Story from Sapphire 27.
by Teresa Joseph
It had been the worst act of civil disobedience in this private girl's school's one-hundred-year history. Outraged at the reintroduction of school uniform for 'A' level students, every one of the school's 60 upper-sixthform students had walked out of lessons in protest, staging a sit-in in the common room and refusing to attend classes again until the policy was scrapped.
Needless to say, when word of this 'strike' had finally reached her, the Headmistress had been absolutely furious. Alter all, whilst she might have been young and attractive, only twenty-seven years old, the school council hadn't hired her because she would be able to 'relate' to the pupils. And so as the wave of sedition spread first to the lower-sixthform and then to the rest of the school, she sought to break it by any means necessary.
At first, whenever a ringleader had marched into her office to reiterate the girls' demands, Ms Dexter had pulled the impudent bitch over her knee, spanked her bare bottom purple and men sent her back to the common room wailing like a baby. But whilst she had hoped to intimidate the strikers, this blatant coercion merely strengthened their resolve, meaning that in the end, Ms Dexter was forced to hammer out a deal with the girls, giving them the freedom to leave the grounds during school hours in exchange for accepting the uniforms.
It appeared as if the sixth formers had won. But at the end of the day of course, it had all been a manipulative ploy; a means by which to get the girls back into the classroom so that Ms Dexter could punish them for their audacity, make an example of them and ensure that no other year would ever follow their example. If the girls had thought that they could bully the Headmistress into bending to their petty demands, they would all soon realise that they were sorely, sorely mistaken.
Nevertheless, despite having to wear their new school uniforms, the upper sixthformers were all quite cheery as they filed into the main hall for their weekly assembly. But when they noticed that a dozen female teachers were stood waiting for them wielding paddles, straps and canes, the penny finally dropped.
There was a stampede back towards the double doors, but since Miss Wilcox had already locked them the girls' only option was to stand quietly and listen to Ms Dexter's ultimatum.
"I will not accept such seditious behaviour in my school!" she barked, marching back and forth before the crowd of cowering teenagers. "An example must be made, so now you have two choices. Either stay here and accept proper punishment for your actions, or file out to the school office and sign the expulsion papers that have been prepared for you."
A deathly silence fell across the room as the girls all considered their actions. None of them wanted to take a hiding, but the idea of confessing to their parents that they'd been expelled was ten times worse. And so very reluctantly, they all agreed to stay and take their medicine.
"Very good," smiled the headmistress, happy to see that she was back in charge where she belonged. "Now divide yourselves up into two equal groups and line up single file behind Mrs Dunston and Mrs Archibald with your hands behind your head, quickly and quietly if you please." Having long since accepted what was in store, the girls obeyed without incident. And so lining up like lambs to the slaughter, the girls waited for each of the teachers to fetch a chair from the side of the room, sit down, make themselves comfortable and beckon forward the first girl in line.
Of course, as the first in line, Lucy and Carol were the first ones to have the hems of their skirts tucked up into their waistbands ready to have their thighs smacked into another incarnation. But although many of the other girls were glad that it wasn't them, they both consoled themselves with the fact that their punishment would be over with first. And biting their lips as they gripped their fingers together behind their heads, they both braced themselves for the first eye-watering smack.
"What's the matter baby?" teased Mrs Dunston, patronising the whining class sissy as she reddened first her left leg, then her right. "Is it hurting you?"
Mrs Dunston may have looked like Mary Poppins, but in truth she was more sadistic than most of the other teachers combined. As far as she was concerned, there was nothing more amusing then seeing a weeping schoolgirl begging for mercy as she wriggled like a worm on a hook.
Lucy nodded; whimpering pitifully as she skipped from one foot to the other, in too much pain to stand still and to terrified to run away. And barely able to keep herself from giggling, the teacher simply had to pick up the pace.
"Do you want me finish?" she chuckled. "Well maybe we should get it over with a little more quickly then shouldn't we."
In any other circumstances, Carol would also have been laughing herself to death listening to Lucy beg for mercy. But now of course, after years of bullying the class wimp, she was far too busy fighting back her own tears to pick on the petite little blonde.
Mrs Archibald might not have been as severe as the Headmistress or as sadistic as Mrs Dunston, but she was far less subtle, and no matter how tough Carol might have thought she was, this teacher was tougher.
She tried to appear resolute, fighting in vein to look cool in front of her friends who were standing in line, but as Mrs Archibald smacked her, the poor girl couldn't help but weep and beg for mercy as the teacher darkened her deep olive skin even more.
"Turn around," she snapped, unwilling to put up with the girl's childish snivelling any longer. After all, both she and Mrs Dunston had another 29 miscreants to deal with and she didn't have time for games.
As regular as clockwork, both teachers' then began tanning the backs of each girl's thighs as tears streamed down their faces. But then without any warning, less than a minute later, the girls were both shoved down the line towards Miss White and Miss Finchley as Samantha and Janet were both called forward. Before they could even yelp, Miss White and Miss Finchley had pulled Lucy and Carol's knickers down and pulled them across their knee, ready to spank their bottoms red raw. And as they listened to their classmates yelping behind them as their thighs were beaten rosy, Carol and Lucy braced themselves for the worst.
One after the other and two by two, the girls made their way along the production line, weeping more with every stroke. If they'd thought that the smacking was painful, Carol and Lucy quickly realised just how naive they really were as the teachers tanned their rumps. Lucy yelped as much as ever as Miss Finchley spanked one cheek after the other, cupping her hand to ensure as much pain as possible on the girl's part and as little as possible on her own.
Despite being laid across the women's knees, both girls were still ordered to keep their hands on their heads. And although their position made this difficult enough to begin with, it became almost impossible to do so as the teacher's stung their cheeks.
Were they whipping them both with stinging nettles? The girls couldn't turn their heads back far enough to tell. Their checks were burning hot. With every stroke the teacher's seemed to plants a seed of pain that blossomed in a fraction of a second, covering their cheeks with pins and needles as painful as hornet stings and forcing them to shriek like scolded cats. After the twentieth stroke, neither Lucy could hold on any more. Tears were pouring down their faces like Niagara Falls, and no matter how afraid they were of the Headmistress, they simply had to fight back.
Almost on queue, the girls both began bucking like donkeys much to the disgust of both the teachers and their Headmistress. Miss White and Miss Finchley tried everything to shut the girls up from arm twisting to a full force spanking. But with a single stroke of her riding crop across their checks as she marched up to each one of them in turn, Ms Dexter quickly reasserted the teachers' authority and put Lucy and Carol back in their place.
The single lash they received was so harsh that it might as well have come from a bullwhip, and left such an agonising purple welt that from that moment on, the girls bit their tongues, crossed their ankles and took their spankings without question. But of course, there were still four steps left to go.
Hearing the lash and the leather and the howls of pain of the girls who went before them, Sam and Janet took their spankings as quietly as could be expected. But although another beating from Ms Dexter was the last thing that they wanted, Carol and Lucy could not help but howl and weep as Mrs Kelly and Mrs Lee paddled their bottoms purple. Gritting their teeth as they bent over and grabbed hold of their ankles, the girls tried their best to fight the urge to run away as the teachers' stood beside them brandishing their oval leather paddles, laying stroke after stroke full square across their bare defenceless cheeks. But each time the leather struck them, it became more and more difficult to resist.
"I'm Sorry!" howled Carol, jumping like an electrocuted kangaroo and then running for her life. "I'm Sorry! Please Stop!" But her punishment was not yet over.
"Do you want to be expelled?" demanded Ms Dexter, grabbing Carol by the wrist and bringing her to heel.
Carol shook her head violently, spattering her Headmistress with tears.
"Well then get back over there! And then when you've finished, you can just rejoin the back of the queue and go through it all again."
Whacked across the thighs with Ms Dexter's crop for a second time, Carol did what she was told without question, ensuring that she wouldn't agitate Ms Dexter any further, but also destroying any dignity that she might have had left. And touching her toes once again in front of Mrs Kelly, Carol wept and pleaded, but she didn't move an inch.
Lucy would have run long before Carol if she hadn't been so afraid. And biting their lips as Miss White and Miss Finchley spanked their bottoms red raw, Sam and Janet could hardly conceive of the paddling that was in store for them. After all, the girls were in enough pain as it was.
As one of the girls who had organised the strike in the first place, Janet had received more than a dozen spankings from Ms Dexter in her attempts to get them to follow her instructions. But with Miss White whacking each cheek in turn and setting her rosy young bottom ablaze, all of that was a distant memory, and Janet was weeping just as hard as ever. Fifty strokes later, each pair moved up to the next teacher in line. And if Lucy had been too scared to run away from the paddle, the tawse soon had her jumping halfway to the moon.
"Hold still!" snapped Mrs James, twisting the wriggling girl's arms up behind her back as she fought to keep her across her knee. Miss Simmons was also having problems keeping Carol across her knee as well. But after a while, after a dozen or more vicious strokes of infernal, split-tongued leather across their burning purple cheeks, both girls were forced to submit and take their medicine.
In fact, when the time came for them both to step forward and take the martinet, they all but ran up to Mrs Jennings and Miss Falkirk and leapt across their laps, hoping against hope that blind obedience and submission might buy them a little compassion.
As it was though, no matter how much the teachers might have taken pity on them, the martinet showed no mercy. Even the gentlest of strokes across their swollen purple cheeks was enough to sting them into tears of excruciating pain.
"Stop crying you baby!" snapped Miss Falkirk, sick to death of Carol's incessant whimpering. "Stop crying or I'll give you something to cry about!"
Carol didn't listen, but if she hadn't been crying so bitterly then she might even have laughed at the irony. It was bad enough that the teacher had used such an obvious cliché, but to suggest that she wasn't in pain already... that was just far too hilarious to bear.
Lucy meanwhile was being given more than enough to cry about. After all, Mrs Jennings might not have been very skilled, but she wasn't very subtle either. On this production line, compassion and sympathy were in short supply. None of the teacher's even seemed to acknowledge the fact that the girl that they were punishing had already received a vicious beating from each one of their colleagues before them. None of the teachers were prepared to put up with any rubbish from their students, and so when Julia took her knickers off prematurely, Mrs Archibald decided to give her a spanking as well.
"Do you need to take your knickers off to have your thighs smacked?" barked the teacher as she dragged the tearful girl down across her knee and laid the flat of her hand into her firm young checks.
"You only take them off to take a spanking don't you!"
"Yes Miss! Please Miss, I'm Sorry!"
At first, Ms Dexter hadn't been sure about this. Alter all, it held up the line and delayed the punishment of a number of girls who were far more deserving. But watching Julia howl and struggle as Mrs Archibald did what she did best, the Headmistress soon came around.
After five dozen strokes of the martinet, Carol and Lucy's flaming bottoms were absolutely covered with flaming purple welts; a reminder of the bitter, eye-watering kisses that each stroke had left behind as the sharp leather bit into their cheeks. But now with only Miss Kennedy and Mrs Williams and their 3' bamboo canes standing between them and the end of their torment, they both knew that soon they would have much more than that.
Rubbing their bottoms as hard as they could without increasing the pain and with tears still streaming down their red and swollen faces, the girls reluctantly edged forward towards the impatient teachers, dreading what was to come. At long last, with Janet and Samantha already howling with agony as the martinets inscribed their signatures across their swollen purple rumps, Lucy and Carol finally bent over to touch their toes, clenched their teeth and shut their eyes as tightly as possible, hesitantly awaiting the first brutal stroke.
In the fraction of the second that it took for Miss Kennedy to lay the cane down full square across her helpless cheeks, Carol heard it as it cut through the air behind her and instinctively tried to pull away. But by then it was too late. And with a deafening crack, eight inches of bamboo cut deep into her derriere and sent her running from one end of the hall to the other and howling like a wounded wolf.
She didn't get far too however before Ms Dexter grabbed hold of the girl and dragged her back to Miss Kennedy to take her last five strokes. Time was of the essence. There were 58 other girls to punish and they couldn't waste time chasing after them after every stroke. Efficiency was everything, and so bending Carol over, twisting her arms up behind her back and holding her head down between her legs, Ms Dexter held the squealing, struggling girl in place as Miss Kennedy administered another two dozen brutal strokes; stopping just short of scarring her for life, but only just.
After that of course, it was all over; at least that is until the rest of the girls had received their medicine. And so ordering the wailing girl back to the end of the line, Ms Dexter grabbed hold of Lucy, and placing the girl in the same debilitating double arm lock, held her fast as Mrs Williams' cane went to work on her rump. When it was all finally over, Lucy's bottom truly felt as if it had been covered with stinging nettles and set ablaze. The poor girl was utterly inconsolable, and so whilst Ms Dexter tried three times to order her into the corner, in the end the Headmistress had to whip the girl over to the corner like a disobedient mare and put her hands up on her head herself.
"Keep it going!" she commanded, marching up and down the line of teachers, ensuring that everything ran smoothly. "Anyone who holds up the line gets a cropping from me and a double helping from my colleagues!" And seeing how distraught both Carol and Lucy were after just one ride of the merry-go-round, every girl in line decided there and then to do exactly as they were told.
"It's okay Carol," soothed Helen, hugging her best friend better as they both waited together at the back of the line. "Don't worry. It's all over now."
"No, its not," she wept, crying on the young blonde's shoulder. "It's never over."
Janet and Samantha both took their canings as well as could be expected under the circumstances. And so even though Ms Dexter had to force both girls over to the corner beside Lucy and all three of them continued to howl like wounded banshees, the line moved on without a hitch.
"Are you going to keep your hands on your head darling?" asked Mrs Dunston as she hitched up Kia's skirt and gently smacked each thighs in turn. But the tall, slim redhead never even said a word. Instead she just stood there, wincing with pain as the smacking grew more and more forceful, the tears welled up in her eyes and her tender white thighs were turned an ever deeper shade of red.
At that moment however, Ms Dunston noticed Carol and Helen hugging at the back of the line and practically blew her top.
"I told you to keep your hands on your heads!" she barked, storming up to the girls, grabbing them both by the hair and dragging them out of the line. "Do I have to spell it out for you?"
With that Carol squealed and kicked with agony as the Head' beat her sore and tender thighs with her sharp leather crop.
"What's the matter? Didn't we punish you enough?"
The pain was unbearable, but with Ms Dunston pulling at her hair the poor girl couldn't help but try to break free, much to the Head teacher's satisfaction.
"There you are!" she mocked delightedly. "See how easy it is? Now just keep your hands up there and take it like a woman!"
Doing as she was told, Carol did her best to stay still as Ms Dexter cropped every inch of her thighs, beating them until they were covered with angry purple welts. But in spite of her best efforts, the girl soon began dancing on the spot like a member of "River Dance," twisting and turning this way and that, ensuring that Ms Dexter was able to crop her front and back.
Helen meanwhile didn't even dare to move. After all, Ms Dexter was mad enough as it was, and she didn't want to risk the possibility that scratching her nose might anger her even further.
Having already cried until her tears stained her blouse, Carol was weeping as hard as ever when Ms Dexter finally sent her to the front of the line, ensuring that her second helping would come as soon as possible. And then as Mrs Archibald stung the poor girl's swollen thighs even further, Ms Dexter turned her attention to Helen and gave the girl her first taste of discipline.
"Stop squirming girl!" snapped Mrs Archibald, tired of Carol's relentless struggling. But with her thighs ablaze, the slightest touch would have been enough to make the girl yelp with pain. And as it was, Mrs Archibald was striking the girl with a great deal more ferocity.
Helen too was now howling with pain as the Headmistress beat her thighs. And with every other girl who had been punished howling just as loudly, it was becoming increasingly difficult for the teachers to be heard. But thanks to the efficiency of Ms Dexter's plan, there was little need for spoken commands.
And so it went on, with every girl in the upper-sixthform receiving their just punishment from all six teachers in line, as well as severe cropping from the Headmistress if they even tried to resist. Sometimes they took it obediently and sometimes they had to be restrained. But in the end each and every on of them submitted to their Headmistress' authority.
It took all afternoon, but by four o'clock all sixty of them were stood weeping in the corner with their hands on their heads and the stripy purple thighs and bottoms on display for all to see.
"That's better," smiled Ms Dexter, proud of her accomplishment and happy to see that their rebellious nature had been broken once and for all.
"Now then girls, the school buses will be leaving in about five minutes. So the question is, have you learned your lesson or shall we punish you again before letting you walk home?"
"No Miss," they all whimpered in perfect harmony. "Please, we've learned our lesson. We're sorry that we challenged your authority. Please let us go home."
"Okay then girls," she said with an almost sincere air of forgiveness. "Put your knickers back on and run to the bus stop. And don't forget to tell your friends what happens to you if you step out of place."
Gathering together in the corner of the Hall, the teachers then watched, barely able to keep themselves from laughing as they watched the girls wince with pain, carefully slipping on their knickers and then running out into the corridor as fast as they could.
"Do you have any idea how course and rough the upholstery is on the seats on the school buses?" asked Mrs Kelly, not sure whether to smile or wince at the idea of the girls having to sit on them the whole journey home.
"Oh yes," declared the Headmistress. "Why do you think I let them off so lightly?"