Chapter 1

 

 

"You know the rules, Missy."

Dean of Students Emily Winters called all of the students at Yorkshire's Argonne School for Girls "Missy." Some of the girls said it was because she'd gone senile and couldn't remember anyone's name. But Diane Atherton knew Dean Winters was no fool.

The cute teenager with straight blonde hair that reached halfway down her back stood before the imposing figure, her head hung low. "Yes, Mrs. Winters."

"This is your third infraction this term, you know." The tall, slender, fifty-something woman seemed to enjoy Diane's humiliation. It wouldn't surprise her that the dean lived to torment her students. Mrs. Winters had been a fixture at the school since the late 1940s and her husband, a retired Army man, had died years ago. What else would she do?

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Winters. It wasn't my fault-"

"Ahh, the bleatings of the innocent. It's always someone else's fault, isn't it? I swear, you hippie kids today can never accept blame for anything!"

"But I'm not a hippie, Mrs. Winter!. Suzanne told me-"

"That's enough." Her hand went up, silencing the eighteen-year-old girl. "I've talked to everyone involved. Don't think for a minute that you're the only one receiving punishment."

"But I was just standing there-"

"I said, that's enough!" Mrs. Winters sighed. "You're going to graduate in a couple months - is this what you've learned here? That it's okay to flout authority? I wonder what your mum would say about your behavior? She'd probably be mad at Argonne for not teaching you better."

Diane felt a tear form in the corner of one eye and cursed her luck. She had just been standing in the wrong place at the wrong time when it had happened! Suzanne had told her Beatrice was playing a joke on Enid and she should come watch. She had been in the room only a few minutes, just long enough to see the bucket of pillow feathers rain down on the poor dumb Enid, when Mrs. Samuelson caught them all and sent them back to their dorm rooms.

The other girls had already been dealt with - minor penalties to all, for this had been their first infractions. Now, two days later, Diane had been called in to face her punishment, which she knew would be more severe. Dammit, it wasn't fair! Sure, she'd violated the rules twice before, but they were silly rules and she hadn't meant to anyway. These things just seemed to happen to her. She'd always been good, since she had first arrived here when she was ten. She had obeyed the rules and never gotten into serious trouble.

Only during her last year here had she strayed. Call it teen-age rebellion or call it hormones. Maybe she did have a bit of hippie in her - she'd read about some of the anti-war protests by pot smoking college kids, although she had never done anything like that! For whatever reason, she had had a lot more trouble her final year obeying all their bloody rules!

Remembering her first visit to Mrs. Winters had been an eye-opening experience. She had stood in this very spot not three months ago, quaking before the imperious dean, wondering what might happen to her. In addition to being tall, Mrs. Winters had the palest blue eyes Diane had ever seen. Matched with graying hair that she kept in a no-nonsense bun, the dean looked merciless. She thought of calling her mum for help, but knew she'd support the school.

"Good schools aren't cheap," her mum would've told her. "Stop messing around and abide by the rules and finish your education!"

When Mrs. Winters had first outlined how punishments worked at Argonne, Diane had thought she might wet her pants.

"The first infraction is five strikes with the cane, through your skirt," Mrs. Winter had said, swishing the supple cane through the air as Diane looked on, horrified. "It's really no punishment at all, merely a wake-up call. You'll bend over my desk, on your elbows, and I'll give you your punishment."

"A-are you allowed to do that?" Diane had asked, thinking there must be a ban on such barbaric practices.

Mrs. Winters had pulled herself up to her full, six-foot height and laughed. "Of course we can! Your parents saw the rules when they signed up. If they didn't agree, there are far more liberal schools they could've sent you to!" She had mouthed the word "liberal" as if it had been a curse word.

She had moved closer to the quaking girl. "What you have to keep in mind is that the punishments increase if you continue to flout the rules in any given semester. If I see you in here again, your next session will entail ten swats with the cane through your knickers!"

Diane had been shocked speechless. That had sounded, well, dirty. She had had no experience with sex, although her imagination had run rampant on occasions, especially after she had turned sixteen.

"And if I see you in here a third time, well, I hope I don't, because the punishment is fifteen swats with the cane on your bare bum!"

Oh, that was just perverse, Diane remembered thinking. Surely no one had actually been caned like that! She could have her reported, couldn't she?

But it had been true, all of it. Her parents had signed off on the rules when they had sent her here eight years ago. She had accepted her first caning and the old bird had been right, it hadn't hurt too much. Her skirt had protected her from most of the sting. Still, it had been embarrassing, bent over like that while Mrs. Winters had swatted her. Thank god no one else had been in the room.

The second time she had violated the rules, Diane had been quite nervous, but remembering how relatively easy her first session had gone, she hadn't been too worried. But oh, how that cane had stung when only her knickers had protected her pale white bottom! And ten strokes seemed like a hundred when she had to just brace herself and take it, her skirt tucked up under her belt. She had started crying at stroke four and was begging by stroke seven, wiggling her bottom all around and screaming. By the time Mrs. Winters had finished, Diane had nearly passed out from the pain. Her ass had remained well-marked for a week.

What she hadn't told anyone, however, was the other feeling the spankings had given her. It wasn't something she could understand, but the caning had made her loins so hot that she had to touch herself the moment she had gotten into the closest loo and locked herself into a stall. Her sore bum prevented her from sitting on the toilet, so she just stood, her skirt held up and her knickers pushed down and touched the shiny button that protruded from her "naughty bits" in front. She had rubbed it just a few seconds before she achieved a shuddering climax, letting out a little squeal of delight. She had fallen against the stall wall and hoped no one had heard.

God! That had been lovely! It certainly didn't make up for the spanking, but the orgasm had been the most intense of her young life. She knew a little about such things, of course, just from listening to the gossip of the other girls and had managed to give herself a few orgasms at her own hand, but none had approached the power of that one.

Now, standing before Mrs. Winters for the third time in as many months, Diane both dreaded and was frankly curious about what was to come. The pain, she knew, would be horrible. She might even pass out. But would it translate into that funny feeling that had led to a bone-jarring orgasm? She found herself growing wet at the very thought.

"Do you know, in all my years as dean, how many girls I've had in here who have faced me three times in one semester?"

"N-no, ma'am."

"Exactly nine, including you. Not too many come back after their second session."

"But Mrs. Winters, I didn't-"

"Enough! I've heard your bleatings, your excuses. You were caught and you're going to be punished." She picked up the cane.

"Please, Mrs. Winters, I can't take that many!" Not on my bare bum!

"Trust me, you'll take your punishment, one way or the other. That's the rules. Now bend over my desk."

Diane didn't know what she meant, "one way or the other." Was there an alternative? Mrs. Winters grabbed her neck when she didn't immediately obey and forced her head down on the blotter. She whimpered, but stayed in position. She felt the dean move behind her and flip up her skirt, then tuck it into her belt. God, she was embarrassed! But her humiliation increased when the woman tugged down Diane's white cotton knickers and let them fall to the floor.

"Lift your legs and step out of them," she commanded and Diane obeyed, her mind petrified with fear.

Mrs. Winters came close to Diane's face and leaned down. "Now, you are going to scream bloody murder," she whispered. "So I'm going to gag you." Before Diane could react, the dean had shoved her damp knickers into her mouth! She tried to pull them out, but Mrs. Winters grabbed her arm. "Would you like me to tie your hands behind your back?"

Diane shook her head.

"Then leave them in. You'll need them." She moved back, out of her vision and Diane waited, her legs trembling, her pussy tingling.

The first blow caught her by surprise. Whish-slap! "Mmmpphhh!" She screamed into her gag, now grateful it was there. The pain rocketed up from her bottom to her head, then ricocheted down her legs, making them rubbery. Without even the thin protection of her knickers, the cane seemed to set her bum on fire.

The second blow came and Diane knew she'd never make it to fifteen. No way. She screamed again and started to stand up, her hands moving behind her to protect her tender ass. Instantly, Mrs. Winters was on her at once, grabbing her neck to force her back down. She took a bit of cord from her pocket and tied Diane's wrists together behind her back. She lay with her breasts pressed against the blotter through her thin blouse and cotton bra.

"You can't protect yourself, Missy. You broke the rules and now you must pay the price. Maybe next time you'll think twice before you run roughshod over Argonne's traditions!"

Diane was shaking her head now, damning Suzanne, damning Beatrice and especially damning this horrible school. She wanted to go home. She wanted to curl up in her own bed, surrounded by her teddy bears, and go to sleep for a month.

The third blow came, arching her back up and dropping her back down on the desk, hurting her breasts. Her chin banged on the blotter, causing stars to shoot through her brain. She thought she might pass out.

It was the fourth blow that achieved that milestone. Diane felt the pain wash over her before she slumped down. She didn't remember hitting the floor.

She awoke a few minutes later and found herself cradled in Mrs. Winter's lap. She was lying on the rug in front of her desk. Her knickers were gone from her mouth. Her hands were untied.

"Oh, my, I don't think you're going to be able to take your punishment if you pass out so easily," the dean said softly, hugging her to her chest, rubbing her hands over her body. Diane, who was lying on her side, found comfort in her abuser's arms. Her ass boiled with pain, but that funny feeling had returned to her pussy. She wished the dean would touch her there, even as she was shocked by the thought.

She realized she was still naked from the waist down, although her skirt had partially flipped down to cover her. She wanted to reach underneath her skirt and touch herself, just for a second.

"Only four strokes and you pass out!" Mrs. Winters was saying. "I guess we'll have to come up with another punishment."

"Oh, please, Mrs. Winters, yes. Let's do. I can't take that any more. My bum hurts terribly!"

"Well, you're not the only one, that's to be sure," she told her. "I thought you girls were made of tougher stuff. But I guess I was wrong. Why, in my day, we'd stand there and take our fifteen whacks and not move a muscle!"

Diane couldn't believe it. "Y-you got punished?"

"Oh, yes - once. Then I learned my lesson. Never again."

"What did you do?"

"It doesn't matter. What matters is, I had to stand just where you were standing and take it. And I did." She helped Diane to her feet. Her legs were so rubbery, Diane thought she might fall down again.

"Now, you know that I owe you eleven more strokes..."

Diane gasped. "But you said there was an alternate punishment! I'll take that!"

"Very well. But you're not going to like it any better, I'm afraid."

Diane's heart thumped. "W-what is it?"

Mrs. Winters went to the drawer and pulled out a strange object. It looked like short lengths of soft cotton rope, dyed black, all tied together at the base to make a thick handle. The ends were frayed, exposing soft strips of batting within. It didn't look like it would hurt her bottom all that much, she thought. It certainly was an improvement over the cane!

The dean held it up. "This is a pussy whip."

Diane couldn't believe her ears. She backed away. "No!"

"Now I told you you wouldn't like it! But that's the alternative. If you'd rather I continued the caning, we'll do that."