The Caning Headmistress

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The truth was that if Thomas Attwood had not been a particular favourite amongst the students of Grey House then his housemistress, Miss Sternwood, would have been unlikely to have proposed such an unorthodox ultimatum. It is often said that we hurt the ones we love the most, and it works both ways, but despite what the old headmaster's cliché might suggest, in reality it always hurts most in exactly the place we would expect. I thought for a moment, but in reality I was already under her spell, and being enticed into her world and her way of thinking. I knew ‘petulant’ was an accurate way of describing my behaviour towards them, much of the time. I knew I would frequently choose to be childish and selfish. I knew that I shirked jobs around the house, and didn’t help out as much as I should. The half-beliefs and excuses I had used, convinced myself of, and hidden behind so much recently, were lying in tatters on the floor, and I could see their pathetic futility and smell their stink of faux self-righteousness. I was properly embarrassed by my own immaturity. All weekend I was worried about what was going to happen and on Monday morning I was more careful than usual to make sure that I was wearing the correct school uniform. She arrived home an hour late having to push her bicycle most of the three miles because she was in pain.

Maintain the position Attwood. It won't be getting any easier," Sophie warned, the whippy cane lightly moving and tapping as she spoke, a familiar dread ritual to ensure her next stroke would land precisely on target. "This will be two." Although we considered bad behaviour in general somewhat disreputable and beneath us, certain crimes, as we called them, commanded respect. To have to see the headmistress for misbehaviour on a public bus was unthinkable. To have to see her for reading Ulysses was an entirely different matter – particularly if the ‘criminal’ had a witty observation about the book to entertain her friends with.At long last they had arrived at the final afternoon of spring term, Easter weekend only seven days away, falling as it did precisely in the middle of the two week holiday. There had been the usual frantic dash to gather up books, bags and PE kit and now, in the calm aftermath of that storm, this late afternoon appointment was to be the final act in a performance upon which the curtain had risen twelve weeks previously in a January house tutorial meeting. He still tried to keep his face straight, not showing any fear. But his confidence was almost gone. However, I’d make sure he’d learn. I adressed the three pupils facing the wall.

Rebellion over uniform was in any case looked down upon as childish. Much more sophisticated was to be politely truthful -more so than the nun might have wished, but this took nerve. But it was not to be. Towards the end of assembly the senior mistress announced that she would be punishing a fourth year girl for smoking. She read the name out: "Lindsey Rushworth, form 4B, wait for me outside my office." I muttered my assent, trying to raise my eyes to meet hers. This proved to be particularly difficult.Is there no law in the country to prevent such brutality? It is not a matter that a girl will willingly report to her parents especially a girl of 17, and I think these schools should be exposed for such punishment, as I now understand that girls are spanked on the bare hips for the slightest offence against the school rules in this school. The doctor told me that complaints of a similar kind were reported in the Evening Mail some time ago, and advised me to report the matter to the Board of Education. It is certain that my daughter will not return to that school, and if girls would only speak up, I am sure that something could be done to stop it for all time. Not so funny, is it? A young man in his upper sixth year finding himself in this humiliating position."

My legs were trembling as I stretched myself over the desk. It was wide and I could only just hold onto the edge with my toes on the floor. I tried to make my grip as firm as possible and closed my eyes tight shut and waited.

You know how I despise empty threats Thomas, so please make sure this turns out to be one that I never have to carry out. But, don't doubt that I will, if that's what it takes." Indeed? And so you should look apprehensive," she responded, in her innocence misreading the causes of his fidgeting. "But, as unconventional as this approach might seem, something tells me this could be exactly what's needed to provide the focus and motivation you need. I can't say I entirely approve, of course. Senior boys in the upper sixth ought to be able to motivate themselves without threats of disciplinary measures, but if this is what it takes..." She could feel that her words were hitting the mark. As soon as she has risen from her chair, and in the near silence of the late afternoon, a palpable tension had descended in the room.

Taking pains to ensure they were able to schedule a private appointment, she had informed Thomas of her decision just a few days ago, instructing him to arrive half an hour after final lessons on the final day of the term. The House admin corridor would be empty and she felt certain none of the other boys would still be lingering in the common rooms. After a similar interval there was the sound of another stroke. This time there was no doubt about it. The impact was followed swiftly by a sharp cry of pain. I wondered how many strokes Lindsey was going to get. Lindsey was a very nice girl. Although she must have been, with good reason, as fearful as I was, but she still tried to ease my nerves a little. She told me not to worry and said that as it was my first time I would probably only get a couple of strokes and that it wouldn't hurt all that much. She said that the only thing I had to remember was to do exactly what Mrs Seaton said, as soon as she said it! Taking up her cane by the inside of its perfectly rounded crook handle, she stood, gently flexing it before running her fingers along its smooth length. Cool to her fingertips, it was carefully sanded at each joint and slightly rounded at the tip.

Look, I know it's not always an easy transition from the rules and hand-holding of the junior years. All I want is to see you really focus on your grades for a few months. I've tried encouragement, I've tried cajoling, I've discussed your work with your parents, and I seem to remember we even resorted to a couple of Saturday morning homework detentions. Quite frankly there are very few options remaining." Attwood," she warned, veiled menace both in her tone of voice and in the sudden switch to his surname. "You're not a junior now and I intend to make this a punishment that you will never forget. You will do exactly as I tell you, and you will do it right now." I suggest," Miss Sternwood announced in the same controlled tone, "that you remember every last detail of this punishment," the light tap-tap of her cane punctuating the rhythm of her words, "especially if you ever begin to feel your mind wander from your studies... now for number three."