Subject: STORY: A Model Pupil by Rosewood (corrected)
From: rosewood@anon.nymserver.com
Date: 22 Jan 1999 16:03:56 -0800

A Model Pupil

Oops! I suppose I should have read it again through before I sent it. I just sat down to scroll through it one last time and found that the poor girl's name keeps changing. Can't imagine how I failed to notice it before.

Anyway, just in case anyone was getting confused, in this version we get Juliette's story - and no mention of that Kate girl....

A Model Pupil

"Juliette Morgan! I have spoken to you once already about doodling while I am speaking. You will have a five minute detention!"

Juliette looked up sharply, taken by surprise by the stern voice interrupting her daydreams. She was aware of her classmates' faces turning towards her and then at each other.

"I was listening, Miss," she began to protest. "I...."

But the teacher cut her off in mid-sentence.

"You will NOT argue with me, young lady," she stated forcefully. "I shall make that a ten minute detention."

"But Miss...."

"JULIETTE!" Ms Freedman barked. "How dare you continue this nonsense. If you were listening so carefully, perhaps you would tell us all how it was that Macbeth was killed despite the witches' prophecy?"

Juliette looked blankly back at the teacher. The only vaguely familiar part of the question was "Macbeth" - and that was only because it was on the front cover of the book in front of her.

"Listening, indeed," the teacher muttered to herself. "I can see that we have not found ourselves a model pupil in our new girl." Juliette felt herself blushing angrily at the sarcasm. The headmistress of her last school had used precisely the same phrase only the previous week in the meeting at which she had "suggested" to Juliette's parents that another school might suit her better. "She certainly has the potential to be a model pupil," the woman had told Mr and Mrs Morgan. "But I'm afraid that her lack of discipline has led me to feel that we are not able to cater for your daughter as we would wish."

The word "expelled" did not appear on her school record. Yet the unspoken word had hung in the air as the family discussed what action to take next.

Juliette's parents had made the final decision. She would go to a private day school called Danford Grove which had a reputation for strictness.

"You will not get away," the headmaster had told her at interview, "with the kind of indiscipline you exhibited at your last school."

The words echoed in her mind as she stared at her new English teacher.

"It's ridiculous anyway," she spat. "My last school didn't punish you just for being quiet."

"And neither do we here," her opponent replied, levelly but without giving any ground. "And your punishment is now a twenty minute detention."


"A twenty-five minute detention."

Juliette realised that the room had become utterly silent except for the brisk dialogue between the teacher and herself and that the other girls were now staring at her in amazement. She also knew that there could only ever be one winner in this bout. All the same, she couldn't resist a final swipe.

"I can't stay for detention anyway," she said. "My dad's taking me out."

The teacher looked at the new girl with a steady gaze. She couldn't help just slightly admiring her proud defiance. Yet she knew too that young Juliette would have to broken if she were to stand a chance at her new school.

"Your father will be informed of your THIRTY minute detention," she informed Juliette to audible gasps from the other girls. "And he is fully aware that he will have to wait until it is over before collecting you. If that causes problems it is a matter for you and him."

She turned her back on the girl and strode to the blackboard before turning to deliver the fatal blow.

"Now you will be quiet, young lady or I will send you to the headmaster to spend the rest of the lesson in his office."

The threat had the desired effect. Getting sent to the head on your first day at a new school, especially when you've just been kicked out of the last one, seemed like a bad idea. She sneered at her next-door neighbour who was gaping at her as if she were a ghost. Shitty uniform. Shitty teachers. Shitty kids. At least she'd got rid of that bossy cow who had been "assigned to induct her into the ways of the school". Maybe she'd be best getting thrown our of this one too!

* * *

"Right girls, that's the bell. Katy, Belinda and Juliette, come and collect your detention slips. The rest of you, off you go." Amid the clamour of twenty two fifteen year old girls packing their books into bags which were all clearly either too big or too small, the three miscreants made their way to the desk.

"Belinda and Katy, five minutes each," she said, handing the two girls a blue slip of paper.

She looked at Juliette over her glasses.

"Juliette. I hope this will be the very last one of these I have to give you. Thirty minutes."

Juliette took the red slip from the teacher and looked at it. The words "Detention: 30 mins" were clearly printed on it and would clearly not be susceptible to alteration. She would just have to wait half an hour before getting down to some serious television watching.

"Very well. Make sure you all have some homework to do. Girls, please show Juliette the way to the detention room. And no talking at all on the way!"

Her two companions seemed intent on following Ms Freedman's instructions and met Juliette's attempts to engage them in conversation with pursed lips and shaking heads. Besides, there was little time as they quickly reached another classroom and slipped in, each silently taking one of the empty desks.

Juliette sat away from the other two and looked around. Within two or three minutes about a dozen girls had come in and sat down. No one had spoken.

Juliette picked up her bag and pulled out her maths homework. Some punishment, she thought as she began to work: we just do our homework here instead of at home.

She was startled then by a sudden scraping of chairs as the girls stood up in unison. Juliette copied them to see the headmaster, Mr Barnes, enter the room. So, she had been sent to the headmaster anyway!

"Sit down, girls," he said, looking at his watch. "We're starting at three thirty four. Please get on with your work."

The only sound after that was the silent scribbling of her fellow detainees. Juliette was amazed at how distressed some of them looked. She guessed that Mr Barnes could be quite fierce and decided to get some maths done. Her studies were fairly soon brought to and end though.

"OK girls, that's five minutes up. Most of you know the drill. I'd like a line at my desk please."

Juliette followed the other girls up to the front of the room, bemused but silent. The younger girl in front of her looked ready to burst into tears.

"Looks as if you're first, Mandy," the head said to the tall blonde girl who had ended up at the front of the queue. "Let's begin shall we?"

To Juliette's horror, the girl responded by nodding to the teacher and then walking to the big oak desk and bending over it. Juliette suddenly felt an empty, slightly sick sensation in her stomach as she tried to repel the only explanations for Mandy's new posture her mind could suggest. Yet Mr Folds quickly confirmed the truth of her anxiety when he picked up an old gym shoe from his desk and walked up behind the waiting girl.

And then it got worse. Aware suddenly of her forced breathing, Juliette watched the headmaster reach out and lift the girl's skirt, meeting no resistance, up and onto her back to expose her young bottom, protected now by nothing more than her white cotton panties. Juliette's hand moved quickly to her mouth to stifle a gasp and she dragged her eyes away from Mandy to examine the faces of the other detainees.

She saw the same signs of fear, self-pity and even contrition in their eyes that she had failed to interpret before, but not surprise. Every other girl there had known before she arrived what was coming. Only Juliette was finding out at the front line.

"Oww!" There was a crack of sound and a screech of pain and Juliette's eyes were pulled quickly back to desk where Mandy was gripping tightly onto the far edge of the desk now, waiting for the next blow. This time Juliette saw it all: the long high swing, the speed of the teacher's arm through the air, the tensing bend of the gym shoe in its flight, the way the girl jumped under the force of the blow, and the redness that spread quickly across the visible parts of her cheeks.

She wanted to cry out, to run out of the room and home. But it suddenly dawned on her that her parents must know about this. They had chosen to send her to this backward school where girls - nearly adult women - could have their bottoms smacked by a man just because he wore a long black gown. And she had no real choice but to accept their choice - that or fail them yet again.

She steeled herself. The first two girls had been dealt with and returned to their seats. Juliette would be next after the youngster whose emerging tears she had spotted earlier. She counted this time: one, two, three, four. Not so bad, she thought.


Summoned like an actor at an audition, Juliette stepped up to take the place of her predecessor who was crying more freely now as she returned to her seat. Do it properly, she told herself. Never give in.

With all the dignity she could muster, Juliette faced the desk and leant over it, pressing her right cheek to the cold, old hardwood. She gritted her teeth as the unseen hands picked up the hem of her skirt and raised it to prepare the target.


Painful - but not as bad as it might have been, Juliette told herself, pressing her lips together to stifle any sound.


Half way already, she thought. The sting was starting to spread a little now, that second blow had hurt more than...


Definitely harder, Juliette gauged, determined more with each stroke to prevent herself from crying out. Just one more....


After grimacing at the initial pain of the blow, Juliette even allowed herself a smile. Could have been much worse, she thought as her skirt was replaced.

"Right, sit down and get on with your work," the headmaster told her before barking for the next girl.

Not as easy to do as to say, Juliette replied silently, feeling the tenderness in her bottom grow a little in intensity as she sat upon it. And, despite her feeling that she had won that particular battle, what future campaigns might lay ahead?

When each girl had been spanked and sent back to her seat, the headmaster sat back at his desk and spoke to them.

"Right. Those of you with five minute slips, bring them to me to be signed. The rest of you, carry on."

Juliette watched jealously as her two classmates got up and presented their blue slips for his pen, though she was grateful for the real smile of empathy that Belinda shot her before leaving the room. There were only seven of them left after that.

* * *

"Ten minutes. Let's continue shall we?"

Juliette got to her feet quickly this time, wanting to get it over with rather than having to stand in line and wait. She had worked out that four whacks every five minutes meant twenty four for her and she was anxious to get them out of the way as quickly as she could.

However, even as she arrived at the desk, the headmaster was bringing his chair round to the open space in front of it.

Looking at her, Mr Barnes almost smiled.

"Your the new girl, aren't you?" he asked, not unpleasantly.

"Yes, Sir," she replied, trying to appear all sweetness and light. "Juliette."

"I have to say that it is extremely rare to find new girls landing themselves in detention on their first day," he told her. "Most girls do their very best to stay away once they've found out what it involves."

Spotting an opening, Juliette managed to bring a tear to her eye as she whimpered, "But I didn't know...." and then broke off in apparent distress.

"Were you not assigned a guide this morning?"

"Yes, but..."

"And who was that?" the head continued insistently, picking up a note book and pencil. "I think she might find herself here tomorrow."

Don't even try, Juliette told herself. You might get away now, but you'll be back - and with a worse reputation than ever.

"It... it's not her fault," she said honestly, her tears drying up now that she realised her hopes too were evaporating. "I told her I didn't want her to show me around - that I wanted to find out about the school for myself". Though in not exactly those words, she recalled privately.

"Well, you're certainly doing that, aren't you?"

Juliette nodded.

"You accept, therefore, that it is entirely your own fault that you have ended up here without knowing quite what was to happen to you?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Well in that case," he said, taking the girl's left hand and sitting down on the chair, "and knowing that Ms Freedman would not send you to me unless she felt you deserved the punishment prescribed, I will have you over my knee."

With that, Juliette found herself being pulled down over the teacher's lap. She had mentally prepared herself for another slippering, but this was so... childish. She felt tears pricking at her eyes for real now, set off by the raising of her skirt for the second time that afternoon.

"I hope that this experience will convince you to pay proper attention to your teachers from now on, young lady," he said.

"I have found in my many years as headmaster here that for many girls, a sound spanking on their bare bottom is just what is needed to persuade them to take school as seriously as is necessary."

Juliette knew she hadn't misheard. Yet only when the teacher's fingers eased under the waistband of her panties and began to slip them down and bare her behind did she fully take in what he had just said. He was going to spank her bare bottom!

He left no time for protest. As soon as he had fully exposed the girl's young cheeks, he lifted his hand high in the air and brought it down sharply twice, once on each side.

This time Juliette did cry out, perhaps more in embarrassment than in pain as the spanking began.

She kicked and yelped as each hard slap was expertly delivered, seeing her tears splash onto the floorboards only inches from her nose, any idea of dignity long forgotten.

The headteacher was well satisfied with the reaction. Like Ms Freedman, he believed in dealing with out-of-line newcomers swiftly and vigorously. It was true that few new girls ended up over his knee on their first day at the school, but most had had their knickers pulled down before the first half term was done. Out of those, a large number would never return to the detention room, a few would become regulars (he noted the presence of a few in the line behind Juliette) and the rest would need a reminder every now and then that rules were there to be adhered to. For most, the initial "five minute" slippering was sufficient. For some, the pain an humiliation of a bare bottom spanking from the head was just the thing to put them back on the straight and narrow.

Eight, nine, ten! he counted in his head, making the last two just a little harder than the rest and reaping the reward of two loud cries of anguish from the now limp girl dangled immodestly over his lap.

For a moment he wondered which group the new girl would fall into, before reminding himself that there were six more bottoms to warm.

Gently, he pulled Juliette's knickers back up and helped her to her feet.

"Back to your desk now," he said, before taking the next girl over his knee and beginning the cycle again.

Still crying, Juliette made her way back to her work, trying to ignore the cries of the girl who had followed her over the teacher's lap.

Thirty minutes! The words echoed round her head. What else would she have to endure before finally getting home?

* * *

Three of the seven remaining girls were dismissed with their ten minute slips signed, leaving just four to endure the few minutes wait before the next milestone.

This time, the girls were not called straight to the queue.

"Right, ladies," Mr Barnes said once he had determined that fifteen minutes had elapsed, "each of you slip off your skirt and find a peg on this wall to hang it on please. Then I'll have you in line."

Juliette guessed correctly, by the way that the other girls carried out each instruction neither hesitation not surprise, that the routine was the same on every occasion.

Meekly she followed the other three girls over to the pegs Mr Barnes had indicated and reluctantly stepped out of the hated skirt (to which she had suddenly become significantly more attached). As the teacher had already seen (had already spanked!) her bare bottom, Juliette knew it was silly to feel embarrassed at him seeing her in her panties, but she did all the same.

This time her slowness had relegated her to the end of the line and she would therefore have to endure seeing the next punishment delivered three times over before it was her turn.

"OK girls, we're back to the slipper again. This time, you each get twelve whacks on the bare bottom.

"It looks as if you're first again, Mandy. Over the desk please."

Juliette wanted to look away, but somehow she found her eyes drawn to the headmaster's desk and the pretty girl now bending down over it.

By coincidence the teacher's feelings, as he pulled Mandy's panties down to her thighs, were not dissimilar. Most of the girls who ended up in detention were from years seven to ten. Most had learned by the sixth form that it was best to avoid this particular tradition of the school - or had left to get a job or move on to an establishment with a less disciplinarian approach.

Still there remained one or two like Mandy, seventeen years old and already very beautiful, who came back again and again. Mr Barnes had considered the possibility that they might even get into trouble on purpose - but decided that there was nothing he could do if that were true. If they did want to be spanked then, uncomfortable as it made him feel, he would have to continue to oblige them.

He picked up the slipper and looked down at the offering before him. The younger girls did not arouse him at all, but Mandy and those like her were young women. The sight of the girl's trim bottom, reddened by her earlier spanking and framed neatly in white by blouse and panties affected him more than he wished to admit - even to himself. And, as always, he sought to dispel his libido by giving her spanking the maximum force he could manage.

Juliette found, to her shock, that she had started crying again. She knew that she had a stark choice: continue to behave the way she had at her last school and become regular visitor to this horrible room, or improve her behaviour. She had heard more injunctions to change than she could count, but none had carried the force of this unspoken one.

Too soon the three other girls had been dispatched and it was Juliette's turn. Meekly she took up the prescribed position, remembering, as the teacher eased her knickers down, how awful it had seemed only ten minutes ago to have her skirt raised for four whacks. Now she was going to get twelve, with her skirt gone and her knickers round her knees.

As she did the last time, Juliette cried and yelled throughout her beating. Each time the gym shoe cracked down upon her defenceless bottom, she shrieked loudly, pleading for the spanking to stop - and knowing it would not.

She was aware, even as the spanking progressed, that the loss of her knickers and the extra whacks could not really account for the difference in her reaction to the two slipperings. Yet that was purely the protesting of her reason. Her bottom and her shame defied the logic - this punishment was much, much worse than the first.

* * *

Mandy was allowed to go after this second round of slipperings had been completed. (That was another thing which raised suspicions in Mr Barnes' mind about some of the girls' motivation - almost invariably Mandy and the other older girls he had to deal with came with ten minute detentions - a bare bottom, over the knee spanking and they were away. Mandy had only ended up with fifteen minutes, and therefore a second slippering, because she was caught running in the corridor - to detention! Perhaps he should modify the ten minute punishment for sixth-formers?)

At twenty minutes he told the three still left to stand in front of their desks, pull their panties to their knees, and stand with their arms by their sides. He noticed Juliette flush bright red at that command, precisely the result he had designed the instruction to achieve.

Slowly, Juliette tugged her knickers down before standing as ordered with her hands by her side, aware of her burning face and an uncomfortable warmth between her thighs too. She had never shown her pussy to any boy - yet here she was displaying her most secret parts to her new headmaster.

And then she saw the strap. All other thoughts fled from her mind at the sight of it - broad, dark brown and heavy looking, it hung between the teacher's hands rather like a hammock.

"Kaitlin," he said sternly to one of the girls. "I'm surprised you can't still feel the strapping I gave you last week."

The girl wilted visibly under his gaze.

"I... I still can," she confessed.

"So why are you back here again?"

"I... I don't know, Sir."

"Well, I strongly suggest you don't return next week. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, Sir. I won't, Sir."

"I hope not. Now, turn around and bend over."

Juliette was far enough away to be able to partially shut out the beating that followed. But she knew hers would come. And the headmaster came to her next.

"I dare say this has been an unpleasant experience?" he suggested.

"Yes, Sir," Juliette replied, more embarrassed than ever now by her state of undress as the teacher stood in front of her.

"You will find," he continued, "that most of the girls you will meet really enjoy themselves at this school - as long as they stay away from this one room."

"Yes, Sir," Juliette replied, finding his statement surprisingly easy to believe.

"I am punishing you because I want you to recognise that you have done wrong and because I care about your education and the chances you create for yourself whilst you are here. Do you understand?"

Until he asked that question, Juliette had been unable to reconcile the terrible humiliation and pain of the afternoon with her increasingly willingness to go along with it. Now she began to understand. Despite the pain, she was experiencing something close to elation as the necessity of avoiding more afternoons like that one led her to question her behaviour for herself for the first time.

"Yes, Sir. I think so."

"Good. Now, I'm going to give you five strokes with the strap. Turn around and bend over."

Taking one last look at the terrifying leather strip in the teacher's hands, Juliette turned her back on him and leant forward over her desk, grasping the sides hard. She knew she was going to cry, but she wanted to take her punishment as well as she could. If she could at least hold her position....

The crack of the strap seemed to Juliette to echo around the room, merging with the sound of her own wailing. A burning stripe of pain had been painted across both cheeks by the harsh contact of leather on skin and Juliette desperately wanted to jump up and get away from the promise of more. But, despite the embarrassment and pain of having her bare bottom strapped, it seemed to her now that to seek to escape the beating she had earned would be even more of a humiliation. Mr Barnes, she imagined, must have a very low opinion of her by now, and she found that it was becoming increasingly important to her that she should reverse that opinion.

As he brought the strap down across the girl's quivering bottom for the second time, the headteacher was in fact reflecting on how well Juliette was taking her punishment - especially as she had not been expecting it. He watched with a kind of pride as she held tight to the sides of the desk for each stroke, crying out loudly as he carefully aimed at less marked flesh each time: the third across the very tops of her thighs, the fourth across the upper parts of her cheeks. Many girls, even after several sessions across their headmaster's knee for a spanking, and over the desk for a slippering, could not endure five with the strap without trying to protect themselves, pleading for clemency, or getting up and trying to escape physically. Yet Juliette had taken four strokes as well as any girl he had had to punish. He still aimed to make the last one count though.


The leather snaked through the air and matched itself to the pretty contours of its target with a sound like gunfire, Juliette's screech of anguish following shortly behind. The headmaster frowned grimly to himself. If only these girls' fathers would employ a bit of the same "tough love" they asked him to use at school, he felt sure they would be less readily disobedient. Perhaps he would suggest to Juliette's father that the occasional trip across his lap might not go amiss.

Once his pupil's crying had subsided a little, Mr Barnes helped her up from the position she had worked so hard to maintain. Quietly, he whispered in her ear.

"Juliette, I must say you took your punishment with great dignity," he told her. "Well done!"

"Thank you, Sir," she answered, surprised at the glow brought to her face by this compliment. She could not fathom why it should be important to her, but somehow it was.

"Now you stand there while I deal with Stephanie."

Of course, one more. This time Juliette allowed herself to watch the last of the trio being beaten. It looked so viscous and painful that Juliette's pride in taking her punishment grew even stronger, especially when she heard Stephanie begging the teacher to stop after three. But there at the front of her mind all the time was the "thirty minute" marking on her detention slip. What could possibly be worse than that strapping?

Once Mr Barnes had completed Stephanie's punishment, he sat on the front desk to speak to all three, the girls still embarrassingly facing him with their young pussies on show.

"Well girls, I hope none of you are planning on coming back here for the strap again anytime soon?"

"No, Sir," they answered emphatically and as one.

"I'm very pleased to hear it." The headmaster allowed himself a smile. "Now, get dressed and let me have those nasty twenty-minute slips."

Quickly Kaitlin and Stephanie yanked up their knickers and half-ran across the room to collect their skirts, smiling broadly now despite the heat their bottoms shared. Only Juliette, tears rolling down her face now, didn't move.

"Juliette?" Mr Barnes looked at her with concern. "Are you alright?"

She shook her head and closed her eyes for a few seconds before answering.

"I haven't... my slip is for more than twenty minutes," she sobbed.

"Oh, I see," the teacher responded, sighing. "Well... you had better sit down again."

As the teenager sat back down on the cold wooded chair, her panties sliding down to her ankles as she did so, John Barnes began to think the new situation through. Juliette had taken her punishment well, despite her prior ignorance. And her teacher had almost certainly awarded her detention on the assumption that Juliette knew what was at stake, whereas he very much doubted that the new girl would have prompted the punishment had she known what it really represented. Juliette must know by now that he would not put up with poor behaviour.

On the other hand, he had read the reports from her last school. Juliette, although everyone agreed that she was a very able girl, was often disobedient, mendacious, rude... the list went on and on. And she had clearly not determined to turn over a new leaf... at least not before her detention. There was no way of reducing the rest of her punishment without giving her the signal that the school's rules, and the consequences of breaking them, were up for negotiation... and he could not risk encouraging her to "try it on".

Reluctantly her called Kaitlin back and handed her a bunch of keys, one key held aloft.

"Kaitlin, go and open the punishment cupboard. Inside you'll see two canes. Please bring me the longer of the two."

"N... na... nooh," Juliette sobbed quietly, more to herself than to the teacher.

With a heavy heart, he went over to her and sat on the desk, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Juliette, but we have rules here and the rules are to be followed."

He picked up the red slip lying, a little tear-stained by now, on the desk. Steeling himself, he continued.

"And the rule is that if you get a twenty-five minute or thirty minute detention, you have your bare bottom caned. I have to say that it doesn't happen very often at all... and also that it will hurt a great deal. However, I want you to think about something for me."

Juliette wiped her face crudely with her hands and looked up at this man who had made, in several different ways, such an impact upon her in a very short time.

"Forget about what happened in class this afternoon. I want you to think about all the times you were rude to your teachers at your last school, the girls you bullied, the lies you told, the lessons you missed.... You were a very naughty girl weren't you?"

She had listened to the same list many times without really hearing it. Now, for the first time, she found her face reddening with shame at the description of her prior behaviour.

"Yes Sir," she admitted.

"And what about at home. Was that different?"

"Not... not really," the girl mumbled. "I get into trouble a lot at home too."

"I see," the headmaster said, still gently rubbing her youngster's shoulders.

"I wonder how you would feel if I were to suggest to your dad that when you misbehave at home he should put you across his knee like a little girl, pull down your knickers and spank your bare bottom?"

"What?" Juliette started. "Would you.. have you..."

"I haven't done anything yet," the teacher reassured her. "But I'm tempted to. What do you think?"

She remembered all too well the rows, the shouting, the groundings, the complicated punishments and imagined instead the scene her new headmaster suggested. No fuss, no arguments, just pulled across her dad's knee and spanked. On her bare bottom. Right then and there. Over and done with.

"I think... I think it would be better than groundings and stuff. I think it would make me pay more attention to the result of misbehaving than I used to."

"So do I. I'll speak to him when he picks you up."

He paused as Kaitlin came over and handed him the cane. Juliette looked at it with terror. It was about three feet long, without the hook at one end she'd always seen in comics, but thicker than she'd imagined. She was sure she would not be able to bear even one stroke.

Her teacher placed the cane on the desk in front of her and continued to speak.

"Now, about your career at your last school. Do you feel you were punished properly for all the things you did wrong there?"

Juliette managed a smile.

"No," she remembered. "If it had been like here, I'm sure I would have been good."

"Well, that's encouraging," Mr Barnes continued. "But I wonder whether now might be the time for you to remember all of those times you hurt other people at your last school... and take an appropriate punishment for them."

"You mean... you mean the cane?" Juliette whispered.

"If you misbehave here, you will be punished," the teacher stated plainly. "You know that now, I think."

The girl nodded.

"Well, I think it would be good for you to feel that you've been punished for at least some of those things you got away with at your old school. I want the idea that being naughty is risk-free out of your head."

Juliette nodded again.

"OK," she said at last. Somehow she trusted this strict man and wanted to please him. Even if that meant a very sore bottom!

"Good," the headmaster said, feeling much better about what was to come next now that he had given it a surer context.

"It's twenty-five minutes now. You are to take your panties over to where you've hung up your skirt and put them on the same peg. Then I want you to come back here and bend over your desk again. I'm going to give you three strokes now, and then after thirty minutes you'll get another six. Clear?"

"Yes, Sir," Juliette replied, getting up and stepping out of her knickers, her embarrassment driven out by her anxiety about the beating to come. Without haste she carried out his instructions, leaving her knickers at the front of the room and the returning to the desk where she had, only five minutes previously, got the strap.

Meekly, she leant forwards over it to present her bare bottom for her headmaster's cane, feeling his steadying hand on the small of her back. As he had asked, she kept the images of her misbehaviour at her last school (images which she had always looked back on with fondness) in the front of her mind and for the first time was able to sense the pain she had caused. And now she was going to feel pain in return. It seemed only fair.

Juliette closed her eyes as she felt the cane come to rest gently across her cheeks. Suddenly she could see, for the first time, the virtue in getting to class on time, of getting her homework completed. She could understand the pleasures of coming top of the class in a test, or simply doing better that the teacher expected. And, above all, she could see the benefits of never, ever setting foot in that particular room at Danford Grove again.

She had earned this caning. Nine hard strokes on the bare bottom - though Juliette knew it would mean five or six minutes of agony and then God knows how much lasting pain - was just reward for her past misdeeds.

But it would be the first and last time. She was not sufficiently vain to think she would be able to reform overnight. She fully expected to find herself hauled across her father's knee a good few times to have her bare bottom smacked. She doubted, though she would certainly try, that she'd escape another date or two with the headmaster's slipper. She knew that she might even have to relive the humiliation of having him pull her panties down so that he could spank her naked cheeks himself.

But she would be caned once. Just this once. And never again.

The touch of the rod had left her now and she knew the first stroke was now only a second or two away.

Perhaps being a model pupil wouldn't be so bad after all.