed, quickly pulling their
things off, anxious not to be one of the last. It was rare, but
not unknown for the Headmaster to come and watch them.

The minutes passed slowly, the ticking clock suddenly seeming
very loud. A Sixth Form girl walked past carrying a pile of
books, staring in surprise at the twenty two bare bottoms on
display. The girls were absolutely silent, apart from a few
sniffs and quiet sobbing from Laura and Ashley, the two third
year girls. Sally Carstairs could understand their fear. The
transition from Lower to Middle school was quite a leap and the
girls had no idea which cane the Headmaster would use, or how
hard.

Sally went over and put her hands on their shoulders. "Oh do grow
up you two!" she said gently. "Breaking a school rule is only
three strokes. It'll all be over before you know it, and you'll
wonder what all the fuss was about." She tickled them both and
went back to her spot outside the door. She didn't want to let
them know, but the experience wouldn't be nearly as bad as they
imagined. Not only were they two of the brightest and well
behaved girls in the third year, but it had become clear that not
only had they sprouted pubic hair in the last six months and were
unaware of how long it was, but they had never been informed
about the school rules regarding its length. Sally knew that
ignorance of school rules was no excuse, but the Headmaster would
most likely be lenient with them.

"Its Belinda here you should be feeling sorry for" she said so
everyone could hear. "She's in the fourth year, but she's a
Prefect now and that means the senior cane!"

Belinda bit her lip and felt a tear running down her cheek. Miss
Carstairs was wrong! It was all a mistake. She'd see! The senior
cane was for the Sixth Form and some Fifth year girls. He'd never
use one on a Fourth year!

The clock struck seven o'clock. Sally sighed and took Laura
gently by the arm. "Clothes on this chair. Good girl. Remember,
hands on head, say "Good evening Sir" and do exactly what he
says. She put her mouth to the girl's ear and whispered "It’s
okay!" I told him you didn't know about the rule!"

Laura entered the study, tears streaming down her face. Two
minutes later, she emerged, hands still on her head, still
crying, but yet a completely different expression on her face.
There was no fear, just relief and even a small twinkle. Two thin
red lines spanned her small buttocks.

"Okay Laura, put your things back on! Ashley, you next. Quickly!
Don't keep the Headmaster waiting!"

Ashley was out even faster, sporting two red lines like Laura.
Sally sighed. Mr Stevens was being remarkably lenient and very
fast today.  Though that may have something to do with the sheer
number of girls!

"Right you two, the new rules say that you should wait here with
the others until the end, but the Headmaster told me that
tonight, you may return to your common room. Still plenty of time
to play before bed." Sally watched them walk away, as quickly as
they possibly could without actually running.

She looked at the list, hoping that the Headmaster would be
satisfied with how she was organising the girls. The girls could
never know of course, but he was just as strict with the female
teaching staff, and many nights she had gone back to her rooms
that she shared with Liz Teal, her buttocks covered with raised
weals from the Headmaster's cane and her pussy wet from his long
detailed inspections. Not that she minded of course. It seemed to
spice up their evenings no end!

"Janet, you next!" Sally checked the list. "Quickly now! Clothes
neatly on the chair here. That's right."

Five minutes later, Sally checked her watch, noticing how the
Headmaster seemed to be remarkably efficient. Three more girls
had already been dealt with, the three lines on their bottoms
slightly wider and redder than the first two girls, who were now
probably busy showing their stripes off to their friends and
embellishing the event with their own imagination.

The next three were Linda, Beatrice and Angela, the girls who'd
seen their names entered twice on the list. Both exited the study
in floods of tears and with six sore looking weals. Sally was
surprised. She knew that they were being punished for both
breaking a school rule and disrespect of a teacher. Being
disrespectful towards a teacher usually had a mandatory
punishment of six strokes, so in theory, they should have
received nine!

All girls were instructed in the new rules and to their horror,
were told to return to facing the wall, holding their clothes.
From time to time, somebody would pass them and the girls would
cringe with embarrassment as the row of caned bottoms on show
grew longer.

Sally continued to send in the girls. A few times, a girl would
come back out, sporting not three, but four, and once, even five
red lines. She didn't enquire, since the girls would be too busy
sobbing, but she guessed that it was either because they hadn't
shaved themselves properly or maybe hadn't prepared themselves
sufficiently well. The Headmaster was a stickler for presentation
and hygiene and never tolerated any girl who was not one hundred
percent clean in the area about to be inspected or caned.

It was finally Belinda's turn. The last girl to go in. Sally saw
how pale she looked, yet something in her eyes betrayed a hope
that it may still be all a terrible mistake.

"Your turn, Belinda. Hands on head, greet the Headmaster politely
and I'm sure that you'll be out very soon." She looked again at
her watch and yawned. She opened the door and gently pushed the
terrified girl inside, then closed it and waited, a thin smile on
her face.

The huge study was very quiet. No smell of cigar smoke this time.
Belinda saw Reverend Bingham sitting in one of the armchairs,
though turned to face the desk. A large standard lamp stood
between the armchair and desk, something Belinda had noticed
before, its shade tilted so that the light illuminated the space
next to the desk where he always made the girls stand. Mr Stevens
was next to his desk upon which she noticed three canes.  One was
clearly the cane he'd used on the third year girls; its
suppleness obvious by the way it was already curved in two
places. She recognised the second immediately as had most of the
fourth year girls; the same length as the first but much
straighter. The third cane was slightly shorter, a fraction
thicker and perfectly straight as though it had never been used.
She swallowed nervously, recognising it as one of the dreaded
senior canes!

"Good evening Belinda. How are you today?"

She stood there dumbstruck. Mr Stevens had spoken in such a
friendly way and he was smiling.

"I am very well Sir. Thank you Sir."

Tom gazed at her with interest. What a brilliant idea it had been
to change the system. So much easier. No more messing around with
gymslips and knickers round the ankles. Every girl now presented
herself clad only in vest and short ankle socks. He wondered if
they had any idea how they looked. Probably not. Most were far
too preoccupied with what lay in store for them.

"Excellent. Tell me, did you have a pleasant Sunday? The weather
was rather fine, I thought."

Belinda's hopes were raised. He was being so nice! "Oh yes Sir.
Thank you Sir."

Tom nodded and looked at the girl's pussy. Finally! Perfectly
smooth! "So how does it feel to be a Prefect? Not too busy I
hope, keeping an eye on the other girls?"

"Err, no Sir, it's very nice." Belinda was tempted to move her
hands down from her head, but wisely decided against it.

"Good, good." Tom looked down at the large book in front of him.
"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, Belinda. I'm sure you must
have so many things to do." To her horror, he picked up the
senior cane and pointed to the spot five feet away from the desk
that the girls knew so well. "If you wouldn't mind bending over
please?"

The room seemed to spin. She looked at the cane and swallowed.
"Um, please Sir...I mean...”

Tom smiled kindly and tapped the book. "Breaking a school rule.
Three strokes." He laughed. "Yes Belinda, I know what you're
thinking. You're a Prefect now and you think you deserve more,
but I'm sticking to three." He wagged his finger and laughed.
"Okay? Now then…"

Jeffrey hid his mouth, trying not to laugh. Tom was so funny
sometimes.

Belinda felt she should be saying more, but she found herself
walking to the spot, her legs moving as if they had a mind of
their own. She bit her lip and sniffed, looking once at the
Headmaster before bending over and grasping her ankles.

"Oh I say Belinda, no need for that anymore!" Tom laughed again.
"Please, just rest your elbows or your hands on your knees, or
just hold your legs.  Whatever is convenient? No need to bend so
far over."

Belinda did as he said and Tom spent a few more seconds adjusting
her position until he was satisfied. Back horizontal, legs three
feet apart. Perfect!

"If you'd just like to straighten your legs a bit more, yes? Oh
perfect."  Tom checked that Jeffrey had a good view and winked at
him. The act of straightening her legs ensured that her pussy was
pushed further up and out.

"Excellent Belinda. Now I just have to perform the usual
inspection and we can start. I know that as a Prefect, you're
setting an example and I don't see why I have to do this, but...”
He sighed. "Headmasters have to obey the rules as well!"

Belinda already had a few tears running down her cheeks. It
wasn't fair!  Yes, she'd broken the rule but… Yet deep down, she
knew it was entirely fair! She suddenly flinched as fingers ran
gently over her vulva. She had shaved herself. She knew she had!
Matron had checked and everything! The fingers stayed where they
were and one ran down between her smooth pussy lips.

"Much better than last time!" Tom patted her soft mound.
"Excellent Belinda!"

He couldn't help but notice that she seemed a little sweatier
than usual.  True, the girls often sweated when they were scared,
but this? Slowly, he parted her buttocks, checked she was clean
and ran his hand over them. Strange?

"Err, Belinda, did you avail yourself of the bidet before you
came here?"  His voice was still friendly but sounded puzzled.

There was no hesitation. From years of experience, Belinda had
learned that even if telling the truth meant a severe punishment,
the consequences of being discovered to have told a lie were far,
far worse. "No Sir. Sorry Sir." She felt his hand running over
her bottom.

"Why not?"

"Belinda sniffed. Please Sir, I wanted to and tried Sir, but
there were too many girls in front of me going in the bathroom
Sir, and I was scared about being late and…"

Tom nodded and looked at Jeffrey. Of course, he should have
guessed. He'd forgotten about the logistics of dealing with so
many girls from the same year at the same time. Gosh, the panic
in their bathroom! He grinned. He couldn't really blame her, yet…

"I understand Belinda. But, you must have seen your name on the
list. As Prefect, you could easily have asked permission to leave
the dining hall a bit earlier. Yes?"

"Yes Sir. Sorry Sir." Belinda answered quietly, her voice tugging
at Tom's heartstrings.

"Okay, I think I'll overlook it this time. I must admit it was
partly our fault for not organising things a bit better. Now
then…"

He looked at the time and gripped the cane. "Gosh, we really must
get on!  He tapped her with the tip. "Bottom nice and still!" He
placed himself to one side so that the cane lay perfectly flat
across her bottom, with the tip reaching only halfway across the
far buttock. With the natural extension of the arm and wrist that
occurred during the delivery, this ensured that the tip would end
up reaching the far edge, but not enough to nick the sides of her
hips.

There was a loud swishing sound and a sharp crack as the cane
fell right across the centre of her large buttocks. Belinda
gasped, and then screamed as the pain hit her. She was used to
the sharp sting of a cane, but this was unbelievable! It was as
though the cane had penetrated below the skin and was sending
waves of pain outwards. Her bottom moved up and down, her
buttocks clenching and relaxing, her knuckles white as she
gripped the back of her legs, just below the knees. Three times,
her knees bent and straightened as if attempting to waft away the
agony.

Jeffrey shook his head. What a fuss! He'd assumed that Tom would
use one of the senior canes he reserved for the sixth form
prefects, but at the last moment, he'd changed his mind and had
selected a slightly less terrifying version he generally used for
the Fifth form and girls just starting the Lower Sixth.

Tom waited ten seconds and tapped the lower part of Belinda's
bottom. He saw Jeffrey lean forward.

The crack echoed around the study. Belinda screamed and leapt in
the air, then performed a series of what looked like a form of
bunny hops in a circle, her hands clasped to the back of her
thighs, before halting and shaking her legs in a comical way that
suggested to Tom that she was attempting to run on the spot, but
not getting it quite right.

"Sir!!! Please!! Owwwwww!! Oooooohhhh" The tears ran down her
cheeks and splashed on the floor. Never could she have imagined
anything like this!  She felt the ridges already forming on her
bottom and pressed them as if keeping the pain from going
anywhere else.

Tom pretended not to hear, but pointed to the spot she'd just
vacated.  "Bottom still please, Belinda! One extra for moving!"

It was a tribute to the school's traditional insistence on blind
obedience, that Belinda felt her legs again seeming to move of
their own accord, and once again presented her sore buttocks for
punishment. "Nooooo…please!!!"

Tom shook his head and smiled at Jeffrey. Secretly, he was
surprised that the girl hadn't tried to plead with him or taken
longer to get back into position. Maybe her pain threshold was
higher than he'd judged?

The rules about behaviour during a caning were fairly simple. A
certain amount of wriggling and gyrating of buttocks was
tolerated, though this was at Tom's discretion. The golden rule
however was that the girl as a whole had to stay where she was.
Up to thirty seconds of frantic ballet type steps on the spot may
be acceptable, but if she moved from her place, an extra stroke
had to be given.

The third and fourth strokes were placed next to each other in
quick succession, just above the first. Belinda screamed and
wiggled her hindquarters side to side, then up and down, gripping
her legs till she felt her nails would pierce the flesh,
desperate to remain in place no matter what and avoid another
extra stroke.

The sobs continued, diminishing in volume only after a minute had
passed. Tom waited patiently, knowing that it was pointless to
say anything until she could hear him properly. He ran his finger
along one of the weals. Yes, they'd be bruising, but he was
pretty sure that after three and a half years at the school, a
girl like Belinda would lose the marks in less than a week.

Belinda continued to cry, albeit more quietly and made the men
laugh with a particularly loud sniff. Naturally, she wouldn't
dare stand up until ordered.

Tom looked at the punishment book. "Well, well, Belinda, I can't
believe how lucky you are!" He returned to the girl and ran the
cane over her throbbing buttocks.

"Sir?" She sniffed again and quickly wiped her eyes.

"Well, I'm sure you realise that you were on Doctor Brown's list
with the other three girls." He tapped her bottom gently.
"Naturally, the punishment for showing such disrespect to a
teacher is six strokes, as I'm sure you know. But yesterday, I
was talking with Doctor Brown and he told me that on Friday, all
the girls were incredibly well behaved, and you especially,
impressed him with your questions." Tom paused. "He asked me to
be lenient with the girls on the list, so I offered to halve the
number of strokes to three."

Tom hadn't agreed with Roderick Brown, but due the huge respect
he had for his old university lecturer, he had felt obliged to
agree to his wishes.

"Obviously, I am not happy with this, but I agreed. However…" He
ran the cane down between her buttocks and rested it on her
sweaty vulva. "I am rather worried about offending your feelings
as a school prefect." He saw Jeffrey chuckle and tried not to
laugh. "I'm sure that, as a Prefect, you want to see the school
rules respected. So tell me Belinda. Should I give you three
strokes or the obligatory six strokes? Which would you prefer?"

It took a few seconds for it to sink in. The caning wasn't over?
He was talking about more? She started to cry again, the weals
throbbing in sympathy. Please! Not fair! "Sir…please! I
can't…please…"

"Was that six or three? I didn't quite hear. Did you say six
strokes, Belinda? Well, if that's what you…"

"Three! Three strokes Sir! Please Sir!" More sobbing ensued.

"Okay, let's say three more, and we can all have a nice early
night, hmm?"  He saw Jeffery look at his watch. Oh yes, he'd
forgotten about Jeffrey's study group!"

Belinda couldn't believe it was happening. Her whole bottom was
throbbing and all she wanted to do was get back to the bathroom
and sit on the bidet for hours, the cold tap on full!

"Legs straighter please!"

The swish and crack that followed had her howling loud enough to
shake the walls, or so it seemed. Jeffrey noticed how Tom managed
to place the strokes close together, yet not quite overlapping,
something that would most likely have her do another war dance
around the study. Between her legs he could see her gritting her
teeth, tears dropping on the floor, eyes closed tight, and
knuckles white as she fought her natural instinct to jump about.

It would have seemed terribly cruel to some people, but in fact,
he knew that similar scenarios were occurring in schools all over
the country.  Seven years of strict discipline and the girls
would leave the school extraordinarily well educated and with the
strength and self-discipline to cope with anything that life
could throw at them. He sighed with contentment, remembering the
letters that he'd received from ex-pupils, already asking him to
reserve places for their own children!

"Last two! Keep that bottom up! Good girl!"

How Belinda managed to stay in position, she never quite
understood, her mind being far too busy coping with the searing
agony pulsating from the nasty looking weals, but somehow she
did, though no doubt she was helped by the small part of her
brain that was reminding what would happen if she moved from her
position again!

Jeffery nodded with approval. Tom was a stunningly accurate
caner, and, apart from that one excruciating stroke at the top of
her thighs, had managed to fit them all in the upper half of her
rather expansive buttocks, leaving room for plenty more. The
maximum number of strokes permitted on any one day was twelve,
which meant another five if Tom so wished, though he very much
doubted that Tom would be quite so cruel! A thin smile formed on
his lips. He could guess why Tom had left the lower half of her
bottom unscathed. Her name appearing on the list so many times?
He wondered how many days he'd give her to recover before a
repeat performance. Of course, he could order her back the
following evening, but that was unlikely given the circumstances
and her age, though he rarely waited more than a few days.

"Tom surveyed his handiwork and placed the cane back on his desk.
He walked over to the sideboard. "Sherry?" Jeffrey nodded, and he
poured them both a small measure of a rather nice dry vintage
he'd recently had delivered from London.

They toasted each other and waited patiently for the sobbing to
die down.  Tom much preferred the girls to leave the office with
at least a modicum of decorum.

"Very well, Belinda, you may stand. Hands on head please!"

The pathetic girl straightened up, wishing she could clasp her
backside.  How it had hurt! She was desperate to get to the
bathroom, not just for the soothing effects of cold water, but to
check her bottom in the mirror. She also needed to pee. Quite
badly!

Tom made a note in the punishment book and smiled at her. "Oh,
your face.  Just wait…" He took his handkerchief and wiped her
eyes and cheeks. "Can't have our new prefect leaving with a
streaky face, can we?" He wiped the side of her face one more
time and sighed. "Well, Belinda, thank you for coming. When you
go out, would you be kind enough to ask Miss Carstairs to pop in
as soon as she's free? Thank you very much."

He went to the door and opened it for her, as he'd done the last
time. "Good night."

Sally Carstairs watched Belinda walk slowly out of the office.
She'd rather hoped to be finished by now and was not in a good
mood. "Okay Belinda, go and face the wall please. You can stay
there while I dismiss the others."  She turned to the girls,
their eyes following Belinda and widening with horror as she
walked slowly and sadly to the far end of the line, her bottom
half covered with nasty dark red weals, patches of bruising
already appearing.

"Okay, the rest of you may get dressed and leave. Quickly now!
Sixty seconds to get your things back on, or else. No running!
Come on!"

The girls wasted no time in leaving, some anxious to see their
stripes in the mirror, others anxious to get back for the half an
hour or so of free time left before heading to the showers. "Okay
Belinda, you may leave." Sally looked at the girl's bottom and
shrugged. Pretty severe for a fourth year girl, but she'd get
used to it.  They always did. As a rule, the Headmaster graded
the canes quite carefully so the girls got used to the increase
in severity as they moved up through the school. Belinda had
taken a bit of a short cut. That was all.

"Please Miss?" Belinda turned, her hands still on her head,
hoping to impress the teacher with her meekness. "Please Miss, Mr
Stevens told me to ask you if you could please go and have a
word, Miss."

Sally nodded. "Okay. Get dressed. Quickly!" She waited while
Belinda put her blouse on, the girl wincing as her knickers were
pulled over sore skin and quickly put on her gymslip and shoes.

"Err, please Miss?  I...err...”

"What is it Belinda? Sally was getting impatient. She didn't want
to keep the Headmaster waiting and since she wasn't on dormitory
duty, she'd be free in an hour, as would Liz Teal. "What?"

Belinda looked down and blushed. "Please Miss, I'm sorry about
last Thursday evening." She put on what she hoped was her very
saddest and sorry look. "I didn't know I was so wet, Miss. I
don't know how it happened, Miss. I'm so sorry and I promise it
won't happen again. I'm so sorry Miss and I thought if you
could.... if you take my name off the list, please Miss?"

Sally's eyes narrowed. She understood! She spoke slowly. "Listen
Belinda.  You are now at the age when these things will happen
more frequently and you will have to learn self-control. "She
clapped her hands and looked at her watch. “Now, get back to your
common room! I will be checking on you in thirty minutes, and
you'd better be in the shower by then. Go!"

She watched the young girl walk dismally down the corridor and
laughed. Stupid girl!

Now for the Headmaster. She'd been at the school long enough to
know why he wanted to see her. The girls had made an awful noise
at the beginning and end, and she hadn't organised their
undressing and dressing very well. She should have made them do
it in twos or threes, rather than all together.

She tapped politely on the door, shivering at the thought of the
senior cane slashing down on her buttocks, yet there was a
twinkle in her eye.   Reverend Bingham was with the Headmaster.
Would the Headmaster allow the Reverend to inspect her as he had
done last time? Like all the female staff, she had always kept
herself shaved smooth 'down there' but being an adult, the rules
on modesty and chastity didn't apply as it did to the girls. The
Reverend had such a way with his fingers! Oh, and the way he
could keep her on the edge for what seemed ages and then suddenly
make her orgasm so quickly without warning!

The caning was always painful but Liz would put some cream on the
weals, kiss her bottom all over, and then move her lips to
somewhere much more exciting. What a pleasant evening they were
going to have!

***

Jeffrey sank lower in his comfortable armchair and wiped his
mouth with a napkin. The pie sent over to his cottage had been
delicious and a glass of port had helped wash it down. Though
often dining with Tom in the evenings, he rather enjoyed the
simple meals in his cottage. So quiet apart from the old
grandfather clock in the corner, and the occasional distant
chimes of the church bells signalling that an hour had passed.

In the corner of the living room, five small girls from the first
year were busy working their way through the Latin exercises he'd
set them, a small copy of 'A First Latin Primer' by their side,
which they'd occasionally pick up and thumb through, checking
that the noun declensions were correct.

Reverend Bingham's evening study groups were well known in the
Lower school, as were his occasional Saturday and even Sunday
gatherings for the other girls. Anybody ever hoping to apply for
a place at university knew that they needed Latin. Tom expected a
high standard, and Jeffery had never let him down. He rather
prided himself on the fact that by the time they left school,
every girl had a knowledge of Latin comparable to that of a first
year university student actually taking Latin, a fact born out
not just by the number of successful candidates, but also the
letters of praise he occasionally received from the Professors
conducting the interviews.

The study group tonight was what he called a 'catching up'
session, a polite term for girls who had done badly at recent
tests and required extra tuition to help them keep up with the
rest.

Anybody not knowing Jeffrey would have been surprised that the
girls were dressed for bed; having already showered and donned
their nighties and fluffy slippers. If a girl felt chilly, their
dressing gowns were folded neatly over the back of a chair. The
fact was that since the study groups often went on for longer
than expected, in order to avoid any last minute panic, the girls
would simply spend the night at the cottage rather than have to
rush back to the Lower school when dark, in the cold or rain. The
next morning, they would dress and go back after breakfast. After
all, it was only a minute or so from the cottage to their
building.

For the girls themselves, this was a mixed blessing. There was a
certain pride in being allowed to stay at the cottage and they
all agreed that it was very cosy and comfortable. The fun of
being in a small bedroom away from the other girls, the warm and
nicely coloured bathroom, and the civilised décor. Reverend
Bingham was strict, true, but they had all become used to his
ways soon after their arrival in September. Their young and
tender ages meant that they saw nothing wrong in his supervising
their shower, or bath, and from what they could gather from the
girls in the second year, his use of the cane, though liberal,
was nothing compared to the Middle or Upper schools, and
certainly not to the Headmaster! Away from actual studies, they
found him a gentle man and, although it had been slightly
embarrassing at first, they had to admit that it did feel so nice
when he rubbed baby lotion over them after their bath, even when
he seemed to find dry skin in places they'd never thought of!

"Rebecca? Here please!"

The girl in question, a small vivacious little girl with long
dark hair and cheeky grin, jumped off her chair and walked over
to Reverend Bingham. Like all the girls, she wore only a nightie
and nothing else. The new rule regarding a complete absence of
underwear for night attire had been part of Lower school life for
years. The recent shortening of the nighties themselves had been
welcomed with open arms, though not all the girls agreed.

"Sir?" Rebecca curtsied and trotted over to Jeffrey. A newcomer
may have wondered why Reverend Bingham had his left arm hanging
over the side of the armchair, his fingers held upwards.

Rebecca walked to his side and stood so her small vulva was
pressed onto his fingers. She had seen others do thus since
arriving and to her, it was quite natural. Reverend Bingham
expected it.

Jeffrey smiled at her and saw her glance at the small cane on his
lap.

"Quid agis, Rebecca?"

Rebeca answered immediately "Valeo O Magistro et...”

"Rebecca, what is the vocative of Magister?" The small girl saw
his fingers move towards the cane.

"Err... Magister. It doesn't change in vocative Sir."

"Good girl. If you wanted to use it for more than one teacher?"

She didn't hesitate. "Magistri."

"Es nunc intecta?"

"Etiam Magister."

"Non, tu es seminuda. The Latin for half naked is easy to
remember because it resembles semi-nude."

"Ignosce mihi Magister!"

Jeffrey laughed. Rebecca was a clever girl but sometimes slow.
"Okay Rebecca, go and sit down. Claire!"

A bubbly blond haired girl rushed over and pushed herself onto
Jeffrey's hand. He grinned. This one had lost any shyness or
embarrassment very early on! For a minute or so, he tested her,
nodding and correcting her when necessary. Whereas Rebecca's
small vulva had been almost totally unresponsive, Claire was
clearly quite different.

"Decline Dominus plural for me, please!"

Claire swallowed. "Err… Domini, domini, dominos, er…" She looked
at him and shook her head. "Nescio Magister."

Jeffrey shrugged and picked up the cane. Claire sighed and turned
round, touching her toes.

He flicked the cane against her small bottom and Claire squealed.
"Okay, go and sit down. I'll test you on this tomorrow!"

Claire sped back to the table, grinning. It was well known that
Reverend Bingham never caned hard just before bedtime. Just
enough to sting a bit and remind the girls to try harder. She
opened her book and started to copy out the forms of dominus in
singular and plural.

Annabel and Trudy were tested, with Trudy getting another faint
red line added to the two already on her bottom.

"Becky, here please!"

Becky walked obediently over to his armchair, a worried look on
her face.  Slightly shorter than the others, she was a plump
little girl, with brown curly hair and large eyes that always
reminded Jeffery of a poodle he'd owned.

"Quomodo 'to dance' Latine dicas?"

"Er…Pallare?"

Jeffrey shook his head, his finger stroking her vulva very
gently.

"Paululum lingua latinae dicas?"

She looked at him blankly and bit her lip. "Sorry Sir. I don't
know what it means."

"At least say it in Latin" said Jeffrey. His finger slid deeper
and he saw her eyes widen. "I don't understand is 'Nullo
intellego'. Repeat!"

Becky cleared her throat. "Nullo intellego Magistro."

"Oh Becky, I just explained to Rebecca. This is an 'er' noun that
takes the same form in both nominative and vocative. I'll be
testing you on this tomorrow, so you'd better revise it before
the lesson!"

Becky nodded. "Yes Sir. Sorry Sir."

Jeffrey waited a few seconds while his finger located her tiny
clitoris, then sighed and picked up the cane.

The two strokes he gave her were no harder than the ones he'd
given the other girls, and she hardly seemed to feel them.
Jeffrey sent her back to the table and shook his head slowly.
Becky was at the bottom of the class and he'd already had to pass
all the test marks to Tom. The school had an excellent reputation
but that reputation was maintained only by removing those girls
who had very little chance of success in future exams.

Experience had shown them that by the end of the first year, it
was easy to see who those girls were. In a good year, only one
girl might be lost, a letter to her parents being despatched a
good month before the end of the summer term to give them time to
make other arrangements. Sometimes, they had to let two or three
go, but very rarely more than two.

Jeffrey had given Becky the benefit of the doubt since her first
few weeks in September, but with May drawing to a close, a
difficult decision had to be made. Jeffrey didn't hesitate to
cane the girls if he thought that they were capable of more, but
with Becky, he had to draw the line. Extra study sessions and
homework coupled with frequent corporal punishment had failed to
improve the situation. The girl was just not very bright. It
would be sad to see her go.

Of course, there were other reasons too. Becky was one of
Jeffrey's favourites.

He yawned and stretched. "Okay girls, nearly time for bed. Put
your things away, nice and tidily and go and wash your hands and
face. I'll just get you your milk. Quickly now!"

The girls jumped off their chairs, giggling. It was great
sleeping in Reverend Bingham's cottage.  As long as they didn't
make too much noise, he let them chatter for ages in bed, and the
next morning, they were allowed to be slightly late for their
first lesson. A few ran to the bathroom upstairs while other went
to the downstairs toilet.

Jeffrey warmed up a pot of milk on his stove and prepared five
cups. He could hear the girls laughing and arguing about where
they would sleep.  Not that they had much choice. The guest room
contained only one very large double bed. Just enough room for
three or four small girls. Tonight there were five though.

At the back of the cupboard was a small dark vial. He carefully
unscrewed the dropper that formed part of the top and allowed two
drops to fall into one of the cups.

Rebecca was the first to arrive, the stairs creaking like thunder
as they raced each other back to the living room.

"Okay girls, here's your milk. You know that I always leave a
small light on outside the bedroom so you can see if you have to
get up in the night."  He tousled Becky's hair. "Becky, you'll
have to share with me tonight. I think that with five of you in
that bed, it would probably collapse and come through the
ceiling!"

The girls laughed at the idea of crashing through into
downstairs.

"Oh, and it looks like I'll be having to organise a lot more
study groups soon" he continued. "You know Miss Cale may be
absent in the future, so I'll have to take over her French
classes for her."

He grinned at the thought. Both Tom and most of the teachers knew
that he could run rings around Miss Cale in French, but it was
not considered polite to say so. She was the French mistress. But
who was it who always prepared the Sixth Form girls for their
finals?

He yawned and checked that they'd finished their milk. Becky was
draining her cup and he grinned. "Okay girls. To bed! Last one to
bed has to do Latin all night standing on their head in the
toilet!"

They howled with laughter and ran upstairs, Becky throwing
herself on the huge bed in Jeffrey's room. She'd been there many
times before and only knew that it was far more comfortable than
in the dormitory and she always seemed to sleep so very well
there, even if she did have the strangest dreams.

Jeffrey washed up the cups and checked all was locked, before
turning off the light. He trotted upstairs, laughing at the
excited giggling coming from the guest room, and undressed in the
bathroom, checking his watch.

Becky was lying on the bed, two dollies in her hands, part of a
collection of various toys and knickknacks he kept in the cottage
for when girls slept over. She was lying on her back, knees bent,
oblivious of the fact that her short nightie meant that
everything was on display. Jeffrey gave a deep sigh and closed
his eyes for a second.

"Sleepy?" He smiled and sat on the edge of the bed, stroking her
leg.

"Yes Sir." Becky yawned and watched as Jeffrey fetched a jar of
cream from the table. She knew what he was going to do. He'd done
it last time, just before she'd fallen asleep.

"Come on then, let's put some of this on your bottom."

She turned over and went on all fours, bottom sticking up the
dolls still in her hands. She looked at them, trying to remember
the names she'd given them last time. Reverend Bingham's hand
felt so nice. She felt him putting cream on the red marks left by
the cane. So very nice! The hands glided all over her bottom,
between her legs and her little tingly place. She could have
sworn that the dolls were laughing. Something touched her bottom
hole and electricity coursed through her. The dolls were dancing.
She was flying. There was something that felt so good. She was
turning. On her front, now on her back. She held the dolls in the
air above her head. They were in the clouds. The nice feeling
grew stronger, much stronger. Such a dream! Above the clouds, she
screamed with pleasure and wished the feeling would never ever
stop. Never ever stop! Never ever…

Jeffery sat up and grinned at the sleeping girl, his mouth wet
and sticky.  Gosh, she tasted good! What a stiff little clitoris
she had!

In days to come, Becky would remember her funny dreams and tell
her friends about the flying, the dolls and the beautiful tingly
feeling that made her whole body shiver. There was another dream
as well that she could never remember quite as well. She was
sucking her thumb, but her thumb was much, much bigger. So big
that she needed both of her small hands to hold it. A voice kept
telling her to keep sucking and licking it to make it smaller, to
use her tongue to help make it give her some special medicine.
The medicine would help. She much preferred the first dream. The
other dream was strange and she always woke up with such a funny
taste in her mouth.

***

Belinda walked down the corridor to the Fourth Year common room.
Two days after her visit to the Headmaster, she'd experimented
with all the possible versions of her story and was feeling
happy. No longer the Prefect who knew the Headmaster on first
name terms. Now she was the Prefect who took her punishment and
didn't care! A Fourth Year who took the senior cane without
flinching!

Of course, she had very little choice in the matter since most of
the Fourth Year had seen her go into the Headmaster's office and
come out with a mass of nasty looking weals on her behind, but
ever the optimist, Belinda always put faith in her imagination
and ability to explain things in a way nobody else could.

"Gosh, he took four steps back and fairly ran, then thrashed me
full strength!" Or "Well, I knew that usually a fourth year girl
couldn't take it, but I did!" Then, "He was going to only give me
two, but he saw that I didn't make a noise, so he doubled it
and….."

Naturally, the teachers all wanted to see the damage and whereas
on the day of the punishment, she'd been left more or less alone,
the day after, almost every teacher insisted on her lifting up
her gymslip to display the marks. Roderick Brown had been
sympathetic, but the others had just laughed and wondered why the
Headmaster had left half of her bottom free of any weals. Then
they remembered her name on the list and smiled.

Belinda could not possibly have known that Mr Stevens had already
talked to the staff about her, and if she was expecting any
special treatment due to her caning, she was disappointed.
Inattention in History earned her six with Mr Treadgold's new
tawse. A low mark in a French test got her four from Miss Cale's
shiny new paddle, and on Wednesday morning, even 'Old Browny'
found an excuse for testing his new present from Tom on her ample
behind.

The new rules implemented, Belinda, like the others, had to
completely remove her knickers for punishment. Since most
teachers resented the time involved, some made the girls remove
them, and stay with them off until the end of the lesson.
However, all agreed that the added embarrassment of keeping the
feet further apart and the obligatory inspection was improving
discipline no end.

Since even one pubic hair could in theory result in a girl being
put on the Headmaster's dreaded punishment list, their antics in
the bathroom while they checked themselves brought smiles to the
faces of those teachers on duty, though occasionally it was not
always clear if a girl was checking herself or indulging in a
spot of self-abuse. Fortunately for them, the teachers generally
gave them the benefit of the doubt. Such was the severity of the
punishment for this, that nobody imagined for an instant that a
girl would perform such a disgusting act, let alone in public!

For John Gill and James Treadgold, the new rules were a welcome
addition to school life and if some of the Sixth form girls felt
that the intimate inspections sometimes seemed rather long, they
never dared say so. James saw an immediate advantage, and when
discovering two seventeen year old girls who had missed a small
patch of hair, he simply gave them a choice, the Headmaster's
list or a two thousand word essay on the Industrial revolution
and a visit to his study to test the largest and heaviest
Lochgelly tawse. The girls jumped at the chance! Six with the
Headmaster's senior cane was definitely not a pleasant
proposition! Besides, Mr Treadgold, like Dr Brown, was known for
his leniency, especially with Mr Gill watching as well as he
invariably was, a leniency that for some reason seemed to
increase the further apart the girls' feet were!

After seeing her name still entered twice on the list, Belinda
had initially been terrified but for a few days now, her name had
not been called out when leaving the dining hall. Maybe she was
being let off?  Maybe they'd forgotten? Her optimism and
imagination knew no bounds.

The message from Matron on Thursday that she should present
herself at the Headmaster's office at nine pm had made the blood
drain from her cheeks.  Then she remembered about the regular
meetings the Headmaster had mentioned last Thursday. Of course!
If it had been punishment, it would have been at seven o'clock as
usual! She breathed a sigh of relief. Yes, she was going to be a
model pupil and excellent Prefect! As before, she would be
exceedingly well-groomed and she'd double check that not a single
hair was visible 'down there'. Her behaviour the previous
Thursday made her cringe with embarrassment. How could she have
been so childish? She would show them!

Her knock on the study door at exactly nine o'clock was a little
bit louder than it had been a week ago. To her surprise, Mr
Stevens opened it himself and greeted her warmly. "Oh Belinda,
how nice to see you. Do please come in."

He held the door open for her and she entered, noticing that the
Reverend Bingham was in the same armchair as last time, a glass
in his hand.

"So Belinda, how has your first week as a Prefect been? Are you
happy?"

"Yes Sir. Thank you Sir."

"Glad to hear it. Oh, just wait a second…." Tom pulled a low
thickly padded footstool close to the armchairs. "Please, sit
down."

Belinda's eyes widened. The Headmaster inviting her to sit? This
was unheard of! She watched him go over to the sideboard and pour
some orange juice into a glass. Not for her, surely?

"Here you are, Belinda. Your good health!"

The men watched her take a few sips, amused by her reaction.

"Well, here we are." Tom clapped his hands. "Our first official
meeting."  He took a sip of whisky. "First of all, Belinda, I
have an apology to make."

Belinda took a few gulps of the orange juice, trying to look
older than she was. With her low position, her gymslip had ridden
up above her knees and one thing she did not look was older! Too
innocent to realise that the men were admiring her extremely well
defined camel toe, she looked at the Headmaster enquiringly.
"Sir?"

"Well, I did originally say that as a Prefect, you'd have your
own room and private shower cubicle. The point is Belinda, that
we feel that you'd be far more help to us if you remained where
you were. You're able to keep an eye on the girls, report on any
misbehaviour and so on. I'm so sorry. We will of course, find
ways of making up for this disappointment. Would that be okay?"

Belinda nodded. She was a bit sad, true, but one never disagreed
with the Headmaster. "Yes Sir. Of course."

"Good. We really are so grateful." He saw the twinkle in
Jeffrey's eye.  "One change we'll be making is regarding your own
punishments." Belinda swallowed and sat up straight. "I'm sure
you realise that as a Prefect, you have to obey the same rules as
the others, actually even more, in order to set an example." He
paused. "However, as a special favour, we've decided that in
future, your punishments will be in private, during these
meetings.  You will no longer have to queue up outside with the
other girls at seven o'clock. What do you think?"

Belinda's face, having initially paled slightly, suddenly filled
with colour again. Although only three days ago, her ordeal had
already been relegated to 'old stuff' in her memory and the
bruises were fading fast. Naturally she had no idea that only a
few hours ago Matron had already given the Headmaster a detailed
description of the state of her bottom.

"Oh, er yes Sir. Thank you."  Belinda was already planning on how
to break the news to the other girls, her imagination
embellishing it in ways only she could do. Gosh, they'd be so
jealous!

"We will also make them a far more civilised affair" continued
Tom. "If, for example, you should have more than six strokes, you
may have a short break before continuing. We will also have some
time afterwards for a little chat. I was very impressed, Belinda,
in how you behaved during your caning on Monday. You were more
like a Sixth Form girl than a Fourth year!"

She blushed at the praise and wondered how she would present this
to the others. She could choose to have a break! So civilised!
More like a Sixth Form girl!

"Oh, and I have some good news, Belinda. I received a reply from
your orphanage. They have agreed that you can stay here during
the holidays if you still want."

Her face lit up. "Thank you Sir!" Wow! No more dark and gloomy
orphanage!

Tom laughed. "I thought you'd be pleased. Yes, it's true that
bedtimes will be later and you'll be able to stay in bed longer,
but I must warn you Belinda that there will still be rules." He
chuckled. "Girls still get the occasional sore bottom, even in
the holidays! About nine or ten girls of all ages stay here in
the holidays and you'll have to share one dormitory and bathroom.
The rest will be closed. You'll have to help in the kitchen a
bit, do some cleaning and so on. But on the other hand, you'll
have a lot of free time to play and go for walks. Okay?"

She nodded happily. "Yes Sir. Thank you."

"Good. Now then, if you've finished, we can start." He took the
empty glass from her and walked to the sideboard. "Everything
folded neatly please, just like last time!" He turned. "No need
for your hands on your head this time, I think. You're far too
old for that now!"

Belinda started to undress without thinking, her mind still
reeling from the news about the holidays. What fun she'd have!
For a split second, she hesitated at the waistband of her
knickers, then shook her head and removed them. Stop being so
silly! With her vest she hesitated again, not sure if she was to
remove that as well, but decided it would be wiser to show
willingness and keep the Headmaster in a good mood.

"Hmm, so much nicer without all that unhygienic hair!" Tom sat
down and smiled at her. "Bend forward and let me check your
head!"

The preliminary inspection over, Tom surveyed the naked girl
before him with interest. Her small breasts were typical of the
young pubescent girl and it would be years before she needed a
bra.

"These may need a bit of cream on them." He ran his finger over
her right nipple, watching carefully how she reacted. "Does it
hurt at all when I touch them?"

"No Sir." Belinda shivered at the tingle that his fingers had
caused. So nice.

"Okay. Put your vest back on."

Jeffrey had switched the electric fire on a few minutes before
she'd arrived and it was nice and warm.

"Good girl. Just turn like you did last time. Bend right over.
Excellent!"

The men looked at each other. Jeffrey winked. Belinda was
obviously eager to impress. Not only had she obeyed immediately,
but she had moved her feet far apart without being reminded and
was sticking her buttocks and pussy out in a way that to some
would have seemed obscene, but which to Jeffrey and Tom was quite
beautiful.

"Perfect." Tom ran his hand over the girl's perfectly smooth
pussy. "This way, we can inspect both your vulva and bottom at
the same time." He hesitated. "You don't mind me inspecting you
like this, do you Belinda?"

"Oh no Sir."

"Good girl. I'm sure that you realise it's for your own good." He
ran his finger over the faint pink weals still visible on her
large bottom, grinning with satisfaction at the bruises still
present. No problem.  They'd be gone in a few more days.

"I saw that Miss Carstairs put your name on the list for
suspected self-abuse." His finger slid very gently between her
pussy lips. "You know Belinda, that's really quite serious. If
you want to be a Prefect, you must learn to control yourself. You
do understand, I hope?"

Belinda nodded, looking at the Headmaster between her legs. "Yes
Sir. Sorry Sir."

It was all so complicated, but she'd managed to put two and two
together and was starting to understand. The rules on self-abuse
had been drummed into the girls from the first year of school,
but never really explained very well. She just knew that any girl
found touching herself 'there' could be in a lot of trouble.
Becoming damp was also a punishable offence, because it was a
sign either of self-abuse or 'impure thoughts'. How and why was a
mystery to the younger girls, but of course, they never
questioned the rules. It was only with the onset of puberty that
the connection was made.

"This part of your anatomy is susceptible to all manner of
terrible infections and must be kept clean and dry at all times."
Tom slid his finger slightly deeper, chuckling quietly. Every
girl in the school knew about this rule! "When it becomes wet by
itself, it is a sign of impurity, impure thoughts and deficiency
of character. A girl who cannot control herself here runs the
risk of becoming mentally unstable and possibly never becoming a
good wife and mother. What husband wants a wife with such a
depraved lack of morality? Do you understand, Belinda?"

"Oh yes Sir!" Actually, she wasn't sure that she did, but the way
he put it, it seemed to make sense.

"When I cane a girl for being damp here, I am therefore doing
them a favour. I am helping them to modify their behaviour and
learn to control themselves. As a Prefect, you can appreciate
this, can't you Belinda?"

"Yes Sir." She felt a familiar delicious tingling start to spread
outwards from where the Headmaster had his finger.

Tom heard the slight tremor in her voice and winked at Jeffrey.
"So when this part of your body starts to feel as if it may
become damp, you have to fight against it. Think of something
else. Think of the caning you will receive in a few minutes.
Think of the shame you will feel when no man will want you for
his wife. Think of being flogged in front of the whole school for
being so filthy!"

Belinda remembered that last flogging. Over six months ago, but
the memory was still fresh. The main hall had been full, the
Headmaster on the stage in his gown and mortar board, teachers at
the side. The poor girl had been from the Upper Sixth, standing
naked at the side of the stage facing them, weeping tears of
shame, not even allowed to wear a pair of socks, her total
nakedness a symbol of her temporary lack of morality and fall
from grace, the younger girls gazing in awe at her large well
developed breasts. The term 'masturbation' was never used, the
Headmaster preferring to use expressions like disgraceful
inappropriate behaviour, abuse of ones body, lewd and sordid
practices. The girl herself was then made to apologise to the
school for insulting its good name, indulging in filthy behaviour
and allowing the sanctity of her body to be soiled with
temptation. After the short speech, they had watched in horrified
silence as the girl positioned herself over the large leather
covered vaulting horse, two teachers ready to hold her in
position if she couldn't cope with the pain. Then the awful sound
of one of the heaviest senior canes biting into her buttocks
twelve times, the long wait between strokes, the teachers having
to intervene after the third stroke in order to stop her trying
to escape. Not that it would have helped if she had. The penalty
for being caught masturbating twice and avoiding the flogging was
the same; immediate expulsion from the school and letters sent to
the parents and their local parish church giving the reasons for
her expulsion.

"Yes Belinda. Think of the shame when you are flogged." Tom
grinned and teased the girl's small clitoris. The girls didn't
know how lucky they were. The previous Headmaster had always used
the birch for public punishments, something Tom regarded as
barbaric and out-dated.

"Good girl. I think you're learning. Okay, go over to the usual
spot and get into position! I want to see if you can still take
your caning like a big girl! Quickly!"

He turned to Jeffrey and lowered his voice. "Starting to get wet,
but not too much. I think she'll be fine."

Jeffrey laughed. She'd certainly be getting plenty of practice!

Belinda grasped her legs just below her knees and bit her lip.
The terrible pain she'd suffered on Monday evening came back to
her, but….  Like a Sixth former? She'd show the Headmaster!

"Good girl!"  Tom altered her position slightly and tested the
cane by swishing it through the air a few times. "Remember
Belinda, this is to help you. Pain is good for the soul. Oh, and
please remember that I'm proud of you!"

The first stroke cracked down hard across her buttocks. "Aaaaahhh
Oh Sir!!"

She was sobbing immediately. How could anyone stand such agony?
The second was worse and she repeated some of the ballet steps
that the men remembered from the previous time.

"Owwww! Aggghhh! Owowow!"

Suddenly she felt the Headmaster's finger… just there! The pain
seemed to lessen.

The third and fourth strokes had her knuckles white and her head
shaking as she sought to somehow dissipate the pain. She grit her
teeth and sniffed, her face wet with tears. She wouldn't move!
She'd show him! Again, that delicious feeling as he stroked her
vulva.

The fifth stroke criss-crossed some of the others and she
screamed. Tom looked at Jeffrey and nodded. "Good girl, Belinda.
Now the last one. This is going to be the worst. But I know you
can take it." He ran his finger quickly up between her sweaty
pussy lips.

A loud swishing noise and the cane cracked hard across the top of
her thighs, just under the bruises left from her previous caning.

"Nyeeeeaaaaiiiiii!! Owwwww! Sir!! Owwww!" For a second he was
sure that she'd jump up and start hopping around like a mad
thing, and he'd be obliged to give her one more. But despite her
legs bending and straightening and her bottom wiggling from side
to side, she somehow managed to keep her position.

His finger slid between her pussy lips. Belinda gasped and froze
as a fingertip brushed her clitoris very lightly. It was only for
a second but immediately made the pain so much more bearable!

"Belinda, I am so proud of you! Now, just stay like that while I
put something on the marks."

Tom reached for a small bottle on his desk. A concoction made by
a pharmacist in London, it consisted of witch hazel and some
other ingredients that reduced swelling and acted as a local
anaesthetic.  Belinda remained in position, quietly weeping while
he quickly applied the lotion to the weals.

"Good girl. Now then, Belinda, I want you to stand up straight
and I don't want to see any tears. You're a very strong girl and
you took your punishment very well. It's all over now."

She felt the pain growing slowly fainter and stood up, sniffing
and wiping her eyes. Tom took his handkerchief and wiped her
face. "Okay, let's go and sit down. I'll get you another orange
juice."

Her mind spinning, Belinda sat down on the low padded footstool,
the weals still throbbing. Oh, so very, very painful! The fact
that she was still only clad in her vest was not on her list of
priorities. She had just been praised by the Headmaster and was
again being invited to sit down. Oh, and served a drink. By the
Headmaster! The other girls would be green with envy! She
wriggled and sighed as her whole bottom seemed to glow. Gosh, it
had been so painful, but… but, maybe it wasn't 'that' bad, was
it?

For a few minutes, they chatted as though nothing had happened,
Tom asking questions about recent netball and hockey matches,
while Jeffrey feigned a polite interest. Belinda found herself
relaxing and laughed at the occasional joke about girls from
other schools.

"You know, Belinda, I hadn't realised that you were such a mine
of information" said Tom after a while. "I don't think that the
school has ever had such an intelligent and mature Prefect as
you."

Jeffery looked at the girl's face and nodded his agreement,
fighting the urge to fall off his chair laughing. She was so far
up in the clouds with praise, he wondered if there was anything
she wouldn't do. Intelligent?  She was probably the best example
of 'average' in the whole school, and this only maintained by
regular corporal punishment!

"I think that maybe we should give you more power, hmm?" Tom
smiled and Jeffery nodded. "For example, do you have any ideas
how we could encourage the hockey and netball teams to play a bit
better? The last two matches against Saint Winifred’s were rather
embarrassing, I thought.Any advice on how we could wake them up?"

Belinda thought hard. Far too lazy to ever get picked for the
team, she nevertheless considered herself an expert. As far as
she was concerned, the girls who made the teams were stuck up and
far too big for their boots!

"Er, I'm not sure Sir. I suppose that you could punish them if
they lose a match, but…."

"Hmm, yes. Rather a good idea!" Tom scratched his chin. The
Headmistress of Saint Winifred’s told me that her girls are
punished by the Prefects when they lose a match. Naturally, like
me, she's very busy and doesn't have time to do it herself." He
seemed to be deep in thought for a few seconds, then looked at
Jeffrey. "What do you think, Reverend Bingham?"

Jeffrey placed his fingertips together and nodded. "It would be a
considerable responsibility for Belinda, but I think she deserves
it.  However, I assume that she would only have authority in the
Middle school?"

"Naturally!" Tom took another sip of whisky. "I will nominate a
Prefect from the Upper school for their matches, and Belinda
would be responsible for the Middle school teams. As for the
Lower school, there is obviously no need to introduce such rules
there."

Jeffery nodded. They'd already decided that a Prefect system in
the Lower school was totally unnecessary and in any case, they
never played matches against other schools.

"So Belinda, from tomorrow, I will give you complete freedom to
decide how best to deal with the Middle school teams if they lose
a match, and I will have notices posted in the hall and the
changing rooms so all the girls are aware. Okay?"

Belinda felt her head swelling with pride. Yes Sir." She looked
puzzled.  "But….I mean, how should they be punished Sir?"

"That is entirely your decision" said Tom, checking the time. "I
will make it clear that you have permission from me to do
whatever you feel appropriate." He lowered his voice. "Any girl
who refuses will be dealt with by me, very severely indeed! If,
for example, you think that only certain girls played badly, you
may decide to punish only them. On the other hand, you may decide
that the whole team is to blame. I leave that decision up to
you."

"Yes Sir. Err...” Belinda was still unclear about something. "But
how am I allowed to punish them Sir?"

Tom shrugged. "However you feel is appropriate. Twenty laps of
the pitch, a cold shower, six hard slaps on the bottom? You may
do what you want. I will give you a slipper, paddle and tawse and
you can use them as you see fit. Okay?"

"I… Yes Sir. Thank you." Belinda felt as if she were floating.
Such power for a Fourth year girl was unheard of! Somewhere a bit
deeper was another feeling. Excitement and apprehension."

Tom nodded at the pile of clothes next to her. "Okay, better get
dressed.  It's getting late."

She pulled her clothes on quickly, her mind still reeling from
the shock, her throbbing weals temporarily forgotten. Tom briefly
stopped her as she was pulling her gymslip over her head and
patted her little camel toe, making her gasp with surprise. "I
suggest, young lady that you make sure you're dry down here
before you reach your dormitory." He winked at her and smiled.
"Okay?"

Belinda felt she could hug him. She'd completely forgotten about
that.  "Yes Sir, of course. Thank you Sir!"

Tom opened the door for her. "One last thing, Belinda. I see that
you still have your name on the list. Mr Gill put you down on
Monday, remember?"

"Yes Sir." Belinda looked at him hopefully. Maybe he'd let her
off?

"Well, because you've just been punished, I don't think it's fair
to cane you again so soon, but I'd like you to return here on
Monday evening. Same time. You're a strong girl, and I'm sure
your bottom will be able to take another six by then. Goodnight!"

He closed the door and sank back into his armchair, sighing
loudly. "I'm sure she'll have her name on the list again soon" he
said to Jeffrey, grinning. "In fact, I think I can guarantee it!"

Jeffrey laughed. Increasing Belinda's pain threshold had been
part of the plan right from the start. He was sure that by the
start of the next academic year, she'd be able to take twelve
with the senior cane, just like the other prefects. Not to
mention the female staff! Talking of which. He looked at his
watch.

"Shouldn't Matron and Bridget be here soon?"

"Yes, I hope so." Tom looked at his friend. Jeffrey preferred
Elena, the other maid, but only because she was so young.
Bridget, at twenty two, was five years older and was as tough as
nails. "Want to borrow a few canes?" he asked, his eyes
twinkling. "You know very well that she hardly feels the ones you
use!"

"Hmm, good idea." Jeffery laughed. "Yes she does have a
well-padded backside!" He looked at Tom. "By the way, did you see
the tests marks?"

Tom noticed the hint of sadness in his voice and understood. They
hated having to get rid of girls at the end of the first year.
"Yes. Poor old Becky!" Then Jeffrey noticed a twinkle in his eye.
What did Tom have in mind?

"I'm sorry Jeffrey. I should have mentioned this earlier, but so
many things to do. I had a very interesting chat with Clive
Reading this morning."

"Old Reading? Headmaster of Saint Cuthberts?"

"Yes, that's the chap. Well, as you know, Becky's father is
worried sick about her lack of progress and phoned me twice this
month, asking if we could consider letting her continue. He knows
the rules of course, but he's distraught, the poor chap! He even
asked if we were caning her hard enough!  Well, Clive Reading
told me that in theory, there's no reason why Becky shouldn't be
able to stay at school, as long as her parents understand that
she may not be entered for the exams, and they sign a declaration
accepting these conditions."

Jeffery nodded. "I see. It's obvious that the girl is definitely
not university material, but we may be able to get her through
some exams at sixteen I suppose."

"Exactly. Oh, and Clive also suggested that we offer extra
tuition during the holidays. Apparently, parents are willing to
pay a fortune for this.  We could set aside some time during the
summer holidays and run revision classes." He chuckled. I know
that Becky's father will jump at the chance."  He paused. "We'll
have to think long and hard about how to organise it, and of
course, it will only be with your agreement, Jeffrey. Could you
bear having Becky and one or two others from the Lower school all
to yourself during the summer holiday?"

Jeffrey hoped that his face wasn't too red! He felt for a second
that he was floating. He knew exactly which girls could profit
from some extra tuition! He licked his lips. Though not
necessarily in Latin!

There was a timid knock at the door. Bridget and Matron.

He cleared his throat.

"Hmm, little Becky at the cottage over the summer holidays?" He
took a final gulp of whisky and shook his head.

"No, Tom. No problem at all!"