Marsha looked up as the door opened and thankfully saw that it was her boyfriend, Tom, although she was really annoyed with him.
“I’m so sorry, sweetie,” he said to Marsha.
Marsha was sixteen. She attended the local secondary school and was in year eleven and today she had attended the after-school chess club. Tom was supposed to have been at the school nearly an hour earlier to pick her up.
Marsha wasn’t happy at all. “Everyone has gone, Tom, even all the teachers. There’s only the caretaker left.”
Tom blushed as his girlfriend was in effect telling him off. Mind you, he was used to it as she had been doing so all too often, although he was happiest with girls Marsha’s age who had strong personalities like her.
Tom was twenty. He looked at his girlfriend and thought that she looked so grown-up in her dark blue skirt and light blue short-sleeved shirt. It was hot and she was wearing sandals but no socks. “Sorry,” he repeated.
“What do I say about saying sorry, Tom?” Marsha asked with a bite to her tone.
Tom blushed and replied contritely, “Better not to do something that requires you to say sorry.”
Marsha stood up and walked over to her Tom. She put her hands on her hips and, leaning forward, snapped, “What must we do with you, Tom? Eh?”
Tom blushed as he knew what Marsha meant. She was going to give him the spanking he deserved, or rather another spanking as she usually had cause to spank him at least once a week.
A voice came from the far doorway. “Take him to the punishment room. I’ve got the key.”
Marsha looked across and saw the caretaker. He was just twenty-five but had already been in the job for a few years and was well-liked by teachers and pupils alike.
Tom laughed cautiously at the suggestion but stopped when he saw the look on his girlfriend’s face.
“Do you?” asked Marsha.
“Sure,” the caretaker said, walking towards Marsha.
Tom watched as the caretaker put his hand in his pocket and took out a key. “Take it, Marsha, as a thank you for saving my butt the other day.”
Marsha smiled. She remembered the incident and how she had warned him the Headmistress was coming and he quickly put away the magazine he was reading and looked like he was working by the time the Headmistress got to him.
“OK, thanks,” Marsha said as she took the key.
Marsha looked at Tom and ordered, “Come on, then. You need to be punished straight away.”
Tom swallowed hard. “Erm, well, erm, Marsha, can’t we discuss this?”
Marsha replied firmly, “We will discuss it, Tom, just as soon as I am giving you the caning you deserve.”
“Caning?” Tom asked in an astonished tone.
Marsha was matter-of-fact. “Yes, Tom, with the cane which was made for naughty boy’s bottoms.” After a moment she added with a sly smirk, “Well, girl’s bottoms as well but we are discussing you right now.”
Tom was going to argue but the caretaker stepped in with, “You have a really adult girlfriend, if I may say so, and if she says you need a caning then believe me you need a caning.”
Tom looked at the caretaker, who was only a few years older than himself. As he thought about what he had said, Marsha said, “I caned Ellie’s step-mum last week.”
Tom was stunned. “Did you?” he asked incredulously.
“Yes, Tom. Ellie had a meeting with the Headmistress who had told her that her mum, well step-mum of course, had had an argument with another mum in the car park when picking her up from school. She didn’t see it but her mum admitted she was in the wrong. The Headmistress agreed to leave the two of them in her study to have a discussion about it. That was code for Ellie, who was a Prefect and knew how to use the cane, to cane her mum. The Headmistress didn’t know but Ellie texted me and I went straight to the study. She didn’t feel right caning her mum and asked me to. She went outside whilst I made her mum bend over the desk and used one of the canes that were hanging on the wall.”
“How many strokes?” Tom asked. He wasn’t sure why he asked but reckoned he was going to end up in the punishment room with Marsha so had better get an idea of what she was thinking of.
“Six strokes, Tom. Hard ones on her bare bottom as I made her take off her knickers just as the Headmistress does when caning anyone.” Marsha laughed as she added, “I thought I told you that Ellie told me when they sat down for dinner her mum didn’t and ate standing up?”
Tom did recall that Marsha had mentioned it. “Oh, yes,” he said quietly.
Marsha walked over to Tom and took him by the upper arm. “Let’s go, Tom. The quicker we do this the quicker we can get home.”
A few moments later they arrived at a door with the sign, ‘Punishment Room,’ on the outside. There was a second sign that had two slats: ‘In Use’ or ‘Vacant.’ The ‘Vacant’ slat was showing and Marsha flicked it across to show ‘In Use.’
Marsha used the key to unlock the door and held the door open for Tom to go in.
Tom entered and looked around. It was pretty much as he had expected with a caning table next to the wall but with enough room on either side not to matter if the person giving the caning was left or right-handed. There was a cupboard against another wall where he suspected the canes were stored. Otherwise, there was a small table which he assumed was for placing any clothing that had to be removed, like trousers and underpants, or a skirt and knickers, he reckoned. Finally, there were two upright chairs. Tom wondered if they were for an audience or that simply they were chairs where teachers sat to give the pupil a spanking.
“Trousers and underpants down, Tom,” Marsha ordered.
Tom nodded to his girlfriend as he undid his trousers. He knew he was going to be punished for being late and it was one of the most important rules he had to obey. He just reckoned Marsha would deal with him when they got home like she usually did, putting him across her lap for a bare-bottom spanking. He never expected to be brought here. Still, he agreed with the caretaker that his girlfriend had a maturity well beyond her sixteen years and even further beyond his if the truth be known.
As soon as Tom had lowered his trousers and underpants, Marsha ordered, “Bend over, Tom, and grab the sides of the table as high up as you can.”
In the event, Tom was tall enough to reach the far end of the table albeit his bottom was helpfully stretched out.
Marsha opened the cupboard and took out a senior cane, which she swished and bent in the middle. It would do, she told herself, as she positioned herself and tapped the cane on Tom’s bare bottom. “Six, Tom,” she reminded him.
“Yes, Marsha,” he said, turning his head to look at his girlfriend. When he saw the cane pulled back he turned away, closed his eyes, and prepared for the first cane stroke.
Marsha aimed the cane so it would land across the centre of Tom’s bottom on both cheeks. She got the stroke to land exactly where she planned and watched the red welt appear across Tom’s bottom, which was something she was expecting having already caned Ellie’s mum.
Tom gasped as the pain spread across his bottom. The worst he had had before was a wooden backed hairbrush applied by Marsha with him across her lap and that hurt enough, but the cane hurt much more.
Marsha aimed the second stroke just below the first and landed the cane exactly there. She watched Tom’s head jolt backwards with his eyes closed and his mouth dropped open. The effect of the cane strokes was clear; nevertheless, Marsha wasn’t going to waver as Tom needed to be taught a lesson just as she had given the lesson to Ellie’s mum when caning her last week. So, she landed the third stroke just below the other two and watched the reaction from Tom, which was another pain-filled gasp.
Three down and three to go, Marsha told herself as she landed the fourth stroke just slightly lower again. This time she landed the cane just above the sit spot, which was an area Marsha learned very quickly produced good results when giving a spanking. Good results for her, of course, and not for Tom.
The fifth stroke landed right on the sit spot and drew the loudest gasp so far from Tom as he threw his head back and cried out. Marsha waited for Tom’s head to fall almost back to the table before getting ready for the last stroke as she looked with satisfaction at the five red raised welts that now decorated Tom’s bare bottom.
The sixth stroke landed across the tops of her Tom’s thighs. Marsha knew this would hurt the most but even so resolutely landed the stroke with the same strength as the previous strokes and watched the result, knowing she had punished Tom well enough as proven by the loud cry from Tom and deep breaths in and out through clenched teeth as the pain took a hold of his senses.
Marsha put the cane back in the cupboard as Tom tried to recover. He was struggling but that pleased Marsha as she needed him to remember the caning as a lesson.
A minute passed before Marsha could tell Tom had recovered sufficiently. “Get up, Tom,” she ordered.
Tom eased himself up and saw Marsha smile as he rubbed his bottom, jumping from foot to foot.
“I hope you learned your lesson, Tom,” Marsha demanded.
Tom replied with a heartfelt, “I have, Marsha. I really have. I won’t ever be late for you again. I promise.”
Marsha smiled sympathetically. “I do hope so, Tom, as I don’t enjoy disciplining you but I just know you need to be.”
Tom knew that she was right. “I know, Marsha, and I know you only punish me when I need it. Like caning me today, which I know I deserved.”
“You most certainly did, Tom,” Marsha said emphatically. She smiled and added, “Anyway, Tom, you’ve been punished so get dressed, and let’s get home, shall we?”
Tom pulled up his underpants and gasped as the elastic snapped onto the welts, but recovering, he pulled up his trousers and took a deep breath to calm himself.
They left the Punishment Room and found the caretaker across the hallway. Marsha smiled and said, “Thanks for letting me use it. Here is the key.”
“No problem,” the caretaker replied. He looked at Tom and asked Marsha, “All sorted?”
Marsha looked at Tom and kept smiling as she saw he could not stop himself from rubbing his bottom. “Yes, all sorted,” she replied happily.
The caretaker glanced at the bulge in Tom’s trousers.
Marsha smiled as she had seen it already. “I’ll sort that out when we get home,” she said, knowing her knickers were damp as well.
