Subject: Story: Earning It (schoolgirl)
From: rosewood@anon.nymserver.com
Date: 22 Jan 1999 11:46:09 -0800

Earning It

Every year I get later and later with my SSS entry. Maybe I'll just say I'm early for next year. I just got a new remailer account and I have a huge backlog of stuff to post (I've even finished off Emma!) - so I'll start with this short one. Those who know me will know my interests...

And if you're expecting a story was called "Late Again" and think I'm a schoolgirl... my apologies for typing in such a hurry :)

Oh yes, and thank you, Rosy, for the warm squeal of delight with which you greeted my test post....


"Sheís earned it!" Robert Simpson spat, his face hard, as he struggled briefly with the rusting lock of old cupboard on the staffroom wall. The young female teacher sitting on the sole dingy sofa in the room looked uncomfortable.

"But Robert, I would have never thought of sending her to you if Iíd known you would cane her."

She looked down at her hands as the headmaster withdrew a long crook handled cane from the cupboard and shut it heavily.

"Sheís always been such a lovely girl."

The headmaster turned to face the teacher, herself only six years older than Emily Yeats, the girl they were discussing, and spoke more gently. "Rosa, please donít imagine that youíre responsible for Emilyís beating. This is the seventh time in two weeks that sheís been sent to me: everything from smoking to skipping lessons.

"I agree that sheís always been a responsible, hard working girl. Thatís why she was made a prefect. Thatís why sheís always been such a good influence on the youngsters who look up to her."

He paused.

"And thatís why I consider it necessary to act decisively and forcefully."


As he crossed the courtyard, Robert revisited the scene in his study ten minutes earlier. Having told Emily she was to be caned and he led her round to the back of his desk and bent her down silently over it before lifting her skirt.

"I rarely use the cane these days," he had told her. "And when I do, I usually give three or four strokes through a pupilís underwear." As his fingers crept under the waistband of the girlís panties he had heard her sob, but continued steadily.

"However you have let down yourself, your school and me so badly that Iíve decided to give you six strokes, all on your bare bottom." Unhurriedly he had slipped her remaining protection to her thighs.

"Iím going to fetch the cane. Stay in position until I get back."


Pushing the study door open on his return, Robert made Emily wait no longer. He marched round behind her, rested the cool rattan on the girlís trembling bottom for a few seconds, lifted it high in the air, and then whipped the cane down across her naked flesh as hard as he could.

Emilyís screams could be heard easily outside in the headmasterís garden and the four boys crowded around the study window shared a moment of guilt as the sharp red line carved out by the first stroke appeared across Emilyís bare bottom.

Then they remembered the twenty five pounds each of them had paid her for the "show" and crept closer to watch the headmaster cane her again.


After the sixth stroke, Robert helped Emily to her feet, holding her hands gently in his.

"I trust you wonít be sent to me again this year," he murmured. Emily shook her head, her eyes red from crying. It had been much more painful than she had imagined, and she had been mortified when he pulled down her knickers to cane her bare bottom.

Ruefully she thought of the hundred pounds in crisp banknotes nestling in her blazer pocket.

"Iíve earned it," she thought.