Curiosity caned the Kat - by DJ BLack
Posted by Chross
Source: A Voice in the Corner
Angel watched the perfect creature cross the quad. Her gothic hair cut with an angled fringe in a shock of black that matched her heavy eye shadow. Her fierce dark brown eyes defied the world to challenge her and drew a picture of a girl that Angel wanted to be.
Like Angel, Domino was 18 and in her last year at school. She was a new girl and had started quite a stir when she had first arrived. Her name alone, apparently her genuine given name, had raised eyebrows. The rumour was that she had been taken out of her liberal arts school by her father, although one might suspect that Domino did not approve.
How did she get away with it? Angel wondered longingly, she would never have dared to have been so rebellious.
“You still mooning over Domino,” Miranda asked seeing where her friend’s gaze had settled. “You know old Bentley will clip her wings soon enough, he’s just biding his time like he does with all the new girls.”
Miranda was used to Angel’s crushes, she went through two per term and always it was the most unsuitable girls that she fixated upon. Everyone but her, Miranda thought wistfully.
“Oh I am not,” Angel blushed. “I am too old for crushes,” she lied.
Miranda liked the way that Angel blushed; it suited her round face surrounded as it was by her strawberry blonde hair. Angel was a study in roundness and in the nicest way. Little circles of her small breasts pressed against her school jumper and her bottom was two perfect bubbles enclosed within another beneath her regulation skirt.
John Bentley stood at the window of his study that overlooked much of the inner part of the school. Looking out, the housemaster watched Domino as she crossed the quad and he let out a long slow tired breath through his nose.
“Testing time for the new girl is coming to an end I fear,” Bentley sighed. “I had rather hoped that she would have settled down by now.”
“Who’s that?” Kat Hayley said with sudden interest looking up from her tea. Following John Bentley’s eyes she saw the new girl, the Goth with the stupid name. “She’s crossing the quad,” Kat exclaimed. “Are you going to let her get away with that?”
Kat tried to suppress her excitement. The prospect of girls in trouble had always held a strange fascination for Kat, and from where she was standing, Domino was heading for lots of it.
“No,” Bentley said tartly and began to stir his own tea.
Kat shivered with some unnamed pleasure. Despite being well into his 40s, John Bentley was the kind of man that Kat had always been drawn too. Tall and athletic with short thick greying hair, just the right side of white at the temples. She looked at his hands where he gripped the teacup. Hands better suited to a cricket bat, shotgun or… she licked her lips, his cane.
At 28 Kat Hayley had come to the school in search of a new life. That had been a year before. One of the reasons she had chosen Chadsworth was that even in the 1990s it still had the cane. She had told herself that the order and discipline of the school would be less stressful, but in her heart she knew there were other reasons.
Domino stood lazily in front of her housemaster threatening the world with her pout. Her top button was undone revealing a forbidden silver skull medallion at her neck, the dead face of which looked more attentive at that moment than the 18-year-old Goth did. Even with her head tilted sideways to favour the short side of her radical hairstyle, the longer edge of black was well onto her shoulder.
“Are you listening to me?” John Bentley said with a sharpened tone. “Your hair has to be up or cut even and well off the shoulder on both sides. As for that… jewellery, if I can call it that, it is not an acceptable alternative to a crucifix. Not by a damn sight. In fact it is downright offensive.”
“I bought it in this really cool shop in Chelsea,” Domino said sniffily, “My hair too.”
“Do you imagine I care,” Bentley said rubbing the bridge of his nose.
“Stand up straight,” Bentley barked suddenly, shaking Domino from her complacency. “After we are finished here you will go to matron and have her do something with… this.” The housemaster batted the air with the back of his hand, indicating Domino’s coiffeur. “Now give me that… that pirate bauble is it?”
“You can’t it’s mine…” Domino said sullenly, but with uncertainty creeping into her voice.
Bentley cut her off, “you will give me that now.” His eyes flashed demonically.
Domino’s hands went involuntarily to her throat and to her surprise began to fiddle with the clasp.
“As I was saying,” Bentley continued as he turned away to fetch something, not even looking to see if he would be obeyed, “after we have finished here you will see matron about your hair etcetera and then you will return here and we will talk about the quad and the rules pertaining to it.”
Domino blanched a little, she didn’t know he knew about crossing the quad. What did he mean finished and what did he mean about coming back? Normally she would have spoken this aloud, why wouldn’t she? But today some primeval sense of self-preservation closed her mouth.
Bentley extended one hand towards her to take the forbidden medallion; his other, Domino noticed held a cane.
“What’s that? I mean what are you… you going to do with that?” Domino had heard about this. It had been part of the induction. It had been in the notes her father had made her sign.
“This, my girl, is a cane,” Bentley cut the air with it. “And I am going to place it across your bare bottom several times. With some vigour I might add.”
Domino gaped, her eyes wide as for the first time in her life she listened to a teacher.
“Don’t do it Angel,” Miranda hissed.
But too late; Angel steeled herself and with one last look round she stepped onto the quad floor as if it were a pit of snakes. Domino has to notice me now, she thought gleefully. She felt like a hunted rabbit as she walked across the quad as quickly as she could without actually running.
She almost made it when she saw Domino. The object of her affections was walking slowly on the side path, carefully almost painfully putting one foot in front of the other. The Goth girl was staring miserably at her feet and if Angel didn’t know any better, she could have sworn that she had been crying.
That was not all. Her hair had been cut short into a crude short bob, the lopsided fringe that had obscured her right eye now level. Her face had a scrubbed look to it without a hint of her trademark heavy eye make-up.
Angel stopped and gaped in horror. What could have happened?
“Angel Webster,” came an imperious voice, “You girl.”
Angel started and looked up. Like a king on a palace balcony, Mr Bentley stood glaring down at her.
“Me Sir,” Angel said with a gulp. Then she realised she was still standing in the quad.
“I think you had better come up and see me, don’t you?”
“Yes Sir,” Angel groaned.
Angel felt a bit shaky and not a little sick. The quad was out of bounds, what had she been thinking?
“Do I take it that you wish to follow in young Domino’s footsteps?” Bentley said wearily.
“Sir?” Angel said quizzically, her voice barely a whisper.
“The quad, you were crossing the quad. I mean, I presume you have not joined the teaching staff since breakfast this morning?”
“No Sir I…”
“So you thought you would take a leaf out of Domino’s handbook on how not to survive Chadsworth?”
“No Sir, I mean well Sir… I mean…”
“I have not had cause to cane you before,” Bentley said taking up the stick from his desk.
The scratch-rattle of wood on wood set Angel’s teeth on edge.
“Copycat actions call for a reciprocal response,” Bentley continued, “You might not have been caned before, but you know the drill.”
“Yes Sir,” Angel said miserably.
She slowly unbuttoned her blazer while the housemaster turned an old tattered armchair away from the wall so that its back faced the middle of the room. There was no unbleached patch on the carpet underneath as might be found under other furniture in the room; this chair was moved too often for that. Indeed this was the second time today he had turned it to face the wall. Bentley tapped the seat of the chair with the cane tip as Angel reluctantly stepped forward so that the front of her thighs pressed against the back of the chair. Tucking her school tie into her blouse she flopped forward so that her elbows touched the seat of the chair and her skirt-clad bottom was elevated.
Glancing down, Bentley sighed and flipped Angel’s skirt up for her, extracting a small gasp from the nervous 18-year-old as he did so. Then an age passed as she waited on the rest. Debagging wasn’t inevitable, certainly not for a first taste of the stick, but a bare-bender was the traditional sanction for a quad invasion.
Bentley let out a long slow breath and then said in an efficient tone, “don’t dawdle there lets have those down.”
Tears pricked at Angel’s eyes and she remembered he had said ‘reciprocal response.’ Domino had been caned on the bare then, she realised and took a strange comfort from that as she rocked her hips to work the last veil of modesty over her hips.
It wouldn’t have been so bad if Bentley had shown the least pleasure at her exposure, but the old disciplinarian was too business-like for that.
The cane sliced with a thwack that cut deep and Angel announced it with a wet wail. You cry-baby, she cursed herself, but a quick succession of strokes stole her thoughts.
There were eight strokes in all. Each one searingly placed below the last and none of which were allowed to stop singing before the next arrived. In all the caning took less than a minute, by which time Angel was blubbing like a sprog.
“Alright pull them up,” Bentley growled.
Angel got unsteadily to her feet and hastened to obey. She stopped to wipe her eyes with her sleeve, cursing the fact that her nose was running.
Bentley dropped the cane onto the desk with a clatter and the turned expectantly to face her.
Angel sniffed and managed to remember to extend her hand out to the housemaster. “Thank you Sir,” she said, her voice slightly strained.
“Alright, get out,” Bentley said with a sigh, adding, “You silly girl.”
Angel stumbled for the door and not waiting for it to fully open, squeezed through the narrow gap like a fleeing cat. Immediately on the other side she clamped her hands to her bottom and burst into tears again. She might have given her tears full voice, but there by the window was a very sorry looking Domino.
“You can’t be serious,” Angel gasped.
Domino just ducked her head, her face at least as red as her bottom must have been. Two canings in one day, Angel marvelled, I think I’ll pass on that.
“You okay?” Domino mumbled. It was probably the first two words she had ever spoken to Angel. It was almost worth a caning.
Then remembering herself Angel could only nod before she managed, “you?”
“He… I already got… I…” Domino looked far from the cool kid today. In fact she sounded downright childish as she added, “How many did you get for the quad?”
“Eight,” Angel said ruefully. “On the… with my…”
“Down? Yes I know.”
Kat kept her distance as she watched first Angel and then Domino come from the direction of John Bentley’s study. Both looked in a sorry state compared with how they went in; although only marginally so in Domino’s case.
She couldn’t explain it, but she needed to get close to the action; to drink it all in. Taking a deep breath she walked with determined strides towards the housemaster’s study and knocked on the door.
“Come in,” Bentley said from within. He sounded like God.
Kat crept into the room like a student and then stood staring at the great man with a stupid expression on her face.
“And what do I owe this pleasure?” Bentley said as he put another teacup on the tray. “Oh I presume…?”
“Yes… eh thanks.” Kat worked her mouth and struggled for something else to say.
“It is funny you know,” Bentley said without looking up. “You come here at least twice a day for tea, but you never do seem to have a reason.”
“I… that is you…” Kat blushed and looked at her feet. My God, she thought, is this how the girls behave when they are in here?
“Yes?” Bentley handed Kat a cup of tea.
“You just caned,” Kat cleared her throat, “Angel and… eh that new girl…”
“Domino, yes I did. What of it?”
“I was just… I mean I was never… I…” Kat put the cup down. She felt completely stupid.
“I see.” Bentley smiled and put his own cup down. “If you come here one more time without a good reason, I think I will satisfy your curiosity,” he said with a wink.
“Oh,” Kat blanched, “Oh I…” She bolted for the door.
Twenty minutes later there was a knock at Bentley’s door.
“Come in Kat,” he said easily.
After a long pause a shamefaced teacher crept and cringed into the room.
“Are you here for tea or do you actually have a good reason this time?”
“Neither I think,” Kat whispered.
Bentley drew himself up and tried to hold her gaze. Neither of them spoke until the room became so still the cries from the far off sports field could be heard. Finally Kat lifted her gaze and met his eyes.
“You know how this is done?” Bentley smiled sympathetically.
Kat shook her head a little and blushed.
“Then I will explain,” Bentley said taking up the cane.
Five minutes later a girlish squeak could be heard at the end of the passage leading to Bentley’s study, followed by a definite wail that only a sprog would make at her first caning. Except that these wails had a decidedly more mature edge to them. Three sixth formers in a day had to be some kind of record, Miranda thought as she hurried on. If Bentley was in a caning mood she would make herself very scarce. Besides Angel was finally very amenable to some very intimate TLC and she had much better things to do.
Inside Bentley’s study Kat lay folded over the back of his tatty armchair panting for England. Eight vivid red ridges stood up on her ample bare bottom and the Victoria plum staining was beginning to merge into a single bar.
“Do you usually… I mean this many?” Kat didn’t know what she was asking. A tear rolled down the crease between her nose and her cheek.
“It won’t be over until I decide it is,” Bentley said firmly.
“Yes Sir,” Kat panted.
“Seven more right where you sit,” he said evilly, and why not he thought, she had asked for it.
Helpless, Kat steeled herself. Much more than she could handle, she thought. Just as she had always thought it would be.
The next stroke drew a scream.
Kat didn’t bother to dress after the handshake and instead leaned against the mantle trying to catch her breath as Bentley poured some more tea.
“I’ll take mine standing up,” Kat smiled through her still copious tears. “It will probably be my last cup for a while,” she added as she took the cup and saucer in an unsteady hand.
“Thursday, you can take tea with me again then. Standing up of course,” Bentley said firmly.
“Thursday,” Kat gaped, “that’s three days.”
“Do you good,” Bentley said with a grin.
“Yes Sir,” Kat said reluctantly, but something thrilled inside her; her curiosity still not satisfied.
Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 02/10/2012 07:55PM by Chross.
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