'Fete' accompli

Apologies, apologies. I have not forgotten you, dear readers. But as I intimated last time I updated, the summer term is among the busiest in the school year, and this weekend's entertainment was provided by the school summer fete, of which I simply had to write a few words to inform you of its chief attractions - which turned out to be Miss Sidney's firm, tanned (and naked) buttocks.

Allow me to explain. I would not normally condone the use of corporal punishment for entertainment, still less for fund-raising. But the chapel roof is leaking, and the school is several hundred-thousand pounds short of its target. So when Miss Sidney approached me with her own take on our ever-popular (and lucrative - the little minx's simply love to throw wet sponges at their teachers!) take on the 'Soak Sir' stall I was, of course, all ears. And when she revealed the fund-raising potential of combining it with a sort of 'sponsored spank' as I suppose you'd call it, I was positively captivated.

Her proposal was to raise the stakes, as-it-were. No mere bucket and sponge for her. And no facing forwards in the school stocks, either. No. Miss Sidney volunteered to be this year's victim, head and hands securely locked in the apertures of the old oak stocks. But rather than facing the paying customers, she suggested turning the stocks around so that her (rather shapely) bottom was presented as a target. And not for any old wet sponges, either. Oh no. For the cane, the slipper, ruler, carpet-beater, any implement in fact a girl might choose with which to strike her. And at a minimum of one pound per stroke (more, clearly, for the cane and a fiver for the sjambok) Miss Sidney calculated that she could raise more than we could ever dream of raising from our soggy sponges.

'But my dear,' I cautioned, 'wouldn't this be rather hard to, er... bare? Think of your cheeks, my dear!'

'Oh, not a bit of it Headmaster,' she assured me. 'Remember my South African education - I've had years of practice.'

I raised an eyebrow.

'And the girls won't have the strength to hurt me.'

'Or, indeed, the money!' I suggested.

'Oh, I think they'll find the funds from somewhere. After all, who wouldn't want an opportunity to get their own back on the new young Housemistress?'

'Well, you have spanked an awful lot of girls,' I said.

'Oh yes, and they'll all want to get their own back, you can rest assured.'

Thus is was agreed that, last Saturday, Miss Sidney would be locked in the stocks, her bottom (did I mention its most comely, firm proportions?) gently protruding in the direction of a queue of schoolgirls, each clutching as many coins as they could muster and happily chatting about the pain they would inflict on their poor teacher. It was quite a carnival atmosphere, if truth be told. The 'thwack' of rattan on round flesh competed with the general noise of gaity of the school fete, the 'smack' of leather plimsoll on bare buttock cracked across the show ground (making the ponies start, I must add) and the swish of tawse became as one with the 'phut! phut!' of the airguns on the rifle range.

The prefects kept the score, both of the money taken and the strokes received, and at the same time reminded those who names appeared on the sponsorship form Miss Sidney had sent round the week before that they should hold some money in reserve to pay their dues. And what dues, readers. What dues!

At the end of the afternoon, Miss Sidney had received over three hundred strokes of the slipper, cane, tawse, ruler, martinet and birch. She had, rather conveniently, 'mislaid' the sjambok on the morning of the school fete. No matter. One can hardly begrudge someone who had spent the entire afternoon bent over in the stocks, presenting her comely bottom to the school for everyone to spank. And I'm pretty sure everyone must have had a go, as it were. Certainly a couple of the sixth-form boys took full advantage of the opportunity (and went away with their tumescent manhood bulging, somewhat, in their trousers!).

And the total raised? Why, almost five hundred pounds! Five hundred pounds! I can scarce believe it myself. It makes the thirty-quid taken on the coconut shy look rather paltry, doesn't it? And rest assured, dear reader. I made sure Miss Sidney was, erm... 'compensated' for her sacrifice at a rather pleasant little restaurant in town. And afterwards in my study.

Oh the joys of Headship!

The challenge!

Well, the gauntlet has been well and truly thrown down. Following Miss Sidney's introduction of the whip, the other three Houses here in school have all been desperately searching for something equally innovative to apply to the bare-bottoms of their girls. And in addition, the sjambok wielded so effectively by Miss Sidney has become something of a talking point. Indeed, in over twenty years of teaching girls I can scarcely recall an occasion when corporal punishment has been such a hot topic of discussion. And not merely discussion, either - observation. Girls have been caught comparing 'marks' in the showers; young ladies who should know better have been spying on each other in 'mid-punishment'; and our Head Girl - none other - has been instrumental in constructing a league-table detailing which girls have been punished and with what. (So far, incidentally, Odette King seems to be 'on top' as-it-were, with a total of six hundred strokes - mostly from Mr Leaman's leather slipper but over seventy of which were from my own cane. I shall be ensuring she makes three figures very shortly!)

But I digress. What have the other Houses been doing to create a punishment identity of their own? Well, I shall begin with our oldest House - Laughton, named after a fifteenth-century benefactor. As befits such an august institution, Laughton has returned to the centuries old tradition of the birch. You may recall a previous post of mine in which I explained the history of corporal punishment in British schools. The birch is indeed a most venerable instrument of punishment; indeed, its use is the progenitor of the bare-bottom caning we now know and love. For a birching over clothing is a most inoffensive method of chastisement. But the birch was superseded by the cane for good reason: the cane was a more effective disciplinary instrument. Indeed, so effective was it that it might even be administered to buttocks clothed in underwear and still hurt mightily. I have even seen it used effectively over outergarments, too, though as you know we prefer to see the cane applied to naked flesh. Girls have been baring their bottoms here for centuries, and just because the cane hurts more is no reason to alter such a long tradition. Thus when a distinguished predecessor of mine finally dispensed with the school birch, he did so with the express intention of continuing the chastisement of his charges on their bare behinds. Indeed, in the days of the birch all punishment were carried out in public. As you might recall, we occasionally have a caning in assembly even now. But most girls are punished in the privacy of my study, where I feel they can better express their sorrow and regret at the actions that have brought them to such a sorry situation.

Where were we? Ah yes, the birch. Collecting fresh bundles of the greenest twigs and binding them together has been the House Prefects duty. And very ably they have discharged it, too. Last week there were three House birchings, each one of them in excess of one hundred strokes. For the discomfort of the birch is unlike any other instrument. It builds up slowly, gaining an inexorable momentum, swish after swish, until the bare bottom reddens and the sharp twigs sting in the manner of a bed of nettles (so I am informed). It also, thus, takes some time and I was pleased not to have any other engagements on the occasion of Mandy Suter's birching. Summoned to her house-master, she was given a thorough dressing down, having been caught reading after lights-out. Told of the experimental nature of the punishment, the poor girl looked relieved. Indeed, who wouldn't look relieved on being told that Mr Graham was NOT about to cane them? But, of course, she knew nothing of the birch. Stripped from the waist down, the girl was told to lie across the end of Mr Graham's leather sofa, draping her upper body down and with her hands flat on the floor. We debated - with the girl already in position - whether it was necessary to restrain her, and after some discussion Mr Graham summoned the duty prefect, James, to grasp the girl's wrists and to hold them firmly down.

Mr Graham selected a birch freshly cut that day, and placed it gently across Miss Suter's nates. She flinched, slightly. Then he raised it high above his head, and brought it down in a great arc with some force.

'Swiiiish'.

Miss Suter grimaced, but no more.

'Swiiiish - swiiish - swiiish' went the birch as Mr Graham raised it high above his head and brought the bundle crashing down onto the girl's bare bottom. By stroke ten the girl began to wriggle, and I saw James tightening his grip. By stroke twenty she was writhing on the sofa, offering her bottom to the cooling air. And by stroke thirty she was panting like a tired cross-country runner, and indeed this punishment was something of a marathon.

Mr Graham paused a while on reaching his half-century, and I noticed he was looking rather tired. I had no wish to participate in the girl's chastisement personally; I was there merely as an impartial observer. But there was someone, kneeling on the floor with the strength to carry on. And so, with Mr Graham flagging, I suggested James pick up the birch and deliver the remaining strokes. As House Prefect, it will not have been the first time he had been called upon to wield a wand of punishment. But the few boys in this school are not normally allowed to chastise a girl's bare bottom. Now, I ought to point out that I am perfectly happy for a girl's nether-regions to be exposed both boys and girls at this school in assembly; no-one here should be expressing any improper interest in proceedings. But in this case, the proximity of young master James Carruthers and Miss Suter's bare-behind was a little discomforting, so I instructed the boy to stand in such a way as to avoid catching sight of Mandy's tumescent pudendum.

He took up his position, legs apart, and swished with great authority. Swish, swish, swish he brought the birch down time and time again. Swish - splat! The birch made contact, but young Jame's force seemed to continue. He was swinging through each stroke, not stopping when the twigs made contact with the buttocks, but continuing the stroke as if beating something like the arm of the sofa on which young Mandy Suter was reclining. The girl was rather alarmed at what was happening, and not without just cause. Her bottom reddening nicely, the twigs biting like a thousand tiny teeth each time the bundle struck, I could see this punishment being every bit the equal of Miss Sidney's whipping. And when the final stroke was laid it become obvious why so many birch rods need to be cut. The instrument thus used was broken, worn and fit only for the dustbin. Oh yes, the birch is a worthy implement for Laughton House, the equal of the sjambok and as wicked as my cane.

As Mandy was taken from the room by James for a little comforting, I congratulated Mr Graham on a splendid choice of instrument.

'Why, thank you headmaster' he replied. 'I trust you will find my colleagues choices equally satisfying.'

Whether I did or not is, as they say, another story....

Miss Sidney's Whipping

My word, can it really be a month since my last report? There is much to tell you. So much has happened! There was the caning of the entire senior dorm, for instance - in their dormitory - for unseemly shenanigans after 'lights out'. There was the occasion on which I had to deal with some unpleasantness between two young ladies in the shower-room following a PE lesson. I seldom spank a fully-nude young lady, but on this occasion I made not one, but two exceptions. And only last week I was forced to cane an entire bus-full of naughty sixth-form girls, when none of the passengers owned up to 'mooning' out of the back window. They won't want their bottoms publicly displayed after what I did to them, I can tell you.

I shall describe each of these scenes in due course, as part of my on-going web-tutorial. But first, of course, I must bring you 'up-to-date' with the corporal experiments of our new (and extremely efficient) House Mistress. You will recall I granted her the freedom to implement some rather unusual punishment ideas for a trial period of one term, and informed her that I would be monitoring the experiment closely. At the time of my last post, I was about to witness her strategy in action. She had summoned two senior girls to her study with the aim of demonstrating her ideas to me. I forget what - if anything - the two young ladies might have done. No matter. They were going to receive a House thrashing, and I was going to watch.

We discussed some of the principles involved in making a young lady see the error of her ways over a rather pleasant cup of Earl Grey in the airy-splendour of Miss Sidney's study. She and I are of one mind on so many things, I couldn't help but remind her of my surprise at her reluctance to wield a sturdy cane.

'Wait until you see what I have to offer' she said, smiling enigmatically. She rose from her oak desk and went towards the door.

'Come in please ladies' she invited, and two of the House prefects entered. I must say I was rather surprised to see that Keely Dukes was one of them, and I wracked my brains trying to recall an occasion on which I had cause to punish her (to no avail).

'Now, I have invited the Headmaster here to witness your punishment. I trust that this is fine with both of you?'

'Yes, Miss!' the girls replied in unison.

'Very well. Now Keely, I've already explained what's going to happen to you here today. Have you any questions?'

Keely looked a little apprehensive, but merely nodded her head.

'And Bethany - you know what's going to happen, don't you?'

Bethany nodded.

'Right, I'd like you both to remove your skirts.'

Both girls did as they were told. Bethany - the taller, more athletic of the two - possessed a lovely pair on long, tanned legs. Even if one hadn't been acquainted with the girl, one could have told from her lithe appearance that she was one of the school's top sportswomen.

'Now, take down your knickers.'

Both girls, bending at the knees, removed their bottle-green school-regulation knickers and stood facing Miss Sidney. Sitting in the leather arm-chair in the corner, I had the most delightful view of two bare bottoms - the one taught and firm, with the gluteous maximus of a runner; the other slightly rounder and fuller in appearance, but with the smoothness of youth. Looking carefully - as I did - at the latter posterior I found it hard to imagine that such a creamy smoothness had ever before been disturbed by the infliction of a punishment. Indeed, on checking my records later I discovered Keely Dukes to have a virgin bottom, never touched by cane or slipper. Until now, of course.

'Keely, I'd like you to go first as we agreed.'

Keely positioned herself across Miss Sidney's lap, adjusting her position so as to be lying as comfortably as possible, and presenting her House Mistress with a full view of her naked backside.

'I'm going to spank you first, to warm you up' Miss Sidney said, proceeding to deliver six stinging swats across Miss Duke's bottom. Without further instruction, the girls swapped places and Bethany's smaller bottom was duly reddened.

'Now, we agreed on six with the slipper next, I think?'

The two girls nodded. Miss Sidney rose and moved the chair so that each girl could grasp the seat as they bent over to receive the slipper.

'Stick your bottom out, please Keely' ordered the House Mistress, as the first girl 'assumed the position' for her slippering. And what a slippering! Miss Sidney is clearly of the opinion that the slipper is inferior unless raised high and brought down mighty hard, one buttock at a time. Again, how like my own view of the matter. Keely Dukes hands gripped the chair hard as her buttocks received the treatment. Six hard whacks flattened each cheek in turn, leaving the definite imprint of the rubber sole for all to see. The other girl, standing watching hands on head, starting biting her lip as she saw how hard the slipper strokes were landing. With slightly less by way of padding, her anxiety was understandable, and when her turn came she moved reluctantly to take up her position on the chair. Nevertheless, the girl remained firmly in position - though wincing - as the slipper smacked into her bottom. As the last stroke was administered, Bethany stood up and turned to see the damage. But there was more to come.

'Now ladies,' Miss Sidney started, 'as you know I want to establish a unique House discipline identity across the school. If this trial is successful, I hope each of the four school houses will impose its own unique style of corporal punishment, leaving the Headmaster to wield the cane when necessary.'

The two girls nodded.

'But the Headmaster had rightly insisted that whatever replaces the cane must be of equal standing. And as I'm sure you will agree, a spanking followed by a slippering - however hard - comes nowhere near to doing that.

'But Miss... it really hurt' complained Bethany. 'You spanked us really hard.'

'I know, I know' Miss Sidney soothed. 'But we have a duty to ensure that no-one is treated unfairly in this school. If the other houses thought that - in abandoning the cane - girls in my house were being treated leniently, it would undermine the discipline of the school.

'Indeed it would' I chipped in. 'And as you know, discipline is what this school prizes most highly.'

'Yes sir!' the girls both chorused.

'So, to conclude your physical chastisement, I am going to whip you. You will each receive ten strokes of the sjambok, as we agreed last time we spoke.'

Now this was a surprise. I am familiar, of course, with the long switch of rhino-hide but had never before seen its use in a school setting. This was going to sting and - if such a thing is possible - even more than the cane. No wonder Miss Sidney offered the girls a gag in order to prevent them crying out. No wonder, too, the she chose strong rope to tie them down across the vaulting horse she had the girls carry to the middle of the room. Once Keely Dukes was thus secured, I sat back - entranced.

'Whoop - thud'. The rod made a dull splat as it came into contact with her already-reddened buttocks, and I realised now why the warm up spanking had been necessary. For one thing the shock of such a sudden, fierce lash would be too much, but on a virgin bottom such as Keely's the tender skin would almost certainly have suffered. Now, however, hardened by Miss Sidney's hand and by her slipper, Keely's bottom could withstand not one, but two, and three, and four, and five blows with the plaited leather whip before gasping slightly into her gag. On stroke six her breathing quickened; by stroke seven she was writhing hard against the ropes and twisting - as much as she could - to ease the pain. Strokes eight and nine came down in quick succession and by stroke ten the girl was panting heavily. (Was she also a little damp between her legs? It is unseemly to say so, but I couldn't help but notice her vagina glistening - especially as she thrust her buttocks upwards and apart in time with her rapid breathing. Untying the ropes took long enough to allow the girl to regain some of her composure. It also heightened the anticipation in the spectator, who fully understood now what she was about to suffer.

Bethany hesitantly stepped towards the vaulting horse and draped her long, tanned body over it. Helpfully, she placed her wrists flat against the wooden staves, allowing her Housemistress to bind them both securely. Next her ankles were tied tightly to the rear legs of the horse and finally, a length of rope was criss-crossed over the small of her back and under the padded leather bench that she was lying on. Thus secured, Miss Sidney offered the girl a gag, but she refused.

This time, I watched carefully as the housemistress measured the fearsome leather wand across the girl's bare-bottom. I studied her right arm as she withdrew the rod but slightly, then with a flicking motion swished it down across the naked buttocks.

'Whuup - thudt!' One stroke of the sjambok.

'Whuuup - thudt!' Stroke two.

'Whhhhoooop - THUD!' Stroke number three.

'Whuuuuooooooop - smack!' Stroke four hit right across the apex of Bethany's bare buttocks, the sweet-spot in any form of corporal punishment.

'Yeaooow!'

'Whooooop - splat! Whoooop - splot!' Strokes five and six were both a little harder and the girl's head was thrown back as she grimaced with the pain.

'Whoooooop - thud!' Stroke seven landed right on the spot where the girls buttocks met her taut, athletic thighs. She yelped, but more out of surprise I feel. And all the time Miss Sidney merely 'flicked' the sturdy whip across her target.

'Flick - crack! Flick - crack!' Two more strokes, slightly higher and each one landing on fresh skin. I could now count nine angry stripes as my housemistress paused for a moment. Bethany looked around, puzzled slightly. Keely, standing hands on head' was watching closely. I held my breath. Miss Sidney flicked the whip. And the punishment was over.

'Well, Headmaster?' she was asking. Both girls had been dismissed with very sore bottoms, and Miss Sidney was keen to discover my opinion.

'Well my dear...' I started.

'Yes?' Miss Sidney leant a little further forward.

'Well, I am impressed. Surprised, but very impressed. If each of your rival houses can come up with something equally effective, I can seen I shall be ordering fewer school canes every year from now on.'

Miss Sidney sat back in her chair, and smiled.

'One question, though' I said as I got up to leave.

'Apart from its obvious effectiveness, why choose a sjambok as your House implement of punishment.'

'Ah' she said, and smiled. 'My South African education left its mark, I suppose you could say.'

'My word!' I said. 'And were any of them... physical, by any chance?'

'Ah now Headmaster' Laura smiled. 'That would be telling...'

Back to school!

Ah, summer term (or as we know it here, the Hilary quarter). I do so love this time of year. The birds are singing, the trees are coming into leaf and our girls are all in summer uniform. At last the winter tights can be dispensed with, and young ladies may legitimately walk around the school bare-legged. This makes my job so much easier. How much more efficient merely to lift up a girl's skirt, pull her knickers down and then get on with it?

I trust the Easter break was restful for you all? We are now fully in the swing of one of our busiest times of year: exams, reports, sports day, the summer fete. And I return to my study with some rather delicate issues to ponder. Like whether to allow our newly-appointed Head of House to abandon tradition and adopt her own personal corporal punishment strategies. I should explain. You might recall that the successful candidate (who so magnificently caned young Melanie's bare bottom in the spank-off) chose to use a rather heavy leather strap when completing the chastisement task we set as part of the initial interview. She, and the gentleman ultimately unsuccessful, both showed such firm resolve that we, the panel, felt unable to choose between them. We thus invited them back to the school and offered them a bottom each to cane, and cane hard, until such time as the girl on the receiving end indicated she was unwilling to go on. Miss Sidney was a worthy winner. She was both accurate and firm and as such was appointed to be Head of Netherfield House. And after her first few weeks in post, I have no reason to regret our decision.

Miss Sidney is popular with all the girls; her skills as a classroom practitioner are exemplary; and she has shown a real dedication to the extra-curricular life of the school, assisting the music mistress with the choir and coaching several junior sports teams. I have been very, very impressed. So when she asked to meet me before the end-of-term to discuss what she termed 'a pastoral matter', I was only to happy to accommodate her. We sat in my study sipping lapsang-souchong and she told me of her plans.

'I wonder,' she began, 'how you would feel about my not caning any of the girls in Netherfield House next term?'

I'm afraid I spluttered, rather.

'But caning girls is one of our strengths. It's why the parents send their offspring here in such large numbers. Surely you cannot be proposing the abandonment of corporal punishment?'

'Oh no, Headmaster. Not at all. Allow me to explain...'

And I sat back and sipped my tea as Miss Sidney unveiled her plans, not just for her own House, but for my school.

'So, may I experiment a little next term, Headmaster?'

I sat back, a little taken by surprise. Of course, such initiative is to be welcomed. Miss Sidney presented me with a very cogent argument. I have been more impressed with this young lady than any member of staff in recent memory. But... but. To tinker with the proud traditions of this school? To undo all the good of generations of caned bottoms? To allow Miss Sidney to experiment?

What was I to do?

'Miss Sidney' I said. 'Laura - may I call you Laura?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Laura. I must be honest with you. As you know I take the chastisement of our girls very seriously.'

'Of course, Headmaster.'

'And I know you do too. No-one could be in any doubt on that score. Having seen you wield both the cane and a rather fearsome leather belt, I am under no illusions as to your ability as a pedagogue, Miss Sidney.'

'I should hope not, sir.'

'But abandoning tradition in this way does worry me.'

'It must.'

'And I'm not sure I can agree immediately to your plans.'

For the first time, Miss Sidney looked a little disappointed.

'No. But I will grant you one term to experiment.'

'Oh, thank-you Headmaster.'

'Yes, and I insist on overseeing the proceedings for myself.'

'Of course.'

And that was how we left it. And that is why, in a little over half-an-hours time, I shall be knocking on Miss Sidney's study door to see her plans in action. I have no idea who the miscreant will be. I am not at all sure what to expect. But of one thing I am sure: whatever methods Miss Sidney chooses, there will be one very sorry young lady at the end of it. And fear not, I will return shortly to tell you all about it.

The final countdown

You will be pleased to know that, finally, the search for our new staff member is over. We have a new Head of House, and one more than capable of upholding our fine tradition of corporal punishment. After a great deal of time - and not a little trouble for the two volunteer prefects - we reached a unanimous decision based solely on the successful candidate's ability to cane a girl's bare bottom. Of course, there are a great many more qualities necessary in discharging such important duties. But you will recall that we were faced with two candidates whom we simply could separate - except, perhaps, in one respect. Their ability to punish.

As some of you have commented, achieving parity in such a caning contest is not without its difficulties. Should each person spank the same girl, in order that there might be a direct comparison? Or should we choose two girls, one for each of the candidates? Or even four? In the end, we opted for the simplest approach. Each candidate would be asked to cane a fresh bottom; we - the interviewing panel - would observe the punishment and draw our own conclusions. Two girls of equal stature - not to mention stamina - were invited to attend. Two girls, I might add, whose ability to withstand severe chastisement is beyond question; girls, indeed, who have been on the receiving end of my most senior cane on a number of occasions. There was no doubt whatsoever in my mind that these two girls could 'take it'.

But take what? And how? On the latter issue we decided to bring out of retirement our ancient flogging stool. This contraption - out of use for some years - once took centre stage in our assembly hall. My predecessor had been firmly of the opinion that girls - being delicate creatures - not only needed regular caning but also fully restraining. Thus he had a previous caretaker construct a large bench across which girls could be secured in just the right position for their bottom's to receive a thrashing. There is merit in this strategy, not least because it presents a clear and stable target for the caner. I have myself occasionally brought out the bench for training purposes, in order to ensure new teachers don't stray off target when they wield the cane, often for the first time. Very rarely is it necessary to restrain a girl these days, in my experience. But you will recall that I have discreetly modified my desk for such a purpose, should it be required.

My predecessor, though, would always strap a girl down, whatever her age and experience. (He would also routinely carry out his punishments in public, hence the positioning of the block in the school hall.) Having retained this rather quaint item of furniture, we thought it would be useful both to our remaining candidates and for the two girls, Melanie and Jasmin. For they were both - potentially - about to receive the thrashing of their lives.

We - the governors, school chaplain, my Assistant Master and myself - gathered in the school library to inform the candidates of the task before them. We issued each one with a heavy cane, and then I tossed the coin. The gentleman candidate graciously allowed the lady to call; she lost. I then invited Mr A to remain with us, whilst the chaplain escorted Candidate C to the door and invited Jasmin to enter.

'Come in, come in dear girl' I called, for I could tell she was a little nervous. This girl has been caned before the school, and more than once, but a distinguished, adult audience clearly brings its own, special levels of anxiety.

'This is Jasmin' I said to Mr A, 'who has kindly volunteered to receive your caning.' Jasmin smiled and shook the gentleman's hand. As she unzipped her skirt and removed her knickers, I reminded everyone what was about to happen. Until that moment, both the candidate and poor Jasmin had assumed that they would be at either end of just another caning. But this would be a caning with a difference.

'Everything clear?' I asked. Jasmin was now standing, naked from the waist down, waiting to be strapped down to the block. I nodded to Mr Emery, indicating that he should oblige the girl, wished the candidate 'good luck' and then resumed my seat.

The process of affixing six leather straps to the girl's ankles, wrists and thighs took several minutes, and I was grateful to the Chairman of Governors for his suggestion earlier that both girls try the bench for size before the day in question. Thus Jasmin knew precisely where to place each limb, standing upright while her legs were pinioned and then bending over and stretching out her arms so that her wrists could be secured. Once Jasmin was thus fastened, I nodded to the candidate and invited him to begin. He stepped forward, measured the long cane carefully across the girl's bare bottom then - without once tapping - raised it high and brought it smartly down across her buttocks. Jasmin closed her eyes and grimaced.

'Whiiiish!'

The sound of the cane echoed in the great expanse of the medieval library, and I felt sure both Melanie and our other candidate, sitting outside, would be able to hear. We had placed the bench so that we had a clear view both of the girl's backside and - thanks to a strategically-placed mirror - of her face. As stroke two sliced like a cord across her naked flesh we were thus able to observe a slight gritting of the teeth, and as strokes three and four hit home we noticed Jasmin's eyes scrunch tighter and her fists clench. Five, six and seven made a lot of noise as the rattan sizzled through the air and cracked like a rifle shot on Jasmin's poor bare bottom. But - so far - the girl herself was silent. On stroke eight I noticed her opening her eyes; stroke nine must have caught her unawares, as she gasped audibly and looked directly in the mirror. By stroke ten she had caught my eye and seemed keen to keep my gaze. I knew we were almost there, but the brave girl took another two, three, four strokes before I finally detected a slight nodding of her head to indicate that she had had enough. Fourteen fearsome strokes. As the straps were unbuckled I thanked Mr A and invited him to take a seat outside the library. Jasmin stood before us - rather shakily - gaining her composure as the panel inspected the damage closely. We were impressed with the candidates accuracy and asked the girl to give us her opinion of each strokes severity. She confirmed my initial impression that the gentleman had 'warmed' to his task somewhat, only really administering strokes of adequate severity in the latter stages of the punishment. I thanked her, and she dressed herself and went back to her class.

'Mr Emery, would you invite Miss C and Melanie to come before us?'

I rather fancy Miss C knew by now what she was in for. Whether she had counted out the strokes or not, I don't know. Melanie was certainly under no illusions as to what was now required, smartly removing her skirt and knickers and standing to attention at the whipping bench. As she leant forward, allowing Mr Emery to strap her wrists, I explained to Miss C that - although she was required to cane the girl until she indicated she could take no more - on no account must she pay any attention to the number of strokes. She must administer what she considers a severe punishment, and keep on lifting up the cane until I call a halt to the proceedings.

With Melanie thus strapped down and unable to move, I invited the lady to step up to the mark and commence her caning.

'Swiiiiiiish = crack!' Stroke one was about as hard as I have ever seen a cane used. You might recall this woman chose a leather strap with which to beat a girl in the earlier round of interviews. She was thus clearly used to wielding an implement with considerable force. Melanie, whose eyes had been shut tight in anxious anticipation, suddenly opened them in wild surprise and not a little apprehension.

'Whiiiiish - smack!' Stroke two evinced a swallowed gasp from the poor girl, and by stroke three she was blowing like a cross-country runner. Her fists were clenched and - if she had been able - she would have clearly been hopping round the library in acute discomfort.

'Swooooosh - whack!' By stroke three I had caught the girl's eye in the mirror. Surely she wasn't going to give way so easily? Melanie - whom I had caned at least a dozen times before, and often in assembly - would surely hold her composure longer. Wouldn't she?

'Swiiiiiish - smaaaack!'

'Arrghh, oww!' the girl emitted, quietly. I looked at her. She lowered her head, indicating that Miss C was to continue. This time I observed closely the woman's technique. Instead of raising the cane vertically, most of the withdrawing movement seemed horizontal. Only when the cane was well behind her, did her wrist cock and the cane flick upwards momentarily, before whizzing down and across and slicing into Melanie's bare bottom.

'Ohh!' she cried. But she was brave. And although we could all see five stinging, throbbing stripes across her smooth white nates, Melanie put her head back down and braced herself for stroke number six.

'Whiiiiiishhhh - CRACK!'

The last one was a corker. Melanie's head shot up in alarm, she caught my eye and nodded her head as quickly as she could.

'Thank you, Miss C' I said. 'I think we've seen enough.'

As Melanie was helped back to her feet I offered her my handkerchief.

'Well done, my dear' I said. 'Well done. Was it too bad?'

'Worse,' she sniffed while pulling up her knickers.

'Really?'

'Yes, sir - even worse than you! If this lady doesn't get the job,' she sniffed, 'then I'm going to get my parents to remove me from this school and send me to whichever school she works at.'

As I said then, a unanimous decision. And not just among the panel!

So many girls...

As we await the return of the two final candidates for the trial caning later today, my mind turns to the problem of chastising so many different girls. I refer not only to the variety of physical attributes: girls with well-rounded gluteous muscles, girls with small, soft cheeks; girls with abundant 'padding' and those with very little flesh for protection. All those things are, of course, important. It would be no use whatsoever using a small, thin cane on a round, plump bottom. Oh no. And it would be a tad unfair to use the heaviest cane at my disposal on a willowy young thing with a tiny bottom. No. I see it as my duty to select precisely the right tool for the job. And a lifetime's experience usually means my judgement is sound. I make mistakes, of course. Who wouldn't. I have seen girls receive their caning and then leave my study with barely a shrug of their adolescent shoulders. Girls with, perhaps, a higher pain-threshold than I had allowed for, or whose bare bottoms - pert and round - I did not anticipate withstanding a more serious flogging. It doesn't often happen, but when it does then you can guarantee I'll have them bending over in my office on some pretext just a few days later. And this time, I will not allow myself to be deceived by the appearance of a pair of smooth, firm (and unmarked) cheeks. I will select a heavier instrument, and deal with the matter in hand before adding one or two extra strokes to make up for my inadvertent leniency. No girl must go unpunished here, and no-one - least of all the girls - would expect less than they deserve. Occasionally, of course, the opposite situation might occur: a girl is caned a little more severely than I had intended. But this is rare. I am usually able to select precisely the right implement for the job in hand, and everyone leaves my study satisfied that justice has been done.

But as well as the physical attribute of young ladies, we must consider their personalities. Some girls are psychologically robust, and they are often the sporty ones. They enter my study with a certain nonchalance I find endearing. They stand before my desk and listen carefully to what I have to say, before quickly unzipping their skirt, stepping out of their knickers and bending over, very matter-of-factly, for their punishment. Many touch their toes with ease; some merely rest their hands upon their knees. All look up. All turn round to see what I am doing. None makes a sound, other than the slightest sigh each time the cane strikes their bare nates. Of course, these girls are often fine physical specimens, too. Their buttocks are firm, the muscles well-developed. They almost always receive the attentions of a heavier rattan, and receive it well. They stand, smartly, at the conclusion of their chastisement, dress quickly, thank me politely and even sometimes smile as they leave my study. These are the girls I like caning best.

There is another type, of course. The less physically-minded, the more cerebral kind of girl. The arts student. Such girls frequently write poetry. They present themselves on the rare occasions they are guilty of some serious misdemeanour and can barely look at me. Some are crying quietly already. Almost all find being asked to bare their bottoms an unbearable humiliation, by far the most distressing aspect of their punishment. For them I almost always choose a light wand; they will be caned merely for form. They expect to be caned, of course, and caned they must be. But it will altogether be a less severe affair than for many other girls. Theses girls are the ones who - once devoid of knickers - turn and present their bottoms to me shyly, hardly bending over at all at first. They flinch as the the cane gently taps their buttocks; they hold their breath. They may even cry as the strokes land. But they will never squeal. No girl squeals, no matter how sensitive her bottom or her temperament. And if they think they might, a handkerchief is offered to bite into as the cane does its work.

I will, of course, write more specifically about such girls on another occasion. For now, I must prepare things for the final stages of our staff selection. I have, of course, chosen two of our most sporty girls for this afternoon's deliberations: two girls who will bare their bottoms happily, and withstand whatever is meted out to them by our candidates. And, of course, I shall announce the results here in due course. Which just leaves me with a question: which 'type' of girl are you? Are you frightened of the cane, or might you secretly desire it?

The final applicant

To complete the task started some considerable time ago, I am today finally at liberty to reveal the outcome of our deliberations regrading the vacant post of Head of House. You will recall that when the interviews took place, earlier this year, we invited each of the candidates to demonstrate their disciplinary prowess both by determining the punishment they considered to be most appropriate to a pre-supplied fictitious misdemeanour, and also by then executing their chosen punishment on the bare bottom of a senior girl selected for the purpose. Well, dear reader, it was a close-run thing. Although, on the basis of a rather lacklustre caning, it was possible to eliminate Candidate D at an early stage in our deliberations, the remaining three candidates each brought their own unique quality to the post, and I would have been happy to employ each one of them. Sadly, there is but one vacancy, and difficult decisions must be made. Candidate C, you may recall, was the only one of the four not to use a cane. Nevertheless, poor Charlotte Edward's bottom showed more than adequate signs of the severity of her punishment, so we duly kept her in the running. We all admired Candidate B's ingenuity in making an example of Miss Knowles'. You may recall that, after caning her (as Head Girl) for setting such a poor example to the juniors he then made her stand in the corridor for everyone to see. Such a shaming example would certainly have redressed any imbalance caused by such a serious misdemeanour, but the panel felt that total nudity in punishment was rather unnecessary, and we thus dismissed Candidate B from contention. Which left the first candidate we interviewed. He had the challenge of chastising not one, but two of our girls and both Katie and Rebecca were impressed by his accuracy. Although poor Rebecca - in her assumed role as the instigator of the inappropriate relationship with a younger girl - received rather too many strokes (a total of twelve) we nevertheless felt that this gentleman had the necessary skill and judgement we required.

We were thus left with the unenviable task of deciding between two extremely worthy candidates. As a woman, Candidate C was ideal in so many ways. But then Mr A , too, had so much to recommend him. I regret we could not separate the two candidates. We invited all three of the girls who had been disciplined by these candidates to give the panel the benefit of their opinion. But we found each of the girls arguing an intelligent case for the one who had punished them. Charlotte Edwards spoke very highly of Miss C's ability with the strap, and both Katie and Rebecca (now a little calmer) argued strongly that house discipline would be extremely secure in the hands of Candidate 'A'. Thus stuck on the horns of a dilemma, we decided there was only one thing for it. Both candidates would be invited back for a 'spank off'. This time, there will be none of the added pretence of role-play. Indeed, we will allow neither candidate the luxury either of choosing an implement, or determining the appropriate punishment. I will reconvene the interview panel, select two girls from the upper sixth, and invite each candidate in turn to cane the girls in front of us. That should settle the matter properly. Now, any volunteers?