Emma At School - Part 1

(MF, S&M, spank, bond)

by Rosewood

(an674112@anon.penet.fi)

***

Emma At School Chapter 1 - A Change Is Called For

As Emma approached her front door she decided that things really couldn't get any worse. Not only had she just split up with Steven, her boyfriend of two whole months, the two of them had been seen in a compromising position by a teacher at school and reported. Emma had been sent home in disgrace and now had to face her parents; compared to the ordeal of the last 24 hours, this part would be a doddle.

As expected, Emma's mum and dad were waiting for her, looking suitably solemn. They began their lecture with a diatribe against Steven, and Emma tried not to let her deep sense of irony at the reprimand show. The truth was that Emma had discovered, belatedly, that everything her parents had told her about Steven had been true. He had only been after her virginity, he hadn't ever really loved her. He'd admitted as much to her after last night's disastrous date.

Last night! Her mind shut out her parents' droning and she drooped miserably as she recalled the terrible events. Her parents would never allow her out on school evenings - especially since Steven came along - so, naturally, she regularly slipped out in the evening and got a friend to cover. Last night was no exception. While her parents thought she was studying life in Europe during the Great War with Melanie, she was in fact engaged in heavy petting with Steven in a car parked by the pond in Hampstead.

Emma shivered as she recalled the events. As on so many occasions, Steven had been trying to get Emma to go "all the way" and, as on every such occasion, Emma had rebutted him. It was not easy either - what with two of his fingers buried deliciously inside her and his mouth nibbling at her ear lobes - but she had firmly said no. That was the point at which Steven had suddenly

turned nasty, calling her a tease and a slut. He'd suddenly tried to roll himself on top of her and Emma had found herself pinned down by the combination of his weight and her awkward position. It was Mr Jenkins, the passing PE teacher who had recognised the car and peeped in to see what he thought was consensual(if under-age) sex, who had unwittingly saved Emma from rape.

Not that she could tell the head or her parents any of this, of course. Apart from the fact that she should not have been out, confessing that her "wonderful" boyfriend had tried to force her to have sex with him would have confirmed all the very worst nightmares of her mother and she would probably never have let her out again.

All this went racing through her mind as her father spoke sternly to her. When he asked about the incident by the pond, she gave her father the same response she had her headteacher: they were "fooling around", but had not made love.

Emma felt so stupid. How could she have fallen for Steven's transparent charm? She allowed her father's harsh words to soak into her, trying to stem the shame she was feeling by accepting

her lecture with good grace. Suddenly, when her father fired another question at her, Emma realised she had no idea what he was talking about.

"Er... sorry, I didn't hear you."

"I said," her father repeated, slowly, "I had never thought of sending you away to boarding school, but now it seems quite a good idea. The one I have in mind, the Katherine Parr school, is well practised in dealing with poor behaviour and motivation. In fact I may as well tell you now, they use corporal punishment in the school."

Such a statement would, a day or two ago, have evoked absolute outrage in Emma - yet now it simply meant being able to get away from Steven and all her friends who would be laughing at her when they found out about what had happened. No, boarding school seemed quite attractive at that moment. And as for corporal punishment! Everyone knew that almost all English schools had stopped using any form of physical punishment for fear of the law - if this Katherine Whatsist's was an exception, then the punishments administered could hardly be very unpleasant.

Emma was feeling sorry for herself again now and asked her mum, "Is that it? Can I go now?"

"Go now!!??" It was her father who spoke - or rather, shouted at her. "No you may not! Your behaviour has been abysmal recently - at home and at school - and your work not much better. Too much time spent on boys!" he asserted.

Then Emma's father lifted her downturned face to his.

"Your punishment for curfew breaking and... and so on... last night."

Emma waited for the sentence. Emma's father looked uneasy and then spoke quickly.

"I've never laid a hand on you in anger in all your years, have I?"

"No, daddy."

"No. Well I think that if I am prepared to send you to a school where corporal punishment is the norm... well, I don't believe that one can sanction a form of punishment one is not prepared to carry out oneself. I..." he paused for a moment. "I'm going to spank you."

"Spank me?" The words broke her from her mental ramblings.

"Yes, Emma, spank you! Do you want it here and now, or at bed time?"

This was not anything Emma had considered - ever! However, again her lethargic depression took over and she found herself staring at the floor and saying, "Now!"

"Very well, take off your jeans, please," her father told her.

"What?" Emma exploded. "Why?"

"Because I told you to," her father said sharply. "It's obvious that your mother and I made a big mistake in not spanking you when you were younger and I'm going to make up for it now. You may be fifteen years old, but that isn't going to stop me giving you the bare-bottom spanking I should have given you years ago. Now - do as you're told!!!"

Flushing with embarrassment, Emma began to strip in front of her parents, tears starting to form in her eyes now.

"Please, Daddy. You can't spank my bare bottom - I'm too old!!" she whined.

"I can and I will," he replied matter-of-factly, sitting down on a stool, taking her hand and pulling her to him as she finally extracted her feet from the heavy denim. "We have a lot of lost ground to make up!"

Emma stood before her father now with her pussy covered only by a skimpy pair of red panties. Her father's hands reached out to grasp the waistband of her final protection firmly and then, with a tug, Emma's knickers were around her ankles, her young sex bared to her father and mother, and her face an even deeper shade of red than before.

Her mother seeing her naked was, of course, not that unusual. But her father had not seen her flowering body since she was eight or nine. She was acutely aware of what he was seeing - her

delicate triangle of wispy hair which crowned her juvenile, but not unexperienced, pussy. She felt the blood pumping round her face as a vision came unbidden to her mind; she saw herself lying on her bed with her thighs spread wide and her fingers rubbing and stroking her enlarged clitoris as her father stood at the foot of the bed, watching silently. As the image sharpened in focus, Emma felt a warmth and a dampness between her legs and her feelings of shame trebled instantly. She was almost pleased to hear the next command.

"Right. Come on young lady... over my knee!"

Although she'd never heard the phrase uttered by her parents it seemed, somehow, a very familiar entreaty to her and Emma at once moved round to her father's right and leant down over his thighs. Her unfamiliar position felt firm and comforting in contrast to what she knew was to come as she laid her own naked skin over his cotton covered legs.

"I'm going to give you twenty smacks with my hand," he said, resting his palm on his daughter's untamed bottom for a moment before raising it. I do hope it teaches you a lesson!"

With that, he lifted his hand high in the air and then, after what seemed like an eternity, he finally brought it down smartly across Emma's pale, tensed cheeks. The heat Emma had been guiltily experiencing between her legs was banished at once by the sharp sting of her father's big hand on her pale cheeks. She opened her mouth to scream, but for a few moments nothing came out. The only substantial sound was of four rapid slaps landing on her bared bottom - two on each side. Only once they had been delivered, and Emma's father had paused, did the wail trapped in her throat find its release.

At the yowl of agony, Mr Denning found his tentative conversion to this alien form of parental discipline solidifying somewhat and he continued the chastisement with redoubled force.

SMACKK! "Yeooooow! Daddy, it hurts... ouchh! Please, daddy, noooooooo!"

Ignoring, as far as he was able, his daughter's pleas for clemency, Emma's father went right on spanking her bare bottom hard with his hand until he reached sixteen. Then, Emma's sobs failing (to his own surprise and slight uneasiness) to move him one jot, he paused.

"Emma?" He spoke quietly, yet firmly.

"Yes, daddy," his red-bottomed girl replied tearfully.

"Why have I spanked you?"

There was no pause before the clear reply.

"Because I've not been doing my best at school and I've not been honest," she admitted.

Mr Denning looked across at his wife who was smiling broadly. Perhaps she really had been right all this time, he mused, and his daughter had really only wanted for a firm hand. Well, if this was the response a good spanking brought, he would stick with it.

"You are quite right," he answered her. "And what's more, young lady, as long as you reside under my roof, be that until you are sixteen or sixty, each and every exhibition of slackness or

mendacity will result in your panties coming off and your bare bottom paying the penalty. Do you understand me?"

Emma, during this last speech, had begun to cry. She had always thought of those of her friends whose parents spanked them as better off than those who, like herself, were grounded or punished in other non-physical ways. She was now becoming, very quickly, much less certain. And then to think that this was not to be a one-off! That her daddy was threatening now to put her over his knee again and again... as long as she lived there....!

"Do you understand?" The question was barked this time and accompanied by two huge swipes of Mr Denning's hand which straddled her cheeks and produced clear prints on her rosy bottom.

"Ohhhhh! Ohh! Yes, d..d..daddy," Emma managed to splutter as the last traces of puppy fat on her bottom and thighs set her bruised behind wobbling .

"Good!" Emma's father, although pleased to have discovered at last a successful mode of filial discipline, found himself feeling angry at his fifteen years of opposition to corporal punishment. He toyed for a moment with the idea of demanding that Emma submit to several further spankings before the following Monday when he would drive her to Katherine Parr's, to help to offset the trouble that she had caused his wife and himself over those years. One thing at a time, though. And he knew that in any case, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that the time would nonetheless come again when he would have cause to administer a bare-bottom spanking to young Emma. It would have to wait.

"Just two more," he said, breaking the silence which his thoughts had spun around the trio. Then he lifted his hand again and...

WHACK! "Ouuuucch!"

CRACK! "Yeoooow!"

Mr Denning left his sobbing daughter in place for a minute or two before requiring her to stand.

"Leave those where they are," he told her gently as she moved to retrieve her discarded panties. He took her by the hand and led her, still naked from the waist down, to the corner of the room and left her there - facing the corner.

"That," he said, gesturing towards his daughter's scarlet behind, "will serve to remind both of us of the new penalty for misbehaviour in this house!"

And with that, Mr Denning and his wife, left the room, their well-spanked offspring consoling herself with further tears in the corner as her still naked bottom radiated warmth.

Emma At School Chapter 2 - A Sight For Sore...

Four days after her first ever spanking, Emma was being driven to Katherine Parr School for Girls. She hadn't had to set foot in her old school again. She hadn't had to run the gauntlet of her friends' accusing glances - or face Steven. As they passed it by on that dull Monday morning, Emma gave it only a cursory glance - she was moving on.

She had managed to survive without the humiliation of any further bare bottom spankings from her dad; in fact, she had amazed her parents and herself with her immaculate behaviour since that first embarrassing occasion which she endured, knickers round her ankles, over her father's knee. Now there was just the case of Katherine Parr's infamous corporal punishment regime. In the 1990s, what with the Children's Act and everything, what leeway did schools have in the realm of physical discipline?

This and other more mundane thoughts occupied her mind until, after an hour's drive, her father turned the car onto the crispy gravel drive of Bronte House. Emma peered out of the window. The building didn't look as austere as she had expected. There were curtains in the windows upstairs (what she rightly assumed must be dormitories) and the large downstairs rooms, despite their size, had a look of warmth about them. Emma's anxiety began to diminish a little.

She felt more relaxed still when the housemaster, Mr Lindon, answered the door. He had a kindly face and Emma took to him at once, bubbling over enthusiastically when he asked her questions about her tastes and hobbies.

"Well," the teacher said after a while, "Let's get you settled shall we while I chat to your mum and dad? Say your goodbyes and then follow me."

Keeping inside the tears she could feel pricking at her eyes, Emma kissed her mum and dad, remembering her sore bottom of a few days ago when her dad whispered to her, "Be good!"

"I will," she promised him, turning then to follow her housemaster.

"Right, then," he said as they marched briskly through his private section of the house. "Let me introduce you to my study."

Emma thought that a slightly curious thing to say, but then she expected a little linguistic eccentricity from public school and simple trotted along after him and followed him through a big oak doorway. This, obviously, was his study. It was a medium sized, beautifully decorated room with potted plants and paintings scattered liberally around its many nooks and crannies. The large mahogany desk took up a huge amount of room, but helped to make the study feel warm and comfortable. Here and there were small models of vintage cars, and the walls were literally covered with books.

Emma, however, saw nothing of this. She saw only what was placed in the middle of the room. It was a construction made of black steel tubing and green padding which Emma might have mistaken for an exercise apparatus of some kind if only its function was not being so unambiguously demonstrated by the young girl strapped to it.

Although she couldn't see her face, Emma guessed the girl to be about her age. Her face was hidden from Emma's line of sight because she was bent over double away from the new pupil, grasping a bar at the other side of the contraption to which her wrists were fastened by velcro straps. She was kneeling on two padded rests which effectively forced her to maintain a position with her thighs permanently spread, and her lower thighs too were secured in place.

This information alone would have been sufficient to tell any onlooker that the construction was designed to assist in the punishment of naughty pupils. However, none of these details were part of what first struck Emma dumb as she entered the room. What did strike her were three things.

Firstly, that the girl bent over before her had her skirt up round her waist and her knickers neatly deposited on the floor, thus exposing her bare bottom and, due to the position of her knees, her youthful pussy. Secondly, that her bare bottom was adorned with five very angry looking, and clearly recently established, weals. And thirdly, that the weals in question had almost certainly been originated by the terrifying, four foot rattan cane lying impatiently on Mr Lindon's desk.

"How many more, Deborah?" the housemaster asked, not unkindly.

"One," the girl sobbed.

"Good," Mr Lindon said absent-mindedly. "I'll be back to finish you off after I've said goodbye to Emma's parents. No talking please, either of you."

Neither girl, given the situation, needed this final injunction to silence and, once the housemaster had left the room, Emma's mind finally began to draw some unpalatable conclusions from the scene before her. There were few options: either this was Mr Lindon's own daughter (or a pupil who was "special" in some other way), or her predicament represented at least one point on the scale of punishments to which Emmaâ' parents were now proposing to subject her. The latter was, she knew, the more likely as well as the more frightening, and she suddenly noticed that her hands had begun to shake.

She could hear the muted voices of Mr Lindon and her parents from down the corridor and wondered whether her parents would take her home if she told them of what was happening here in this room... but she knew inside that they would wholeheartedly approve. This was to be her fate. She inched closer to the bound girl. As her eyes roamed shamelessly over the victim's pale, but vividly striped, bottom and then dipped, uninvited, between her thighs she became aware of a dampness beneath her own cotton panties and flushed, glad that the girl could not see her face. She was bewitched by the completeness of the girl's submission, sex and bottom simultaneously offered up, her bonds making impossible any resistance.

Emma wanted to reach out her hand and run her fingers along the moist, silky slit provocatively presented to her, but instead she slipped her fingers under her own skirt and negotiated a passage inside her panties and then into her own wetness.

She heard Mr Lindon's footsteps just before he entered the room and pulled her hand from between her legs quickly, blushing heavily once again and hoping he hadn't seen. There was no way of telling from his impassive expression whether he had or not and Emma avoided his gaze and looked at the by now quite familiar bottom which, she knew, was now to receive the delayed climax of its punishment.

She looked on with a horrified fascination as Mr Lindon picked up the cane and then walked over to the girl, reaching down to offer her teeth something to bite down on before taking up his position. He stood to the left of her, the cane resting gently across both cheeks and seeking an unmarked area of flesh. Once satisfied, he widened his stance to better balance himself and then raised the cane slowly up into the air in a long arc.

Emma imagined herself now in the girl's place, bottom naked and vulnerable, sex parted and shamefully hot and moist. She watched as Mr Lindon's cane began the sweep down through the air, accelerating rapidly towards its target and creating a terrifying swishing sound as it gathered momentum and then suddenly....

THWACKKK! It struck! The girl's body jerked under the force of the blow and she bit on her scream, turning it into a agonized grunt as a new welt grew almost magically under the cruel caress of the rod.

Mr Lindon turned and replaced the cane on his desk and then, leaving the punished girl in place for the time being, addressed Emma in a level voice.

"Well now, Emma. Deborah here will look after you for the first week or so of your stay while you get to learn how we do things. Your parents have told me the reasons they've sent you here, perhaps you'd like to tell me yourself as well.

Emma felt awkward speaking in front of the half naked Deborah, and part whispered her reply.

"I... I was going out with this boy who they didn't approve of and I started getting into trouble... like not getting in on time and stuff and my dad said I needed somewhere with more discipline..."

At this, picturing herself once more under the housemaster's cane, she began to weep and Mr Lindonâs voice softened a little.

"And corporal punishment has never been part of your discipline at home?"

"Not... not before last week," Emma replied.

"What happened last week?"

"My dad... my dad spanked me," she answered.

"For the first time," the man completed her sentence. "How?"

"He... he made me take off my jeans and then he... pulled down my panties and put me over his knee. And then he spanked my bare bottom.

"With his hand?" Emma nodded in reply.

"How many?"

"Twenty."

Mr Lindon nodded his approval and then, rather than telling her about his school's regime he moved to unfasten Deborah's ties, helping her to her feet. Emma watched as the other girl slipped her panties back on, wincing a little as they rubbed against her raw markings and flushing all the time at the thought of what the new girl had just witnessed.

"Take Emma along to your study won't you, Deborah," he told her. "You can both sleep in the guest room this week while Emma's finding her feet."

Deborah nodded, tears still trickling one by one down her cheeks, and then smiled briefly at Emma and led her from the room silently.

Neither girl spoke until they reached Deborah's study which, by means of its tidiness and the posters and decorations on the walls, imparted a great deal of information to the new girl about her fellow pupil's tastes and character.

"I'm sorry I had to see you being punished," Emma ventured meekly.

"Me too!" Deborah snapped. Then, seeing the hurt expression on Emma's face, she relented. "Hey, I'm sorry," she said more gently. "I'm not angry with you - it's not as if you had any choice. Come on, let's get you unpacked."

As the girls made their way to the store room where Emma's cases had been parked temporarily, Emma tried to get some information out of her new friend about the punishment regime.

"So, does Mr Lindon often cane the girls here?" she asked.

Deborah stopped and turned towards the other girl, placing her hands warmly on her shoulders.

"Look, I'm sorry," she began, "but I'm not allowed to discuss any of the rules and punishments with you until you pass your House Test. I've got a rule book for you which will tell you most things, but I'll get into real trouble if anyone finds out I've spoken to you about punishment before you've passed."

She went on to explain what House Tests were. Basically, each new girl had to learn the school rule book inside out and be able to answer questions from the house captain at the end of her first week. She had to get every single question right to pass. Up until then, she was only allowed out of her study for chapel, meals, lessons and bed. Once she had passed, she would become a full member of house - and be assigned a sixth former to "fag" for. Emma had thought that fagging had only happened in boys' public schools - and that it had died out now anyway. It seemed that Katherine Parr was a school in a time warp!

After tea (Emma was surprised to find that the food served at the school was really good - plenty of vegetarian choices) Deborah left her alone with the rule book and told her that she was allowed to answer questions about what rules meant if she was unclear - but that was all. Emma got comfortable and began to read. Her comfort was short lived....

RULES

1. GENERAL These rules are to be strictly adhered to by all students. Punishment for rule breaking will on all occasions include corporal punishment, though additional sanctions may be applied as warranted by each particular case. Throughout these rules, a pupil who is to be punished shall be called the offender, and the pupil or teacher who gives the punishment shall be called the administrator. The rules set out, for each offence, minimum and maximum punishments which should be strictly adhered to except where extensions are provided for in section 4 of these rules.

Where a punishment is of a greater severity than the maximum permitted to any particular administrator, the punishment shall be referred to the appropriate authority at the necessary level. All punishments shall be administered to the bottom.

2. HIERARCHIES (in descending order)

2a. Implements (abbreviations)

Birch (B)

Cane (C)

Tawse (T)

Paddle (P)

Hairbrush (H)

Slipper (S)

Ruler (R)

Hand (X)

2b. Clothing (abbreviations)

Bare bottom (b)

Panties only (p)

One layer of clothing (1)

Fully clothed (f)

2c. Administrators (max punishment)

Headmaster (24Bb)

Housemaster/mistress (12Cb)

House captain (12Tb)

House tutor (20Pb)

Class teacher (40Pp)

School prefect (9Tb)

House prefect (15H1)

Dormitory monitor (6Sb)

General monitor (18Rf)

Note: max no of strokes doubled for each movement down the implement or clothing hierarchies (eg max punishment for School prefect is equivalent to 36Pp). Administrators may not use implement or clothing levels above that given as their maximum.

3. GUIDELINES FOR ADMINISTRATION 3a. Privacy

Bare bottom punishment should always be conducted in private, except where: - there are a number of co-offenders, in which case they may be punished together - there is an identifiable victim of the offence, in which case they may observe the punishment - it is decided (at house captain level or higher) that by conducting the punishment in public, other potential offenders may be deterred from similar offences - it is decided (at housemaster/mistress level or higher) that it is otherwise appropriate for the punishment to be observed by a third party - the offender's guardians have requested the medical officer's presence - the offender's guardians have requested that the punishment be administered in public

3b. Method

There are no specific requirements for the method of administration. In general: - offenders should be afforded a basic level of dignity - punishments should not be conducted in cruel or obscene ways - the duration of punishments should not be unreasonably extended

3c. Information to guardians

Guardians shall be notified of all punishments at the level of 6Cb or higher in advance of administration. Guardians may require: - a medical officer to be present - a medical inspection to be made before and after the punishment - a phone conversation with the offender prior to

administration In the event of a 3Bb punishment (or higher), the above conditions are mandatory.

3d. Appeals

Offenders may appeal against a punishment AFTER its administration. If the appeal is successful, double the equivalent punishment shall be voided in lieu at the next offence. If the appeal is unsuccessful, the punishment shall be repeated.

4. EXTENSIONS 4a. Refusal

Offenders who refuse to accept punishment shall, following one reminder of the appeals procedure, be liable to doubling of strokes, implements or clothing level for each refusal. Administrators shall refer punishments upwards if such doubling takes the punishment beyond their maximum.

4b. Denial

Where an offender denies an offence, following one reminder of the appeals procedure, their punishment shall be preceded by 6Xb (or 6Xp, 6X1 or 6Xf where this is the limit of the administrator's powers). This additional punishment shall be repeated as necessary until the offender agrees to accept the original punishment.

4c. Physical or verbal aggression

Where an offender becomes physically or verbally aggressive or abusive, the doubling procedure outlined in 4a shall be invoked.

4d. Three strikes and out

Following the third punishment for an identical offence within a three week period, an offender shall be referred upwards to the necessary level and receive an additional punishment of 12 strokes at two implement levels and one clothing level higher than the punishment administered for the offence itself.

5. RULES (min-max punishment) 5a. General conduct

Pupils shall not bring the school into disrepute (3Tp-6Bb) Pupils shall wear correct uniform (3Sp-2Cb) Pupils shall be polite and obedient towards teachers (6X1-6Cb) Pupils shall be polite to other pupils (6X1-3Cb)

5b. Lessons and work

Pupils shall attend all lessons on their timetable (3Pb-6Cb) Pupils shall behave sensibly and appropriately throughout lessons (6Pp-6Cb) Pupils shall complete all assignments on time (3Pp-12Pb) Pupils shall work hard throughout lessons (3Pf-20Pp) Pupils shall comply with all instructions given by their teacher (3Pf-20Pb)

... by this time Emma was lying on the couch in Deborah's study with tears flowing down her cheeks so quickly that she could no longer read the close-typed text. There were pages more of similar rules, creating a web of directions in which no girl could hope, surely, to remain unentangled.

Emma would have thought the book a practical joke if she hadn't already witnessed her room-mate receiving the last of six strokes of the cane on the bare bottom earlier that day. Now, as she read through the rules, the sense of apprehension that had stalked her then grew into a towering monster. She remembered her father's recent spanking of her and realised now that it had been nothing in comparison to what she could expect here!

She resolved, as every girl did on their arrival at Katherine Parr, to be a model pupil.

Suddenly the door burst open and Deborah came flouncing through, red in the face and swearing copiously. She ignored Emma completely and threw herself onto the room's other couch on her front.

Emma guessed at the probable source of her friend's distress and got up to approach her, caressing Deborah's hair gently.

"What happened?" she asked quietly.

"I'm not allowed to tell you!" the tearful girl snapped. "You know that!"

Emma ignored this unwarranted outburst and continued to stroke Deborah's hair.

"Can't you just leave me alone? It's not there it hurts!"

Deborah regretted her harsh words immediately, her tears flowing faster as her comforter got up and walked off.

"I'm sorry," she whined. "Emma, really...."

"That's OK," Emma answered without a trace of a rebuke. "You're quite right."

"About what?"

"That you're not allowed to tell me what happened and that it's not your head that hurts." She smiled. "I have a solution."

"What?" Deborah murmured, closing her eyes once more as Emma returned and hoping that she'd continue her tender caresses. What solution? she asked herself dozily, the pain in her recently paddled bottom making continued rational thought impossible. When she sensed her skirt being raised, at first she imagined that she was back in her house tutor's room, bent over his knee. Then she realised that it was Emma by her side, exposing her panties and lifted her head.

"Hey! What are you doing?"

"Just you lie still," Emma told her sternly, pushing her room-mate's head back down and finding, to her pleasure, that Deborah allowed herself to be thus placated.

When, next, Emma took hold of Deborah's panties and pulled them steadily down her legs and off her ankles, Deborah lay still, still in the mode of accepting obedience required during punishments in the school. Her fuzzy brain hoped only that Emma wasn't going to spank her, not recognising the unlikelihood of that.

"I've got this herbal cream," Emma explained now, rubbing a small quantity of the cold, white preparation on her palms. "It's brilliant for any external injury, like nettles and bruises and stuff. I can't see why it shouldn't work on your bottom."

She looked down now at Deborah's cheeks. The six welts given to her by Mr Lindon were still very much in evidence, but they were now swimming in a vivid sea of red which covered her whole bottom. She wondered if Deborah would talk just a little in her woozy condition.

"Paddle or slipper?" she asked nonchalantly.

"Paddle," Deborah admitted sleepily. "Ten whacks for not getting my homework done for Miss Pearson again. Bitch!"

"Careful what you say!" Emma warned her with a smile. "You don't know who might be listening!"

With that, she began to smooth the ointment into Deborah's sore behind, the girl wincing at first under her fingers, but then moaning with relief as the remedy began to have its effect. As she rubbed, Emma delighted in the feel of her friend's cheeks. She had only ever fancied boys - she thought - but their bottoms were horrible. Either too fat or too thin, too hairy or too pale.... But this, this olive-coloured, peach-shaped bottom was perfect; the skin smooth to the touch, responsive under the fingers.

"Ouch!" Emma caught a weal with her finger-nail and apologised profusely. Instinctively she bent down to kiss the injured part tenderly, being rewarded by a muted gasp from the girl beneath her. She began to kiss each of the red stripes laced across Deborah's bottom and, as she did so, she was aware of a creeping heat between her own thighs. She moved her face close to the place where Deborah's pussy lay hidden between her closed legs and smelt what she knew was female arousal. As she continued to kiss and caress her friend's bare bottom, Emma allowed one of her hands to slip between her own thighs and find her pussy, rubbing hard at her clitoris and closing her eyes.

As she neared orgasm, Emma stopped working on Deborah's body and Deborah remained silent as she felt the couch move slightly in rhythm to her friend's masturbation and heard the shallow gasps Emma made as she approached her climax. As she heard the other girl coming, Deborah crushed her pussy down on the couch, relieving just a little of her own tension, but wishing she had the courage to ask Emma to touch her pussy and make love to her. Like Emma, she considered herself to be straight - but unlike her she had had several relationships with other girls - all at school - and was enchanted, rather than disgusted, at Emma's obvious desire for her.

Emma had been taken by surprise by her sudden lust and, having come just once, she removed her hand from her knickers and continued to massage the cream into her friend's bottom, as if pretending that nothing had happened.

During Emma's first week at school, she neither received a spanking herself nor, apart from the caning she witnessed on her very first day, did she see one being administered. She suspected, correctly, that this was by design - as if spanking her would admit her to the world of Katherine Parr before she had passed her Test.

She crammed for it constantly; not being allowed out of the study she shared with Deborah, it was fairly easy to avoid distraction. Her isolation was completed by an injunction against other pupils entering Deborah's study during Emma's period of purdah.

She did have some contact with the school's corporal punishment regime though. Either Deborah was one of those kids who gets into trouble a lot, or punishments really were dished out left, right and centre. Emma's room-mate would roll in once, twice - sometimes three times a day, clutching her bottom with a tear-streaked face. When she did so, Emma would pick up her herbal cream and begin to smear the sweet smelling mixture over her hands while Deborah slipped off her panties and lay on the couch ready to have her spanking soothed. Emma tried each time to gauge what punishment her friend had received, although Deborah no longer confirmed her guesses. Strappings and canings were the easiest to spot because of the distinctive stripes left by their beatings and Emma was grateful to find that these were relative rarities.

Often, though, the only clue available was the vividness of the redness left by the administrator.

As the days passed, Deborah began to adopt a different posture for Emma's caresses. Claiming that the cream worked better when her skin was taut, she now knelt up on the bed with her bare bottom up in the air - just as if she were waiting for a spanking. Emma continued to keep the lid on the sexual part of her reaction to Deborah's flirtation, never refusing to get out the cream and never failing to become wet as she smoothed her hands over her friend's ready-warmed bottom, but never either letting her hands stray between Deborah's thighs.

On Saturday, the day before Emma's test, Deborah came back from a particularly heavy afternoon in floods of tears. She hadn't been caned (Emmaâs first thought) but had received a bare-bottom hand-spanking from a boy who was now a school prefect, but who had the previous year been Deborah's boyfriend. She had been really upset when he had dropped her and she still really fancied him.

Emma didn't even know that there were any boys in the school and Deborah explained that teachers' sons were allowed to attend and there were usually about two or three in each year at the school. They were given no special treatment and their presence did lead to some embarrassment for both boys and girls, given the punishment regime of the school. When boys deserved, in the sixth form, to be made prefects, they were - and were trusted not to abuse their right to remove girls' panties.

Today this particular prefect, Robbie, had caught Deborah skipping class and, despite her pleas to refer her, he had insisted on administering her punishment himself. He had also refused to listen to her entreaty not to bare her bottom because of their previous involvement.

"Don't be ridiculous," he chided her. "First of all, you can't expect prefects to give their ex-girlfriends special treatment, and secondly, unlike most girls I spank, I've already seen your bare bottom haven't I?"

"Yes, I know, but..." Deborah began.

"No buts! Come on, come to my study or I'll spank you out here on the lawn."

Deborah slouched along after this boy whom she still lusted after, who no longer wanted her, but who was now about to give her a bare bottom spanking. When they got to his study, Robbie sat down and contemplated his task.

"Of course, you should get an extension for your protests," he said. "However, I understand your reasons, so I shall simply adapt the punishment to persuade you of my determination to carry out my duties properly. You will strip to your panties, please!"

"No!!" Deborah screeched.

The prefect jumped to his feet, took her face in his hands and spoke quietly.

"If you make one more refusal, I shall double up twice and you'll be getting the tawse across your bare bottom. Now do as you're told!"

Crying steadily, Deborah started to remove her clothing, remembering the times she had gladly taken off her clothes for this boy and welcomed his fingers between her thighs. These memories flooded not only her mind but also her pussy and she knew she was getting wet enough for Robbie to see her arousal if she didn't keep her legs pressed tightly together.

Robbie's face was appreciative, rather than impassive, as Deborah unfastened her bra and slowly exposed her breasts. She found herself flushing with a humiliating pleasure that he still seemed to find her attractive, mixed with embarrassment at her hardened nipples: pert teats that Robbie's lips had often surrounded.

When she finally stood naked before him, except for her skimpy panties, Robbie beckoned her to him and ran his hands gently up her legs to the crotch of her remaining garment. Then, without actually touching her pussy, he took hold of the strip of cotton which passed between her legs and tugged downwards. Inch by inch, Robbie uncovered Deborah's triangle of blond hair and then continued his task until the girl's panties fell uselessly to the floor around her ankles. Then he took her hand and she stepped out of her knickers and allowed her ex- boyfriend to take her over his knee.

When his hand began to stroke her bare bottom, Deborah was unable to hold in a moan of sensual pleasure and she closed her eyes and scolded herself harshly as his hand travelled down to the top of her thighs, applying the gentlest of outward pressure, and Deborah responded, despite her earlier resolution, by parting her thighs until her soaking pussy was on full view.

Only then, when Robbie had demonstrated his total command of her, did the boy begin to punish her for skipping class. A full thirty-six hard smacks, covering every square inch of her cheeks and moving down to spank the back of her thighs towards the end of the punishment. Deborah howled and cried, and indeed the spanking was a fierce one, but the greatest pain was that this boy, who no longer wished to make love with her, was happy to use his power to strip and spank her.

Once he had finished, Robbie made her stand, still naked, in front of him for a final reproach.

"Before you go, you will thank me for punishing you," he told her. Any rebelliousness in her had been suppressed by the weight of his hand on her naked bottom and she replied meekly.

"Thank you for spanking my bare bottom," she said. "I should not have skipped class and I deserved to be punished."

"You certainly did. And be warned that I shall be keeping a very careful eye on you, young lady, over the next term. If you put a foot wrong, you can be certain I shall have you in here with your knickers off and over my knee. And it will be the strap you'll be feeling next time! Dismissed!"

Deborah had run back over the grounds to her own house and down the corridor to her study, falling into Emma's warm embrace and, breaking the rule for once, telling her friend about everything that had happened. Emma had responded by taking Deborah, bare bottomed, over her knee herself, but to soothe rather than spank her, rubbing the cream into her sore flesh with a deep sensuality and listening with delight to the moans and sighs of the girl beneath her hands.

On Sunday morning, Deborah kissed Emma tenderly and sent her off down the corridor to the house captain's study.

"Good luck!" she said. "You show them!"

"I'll try," Emma replied with a rather forced grin, before walking slowly down the corridor to the blue door at the far end that led to Amanda's study.

"Come! Ah... Emma, isn't it? Good. Sit down here and we'll begin at once. Ready?"

Amanda was a tall, imposing eighteen year old who would have kept the members of her house on a tight rein even if she hadn't been given the power to upend and spank them. As is was, no girl failed to give her the respect she demanded. In the room with the house captain were five other sixth-formers, all prefects. They sometimes asked the odd question, but principally the House Test was Amanda's responsibility.

"I... I think so."

"Fine. What can you get an extension for?"

"Er," Emma's mind went blank for a moment and she thought she was going to remember nothing. Then the words flashed into her head. "Refusal, denial, physical or verbal aggression, or three offences in three weeks."

"OK. What is the punishment for smoking?"

"A minimum of six strokes with the tawse on the bare bottom and a maximum of twelve strokes of the cane."

"Mm, hm. What is the maximum punishment a house tutor can give?"

"Twenty strokes of the paddle on the bare bottom."

The questions went on for fifteen minutes, the answers coming easily to Emma as her confidence built up. Then, as she sensed the test was coming to an end....

"How is a house public conducted?"

"A... a what?"

Emma knew that her response had made it impossible even for her to bluff now, but she knew she hadn't even read those words. She could see the interest of the prefects, sitting behind their leader, growing.

"A house public. Come on, it's in the appendix."

"Appendix? What appendix?"

Amanda, who had been smiling up until now, began to frown.

"The appendix at the back of the rule book. The last two pages."

"I... I..." tears were beginning to well up in her now. She had seen the appendix - she remembered now - but for some reason she hadn't thought it was part of the rules. Why hadn't she asked? She began to get desperate.

"I didn't know... I... can I have an extra day...?"

"You can have an extra three days," Amanda said. "You have failed I'm afraid, so you're still on restricted movement. You'll come back here at eight o'clock on Wednesday morning. And I would suggest you make sure you get every question right."

"I will. I promise. Can I go now?"

"Not yet, I'm afraid. There is something else I must attend to first. Stand up, please."

Emma stood shakily and watched as the house captain walked over to her desk and pressed a large red button on the wall. Then she opened a drawer and, to Emma's horror, took from it a long, stiff leather strap. She walked back over to where the younger girl was standing and held it so that Emma could see it clearly. It was some eighteen inches long and about two inches wide, dark brown in colour, and was cut into fingers at one end. The other end was bound into a short handle.

"Do you know what this is?" Amanda asked her sternly.

"Y... yes. It... it's a tawse," she whispered.

"And what is it for?"

"For..." she was weeping heavily now. "For giving punishments."

"Yes. For giving punishments. For spanking the bare bottoms of naughty young girls. And, as you will find, it is extremely effective. Kneel down please."

Emma at School Chapter 3 The cost of failure

Obediently, Emma knelt on the carpeted floor and closed her eyes, trying not to imagine what would happen next. What did happen was that the door opened.

"Deborah. Come in please."

Deborah? What was she doing there? Amanda went on.

"I'm sorry to tell you that Emma has failed her House Test. You know what that means?"

"Yes, Amanda," Emma's friend replied.

"Well?"

"The tawse. Eight whacks on the bare bottom."

Eight strokes on her bare bottom. Emma could hardly believe her ears and she felt tears running down her cheeks.

"Correct," Amanda continued. "Stand in front of Emma please."

Emma opened her eyes as Deborah approached her, wanting her friend to hug her, console her or, better still, persuade the house captain not to flog her. But she kept her mouth closed while Deborah walked up to stand right in front of her. Not only, it appeared, was she to be punished, but her only friend at the school, as well as the house prefects, was going to watch.

"Emma!"

At Amanda's sharp voice, Emma snapped her head up.

"Yes, Amanda," she croaked.

"Please remove Deborah's skirt."

"Wh... what?" Emma's mind was racing ahead, trying to work out what twist was being added to her punishment, but no clarification was forthcoming.

"Just do as you are told please, young lady."

Emma reached up and unfastened the clasps that held up Deborah's school skirt, dropping it to the floor. Her face was only inches from her friend's subtly bulging panties and, despite the circumstances, she felt a familiar twitching between her own thighs.

"Now pull her panties down, right to her ankles."

Something strange was happening here, Emma thought as she lifted her hands to the elastic waistband of Deborah's white cotton panties. However unlike you, dear reader, she lacked the distance necessary to recognise her error and still feared for her own bottom as she bared Deborah's pretty pussy and landed her panties on the ground.

It was only when Amanda gave her next instruction that the penny dropped.

"Good. Now, Deborah, feet apart please and move forwards a little for me. Emma, will you take a firm hold of Deborah's legs for me."

Deborah obeyed at once, spreading her thighs to give Emma an even better look at her slightly parted pussy lips and the pink secrets within and then, as Emma took hold of her legs, anticipating the next instruction by bending down over her friend to hold on to Emma's elbows. In spite of the fact that she had clearly brought about the tawsing of, not herself, but her friend, Emma could think of little at that moment but the sight and haunting scent of her friend's sex.

Again Amanda broke in on her personal thoughts.

"Until you pass your House Test," she said, a little regretfully, "I am not permitted to administer corporal punishment to you. You will, of course, receive a generous amount when you finally do pass, but in the meantime your friend Deborah will take the thrashing you have earned. Did you hear what that was to be?"

Emma felt a guilty blush rising to her cheeks as she stammered the answer.

"Er... eight stroke of the tawse on... on the bare bottom."

"Correct. Usually offenders count out the strokes as they are being beaten. As you are the offender, you will count please."

"Please..." Emma suddenly began, as if finally realising what she had brought down upon her friend. "Can't you just...."

"Silence!" Amanda ordered her. "Or Deborah, not you, will face additional strokes for insolence. "Count out loud please!"

And with that angry command, Amanda lifted the tawse high and swept it down in a long arc to crash loudly and forcefully across Deborah's bared bottom.

As her friend screamed with pain, Emma began to cry again, wondering whether Deborah would ever speak to her again, let alone continue to be her friend. Tearfully she whimpered the

first count.

"One!"

As the second stroke landed, Emma felt Deborah's body jump under the might of the blow and heard the jolt echoed in her loud screech of anguish.

I did this! Emma told herself. I might as well be wielding the strap myself! How will Deborah ever be able to forgive me?

THWACK! "Oooohh!"

Tears from Deborah's eyes began to fall onto Emma's bare calves as she counted out the strokes, Deborah's pain given voice in her desperate sobbing as she endured the punishment for her trainee failing the House Test.

Then, as Deborah's bare bottom was strapped for a sixth time, Emma became aware of a strong, sweet scent and realised to her surprise that it was the smell of her friend's arousal - the same smell she had delighted in on the several occasions when she had soothed Deborah's well-spanked cheeks.

Could she really be getting turned on by this cruel spanking? Could this vicious flogging really be warming not only Deborah's behind, but also her pussy. Emma's own wetness (which had not surprised her) now increased as she contemplated her friend's sexual response to being beaten and she imagined herself in Deborah's position - bent over with her knickers off and receiving Amanda's robust attention. Surely all she would feel would be the burning pain of the strap? Surely she wouldn't find her sex crying out for attention in the way her friend's pussy was now?

CRACK! "Noooh!"

In her reverie, Emma almost forgot to call out "Seven!" as Deborah's scream of agony cut through her mind, her whole body on fire now as the different aspects of this electrifying event intermixed with each other.

Deborah's arousal was unmistakable now. Her pussy's wetness was visible to Emma from her position between the other girl's thighs (and therefore visible too to Amanda as she wielded the strap!)

She watched as Amanda's tennis-trained arm lifted the leather high above her head for a final time and pulled it sharply through the air.

Emma followed the tawse with her eyes as it snaked down across her roommate's buttocks, cursing her position as she couldn't watch the impact and the unravelling of the new weal she knew must have been left by the stroke. For the last time (for this session at least) Deborah's mouth opened and her voice exploded bitterly around the room.

"Eight!" yelled Emma in response.

Amanda said nothing for the moment, but walked back to her desk to replace the tawse in its hiding place, leaving Deborah half-naked and exposed. Emma desperately now wanted to lean forwards to taste the sweet-smelling juices whose scent was still infusing her confused mind. However, she simply waited for Amanda to issue her next instruction which she did almost immediately.

"Stand up, Deborah," she said. "You need to get back to educating your trainee don't you? I'd hate to have to call you back here again on Wednesday. And anyway, I want to be able to have the opportunity of putting young Emma over my knee, so you need to ensure she passes. Understand?"

"Yes, Amanda," Deborah replied, still standing in front of her friend and naked from the waist down, her swollen clitoris peeking inquisitively from the folds of her sex.

"Good. You can replace your skirt... but no panties until your charged has passed, I think. Just to remind you of the importance I attach to it. OK?"

"Yes, Amanda."

Deborah pulled her skirt on and silently left the room with Emma following, head-bowed, behind. Her friend was being deprived of her panties too - as well as getting the strap. And all because of her. She began to weep again as they approached Deborah's study.

"What are you snivelling about?" Deborah demanded.

"I... I'm sorry... I'm sorry for...." Emma began.

"Oh don't bother with your pathetic excuses. Just learn that fucking book!"

And with that, Deborah threw herself onto her couch face down and began, heaving gently, to cry her eyes out. Emma gingerly tried stroking her hair, but Deborah slapped her hand away and grunted loudly. Emma had screwed up good and proper. Deborah was her only friend at the school and it was beginning to look as though she may have lost her though this horrible business.

"Deborah..." she whispered. "Deborah!"

"What do you want, you little shit?"

"I... I wanted to ask... I mean, are you... will you still be my friend?"

Deborah sat up sharply, her tears held back for the moment.

"Are you serious?" she asked.

"Of course... I mean, I don't know anyone here and..." And again Emma collapsed in tears.

"Listen Emma," Deborah said a little less harshly.

"Yes?"

"Have you just had your bare bottom strapped?"

"N... no. What do..."

"So just SHUT THE FUCK UP! I've got the reason to cry, not you!"

Emma flinched at the blow.

"I'm really sorry, Deborah. Really I am."

"Yeah, really!" Deborah retorted.

"I am. Can... can I rub some cream on you?"

Deborah's look was withering.

"And what makes you think I'd want you near me, letting alone smearing your grubby hands over my bare bum?"

"I just... I don't know anyone... I don't have any friends...."

As Emma dissolved once again, Deborah felt her heart softening a little. But she wasn't ready to let the new girl off just yet.

"Deborah?"

"Yes?"

"Would you... if I... would you let me be your friend if I let you..." She looked Deborah in the eyes and then looked down, "If I let you spank me."

Deborah wasn't ready for that and had to check herself to stop her from jumping around the room excitedly.

"Spank you?" she asked, with a vaguely interested tone.

Emma just nodded.

"Hmmm. I suppose that might make a difference. A bare bottom spanking?"

"Yes... OK," Emma agreed.

"Let's see... twelve whacks with... with whatever I want."

Emma recalled Deborah's wailing under the cane and tawse and recoiled a little.

"Couldn't you just spank me with your hand?"

Deborah found that idea particularly delicious, but didn't let on.

"I don't know about that.... OK, I'm prepared to agree to forty smacks with my hand... and also six with the instrument of my choice?"

Emma realised that this was an increase in the scale, but nodded her assent anyway.

"Ok, Deborah. Wh... when do you want to do it?"

"I'm not sure. Whenever and wherever I want, though. Agreed?"

"Yes."

"Good. Now, what about my bottom rub?"

Emma was surprised at how pleasant Deborah was being now, unaware of quite how many times the other girl had masturbated herself to sleep while fantasising about spanking Emma's bare bottom.

She responded by beginning to remove her friend's clothing and Deborah allowed her to strip her completely, not questioning the need for her breasts to be bared for a bottom massage.

Emma led Deborah over to the couch and placed her as she wanted her: on her knees with her bottom facing out into the room and, again with no protest, with her knees a full two feet apart.

Taking her tube of cream, Emma knelt between her friend's feet which projected out over the edge of the couch and, as she rubbed a good quantity over her palms she looked, for the third time only, upon Deborah's pussy. Although, following the advice of her mum's women's magazines, Emma had inspected her own genitals with a mirror, she had never thought of female sex organs as "beautiful". But now, her face only inches from her friend's glistening pink folds, she found herself transfixed by every crevice. She could see Deborah's clitoris, enlarged like a tiny fat finger, and wanted so much to slide her own digits through the warm wetness of her and to caress that eager button.

Instead she began to smooth her cream over Deborah's bottom, but this time her hands began quite soon to roam down over the girl's thighs and then between them. She managed to restrain herself for a full five minutes before, responding to Deborah's moans and her wiggling bottom and her own mounting desire, she finally allowed a single finger to stray, as if lost, away from the pinkness of the girl's bottom and into the pinkness of her slit.

This tiny action changed everything between them. Deborah let out a long sigh of intense pleasure and Emma's response appeared one hundred percent natural, she fell into her friend's arms, her mouth seeking out Deborah's and her hand homing in on her sex.

Two fingers slid easily deep inside Deborah's vagina, Emma's thumb finding her clit and circling it repeatedly. At the same time, Deborah began to pull at Emma's clothing and, within minutes, both girls were completely naked and licking and stroking each other's bodies with the passion created by a week's steadily growing arousal.

Although Emma had never experienced an orgasm at the hands of another, and Deborah only very rarely, they both came quickly and noisily, continuing their lovemaking through further climaxes until each was completely exhausted and they lay, covered in sweat, entwined in each other's arms. In the mind's eye of each girl there was now playing a very similar sequence of images.

Emma having her panties pulled off. Deborah pulling Emma over her knee. Emma's skirt being raised to bare her pale, young bottom. Deborah lifting her hand and beginning to give Emma only the second bare bottom spanking of her life.

Emma At School Chapter 4 Asking for it

Nothing was said about Emma's punishment until the morning when the girls awoke next to each other in one of the two narrow single beds in the guest room.

"Mmmmm." As Emma's senses stirred, she became aware of the soft, warm flesh next to her and nuzzled happily against Deborah's breasts.

"I thought you'd never wake up," her lover replied, running a finger down Emma's spine.

"Tired," Emma answered with closed eyes and a relaxed smile, giggling then as Deborah's hand slipped between her legs and roused her pussy, her thighs parting to welcome the touch.

"Oohh, that's nice," she whispered, kissing Deborah's nipples lightly and luxuriating in the snug feel of two fingers lodged deep inside her while her girlfriend's spare hand approached her sleepy clitoris.

"Good," Deborah cooed. "I need you awake so that I can begin the first part of your spanking."

"F... first part," Emma stammered, the warmth in her pussy making conversation difficult. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I didn't say anything about everything happening in one go. I mean, forty hand smacks and six with... well, something else - that could keep me going for days."

"You've only got two," Emma reminded her.

"Yes. A pity," Deborah agreed. "So... better start now then."

"Now?" Deborah's fingers were still stroking her sex deliciously and she rather hoped that her lover might finish what she had started, rather than.... But no. Suddenly her pussy was abandoned and she was left only with a damp emptiness and the promise of a sore bottom.

"What are you going to use?" Emma asked, thinking that getting it over might be the best tactic.

"Well.... difficult," the other girl replied. "I'd love to strap or cane you... but if you do pass your Test on Wednesday then your cute little bum isn't likely to stay covered for very long and we don't want any marks, do we? So - go and look in the top drawer over there please."

Emma obediently got out of bed and, naked still, walked across the room to the desk, Deborah enjoying the sight of her well-proportioned body as she moved. Emma pulled back the drawer and lifted out the table-tennis bat within. It was one of those old-fashioned ones: basically a bit of wood with a bumpy plastic covering on each side. She felt the blood rushing to her head as she turned, holding the implement, to her lover.

"With... with this?" she asked quietly.

"Indeed. Hand it to me please."

Emma handed over the heavyish bat and waited for her instructions. Somehow she felt anticipation rather than fear and the heat between her thighs wasn't abating either.

"Does... does this turn you on?" she asked. "You know.. spanking me?"

Deborah replied by crooking her finger to draw Emma nearer and then guiding the girl's hand down to her own sex, Emma fingers finding her hot, slippery and accommodating.

"Do you mind?" Deborah asked her.

"No. I just wondered. What do you want me to do?"

"Normally, I'll spank you over my knee. However, I want this first one to really hurt so I'll need a bit more swing. Face the desk, legs wide apart, and bend over. No, hang on."

She trawled through a couple of drawers until she found a clean white handkerchief.

"Can't have any screams, can we?" she observed, handing the makeshift gag to the other girl.

Emma bit on the hanky and then followed the earlier instructions, for the second time in two weeks presenting her bare bottom for chastisement - this time at the hands (and bat) of a girl her own age. She didn't have long to ponder, however, for Deborah wasted no time in lining up her shot and swinging the bat like an Olympic ping-ponger (or is it ping-pongist?). It flashed through the air and slammed into Emma's exposed cheeks like a locomotive.

"Mmphhh!" Emma howled ineffectively through the gag as the sharp sting of the bat shot through her bottom, its afterglow reminding her of the time she'd had to pee while walking in a local wood as a little girl with her parents and had crouched down atop a clump of stinging nettles.

WHACK! WHACK!

The gag not only prevented Emma from screaming at the pain being inflicted on her by her "friend", it also stopped her from begging and pleading to be spared the last three strokes with the bat. If she had been in a fit sense to reason she would have recognised that this bottom-warming was extremely mild compared to what was often dished out at Katherine Parr - mild, in

fact, compared to the punishments that Emma herself had watched being inflicted on Deborah.

Deborah would no doubt have argued, correctly surely, that her spanking of Emma in this way would help to acclimatise her to the school's regime and that, in any case, it was in no way exceptionally severe. Because of the gag, however, Deborah didn't have to consider the question - in fact she only wondered whether she might not have been rather over-lenient.

Certainly there was a pleasing red glow to her lover's bare bottom, but only six strokes? She had better make sure the last three really counted.

Emma noticed the difference. Having mistakenly thought that she was experiencing ping-pong punishment at its hardest, Deborah was now pointing out her error most effectively and causing Emma to bounce around in a very unladylike manner under the fierce attention of the bat, ceasing only after the delivery of the sixth stroke.

"You may remove the gag and dress now," Deborah said in a businesslike tone.

"Thank you," Emma snivelled having freed her voice and then finding that dressing was not a painless affair either - not when you've chose to wear tight panties and your bottom has been well spanked.

"There remain forty hand-smacks," Deborah reminded her. "That's six sessions of six smacks - plus four for me to use now in your training."

"Tr... training," the half-dressed girl stammered in reply.

"Yes. I will choose the setting for three of those spankings, on the other three occasions you will ask me to punish you. Understand?"

"Yes, Deborah." Her friend's voice told her that complaint was not an option.

"Of the three spankings you request (all before tomorrow night, of course,) one must take place out of doors. When I choose to spank you, you will obey at once, regardless of the situation. Is that absolutely clear?"

"Yes, Deborah."

"Good. Now, sometimes I will ask you to strip to receive your punishment, at other times simply to "prepare". We'll practice the latter one now. When asked to prepare, you must remove your panties and lift your skirt to your waist. Then you come and stand before me with your legs apart and a hanky in your mouth so that I may touch you if I wish. When I give the command you will bend down over my knee and I will take care of the rest. So - prepare!"

Emma wanted to beg to be spared this further spanking, yet she also wanted to please her lover and she dutifully slipped her panties to the floor once more, stuffed the same handkerchief in her mouth and stood as instructed in front of Deborah, pussy exposed and open.

"Very good," Deborah noted, choosing (to Emma's frustration) not to play with her. "Now, over my lap, young lady."

Following the scenario, Emma laid herself across Deborah's knee and felt her friend shifting her around a little to ensure she was able to get a good shot. Then she stroked Emma's bare bottom one or twice and lifted her hand.

"Naughty girls get punished at this school. It's time you learned that," Deborah intoned, slapping hard at Emma's neatly turned up cheeks. "And what's more, if you fail your house test this time, I'll be taking the cane to you. Do you understand that, missy?"

"Nnngghh!" Emma gurgled through her full mouth, nodding her head vigorously as her bottom was smacked again.

"And if you pass, in addition to all the other punishments you receive you will submit to up to four spankings per week from me during your first three months. Six smacks on the bare bottom on each occasion. Agreed?"

Again, following the question and the harsh smack which accompanied it, Emma nodded her head, despite the fact that she was now agreeing to a massive heightening of the stakes.

"Good girl, Emma," Deborah said quietly. "One more smack and you can get ready for lessons."

She slipped a finger into the warm crevice between her friend's thighs and waited for Emma to respond with a thrust of her hips before sliding her finger quickly out and administering the final hard slap.

All through morning lessons, Emma found herself unable to think of anything but her warm bottom and the certainty that the heat in her cheeks would soon be topped-up. She failed to answer most of the teacher's questions and she could tell by the look on his face that he was extremely annoyed not to be able to take the paddle to her. She couldn't tell that he was logging her poor performance with a view to "settling up" at a later date.

At lunch time Emma sped back to Deborah's study and was disappointed to find her friend not yet back. Still finding her new situation like a long dream, Emma's actions seemed to be following a plan over which she had no control. She reached beneath her school skirt and slipped her panties off quickly and then got out the rule book which she dropped onto the couch.

Next she collected the various cushions together and piled them up in the centre of the couch. Finally, Emma climbed up onto the couch, hiking her skirt up past her waist and leaning across the pile of cushions. In this position, she would be able to read and re-read the rule book while she waited for Deborah to come back and then, when the door opened and her lover entered the room, she would hardly need to ask for the first of her six spankings.

Deborah was impressed. She'd not had a good morning (and in fact had got her own bottom paddled in class) and was ready to call Emma across her knee anyway. However, Emma's planning had meant that the spanking she received was given, not in anger, but in loving thanks.

Not that it didn't still hurt. Deborah was an impressive spanker and Emma had not yet begun to develop the tolerance of her classmates so Deborah managed to bring tears to her friend's eyes by the time she had finished.

Five more spankings followed in the next two days, the last one at 8pm on Tuesday leaving a gap of 12 hours before Emma's second attempt at the House Test. Emma had reserved her one open-air spanking for this final session and Deborah readily agreed to Emma's suggestion of a walk in the neighbouring fields. She equally gladly accepted the skirt and panties offered to her a couple of miles from school and helped Emma into place over the rickety wooden stile they had reached. For once, Emma could allow herself to cry out as Deborah smacked her bare bottom hard and Deborah's smile reflected the pleasure she gained from this aspect of the punishment.

And after she had given her friend a sound spanking, Deborah pulled Emma down into the long grass and the two girls made love deliciously for almost an hour.

On Wednesday morning, Emma woke early in comfort and lay still for a while with her arm around Deborah. She lifted the sheet covering them to look over her soft, rounded body and, feeling the dampness gathering in between her legs, longed to plunge her face into her friend's pussy - yet she knew that she would have to wait until after she'd passed her test. And there was no doubt in her mind that, this time, she would.

"OK, let's start in the most obvious place," Amanda began.

Two hours had passed since Emma first opened her eyes and she had spent much of that time bathing and grooming herself in preparation.

The house captain continued, "How is a house public conducted?"

This was the question on which Emma had faltered last time. Now she was almost able to quote the rule book word for word.

"A house public is the term given for a punishment administered in public by the offender's house captain or house master or mistress. Such punishments shall be given immediately after evening roll call. No pupils may be excused from watching. The offender shall be fully naked and shall be tied to a punishment horse (like the one Emma had seen Deborah tied to on her first day at the school). Following the administration of the punishment, the offender shall be left in position, on display, for fifteen minutes before being released and allowed to dress."

Emma's answers to the rest of Amanda's questions were equally accurate and Amanda was soon satisfied that she had fully learned the rule book.

"Well done," she said. "You've passed. I now want to say a few things to you about the ways in which your time here will now be different."

Amanda looked at the younger girl with a quizzical look and then continued:

"While I'm speaking, you may as well undress."

Emma had expected a spanking for her initial failure at the Test but was still unnerved by the thowaway line.

"Do I... everything?" she asked.

"Yes please," Amanda replied. "I'd prefer it."

As Emma stripped off her school uniform, Amanda sat in a large, blue, well-padded armchair and talked about the dormitory regime and other aspects of the school that Emma had not yet experienced. She told her about how to accept punishments from teachers in class and informed her that a number of teachers had spankings saved up for her already.

As Emma shyly pulled her panties down, the house captain got up and fetched the strap from her drawer, pleased to note the lack of surprise on the young girl's face.

"You were expecting this?" she asked.

"Yes," Emma looked into the powerfully-built older girl's face and felt almost overawed by her poise and beauty. "I thought that I'd probably still be punished for failing the Test last time."

"Yes. You're right, of course," Amanda replied. "And, if I'm truthful, I like to be the person to initiate our new girls into the ways of the school."

The house captain walked up close to the new girl and took her nervous-looking face in her hands, kissing her tenderly on the forehead.

"Are you ready?" she asked.

"I think so."

"Good. Often when you come to me to be punished, I'll tell you to bend over my desk or something similar to allow me a better swing. However, for your first spanking I'd like you over my knee please."

Amanda took Emma's hand and led her across the room to a straight backed chair. Smiling to herself she sat down and then took the good-looking youngster across her lap for the first time. "I hope you're comfy," she thought to herself as she lifted the strap. "This is going to become a

very familiar posture."

-- Continues in Part 2 --