Emma Newlove

My friends, I am rather at a loss to know where to begin. Although I now boast three decades of pedagogical experience, although I have chastised upwards of five hundred teenage girls and although I have encountered some highly unusual transgressions, I have never before had to punish a girl for having a piercing. Down there.

Allow me to explain. When a girl is summoned to my study, when I have listened to her side of the story, and when I have determined what I consider to be the correct course of action it is customary for me to require the girl to remove certain items of apparel. So as to allow the rod of chastisement to do its work unimpeded, a girl who is about to be punished will remove her skirt. If a girl is before me for a first offence, she may not be aware of the requirement to divest herself of any other item of clothing and I may choose not to disabuse her of this notion. She will, of course, have heard tell in the girls' dorm that the cane is administered to the unclothed buttocks. She may have seen such a spectacle in assembly, for it sometimes necessary to carry out a caning publicly. But a girl's natural modesty will in all probability persuade her to remain covered for as long as possible. And the sight of yet another naked bottom is not something I now find myself awaiting with quite the same degree of anticipation. Of course, years ago as a young headmaster, who wouldn't have enjoyed the spectacle of a shapely young bare bottom? Who could resist the peachy roundness of taut adolescent flesh. Indeed, when I first accepted such responsibility, the girls who bent before me where - at eighteen - not far removed from my own tender years. In the first flush of youth I must confess to rather enjoying the sight of a creamy young white bottom bared for my attentions; as a healthy, red-blooded English male I have at times allowed my gaze to linger on the smooth cheeks pertly presented upwards for my disciplinary ministrations. And, yes, I have at times allowed my eyes to wander to that dark and secret corner where a maiden's greatest treasure dwells.

But no matter. Once a girl has been 'shown the ropes' she knows to smartly step out of her knickers too and stand to attention before my desk. Only at this stage will the girl be informed of the severity of her punishment. But thus unattired, my eyes can scarce avoid the said young lady's pubic region. And my, how things have changed 'down there'! When I first started as a young House Master, girls always stood before my desk with their modesty somewhat preserved by a little bush of pubic hair. Not all young ladies were as hirsute as the rest. Those with blonde hair, in particular, appeared to benefit from less 'protection' than their brunette sisters. Red-headed girls, on the other hand, sometimes seemed to have an impenetrable layer of wiry strands. (One felt some sympathy for their boyfriends!) But I digress. My point is this. The girls who stood before me did so au natural; as nature intended, without artifice or interference.

Then, about a decade ago, I started noticing what I can only describe as a 'trend' towards a certain amount of depilation. Girls standing naked from the waist down waiting for their caning did so with their pubic hair cropped close to the skin; a few went further, and seemed to be engaged in elaborate pubic topiary! I beat them soundly for it, of course. At least, at first. But the time soon came when not a single girl would present herself before me with a full bush on display. There were sometimes little tufts above an otherwise nude pudendum, or some frankly improbably artistic styling. Redhead, blonde, brunette it didn't matter. At one time every girl I caned came with her hair either shaved or trimmed. But always there. No matter how much seemed to be removed, no matter how artistically it was styled, there would always be some small vestige of their natural state. Until, of course, one day when a girl removed her pants and stood before me with a vulva quite as smooth and hairless as her buttocks. I caned her for it, of course. I instructed Matron to examine every girl to find out which of them had opted for the full 'Brazillian'. That very evening I gave a dozen strokes to twenty further culprits. And the numbers grew. Girls increasingly seemed to feel the need to divest themselves of every last trace of their pubertal state. And as beating every girl was not an option, the boundaries of acceptable behaviour were once again re-drawn.

Now I have, thus far, been exceedingly open about where my eyes might wander. Seated at my desk, having informed an unfortunate pupil that she is about to be beaten, having watched her carefully remove her skirt and - in the majority of cases - smartly step out of her regulation knickers, I am unfailingly greeted by the sight of her naked maidenhood at eye-level. And when I say naked, as I think I have explained already, I mean naked: bare, exposed, smooth, hairless, nude - bereft of the merest hint of any covering.

Thus is was when Emma Newlove presented the other morning. Her offence had been relatively minor: skipping prep. I was prepared to give her a swift half dozen strokes and say nothing more about it. As a senior, she has seen - or rather, felt it all before. She nodded as I told her of her fate, unzipped her skirt and stepped out of her knickers. Hands on head she stood before me, eyes forward, every inch the attractive young lady. And then, as I rose from my chair to select a cane, I noticed what I thought was something glinting in-between her legs. Now I am emphatically not the kind of person who gratuitously seeks the shame and embarrassment of my charges. On the other hand, I am in loco parentis. It is my duty to ensure my charges are healthy both of mind and body.

'My dear' I began, 'would you mind?' I motioned for her to sit down on the bentwood chair behind her. With her legs demurely closed she waited.

'Now, my dear' I continued, 'I intend to call Matron. There is something of which I feel she ought to be aware.

Within minutes the Matron was at my side. I dismissed Emma temporarily and explained the cause of my concern. On Miss Newlove's return, Matron smartly instructed her to lie upon my chaise-longue and to spread her legs. I turned my back and took in the view from my study window. The fifth-formers were busy a lacrosse; some seniors were practising their archery. Miss Sidney was patrolling bounds, I noticed. Very vigilant of her.

'Headmaster?' The voice of Matron summoned me from my reveries.

'I think you'd better take a look.'

Turning my attention to what lay between Miss Newlove's legs I cannot but admit that I was shocked. Not only was the area completely bald, as seems to be the fashion these days, not only were her fresh pink labia delicately protruding like the petals of a flower, not only was the tiny bud of her clitoral hood withdrawn, not only was the clitoris itself exposed but there, like a fairy version of a bulls nose-ring was a band of silver through the clitoris itself.

'As I suspected' Matron pronounced triumphantly. 'And I wouldn't be surprised if there aren't more...'

'More?' I gasped, and looked a little harder.

'Oh yes, headmaster,' and with that Matron shouted and the girl stood up quickly and began unbuttoning her blouse.

'Now, take your bra off girl' barked Matron.

The girl did as she was told. Her pert breasts thrust from the restraining influence of her brassiere and upon contact with the January air, the nipples stood erect. And there, through the left, was an identical ring to that we had seen between the girl's legs.

'This puts an entirely different complexion on things,' I declared. And I wasn't only thinking of my own rising colour. 'Oh no, this will never do' I told the girl.

'I will desist from caning you now,' I said, 'for the offence of missing prep.' The girl sniffed, hanging her in shame.

You will report to Matron first thing on morning. You will remove every item of your clothing. And at the end of assembly, Matron - if you would oblige - will bring you up onto the stage before the school is dismissed.

'But sir...'

'Enough! Or I will reconsider the twenty strokes I am minded to administer. You will present yourself on the stage with these... forbidden items of adornment on display for all to see. You will then turn round and lay across the table with your bare bottom facing school. I will then deliver twenty-one strokes of the cane. You will remain in position, and silent, throughout. At the conclusion of your punishment I shall dismiss the school while you remain, face-down across the desk with the marks of your chastisement on display. That way, the school will be left in no doubt about my feelings on the matter.

I can scarce credit it, dear reader. Had I not seen it with my own eyes I might have struggled to believe it. I think I can say without fear of contradiction I have never in all my years seen anything quite as unusual. I have made accommodation of all manner of girlish fads as regards the most intimate corners of their nubile bodies. But on this I will not be swayed.

Emma Newlove will ensure that no girl, however else adorned, will ever present herself be-decked in such a way again.