Her First Thrashing

HER FIRST THRASHING

His right arm rose and the cane he was holding rose with it. A slight pause at the top of the swing and then it lashed down again.….WHACK….. it landed across the centre of the pink bottom in front of him. The owner of that bottom sucked in her breath sharply and rocked forward slightly onto the balls of her feet before returning to her position just in time for …..WHACK….. it happened again. It had already happened twice before this narrative started and it was destined to happen twice more before the voice of authority commanded
‘Stand up and join the others…NEXT…knickers down…bend over’
This scene was taking place in a school gymnasium. Two girls stood in a line waiting for his attention. All the girls were about eighteen years of age, dressed in dark blue skirts and white shirts with striped school ties.
The man was in his forties and wore an academic gown over his formal dark grey suit.
The girl who had just been the target for his stick, carefully stood upright and holding her skirt away from her agonisingly painful bottom, shuffled over to the wall bars where a further dozen girls were already standing in a similar state of half dress facing the wall. They all had the visible marks of six cane strokes across their bottoms and were holding their uniform dark blue skirts away from their blazing flesh. Twelve pairs of white knickers were more or less positioned across twelve sets of black nylon clad mid thighs. They were all rubbing their buttocks. Some were tearful and some were silent but all were dreading the moment when they would have to sit down on hard wooden school chairs again.
The year was 1950 an era when errant British schoolgirls expected to be thrashed as a method of being made to see the error of their ways and in this respect were not often disappointed.
The next girl had arrived in position and was bending over in front of him. Her size 16, white cotton knickers were half way down her thighs and her hands firmly grasped her ankles. The master reached down and pulled her skirt up and laid it across her back, revealing a large eighteen year old bottom, a black suspender belt supporting black nylon stockings, for these items were also part of the school uniform, at least for the upper sixth form.
The master flexed his thirty six inch cane and sliced it through the air twice before tapping it across the centre of the girl’s rump. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him raise his arm. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth as …WHACK…the first stroke landed across the centre of her bottom. Like most of her predecessors, she gasped and lurched forward. Her thighs sagged and her bottom dropped but rose rapidly back into position as his voice barked
‘Get that bottom UP Girl. How can I hit it if you keep waving it about?!’
‘Sorry Sir’
‘SILENCE GIRL; you will take your punishment without speech’.
The cane whistled through the air and landed with a firm WHACK just below the first, which was now a raised red line. The girl’s knuckles whitened as she desperately gripped her ankles tightly, not daring to move the throbbing target for his cane; four more strokes and she was also free to hobble over to the wall bars.
The last girl in line didn’t walk straight to the spot. She seemed mesmerised by the position she found herself to be in. She stood stock still and stared at the master and trembled. He pointed at the floor in front of him and gave her the command to come forward and present herself for punishment. The problem was that although nearly all girls had received corporal punishment at some time in their school lives, there were still a very few who had so far escaped and this was one such girl. She just couldn’t believe that during her final term she was going to be thrashed as part of one of the largest group beatings that had taken place in recent times. She had never even been spanked at home and now she was about to be beaten on her bare bottom with a stick in front of all her classmates. They had all taken their canings more or less bravely, but she had no idea how she was going to react. She had no concept of what six cane strokes would feel like but she was well aware that her bottom was larger than most and that she would have more beaten flesh than most of her classmates. The cane would probably catch her with most of its length.
‘If you don’t come over here IMMEDIATELY and bend over I shall come over and drag you to this spot and if you make me do that you will get EIGHT strokes.’
One of the girls already dealt with walked rather stiff leggedly over to her, placed her hand on her shoulder and whispered in her ear, ‘Come on Angela, get it over with’, and she led her across to where the master waited. She looked up at him and said timidly,
‘Please Sir, She’s never had the cane, may she bend over a chair?
The master looked around the gym and motioned Angela to follow him to a vaulting horse. He indicated that she should pull up her skirt and bend over the horse.
When she was in position, the master hooked his fingers into the elastic waistband of her size 18 white cotton knickers and pulled them down to her knees. Her virginal white bottom clenched and unclenched in front of him as her tapped it with his cane. The other girls who had all been caned or strapped or slippered at some time and had seen each other go through the ritual, but had never seen this happen to Angela waited with baited breath, for the caning to begin.
WHACK! The first stroke wasn’t very hard by senior school standards, but it made Angela’s ample bottom dimple and shake like jelly. She kicked up her legs and shrieked out involuntarily and tried without success to get her hands behind her to rub. When she repositioned herself it was with her legs splayed wide apart. Now the target was even larger and her wetly gaping vagina was on open view to everyone. If the others could have seen her face, which was of course impossible from her position, they would have been amazed at the look of fulfilment on it.
For Angela had a dark secret. Throughout her school days she had watched others getting spanked over the knee in junior school and then slippered, strapped and caned in senior school and she had later re-lived these memories in her bedroom at home, placing herself in the ‘starring’ role. When she had been younger she had just had a warm glow but since her early teens she had discovered the excitements of a hand inside her knickers while running the sequence of events through her mind. Of course her clit had screamed for attention and over the years had received plenty of it, and now she was at last experiencing it for herself.
She pushed out her bottom and gave him the maximum target as the second stroke landed. This time there were no holds barred and it was a full bloodied stroke which landed, as Angela later thought of it, right across the centre of her ARSE!
But let Angela take up the tale as she later relived it lying on her bed at home, supposedly finishing her homework. Her skirt is up around her waist; her knickers which have a soaking wet gusset are around one ankle; her shirt is open and her tie is on the bed; her bra is pulled down and she is squeezing the left nipple of her 38D breasts between thumb and forefinger; her thighs are wide open; her calf muscles are tensed and her toes are curled over as if trying to grip the quilt; her bottom is clenched tight and is arched off the bed as she frantically rubs her clit to orgasm for the third time that evening.
‘I got the fucking cane this afternoon on my bare fucking arse; the others all got fucking six but I got fucking nine because he said ‘he’d teach me to enjoy a punishment’ but I didn’t need teaching; God! My fucking arse is sore! But I feel fantastic. The first stroke was quite light, but the second one wasn’t and after that he gave me four strokes which almost made me fucking cum. He told me to get up but I refused so he gave me another three and then I DID cum and I’m sure the other girls saw it because it was dripping down my fucking thighs. I think he knew as well because I’m sure he had a stiff cock when he’d finished with me; and later in the toilets I looked at the welts on my arse and couldn’t wait to get home to play with my cunt…and I’m cumming again…….OH OH OH OH OHGODDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!’