A Letter For Nicola

Story from Uniform Girls 01.

A Letter For Nicola

Half term, and most of the boarders gone home to ride ponies and go to discos and generally to forget all about school for a whole week. Almost all of the girls, only three or four still in their dormitory rooms of an evening, those whose parents didn't want their daughter's home to complicate their social arrangements. Like, Nicola's —

Nicola waits miserably in the headmaster's private sitting room — the headmaster too is away, and the deputy head, Mr Russell, sees no reason why he shouldn't make use of it's comfortable seclusion on these occasions, 'these occasions' being those when a girl needs to be 'disciplined'. Nicola is supposed to be 'ready' when Mr Russell comes back from the village — gone to buy more smelly tobacco for his pipe, most probably — but she knows she'll hear his car pull up and there'll still be plenty of time to kneel up and-and-and get her knickers down. The thought of having to do so makes her tummy feel funny; she sits and stares at her hands and thinks about how she got trapped into her first bare-bummed spanking, a term and a half ago, before he'd persuaded her mother — who hadn't needed much persuasion, as it turned out — to send her to school as a boarder even though her home was only three and a half miles away...

* * * *

The envelope with Nicola's name on it was lying on the hall carpet where her younger sister found it at breakfast time. An innocent-looking bombshell as it turned out for when Nicola glanced at its contents her stomach gave a lurch and she felt her throat go dry. She hastily folded the note and shoved it back in the envelope, fearful that her mother or Julie might see. A gulped mouthful of cornflakes almost choked her.

'Anything interesting, dear?' asked her mother across the breakfast table.

'No... nothing.' With difficulty Nicola kept her voice more or less on an even keel. Picturing again the words which had leapt at her from the paper she broke out into a cold sweat.

Up in the privacy of her room she forced herself to have another look, this time reading it properly.

Dear Nicola,

It is my unhappy duty to take you to task on a disciplinary matter. On the evening of Tuesday last you were observed in the town in school uniform accompanied by a youth and behaving in a highly undignified and unsatisfactory manner. You were, for one thing, eating chips out of a newspaper in a public street. Your conduct on this occasion broke several disciplinary rules, as you will know. It is my duty therefore to see that you are given a suitable punishment.

Accordingly you will report to the Deputy Head tomorrow after school, taking this note with you. You will wear gym attire and you will wear no knickers under your gym shorts. I am instructing Mr Russell, that you are to be given a sound spanking. To ensure that you do not take this matter lightly I am further instructing Mr Russell that you are to have your shorts lowered and take the spanking on the bare bottom.

The note bore the school crest and was signed by the Head. It was dated 31st of March which was yesterday.

Re-reading it Nicola felt sick. It was impossible. She was 17 and a very grown-up looking 17 at that. Surely a 17-year old girl couldn't be spanked nowadays. Especially on her bare bottom! She had never heard of it happening to anyone, not ever. Although of course it did say in the school prospectus something about corporal punishment could be used in extreme circumstances. Could it possibly be that it did happen but the girls it happened to simply kept quiet about it? Obviously you wouldn't want to broadcast the fact. Shuddering, Nicola was quite sure she herself wouldn't.

She looked at the note again — to convince herself that she hadn't dreamt it. No, it was real all right. She shivered, imagining the unthinkable. Mr Russell's hand smacking down on her bare bottom.

With a sort of empty sensation in her stomach Nicola went to the bathroom to brush her teeth and do her hair. She was 5' 6" and well-built, a pretty blue-eyed blonde, but the pretty face in the mirror did not have its usual cheerful appearance. It was 8.30. In just over 7 hours she would be in Mr Russell's room. I feel sick, she thought, but fortunately the feeling passed. It was time to leave.

'Home at the usual time, dear?' It was her mother's routine query and routinely Nicola said yes. Today she said, 'I... I'm not sure, Mum. There... there may be something on.'

She slipped on the green school blazer. Green blazer, blue calf-length pleated skirt, green-and-blue tie. It was what she had on on Tuesday evening because she'd been working late in the library. And then someone had seen her with Brian Parker and those bloody fish and chips. Nicola thought for a moment. Her gym things? Then she remembered they were at school. She felt sick again.

* * * *

3.40 standing outside Mr Russell's door Nicola was naturally feeling even sicker. The dreadful moment of truth had arrived. She had gone through the day in a dream with just that one sick-making thought obliterating everything else. Being over Mr Russell's lap (presumably) with her gym shorts down and her, as she thought, rather big bottom on display. Nicola had naturally said nothing to anyone about her coming humiliating ordeal, and had tried to act as if everything was normal. It had not been easy. She had actually had Mr Russell for one lesson and had not been able to look him in the eye. But the Deputy Head had acted quite normally and had himself given no sign...

Nicola forced herself to knock and his voice said 'Come in'. He looked up from his desk, queryingly. Mr Russell was not old, perhaps 45, quite tall. He had blue eyes, some girls thought he was very dishy. Some girls might even welcome the situation Nicola was in. Her knees felt as if they were made of rubber.

'Yes, Nicola?'

She closed the door and shuffled forward, face bright red. Nicola had her raincoat on but underneath was dressed as the note had directed. Her white sleeveless gym top and tight blue gym shorts plus white ankle socks and gym shoes. She was wearing a bra but her knickers were back in the changing room with her other clothes.

The shorts anyway were very snug fitting. Nicola had had them since the Fifth form and now really needed a size bigger for she had filled out a bit since then. Her big bottom as she thought of it. Her mother told her not to be silly, it wasn't big just nice and anyway she would find that most men liked a good-sized bottom on a girl. At 17 Nicola wasn't really interested in that yet, although she realised that the male sex was interested, in her bottom and in her firm full breasts. Right now, though, there was only one male she had to be concerned about.

Mr Russell repeated his querying 'Yes, Nicola?' as if he didn't know why she had come. Numbly she thrust out the letter. He took a long time reading it through, almost as if it was all news to him. Finally he looked up. His face was perhaps slightly pink, though nothing compared to the rosy flush on Nicola's cheeks.

'Yes Nicola. Of course. Must behave properly in public, mustn't we? Take your coat off then.'

It was happening. Somehow Nicola had had a vague idea that he might say the letter was to teach her a lesson, scare her so that she wouldn't do it again, and then give some more acceptable punishment. Detention or something. Her fingers were all thumbs as she fumbled with the raincoat's buttons.

'Put it on the chair.' Mr Russell had got up and went over to the door. Nicola heard the lock click. He came back and sat down on a chair at the side, not behind his desk. 'Come here then.'

She stood trembling in front of him, somehow feeling naked in her gym clothes. Mr Russell simply said, 'OK, drop your shorts.'

Nicola gulped. For a moment the room went round and round. 'PI...please Sir,' said a small whisper.

'You read the note, Nicola.' Mr Russell's voice was crisp and authoritative. 'You saw the Head's instructions. So please take down your shorts.'

Somehow her hands did it. Struggled the tight shorts down off her full flanks. 'Right down,' Mr Russell ordered. They came right down. Automatically one of Nicola's hands came across to cover her light brown bush. Mr Russell took hold of her arm and the next thing Nicola knew she was over his lap.

'Uuuggghhh!' A moaning gasp at the first electric touch of his hand on her bare bottom. Nicola thought she was going to faint. He wasn't spanking, not yet, just getting her in position on his lap. One hand now holding her firmly in the small of her back, where her tank-top ended. There was a pause. And then the spanking did start.

All those stomach-churning fears of what it would be like proved amply justified. It was quite as bad as Nicola had imagined, if not worse. It hurt for one thing, that hard splat!... splat!... splat!... rhythmically cracking down onto her bottom; but worse was the truly mortifying embarrassment. To be lying there like that with her bare rear on display and Mr Russell's male hand in repeated contact with it. Her soft bottom cheeks flattening and wobbling with each repeated impact. No, that had to be experienced for the full horror to be believed.

Mr Russell kept it up for some considerable time, until Nicola could feel her bum absolutely glowing all over. At last he did stop and she was being helped to her feet. 'Pull them up,' he said. Nicola couldn't see properly. She wasn't actually crying but her bottom lip was trembling and there was an awful lot of moisture in her eyes.

'Blow your nose if you need to,' Mr Russell said.

Nicola had now got her shorts back up and was at least over the worst of the shock. Sire couldn't bear to look him in the eye, though.

'Well that's that,' Mr Russell observed. 'I'm sure it'll teach you a useful lesson because we certainly don't like our girls wandering about the streets eating fish and chips. By the way, are you familiar with the Head's signature?'

Blinking, Nicola looked at him and then away. 'Yes... yes sir. I think so.'

'Oh. Because the signature in your letter is quite a good copy but not what I would call a first-class one.'

Mr Russell's words took some time to sink it. Nicola was after all still in something of a state of shock.

'Wha...what, sir?'

'The signature, Nicola. A forgery. And you know today's date of course. The first of April.'

The penny finally dropped. Nicola's mouth opened and closed again without any words coming out. There was really nothing to say and if there had been Nicola was in no state to say it. She weakly dabbed at her face as two tears rolled down her cheeks.

'Don't take it too hard,' smiled Mr Russell. 'Someone's had their little joke. One of your schoolmates I suppose.'

She felt utterly utterly sick. At being so stupidly taken in and also at the fact that Mr Russell had gone ahead and spanked her even though he knew it was an April Fool's joke.

'I'm sorry but I couldn't resist it,' Mr Russell said in answer to Nicola's unspoken question. 'It was just too good an opportunity to miss. And after all you were in breach of the rules, weren't you! I think the best thing now is to forget all about it. I shan't tell and I don't suppose you will. Your unknown prankster will assume that nothing happened. By the way, any idea who it was?'

Nicola shook her head mournfully, doing her her best to stem the tears. Mr Russell put his arm round her.

'Cheer up. Just a little April Fool's fun. We'll forget about it and no one will be any the wiser. Off you go then.'

He gave Nicola a playful smack on her bottom — an unwelcome reminder of what had to be the worst 15 minutes of Nicola's life.

* * * *

When she got over the worst of the shock and humiliation Nicola's first thought was to think who could have played such a trick. For several days she went about surreptitiously watching for any word or sign that might give a clue but really there wasn't any. Once or twice she thought she had detected some suspicious action but on reflection Nicola had to admit it didn't amount to anything. She knew the best thing would be to forget all about it, as Mr Russell had advised, but she couldn't. And the main reason she couldn't forget was to be Mr Russell himself.

Two weeks after April Fool's Day he called Nicola into his office again after school with some complaint about an essay. He felt she hadn't been trying very hard, he said. He gave a funny little smile.

'But we know what we can do to smarten you up, don't we, young lady?'

Nicola flushed knowing full well what he meant. It wasn't a very good joke as far as she was concerned. She shifted uncomfortably on her feet, recalling all too vividly that horrendous afternoon. As she stood uncertainly at his desk Mr Russell got up and went over to the door. Nicola heard a distinct click of the lock. Like that sick-making afternoon two weeks before.

'Come on then,' he said, his voice a bit tense.

Nicola just looked at him as Mr Russell went to sit in that self-same chair at the side.

'Come on,' he repeated. 'Drop your knickers, Nicola dear.'

'No!' she gasped.

'Yes, Nicola. I'm going to spank your bottom again. And I don't think you're going to complain to anyone because I'm sure you wouldn't want that 'April Fool's joke' that you fell for spread about the school. Now would you?'

'That's blackmail,' Nicola whispered.

Mr Russell smiled. 'I wouldn't call it that. Let's simply say a Deputy Head using whatever disciplinary means are at his disposal. Now are you going to slip your knickers down yourself or shall I do it for you? I should quite enjoy doing it.' He smiled again, a cat with the cream. 'You can take your blazer off first.'

Nicola couldn't believe it. It was blackmail but what could she do? She slipped off her blazer and put it on his desk. She was in school uniform of course, not the gym outfit. Blouse and tie and skirt. Not looking at him her hands went up under the pleated skirt and fumbled underneath.

'Are they down?'

She nodded, tight-lipped.

'Good'. Mr Russell took her arm and pulled Nicola forward, then down. She was over his lap again, and again with that awful feeling of wanting to be sick. She felt her skirt being pulled up, over her back. Her knickers were brief pink nylon. Mr Russell was pulling them further down, to Nicola's knees. His hand on her bottom again. Openly fondling a bit this time. And then spanking. Hard juddering spanks, each one making a sharp pistol-like crack. It seemed to go on and on while Nicola just lay there, not struggling, simply soaking up the sharp pain and the humiliation.

Afterwards, as she struggled her knickers back up, Mr Russell was friendly, perhaps even slightly anxious. Perhaps he was just a little bit afraid Nicola might tell and then he could be in trouble. Because although the school prospectus did mention corporal punishment in general terms it certainly said nothing about spanking girls on their bare bottoms. But Nicola wasn't going to tell — not if it meant the whole humiliating story coming out.

'It doesn't hurt, does it?' he queried sympathetically. 'And I'm sure we're still friends, aren't we, Nicola?'

Nicola didn't answer. It seemed stupid to say either yes or not. But she could guess that as soon as Mr Russell got another excuse she would be back in here taking her knickers down again.

He gave her a charming smile. 'By the way, any ideas yet on who sent that letter?'

Nicola shook her head.

Mr Russell shook his too. 'Someone out there,' he mused. 'But at least if you say nothing their joke's fallen rather flat, hasn't it?'

Say nothing and let him keep smacking my bum, Nicola thought unhappily. But she was caught in the predicament of not having any choice.

* * * *

Graham Russell, after Nicola had left, sat at his desk pleasantly reliving the heady episode. She certainly had a marvellous bottom. And big girls really should be given more of that treatment. It was very good for them and it was most unfortunate that society nowadays had rather gone off that sort of thing. Next time, he thought, he might even take the strap to her. That would be really something. Spanking, though, did afford the wonderful intimacy of hand on bare bottom.

Taking up his pen he started idly doodling. The Headmaster's signature. He had told Nicola it wasn't perfect but really it was a very good copy. It had all gone quite marvellously; no problems and quite foolproof. He'd have to try it on another one next year, another little April Fool's trick. Perhaps June Billington, with the big boobs. He rather fancied her as well.

But until then there was Nicola Wilson. Pretty Nicola who had quite big boobs anyway plus a really lovely bottom. Nicola who was clearly going to be nice and cooperative. Next week, he thought. There's bound to be something wrong with her work again next week.