The Bite of the Cane
There were a few girls, who - never having felt the rattan across their backsides - denied that a caning could be as painful as people claimed. Emily was one of them.
She scoffed at the howling that could be heard from within the head's study as the whack of the cane across bare cheeks echoed down the corridor. "Sissies," she would mock them, as they emerged red-eyed and rubbing their bottoms, "drips, weeds, it can't hurt that much."
She had only been spanked twice: once with a hairbrush by the Deputy Head, and once with a slipper by her Dormitory Captain. On both occasions, although she would have denied it, she herself had yelped loudly as each smack landed.
Her under-estimation of the efficacy of rattan on bare skin led her to take chances that a more prudent girl would have avoided. Thus, when she was caught out of bounds buying sweets in the local shop, it was with some surprise and alarm that she found herself bending over the Head's desk, her knickers around her thighs, listening to the swish of approaching doom.
'I'm sure this can't be too bad,' she thought to herself as she felt the cane tapped against her bottom. 'It may sting a bit, but probably no more than the hairbrush.'
She sensed the cane being drawn back.
'If I grip tightly on to the edge of the table, I'll be able to get through this with no trouble. I'll show them.'
She heard the sighing swish of the descending rattan, the loud crack of the impact.
(For what happens to girls who get caught out of bounds, read the Bexhill School series)