Jenny Woods learns her lesson (Punishment Friday: July 6th – Part 3)

Now, finally, I am finding the time to complete this series of “Punishment Friday”.

“Sent in Miss Woods, please.”

I was not looking forward to this. Only very rarely a pupil had to report to my office twice in such a short time. She had already received a severe caning on her last visit, and it positively looked like it hadn’t been enough to teach her a lesson.

As a headmistress, I know that there are things that cannot be solved by corporal punishment. Girls like Jenny Woods needed strict discipline, yes, but a good thrashing was only one part of that. And by just letting her off with another good dose of the cane, I knew, I wouldn’t get the full message across.

Had the offence been a more serious one (of course, improper uniform and impertinent sassing are not taken lightly here, but they are not like theft, fighting or smoking) I would have had Jenny expelled and sent home with the next ship. After a thorough caning, that is. But I didn’t think that to be an option now, and I wasn’t to give up on Jenny that quick.

As she entered my office I could see she was worried. Oh, yes, she looked confident and even a little cocky for someone who didn’t know schoolgirls. But I could see that inside, she was frightened of what was to come. I smiled inwardly, knowing that she was probably right.

“Now, Woods. I am not pleased to see you in here again this soon.” I adressed the girl. At least, she had enough wit to come with a regulation length skirt, certainly not shortened like the one that had earned her this visit. “You knew that non-regulation clothing is strictly forbidden at Wilhemsen, and you full well knew that what you were doing was wrong. You have heard the things I have told Caroline Fletcher just last week, and you have just had a good caning. Now, what am I going to do with you, Woods?”

The girl just looked at me, silently.

“I have asked you a question, Woods”

“Yes, Miss.”

“Now, Woods, I expect you to answer that question.”

“Yes, Miss.”

“So? What should I do with you?”

“P…punish me? Miss?”

“Well, obviously I should punish you. And I will. The dilemma is another one, Woods. How should I punish a girl, whoose recent encounter with a certain cane has seemingly had no effect on her behaviour?”

“Miss, I do not know that.”

“Well, I could have you bend over for another good caning, that would be much deserved, don’t you think?”

Jenny Woods face became pale. Her lower lip was trembling. “I guess so, Miss.”

“Well, you are guessing right, Woods. And it is part of what I will do. School rules allow me a maximum of a dozen strokes, which you will receive. “Jenny Woods cheeks reddened, her eyes became large. She was showing fear now.

“But, Woods, as much as that caning, given here and now, would quite probably teach you a few lessons, I think it would not cure the source of your current streak of misbehaviour.”

I let those words sink in for a few short seconds.

“Woods, you are 15 years old. Still, you behave like an insolent and cheeky child. And I have decided that I should punish you as such.”

Speaking those words, I stood up and walked around my desk, towards Jenny Woods. She was almost my size, and under normal circumstances I would have deemed an over-the-knee-punishment improper. But it was the child Jenny Woods that needed an extra lesson, not the 15 year old girl that apparently stood before me.

I sat down on one of the chairs in front of my desk and took hold of Jennys arm. Like a much younger girl, I guided her over my knee. With a few short moves I adjusted her position to my liking and then adressed the three pupils still standing there, nose to the wall.

“Smit, Addler, Meier! Turn around. I want you to see what happens when a teen pupil behaves like a stubborn child.”

With those words, I lifted up Woods skirt, securing it over her back. I then proceeded by pulling her knickers down to her knees. Cane marks were still visible on her otherwise pale posterior. Obviously she hadn’t learned enough from them. Maybe what was coming now would teach her, finally.

It was no typical school punishment. It was a spanking, given in the time-honored fashion that mothers have always used to discipline their offspring. I had deliberately chosen to use my hand, so that Jenny Woods would feel my personal disappointment with her conduct. I smacked her thoroughly, scolding her while doing so. I don’t know if it was the embarassement of being spanked like a little girl, but Woods began sobbing after the first five or six spanks. She was positively crying after a dozen, kicking her legs a little and wailing over my knee. I kept spanking her until she was laying limp over my knees, crying hard. Then, I made her stand up.

Her face was flushed, full of tears.

“I… I am sorry, Miss.” She had stammered that words before, when she was still over my knees. I could see she really was sorry now.

I had the other three come to my desk and take their punishment information cards. I then dismissed them and had Woods face my desk.

“Now, Woods, i think you’ve learned something today, have you?”

“Yes, Miss.” She was trying not to rub her smarting buttocks, holding her hands behind her back. Her skirt was still tucked up, and her knickers hung around her ankles now.

“Of course, there is still the matter of your main infraction…”

“Oh, Miss, please. I have been punished! Please, not another caning, not now!”

“Yes, Woods, you have been punished for your girlish behaviour. You have not been punished for your impertinence and lack of respect. You do understand that, Woods, don’t you?”

“Miss, yes, I know.” I knew from own experience how docile one became after a crisp spanking. To witness it in Jenny Woods was almost priceless.

“So, you will receive a full dozen strokes of the junior cane. But you will not receive them right now.”

I made Jenny Woods stand, facing the wall. I gave my words – and the spanking – some more time to sink in while doing some paperwork. After about 25 minutes, I made her face my desk again.

“Adjust your uniform, Woods!”

I watched her pulling her knickers up, then her kneesocks. Finally, she straightened out her school skirt. I pointed at the skirt and adressed her again.

“No, Jenny. Please, tuck your skirt up, like you did when Mr. Fliegner caught you. Like Fletcher did last week.”

She looked at me, puzzled.

“Now, do I have to help you, Woods?”

She hesitantly complied. Her skirt now ended a few centimetres above her knees.

“Please, Woods, a little higher still.”

Still puzzled, she did as she was told. I finally told her that it was quite alright when the hem of her school skirt was midway up her tighs.

“You will wear your skirt that length until next friday.” I told her. “Each day, before assembly, you will report to my office and receive two strokes of the junior cane over your tighs, below the hem of your skirt. One stroke will be placed on the back of your tighs, the other over the front. So everyone will see what happens to pupils who disregard our uniform regulations. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Miss”. Jenny Woods face was again bright red.

“Well then, I’ll give you your first two strokes right now. After the Weekend, you’ll report back here on Monday for your next dose. As you can see, you’ll get the whole dozen strokes until next friday. Now please stand there and keep your hands out of the way”

I gave her those two cuts while she was standing up. I could see were the marks would
be visible, and I placed them exactly where they were seen best.

After a few more words about discipline and conduct, I let her go. Taking her card, she gingerly walked out of my office.

Another days work was done.

Punishment Friday: July 6th – Part 2

“Sent the next one in, please”

A sixteen year old boy, Florian Meier from 11B entered the room. His face was already almost as red as his hair, you could see he was really embarassed to be here. Well, he should be. Another part of his anatomy would soon join his face and hair with its colour.

“I didn’t think I would see you in here for punishment, Meier.” I told him when he stood before my desk. And indeed, I was a little surprised when I found his name on the list. He was one of the top pupils of his year, never had gotten the ruler or even a reprimand. I knew his mother, she was a passionate rider like me and we hat met several times on horseback.

“Now, having you here is a disappointment. Which I intend to make you feel, Meier, do you understand?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“You will adress me as ‘Miss’, is that clear?”

“Yes, Miss.”

“Now, then, tell me why you are here.”

“To… to be punished, Miss.”

“Yes, Meier. Of course you are here to be punished. But tell me why you need to be punished by your headmistress!”

“Well, Miss, I am sure it says that in your report list…”

“Don’t you cheek me, Meier. I want to hear it from you.”

Of course I knew why he was here. His teacher, Miss Williams, had told me personally. Which didn’t surprise me, as she had overheard him calling some pupils of non-european background by quite unappropriate and disgusting words. Wilhelmsen Institute was as international as international went, and with pupils from more than 40 countries I was not going to tolerate any form of racism here.

“Miss, I was sent here because I used inappropriate language.”

“Please, would you care to be more precise, Meier?”

“Miss, please….”

“So, ashamed are you, right? As you should be. Watanabe is no less a human being than you are, and so is Danquah. Or any other of the pupils here. Really, Meier, you should know better.”

“Yes, Miss.”

“Well, I do well know that this is a lesson that is not taught with a dose of the cane alone.” Florian Meiers face reddened even more when the implement of correction was called by its name. “Therefore, before I will cane you – and I will do so severely – hear the following: You will write a 1000-words essay about the evils of racial predjudice, which you shall read aloud before assembly on monday morning. You will also write personal apologies to Miss Watanabe and Mr. Danquah. Understood?”

“Yes, Miss.”

“Now, as I told you before, I am going to cane you now. I know this is your first time to receive any form of corporal punishment here at school. Please know that with that terrible kind of misconduct you have shown, I can not be lenient in any way. It will be a full ten of the best, on your briefs. Now, you will drop your trousers and bend over my desk. You will grab the other side of the desk with your hands, and keep them there while I cane you. You will not stand up before I tell you so. If you do, or in any other way interfere with your deserved punishment, you will receive extra strokes. Now, this will hurt a great deal, it is meant to. You may cry and sob, but I will not tolerate any jumping around or too much wiggling…

Now, get in position!”

I watched him bending over. He already looked positively chastened. But, as I told him, with his crime there could not be any leniency. I grabbed the waistband of his underpants and stretched them tightly over his bottom. Then, I took the junior cane.

Ten of the best I promised him, ten of the best he got. He took them not well. I could see he was close to agony, butn that was what I intended. He was crying and begging while the rattan bit his backside again and again.

“Stop that fuss, Meier. You deserve this, so take it!”

The last strokes left him sobbing over my desk. Vicious, swollen stripes could be seen where is underpants ended.

“Stand up, readjust your uniform, and stand facing the wall. Now, if I ever hear anything of racism from you again, you will be sent home in disgrace. I hope you will learn that it is wrong, and that no one here will tolerate it.”

He took his place on the wall. What left only one more thing for me to do: disciplining Jenny Woods.

…to be continued…

Punishment Friday: July 6th

So it was friday again. And while there were certainly – amongst the pupils – those who thought I enjoyed the punishment sessions, that was very much not the case. Oh, I do feel the need for discipline, and I do carry out the punishments with no leniency, but it is not a task that I particularly look forward. How much nicer is it to award pupils for academic success or good behaviour than having to punish them for their infractions.

Both is neccessary.

At least, there were only four in the line today. But then, one of them was Woods from 10b, and dealing with her again would be very unpleasant. And I’d make her feel that.

Now, first things first. Youngest today was Tineke Smit from 6B. According to her teacher, she’d been acting up in class quite often lately, refusing to listen and generally fooling around during lessons. Her teacher felt that she was not a bad girl in general, but in need of firmer discipline.

Before asking my secretary to sent her in, I placed the slipper on my desk, so that the girl would see it. I wasn’t sure if I would need it, but seeing it laying there, ready, might give the girl a good idea that a return visit would not be advisable. I put the small, straight nursery cane right beside the slipper. It is what I would use when dealing with serious infractions of pupils from the primary school years.

I let Linde-Louise sent the girl in. Now, most young pupils being sent to me look afraid. Tineke Smit just looked bored. There even was a hint of a mischivous smile there. I instantly knew that while her infractions per se were only light ones, this girl would need a sterner lesson than I previously thought.

I had her stand before my desk and began questioning her. After just a short time I already had an idea of what might be the problem. Smit was a day pupil, not one of the boarders. And her parents were strict, very strict. I am a strong supporter of traditional upbringing and the neccessary parental strictness, but there are some parents, who overdo it. Young Tineke was 11, but she had no freedoms. So, with no possibility to check out her limits at home, she was doing so at school.

So, if you thought before that my job was easy, think again. Of course, the girl needed punishment. Her behaviour wasn’t appropriate at all, and it was intolerable. But it was understandable, too.

“So, Smit, what should I do with you?”

“Miss, spank me?”

Obviously, she knew spankings well.

“Yes, I will spank you. Soundly. But there will be more.”

“M… more, Miss?”

“Yes. I decided that you might benefit from a little more extracurricular activities. I think you might like the swimming team, or the theatre club. You know there are many possibilities.”

“Yes, Miss, but my parents won’t let me! They insist I come home right after school!”

“Well, they will let you. I will give you a letter telling them so. And if they won’t, come to me at any time.”

It was walking a thin line, I knew. Normally, no teacher ever should interfere with how parents wanted to raise their children. But in some cases, i felt, I needed to.

I had Smit get over my knee. As I lifted up her school dress, I could see faint marks on her thighs, like from a switch. I gave her six with the slipper, which she took without much fuss. There were a few tears, but no more. But I could see she would try to be a good girl from now on.

Before putting her nose to the wall, I wrote a short notice to her parents and handed it to her. She held it close, then tucked it in a pocket of her dress and took her position on the wall.

Next was Daniel P. Addler from 10A. His offences were the usual ones for a boy his age. He seemed to be of the impression that not wearing a tie made him look cool, and tht girls were mainly there to be for teasing and playing pranks. Like many others alike him, he would learn a painful lesson.

When he entered, I could see that he was quite a confident boy. I could easily see that he liked to think of himself rather as a young man already. I could even understand how he felt that his uniform, shorts, kneesocks and all, didn’t fit with his self-image. Well, a thrashing in the headmistresses office didn’t either, and he was about to receive one.

After explaining him exactly that, he was at least smart enough not to argue with me that he was too old for such punishments. So when I ordered him to lower his school shorts and bend over my desk, he did so with little reluctance.

I took the junior cane and held it before his face, so he could see it.

“Now, Addler, I am going to give you 8 strokes of this junior cane. Of those, four are for wearing incorrect uniform and the other four are for your intolerable behaviour towards your female classmates. This caning will hurt a great deal – it is meant to, so you learn from it. I expect you to take it without any interference, is that clear?”

“Yes, Miss!”

“Well then, lets get it over with!”

He was in tears right after the second stroke. I was sure he felt not very grown up now. His bottom danced under my strokes, twice I had to remind him not to struggle. The threat of extra strokes made him comply. After the full eight strokes had been given, he lay sobbing over my desk, begging for forgiveness. He was a very sorry boy. Which was what he should be.

Pulling up his shorts obviously was uncomfortable for him, and I could see he would have loved to rub his burning backside right now. But, of course, that was not to be. Instead, he had to stand facing the wall, his hands not on his bottom but folded on his back.

So this it was. Half of the culprits had been dealt with. On fridays with more pupils on report I’d used this time for a short break, but today, with only two more pupils waiting, I chose to continue right away.

“Sent the next one in, please”

…to be continued…

Dorm Room Discussions

Thursday afternoon, there was only one thing that the girls talked about after school.

“Did you hear? Old Fliegner caught Jenny with her skirt too short!”. Patricia Miller was eager to spread the news.
“Oh, but wasn’t she sent to the headmistress just last week?” Katrin Schmidt asked, while Anne Wilkinson commented: “Now, how can she be that stupid? From what I hear, Caro Fletcher from 12A just got a whacking for that last friday.”

“She did, and a good caning too, for smoking. Like Jenny got.” Patricia always knew all the new stories. But, of course, Jennys punishment had been a much-discussed topic during the last days.

The punishments given by the headmistress were always of special interest for all the pupils at Wilhelmsen Institute. And especially so when someone from ones own year got it. Miss von Platen-Wilhelms had earned a reputation as a stern disciplinarian

“Hey, Suki, you’re in her room! Know anything?”

Suki Watanabe was just passing by. “She is still sore, sleeping on her belly each night. But yes, I saw her shortening her skirt up this morning. Hell, you should see her poor bum, I’ve never had it that worse…”

“You haven’t had it at all, dearie. Everyone knows that!” Patricia was as smartmouthed as ever.

Katrin stopped that discussion short. “Now, what do you think the dragon’ll do with her?”

It was a question to which the girls found many answers. Patricia insisted that it would be a severe caning, while Katrin thought that Jenny might just be expelled and sent home. Anne suggested it might be both, while Suki silently wondered if her lucky streak would continue. She was no angel, but had avoided being caught so far.

The chattering went on for a few minutes, when suddenly Kristina Larsson called from inside the study room:

“Oh, come on, you’ll find out tomorrow afternoon. It’s past five already, let’s finish homework before supper!”

That ended the discussion, as the girls all went to work. They would find out tomorrow.

Anyway, the one girl who was the most curious was with no doubt Jenny Woods. In less than 24 hours, she would have to walk over the headmistresses doorstep, for the second time in 7 days. And what would happen there, no one knew for sure…

Punishment Friday, 29.06 | Part 2

Sitting at my desk, sipping my tea in silence, I went over the list of pupils that still were outside. One pupil from year 10. Two pupils from year 11. And two seniors from year 12. Two of those five, Jenny Woods from 10B and Caroline Fletcher from 12A had been caught smoking. Even if she did not know it yet this earned those two the honour of being put to the end of the line. Wilhelmsen International Institute had a strict non-smoking policy, the girls were in for exemplary and severe punishment.

Putting my cup away, I pressed the button on the intercom.
“Linde-Louise, please sent in the next one. Oh, and remember that Woods and Fletcher will be last, and come in together.”

This made Lisa Müller next, a 16 year old girl who had been sent here for tardiness and missing homework. She had been in my office before and certainly knew what to expect.

She walked in slowly, her head lowered. Her uniform looked neat. ‘Well, at least she knew how to attend a “meeting” with the headmistress’, i thought to myself.

“Well, Müller, I am not exactly pleased to see you here.” I started my sermon.

“Yes, Miss”

“It says here that you were late for several lessons, and that you failed to hand in your homework for the third time this week. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I have no excuse, Miss. I just forgot to do it.”

The girl was fidgeting a little. I also noticed her clutching her left hand.

“Show me your left hand!” I ordered her. She did so. I could see the hand was reddened and a little swollen.”

“Lisa Müller, have you been punished today?” I asked sternly.

“Yes, Miss”

“What for?”

“I was late for class, after lunch break. Miss Martin gave me 5, with the ruler.”

“I see. Well, we should add that instance of tardiness to those already in the report, don’t you think?”

Müller flushed slightly. “Yes, Miss.”

“Well, then let us get it over with. Lift up your skirt and bend over the desk. I am going to give you 8 strokes with the cane. 5 for your missing homework, and 3 for your repeated tardiness.”

“Yes Miss.”

I watched her as she obediently grabbed her skirt and pulled it up above her waist. She then laid her chest over my desk and grabbed the far side with her hands. I picked up the junior cane and moved into position.

“Now, Müller. 8 Strokes it is. And don’t you dare to interfere in any way, or it’ll be extra strokes.”

Lisa Müller tried to take her beating with dignity. She stoically refused to make any sound after the first 4 strokes, which I placed over her knicker-clad bottom in one-centimetre intervals. Number 5 made her gasp sharply as it hit one more centimetre lower, almost there where bottom meets thigh. She knew from experience how I caned, where the next strokes would land.
Tears came with those next two strokes, which made neat double-impacts on her thighs. The last stroke had her digging her fingers in my desk, to prevent herself from jumping up and earning extra. It was made to be remembered though, as it crossed her bottom diagonally, intersecting with the rest of my handywork.

“Now, adjust your uniform and stand facing the wall. Let this be a lesson to you!”

“Yes, Miss.” She sobbed.

I made the entry into the punishment book and then asked my secretary to sent in the next one.

Michelle Smith came from the same class as Lisa Müller. It was her first visit here, but she had been punished in class on several occaissions.

“Now, Smith. I hope your uniform is correct today!” I told her as she entered the room and stood in front of my desk.

Silence

“Well, girl, is it?”

“Yes, Miss, i think so.”

“You think so? Well, lets see”

I stood up and walked around her, watching her closely. ‘Yes, today she got it right’ I thought to myself as I finished my short inspection of her uniform.

“I see it is all in order today, which at least is one thing that I find pleasing about your visit here. However, wearing correct and full uniform is a very important part of school life, so I cannot let you off too easily. And then, of course, there is the second point on your report.”

“Miss?”

“Well, is it not true that after he reminded you that neither sneaker socks nor earrings are part of the uniform you were trying to argue with Mr. Fliegner about it?”

“Yes, i mean no, Miss. It is true.”

“I see. And did you comment on what you felt were his ‘old-fashioned values’ during that discussion?”

“Yes, I did. Look, Miss, I am really…”

“Stop it, girl. I know you probably are sorry, but you will be a lot more sorry when I am done with you.”

I picked up the junior cane and flexed it between my hands.

“Miss, please, not the cane! Please!”

“Yes, Smith, the cane. Wearing non-regulation items is a offence that alone merits punishment, but arguing with a teacher when ordered to change into correct uniform is something I take very seriously. Lift up your skirt and bend over the desk.”

“Miss, please, let me…”

“That’s two extra strokes, girl. And now bend over!”

This time, she did.

I stepped beside her and held the tip of the cane in front of her face.

“Now, Smith, you will get a total of 10 strokes. 4 for wearing non-regulation clothing, 4 for arguing with Mr. Fliegner and those two extra strokes you earned just a moment ago.”

At first, she tried to take her caning bravely. But after the second stroke she began sobbing. Then, her legs started coming up after each stroke. I told her to stop fidgeting, but after the 6th stroke, she jumped up and rubbed her bottom.

“Stop that disgusting dance right now and bend back over! Or you will get another two extra, and I will have you held down for the rest of your punishment! Is that clear?”

She fought with herself for a moment and then bent back over. She was a well-chastened girl when she was finally told to stand up. Tears were running across her cheeks as she carefully straightened her skirt. Her blonde hair was in disarray, and I could hear her sob as she put her nose to the wall like the other pupils.

Next came Peter Williams from 12A. It is a rare occaission that seniors have to report for corporal punishment, but it did happen from time to time. His infractions were those the most common for pupils his age: Misconduct and Insolence. Translated, that meant acting up in class (to impress his classmates) and backtalk.

Normally, those offences were dealt with best by the class teachers. Having to hold out your hand for the ruler in front of those you tried to impress often did a fine job. This case was different, for Peter Williams was a repeat offender. And his last prank had involved him showing of his naked behind out of a classroom window.

As a senior, he wore long trousers along his shirt and blazer. The uniform, at least, was immaculate, the school tie almost bound to perfection. In a way, he looked more like a young man, not like a schoolboy. But he was a schoolboy, and he would find out what that meant soon enough.

“Williams, I am displeased to see you here. At your age, you should know better.”

Anyone knew that Peter Williams had turned 18 a few weeks ago.

“Anyway, I have no option but to punish you severely. And, befitting your crime, i think it is appropriate to cane you not on your underpants, but on that bare part of your anatomy which you felt you had to show at the window. Don’t youn think so, too, Williams?”

“Yes, Miss!”

“Well, at least you are old enough to know better than to argue with me. So, step out of your trousers and bend over. You should know how it i
s done from your visits back when you were a junior.”

“Yes, Miss.”

It always looked a little strange if a boy as old as Peter Williams prepared for punishment. Physically, he really was more man than boy. However, bent over my desk in underpants and argyle socks, he did not anymore look very manly.

I slid my fingers into the waistband of his briefs and pulled them down to his thighs. Bare bottom punishments were allowed by school regulations, of course, but I seldom used them. I felt that a pair of knickers or underpants did not offer much protection from a cane or slipper, but it allowed the pupil to keep a certain modesty. In case of Williams, I decided for a bare bottom caning just because he had already lost that modesty when he showed his behind to the world.

I took the senior cane out of the cupboard and whipped it throught the air. Despite its size and thickness, it was still flexible like hell. And it stung like that, too. Peter Williams could be sure to enjoy his cane-marks for the next weeks.

“Eight of the best. You know how to take them, Williams”

And he tried to take them like a man. I had promised him eight of the best, I delivered them. Full swing, with that little flick of the wrist right before impact. He tried not to, but couldn’t keep himself from gasping loud. After the eight stroke, he was clearly in grave discomfort, you could hear he was only barely holding back tears.

As he wanted to get up i stopped him, by putting my cane to his back.

“No, Williams. I want you to serve as an example for the others. It seems to me that you wanted others to take a look at your posterior, so we will let them, don’t you agree?”

No answer was neccessary.

“Wills, Lafleur, Goodwyn, Dubois, Müller, Smith! Face my desk!”

They did so.

“Now, this is what happens to those who think their bottom is made for the public. Learn from what you see!”

The 6 pupils took a good look at what was now a very well-caned bottom. 8 swollen stripes covered it. And it felt even more painful than it looked.

“Well then, noses back to the wall. Williams, adjust your uniform and join them!”

I watched him getting his trousers on again. Surely he would try to tell his friends how bravely he took his beating. But he would have to admit then that he had to show his arse in a very undignified manner to 6 pupils from the lower years…

It was time to attend to the last two offenders today. The two girls who were caught smoking. I placed the senior cane on my desk, right beside the junior cane.

“Linde-Louise”, i called my secretary. “Sent them in!”

The two girls entered my office. Jenny Woods was 15, Caroline Fletcher was 17. She was from the same class that Peter Williams came from.
The two girls stood before me in their school uniforms. Jennys looked neat. So did Carolines, for one grave exception. The normal school skirt for senior girls was longer, reaching down well below the knees. They were allowed to opt for the shorter skirts the juniors wore, which reached the ground when they kneeled. The one Caroline wore looked shorter, which was easily to bee seen as she stood beside Jenny Woods, whose skirt was regulation length.

“Fletcher, Woods. You both know why you are here. Let me tell you I am disgusted! Smoking is one of the worst habits there is, and neither the school rules nor I myself have any tolerance for it. And you two won’t either, when I am done with you.”

They both flushed a little. Jenny Woods eyes went wide as she saw the two canes resting on my desk.

“Yes, Woods,” I said, noticing what she looked at, “you will both be caned.”

Jenny Woods had once been slippered by me when she was in year 6. Now, however, she realized she was in for a more severe punishment. But there was that other matter to attend first.

“I shall inspect your uniforms first. Stand there, hands on your heads.”

Both uniforms looked well. Jenny Woods had one of her argyles pulled up a little lower than the other. I told her so and she bend to correct it. Fletcher had the uppermost button of her blouse loosened. She also quickly corrected that. Then I came to the point of my interest.

“Now, kneel down!”

As they complied, I could easily see that Caroline Fletchers Skirt was non-regulation. Colour and general style matched, but it ended a few centimetres above the floor. Jenny Woods skirt touched the ground as it should be.

“Fletcher, is that a regulation skirt?”

“It is, Miss!”

It couldn’t be. Was she lying in my face, despite the fact that clearly her skirt was too short. Or had she… Even if Fletcher might not believe, her headmistress was a schoolgirl once, and she knew the tricks.

“You have been tucking your skirt up above your waist, have you?”

“Well, yes, Miss!”

“You know that is forbidden. Stand up and bend over! Woods, you may stand up as well!”

As Fletcher bend over my desk, I lifted her skirt up. At least, the girl had been smart enough to wear a pair of regulation knickers. I took my slipper and walked around the girl.

“Four on your knickers, Fletcher. And that is just for your skirt!”

I took aim, laying the plimsoll on the girls knicker-clad bottom. And then brought it down for four forceful whacks, two across each cheek. Each stroke was followed by a very girlish sigh, almost silent after the first, well audible after the last stroke.

“Stand up and face my desk!”

As she did so, she straightened her skirt and brought it down to regulation lenght. I had both girls stand in front of my desk while I delivered them a good talking to about the evils of smoking. Woods looked frightened, while Fletcher still tried to look innocent. It was a technique she had probably perfected over the years. With her pouty lips, blue eyes and long blonde hair she looked angelic, and it had probably helped her out of some situations in which she may have deserved punishment. I knew form a talk with her mother that her father often was persuaded not to punish his daughter just by those innocent looks she threw at him. Well, it would not work with me.

“Fletcher, your punishment will be 8 strokes with the senior cane. Lift up your skirt and get over my desk again.”

Slowly, the girl moved, then stopped.

“Miss, please…”

“No, Fletcher. You won’t get out of this. Now bend over or it will be two extra strokes”

She obeyed, this time.

“Woods, for you it will be eight strokes, too. Six with the junior cane, and two with the senior. Lift your skirt and assume the position, there, at the side of your fellow smoker!”

The two girls were now bent over my desk, side by side. I gave Jenny Woods her six strokes with the junior cane first. She was crying after the third. Then Fletcher got her thrashing. Her attitude was beaten out of her apparently after the first stroke. After that, she just held on to the desk and let her tears flow. I was sure after she had taken the fourth stroke that she would not smoke again. After the full eight strokes, she was crying hard.

“I am sorry, Miss.” she said, sobbing between the words.

“Well, let that be a lesson to you!” I replied. “Now, Woods, lets find out how the senior cane becomes you!”

“Miss, please, not the senior cane. Pleeease!”

“That’s it, Woods. Two extra, with the senior cane!”

She took those last four strokes, desperately trying not to get up. When it was over, she, too, was crying hard.

“Both of you, stand facing my desk.”

“Now, this was most unpleasant. I don’t want you to see in here ever again. You now do know that smoking is not good for you, be it your lungs or bottoms. Each of you will prepare a shor
t essay on the dangers of smoking, describing your punishment. You will read it to the assembly on monday before classes. Understood?”

Adressing all pupils I continued. “I hope this has been a lesson for all of you. Now, please form a queue in front of my desk as you will each get your punishment information card that you will bring back next week, with your parents signatures.

I filled out each card and gave it to the respective pupil. Finally, the days work was almost done. I called in Linde-Louise, for there were still some things to attend to. A headmistresses work, it sometimes seems, is never done.

Punishment Friday, 29.06

It was a rainy afternoon. The clock slowly advanced towards half past three, at which time the school bell would ring one last time for the pupils at Wilhelmsen International Boarding School.
But while most of those pupils were already looking forward to a nice and enjoyable weekend, a few had other thoughts on their minds. They would have to report to the headmistress’ office right after classes – to be punished.
Wilhelmsen Institute was one of the few schools that kept on using corporal punishment. Located on an island, just off the north german coast, it housed pupils from countries all around the world whose parents cherished the old-fashioned approach to discipline. In the classroom, teachers made use of a wooden ruler, applied to the pupils palms, to deal with minor infractions. For more serious things, pupils could be slippered by their form masters – or, for repeated or very serious offences, got sent to the headmistress.

That headmistress would be me.

So there I was again, waiting for my secretary, to inform me that all those who had been ordered to report for punishment were waiting. I had their files on my desk already: there were nine of them this friday. There were the usual cases of repeated tardiness, misconduct and insolence. More shocking, there were two girls who had been sent to me for smoking. I intended to deliver a very clear and sharp message to them. Seven of the pupils were from secondary school classes, two were sent up from the primary school attached to the institute. There were 4 boys and 5 girls, the age range was from 9 to 18 years.
I took the punishment book out of my desk and placed it on top of it. Then I turned to the implements that were traditionally used at my office. The three canes, junior, senior and a straight-ended, short nursery cane, were at their place in a cupboard. My heavy, rubber-soled plimsoll resided in its desk drawer, from where I took it and placed it on my desk. The wooden ruler already lay there.

The intercom rang. My secretary informed me that the pupils had all arrived.

“All right. Please send the first one in!”

The secretary knew I always took the youngest first. So, after a few seconds, there was a feeble knock on my door.

“Enter” i said sternly.

A nine-year old boy entered. Slim in appearance, with blond hair and pale skin, he slowly walked up to my desk. I noticed that his uniform was neat and tidy.

“John Luke Wills!” i adressed the boy. “I read here that you were calling Miss Williams by some disgusting names?”

Silence. The boys face just turned red, and his eyes seemed to be fixed on the floor.

“Now, have you? And look at me when I talk to you!”

“Yes, Miss. I have.” He answered in a low voice. “But..I didn’t mean it!”

“Well, in that case you should not have said it in the first place, don’t you think?”

He nodded. Silently.

“I didn’t hear you, Wills!”

“Miss, you are right, Miss!”

“Now, what you have done is a serious offence. I see from your file that you are generally well-behaved. It is your first time here, but know that I cannot be lenient with you. You have to learn once and for all to respect your teachers. What did Miss Williams give you?”

“Five, Miss, on my hand”

“I see. Well, it won’t be your hand that will be sore after I am done with you.” I stood up and walked around my desk. I turned the chair that stood before it around and sat down, reaching for the plimsoll waiting on the desk.

“Stand before me, Wills.”

He did.

“Now, I am going to give you 8 strokes, over your underpants. If you struggle or in any other way interfere with your punishment, you will receive extra. Is that clear?

“Yes, Miss.”

“Then lets get those trousers down”. I opened the boys trousers and slid them down to his knees. Then I guided him into position over my knees.

“Now, Wills, let this be a lesson to you. If I see you here again, it’ll be the cane.”

And with those words, I started slippering him. I dealt out the strokes slow and methodically, alternating cheeks. By the fourth one, the boy was already sobbing, but he took his thrashing without interference.

“Now, get up and adjust your uniform. Then stand there, facing the wall, hands behind your back.”

The crying boy did as he was told, slowly pulling up his trousers and his kneesocks, which had slipped down a little. Then he stood facing the wall, while I completed his entry in the punishment book.

“Next one, please”

‘Next one’ was Florence Lafleur. Ten years old, sent for repeated tardiness. As she entered, she already looked terrified. I could see it was not only her first time here, in her four years at the institute, she had never been punished. Of course, she feared what lay ahead.

As I told her she would be punished now she whinced silently. However, she fully understood what i told her about the importance of being on time.

“Now, girl, I want you to stand before me. You will lift up your skirt.”

Little Florence complied immediately. Tears were already flowing. A light, but sharp, reminder would be enough for her. I took her arm while standing at her side and then raised my palm. And SMACK, I slapped her right leg. And SMACK, her left one. And SMACK and SMACK and SMACK and SMACK. Six slaps on her legs.

“Now, let that be a lesson to you. Now, stand there, nose to the wall, hand on your back, just right beside Mr. Wills.”

I let the next one enter the room. Martin Goodwyn was 13, and sent here for incorrect uniform and untidy behavior. As he entered the room, I could see what the reporting teacher meant. He looked outright untidy. His socks hung around his ankles, his trousers were a little dirty. And his shirt, oh well, it hadn’t seen any ironing for some time.

“Martin Goodwyn, do you think it is appropriate to come to your headmistress in such clothing?”

“Miss, I AM wearing my uniform…”

“Don’t you cheek me, Goodwyn! In fact, your so called uniform would not even be appropriate for the classroom. It isn’t appropriate even more so for a visit to me.”

I took the junior cane out of the cupboard and held it in my hands. I clearly had the boys attention.

“Now, you well know that the rules are clear on this. Each pupil has to wear full and clean uniform. And you will, too. When I have dealt with you. Understood?”

“Yes, but…”

“No buts, Goodwyn. That’ll be two extra for your impertinence. Now, step out of your trousers and bend over my desk.”

He complied.

“Now, Goodwyn, I shall give you 6 strokes. Four for your untidyness, and two for your impertinent behavior. Now, you shall not get up before I say so, and you will in neither way interfere with your punishment – or it will be a lot worse. Understood?”

“Yes, Miss.”

He took his caning well. I laid the strokes on with force, but he held tight to the desk, gasping at each impact, finally quite audibly for the last few strokes. He would be well-marked for the next days, and especially the two cuts I laid across his upper thighs would remind him of his crime every time he sat down.

He then was ordered to take his place facing the wall, beside the two other pupils already there. It was time for number four.

Number four, in this case, was fifteen year old Gerard Dubois. His form-master sent him to me for his repeated tardiness and general misconduct in class.

He was a tall boy, looking almost too old for his school-shorts and kneesocks. But he wasn’t. And he wasn’t too old for a sound lesson from his headmistress, either. Gerard had been at my office before. Last year, he had received four strokes of the cane for his disruptive behavior in class, and he was a regular name in the c
lassroom punishment books. As I saw him confidently walking into my office, I knew there was no place for any leniency with this boy.

“Gerard Dubois, you were here before. You know why you were sent here. So, I shall come right to the point. As a repeat offender, you will be dealt with severely. It will be a very unpleasant experience for you, but it will be for your own good.”

The boy still looked unpertubed. It seemed that he didn’t fear what was about to happen.

“I can see you are unimpressed. Or maybe you are just trying to look that way. Well, we’ll see if a good dose of the cane might change your childish attitude!”

He didn’t look so sure now.

“I think it will be 10 strokes today. On your underpants. 5 for your repeated tardiness, another five for your behavior in class. Now, down with those trousers and bend over!”

He still tried to keep his face straight, not showing any fear. But his confidence was almost gone. However, I’d make sure he’d learn. I adressed the three pupils facing the wall.

“Wills, Lafleur, Goodwyn. I want you to witness what happens to those who don’t learn from their first visit here. Turn around and watch closely.”

“Miss, please…” That was Gerard. I walked up to him and smacked his legs, two times, with force.

“Yes, Dubois, you shall serve as an example. Which is what you deserve. Now stay in position and take your punishment.”

I could hear Gerard Dubois trying not to start crying during the first 6 strokes. Then he broke, and the tears came flooding. I laid them on good, beginning on the upper part of his posterior and finishing right on his upper thighs. There, below the line of his underpants, the blossoming red cane-marks were clearly to be seen. First, a white line formed, soon turning into the swollen double-line that is so typical for a caning. The three pupils on the wall watched, shocked by the severity of a thorough caning. Little Florence started crying again.

Finally, the tenth stroke was given. I ordered the boy to stand up and adjust his uniform. Then I ordered all four pupils to get their noses to the wall again. And decided that I just needed a little break.

“Linde-Louise”, I called my secretary, “would you please bring me a cup of tea? I’ll deal with the rest after that.”

And then, with 4 chastised pupils standing facing the wall, and five more waiting outside, I took five minutes to relax and enjoy my tea…

…will be continued tomorrow. All reports coming in since last friday will, of course, be dealt with this friday

Punishment Friday

Can you imagine what it must be like to be ordered to the headmistress office on friday after classes? Well, every one knows the headmistress deals with those who broke the school rules during the week then.

There usually are a few pupils waiting in front of the office, waiting to be sent in by the school secretary. They know why they were sent here, and they know that punishment awaits…

Well, guess what! I am the headmistress. And you can be one of those girls and boys waiting to be beckoned in my office.

Just send me a message with the subject “Report”, including:

– Name, Age and Gender of pupil
– Reason for being sent to the headmistress

You may also include:

– appearance of pupil
– more info on his/her character

Each friday, I will then inform you here about which pupils had to report to my office and how I dealt with them. I hope this will be entertaining.

Yours

Stefanie D. von Platen-Wilhelms