A Spanking in Time (Bexhill School) (6 page)

Just then the oven bell rang.

“Supper’s ready – I’ll dish up if you would pour the wine. The bottle’s on the sideboard there.”

“Wine – how posh! You’ve really been extravagant. What are we eating?”

She took the prawn cocktails out of the ‘fridge and put them on the table.

“Oh Marlene! How did you know? My favourite starter!”

They sat down and once again clinked glasses.

By the time Miss Holloway served up the stroganoff and some steaming vegetables, they were on to their second glass of wine and the conversation was flowing freely.

“So what’s it like at the school? Do you like working there?”

“Yes, very much. They’re nice people and there’s lots of variety. Have you ever seen the place?”

“I’ve driven past a couple of times – seen the girls running around on the playing fields. Did you go there yourself?”

“Oh no – my parents couldn’t have afforded it. I went to the local grammar. Were you at boarding school?”

“No – it was a day school, but a private one. I wasn’t sorry to leave. I hated getting caned.”

Miss Holloway choked on her mouthful of s
tew.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes, of course. I’m sorry.” She took a gulp of wine.

“I don’t suppose they smack your girls, but they were real sadists with us. I couldn’t wait to get out of the place.”

“Well, actually they do use corporal punishment at Bexhill – quite often.”

“Do they really? Goodness, I thought girls were spared all that.”

Miss Holloway hadn’t expected this turn in the conversation, but now she was keen to keep it going.

“
No – they’re quite Victorian at Bexhill. If the girls step out of line, they get thrashed. Most of them seem to accept the idea and some even prefer it to detention or whatever.”

“
But surely they don’t use the cane, do they?”

“Oh yes. The headmaster and the deputy head have canes. Of course, they use other things too, like a hairbrush or a strap, depending
on how severe the offence is, and I heard they’re going to allow ordinary teachers to use a paddle in the classroom if they need to. Matron sometimes spanks them as well, so all in all I suppose most of the girls end up getting smacked at one time or another during their time at Bexhill.

“I’m really amazed! At my school we’d have done anything to get out of a
hiding – detention would have been much better.”

“
Well, at Bexhill even the Head Girl has a cane. It’s a sort of ‘badge of office’.”

“That’s extraordinary. My school would never have allowed the pupils to beat each other.
”

“
She’s only allowed to give six strokes. Actually, even the dormitory captains can use a slipper. It’s not really formally approved, but the headmaster turns a blind eye to it because it keeps the juniors in line without him having to get involved.”

“But surely it must lead to bullying and all sorts of abuse?”

“It doesn’t seem to. I suppose they choose the Head Girl and the dormitory captains quite carefully and anyway the staff are usually aware of what’s going on. It’s been a tradition for ages.”

“Probably comes from those posh boys’ public schools, like Eton. But I’m glad we didn’t have the system at my place.”

Miss Holloway divided the remainder of the stroganoff between their two plates and refilled their glasses. Whether it was the way the conversation had developed, or the wine, or simply the buzz she had felt since Wednesday’s events: whatever it was, she was starting to feel very aroused.

“So what sort of things were you caned for?” she asked, raising an eyebrow coquettishly.

“Oh, the usual stuff: poor marks in class, ragging about, being cheeky. The ordinary teachers could give us the strap, and they often did so. But they didn’t need much of an excuse to put us on report to see the headmaster and then we were doomed. I’m sure that old creep enjoyed whacking us.”

“What happened when you had to see the headmaster?”
The wine had emboldened her.

“Well, if you really want to know, I’ll tell you
, although even now it makes me quake to think about it.” He mopped up the last of the food on his plate with the remains of a bread roll and pushed his chair back.

“We used to have
a daily Assemby. The headmaster would always preside over it. At the start, he’d read out a list of any boys who were on report. That meant you had to line up outside his study after Assembly. If your name was on that list you couldn’t concentrate on anything afterwards – you were terrified, because you knew what was coming.”

“Gosh, you poor things.”

“Yes, but the worst bit was waiting outside the study and listening to maybe three or four people in front of you being called in and getting the cane. You could easily hear the whacks and the cries, and you knew your turn was coming. Once, when I was the last of five or six waiting to be called in, I had to rush to the toilet. Golly, even now I can still feel that dread as we waited out there!”

“G
o on – what happened when you were finally called in?” She could feel the damp beginning to form between her legs.

“He’d be sitting behind his desk. You had to stand in front of him and he’d read out the report or tell you why you were there. He’d go on for a bit and then ask whether you had anything to say. Of co
urse, you knew you were done for already and it wasn’t worth arguing. He’d get up and walk over to the rack on the wall where he kept his canes. The junior ones – the thinner ones – were on the lowest rungs, then the seniors, and right at the top he kept a Dragon. Do you know what a Dragon is?”

“Yes –
Mr. Masterson asked me to bring one in the other day. It looked really vicious.”

“They are,
they’re denser than ordinary canes and they hurt like anything. You always hoped he’d take down a junior or a senior instead. Then he’d swipe it around a bit. It would make that awful swishing sound. I’m sure he did it deliberately, to scare us even more. That’s why I think he was a sadist, although I didn’t know what that was at the time.”

Miss Holloway cleared away the plates and got the
ice-cream out of the ‘fridge.

“
Please go on. I’m intrigued.” That was a bit of a give-away. “I’m just going to warm up the sauce.”

“How delicious! Where was I? Oh yes, ‘swish’, ‘swish’. Then he’d tell you to go over to the sofa. There’d be a hand towel across one of the arms. He’d tell you to take off your trousers and your underpants and
place them on the other arm of the sofa. Then you had to kneel on the sofa, lie across the arm with the towel underneath you, and put your hands on the floor. It was really undignified, with your bottom stuck up in the air like that. Maybe the old goat was queer, too. Anyway, he’d tell you how many you were going to get. It was always at least six, but for really serious offences like smoking or drinking alcohol, it would be twelve. And then he’d start beating you – hard, but very slowly, one stroke every twenty or thirty seconds. He’d walk around the room in between. It was absolutely agonising, but you daren’t get up. If you did, he’d give you extras. Gosh, even talking about it now makes me shudder!”

It made Miss Holloway shudder, too, but for different reasons.
She poured the hot sauce over the ice cream and placed the dish in front of him. She put a slightly smaller one down for herself.

“Poor old Dick! Did you often get caned?”

“Lord, yes! Two or three times a term. That’s why I was so glad to leave school. But I can’t believe they treat your girls the same way?”

“No, I don’t think
Mr. Masterson or Mrs. Winchester is sadistic; they don’t
enjoy
beating the girls. They just believe that corporal punishment works. The girls have to wait in my office before they go in to see the headmaster. I feel really sorry for them – some of them are terribly nervous. He even had to call me in last week to hold down one who was struggling too much.”

“Good heavens – that must have been awful for you!”

For a brief moment she wondered whether to tell Dick that she’d found it turned her on. She decided against.

“She’d been caught smoking with two others. It was the first time the wretched girl had been caned and the headmaster was trying to give her twelve strokes, but she kept on jumping up. One of the
other girls was the Deputy Head’s daughter – she got it really hard, I suppose to show that there was no favouritism. I’ve often heard the sound of punishments being dished out, but I’d never actually seen it happening before.”

“Were you
ever spanked at school or at home?”

“No, worst luck.” It just slipped out
.

“What do you mean ‘worst luck’? Would you have
liked
to be spanked?”

Miss Holloway was now completely flustered and started to blush. Should she admit it? She thought Dick might find it too ‘kinky’ – he seemed a bit straight-laced.

“Oh, I don’t know really,” she babbled, realising how
odd she must be appearing. “Would you like some more desert?”

“It was lovely, but no more for me thanks. That was a wonderful meal; you went to so much trouble.”

“It was nothing, I’m glad you liked it. Shall we go back to the sitting room?” Rather to Miss Holloway’s relief, it seemed that the previous conversation was over. Her hormones, however, were still bubbling away like the coffee would be if she didn’t take it off the heat very quickly. She lifted the pan, its delicious aroma wafting through the flat.

“How do like your coffee? With milk and no sugar, isn’t it?”

“You remembered! Yes, just white thanks.” While Miss Holloway poured the liquid into two cups, Dick went into the sitting room and, to Miss Holloway’s delight, he sat on the sofa. She served the coffee, put on an Everly Brothers record, and returned to sit beside him. She curled her legs underneath her and wondered how to move things along from here.

She
was twenty-four years old. Looking at herself carefully in the full-length mirror in her bedroom – both naked and clothed – she considered that she was probably quite pretty. Anyway, the male teachers at the school seemed to find her so, to judge from the way some of them flirted. She’d had a few boyfriends, but they had never moved beyond the rather chaste kissing stage. She was still a virgin, but of course that was certainly not then considered the social disgrace that it would be a few years later. She was also fairly sure that she wanted Dick to initiate her into the mysteries of sex. Tonight. She put her hand on his: maybe this would get him going.

Dick looked at her and moved his face closer to hers. She closed her eyes.

“What scent are you wearing?” he asked. She opened her eyes.

“Chanel No 5. Do you like it?”

“Yes, it suits you.”

“How?”

“Well, it’s a little bit mysterious, like you!” He put an arm around her shoulder. OK!

“Why am I ‘mysterious’?” she asked archly, moving closer.

“Things you say.”

“What sort of things?
”

“Like ‘worst luck’.”

“Ah.”
She was looking up into his eyes, just like she’d seen Deborah Kerr doing.

“Oh yes – that was one of your
more mysterious pronouncements!”

Great! He was going to ask her whether she enjoyed the idea of spanking. He didn’t.

“Marlene – I must ask you something: have you got a boyfriend?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

Pause.

“You.”

“Oh, Marlene!” He pulled her towards him in approved ‘B-movie’ style. Their lips met. After a while, their tongues also made each other’s acquaintance. This was definitely better than chaste kisses, but there seemed to be too much light. She wondered how she could dim things down a bit.

The Everly Brothers came to her aid.

‘
And I didn't realize what a kiss could be...be...be...be...be...’

“I’ll fix it.” She disentangled herself, went over to the gramophone and gave the arm a nudge.

‘
Mmm, ya got a way about ya
Now I can't live without ya’

S
he switched out the lights. The darkness was relieved only by the dim street lighting filtering through the curtains. It took a moment for her to get used to it. When she got back to Dick, his inhibitions had gone. He stood up and threw his arms around her, pulling her tightly to him. Their lips and tongues met again. His right hand slid down her back until it was caressing her bottom, his left held the nape of her neck. He moved his mouth from hers and kissed her ears and neck, working his way around to her lifted throat. She knew then, absolutely, that this was going to be the first night of the rest of her life. She surrendered to the idea with an almost imperceptible shudder.

He moved his left hand and started unbuttoning the front of her shirt.

“Naughty boy!” she murmured. “No wonder you got caned!”