The Headmaster and the Girl. A Punishment Story

A tale of discipline and misogyny in a 1950’s English Public School

It’s a quirk of the English language that a “Public” school is nothing of the sort. It is fee paying establishment where the offspring of the rich and privileged receive their education and secure their positions within the high echelons of society.

The schools are independent of the state education system. They all have their own rituals and traditions and, of course, their own unique disciplinary codes.
‐—————-

The Girl hated the hood from the moment her Headmaster, Professor Faulkner, tied it tightly under her chin. He said it was to protect her anonymity as he led her across the College, but all she knew was that it was itchy, smelly and uncomfortable. It was also disorienting and disconcerting as she stumbled her way, blindfold, along the ancient stone corridors.

It wasn’t only her face that was uncomfortable. The coarse material of her skirt, chafed her sore arse.
Her knickers should have provided some comfort but she hadn’t seen those since the Headmaster had yanked them off to give her a sound spanking on the bare buttocks. Heaven knows where they were now – probably in his pocket.

The spanking had been the first part of her punishment and she suspected there was still more to come. She didn’t know where Faulker was leading her, but had no doubt that her destination would not be a warm country meadow or a comfortable feather bed. He had a reputation for cruel punishments and, after her serious misconduct, she feared he would want to make an example of her.

She had, long since, lost track of her whereabouts in the rambling college, but sensed that she was passing through a doorway.
This notion was confirmed by the sound of her footsteps. The floor was now wooden instead of not stone. And, judging by the echo, she was now in a large, open space and not a narrow corridor.
After fifty, or so paces across the space she was hurried up three steps, before being ordered to stop.

“Put your hands in front of you and reach down until you feel the desk.” she was told.
“Now bend over the desk as far as you can.
That’s right.
Reach our and grasp the far side.
Stay there, do not move or touch your hood until I tell you.”

The Professor pulled up the back of her skirt, baring her arse and walked away.

“Open the door,” he shouted.

The Girl heard the scrape of a distant door and then the excited chatter of teenage girls.

She knew where she was.
She in the Assembly Hall.
On the stage of the Assembly Hall.
On the stage of the Assembly Hall in front of her classmates.
Bent over a desk, with her bare backside on show.
She really was going to be made an example.

She heard the girls sit and then fall silent as their Headmaster stepped onto the stage.
There were no words of welcome or introduction, Faulkner went directly to his monologue.
“The more observant amongst you will have noticed that, with the exception of Bainbridge – our Head Boy, there are no male students present. That is because I wish to teach you girls an important lesson in the standards required of young ladies.”

“Miss Hall, if you please.”

The drama teacher opened the stage curtains to reveal the half naked, convicted Girl.
The unexpected sight drew gasps and giggles from the assembled students.

“This disgusting creature was discovered on her knees, in he boys’ lavatories.
She was selling sexual favours – sexual favours,” he raised his voice in emphasis, “to male students for a shilling a time.
She had no less than twelve shillings in her pocket when she was caught!”

“Who can tell me what we call a woman who sells herself in such a way?” he asked.

An eager hand shot into the air, Frobisher, the school swot.

“Yes Frobisher?”

“A whore Sir!”

“That’s right. Anyone else? Browning?”

“A prostitute Sir.”
“Any more? Shout them out.”

After hearing several suggestions he addressed the Girl.
“There you are. “A whore, a prostitute, a tart, a slut, a harlot, a slag” and that’s just what your friends call you!”

“This behaviour will not be tolerated at St Boniface College. You are here to be trained as a lady and that is exactly what I intend to do.”

The Girl heard something zip through the air and felt a stinging explosion across her buttocks.
It must be the cane.
She hadn’t had it before. She was surprised she didn’t get earlier in the Headmaster’s study. Deep down she knew she had it coming. She probably deserved it, but that did nothing to assuage the shock and pain of its savage impact on her bare flesh.

She squealed.
And as she squealed she heard Faulkner enjoying the moment, entertaining the crowd.
“One!” he shouted. “Help me count them.” he encouraged the girls to join in. “Six of the best should be enough to teach her her lesson.”

“Two!”
The audience joined their Professor in counting the blows.
Their excited voices were so loud that they drowned out the yells of the young harlot on stage.

As three, four, and five struck their target the fire in her arse grew larger and hotter. Her Headmaster knew his craft. He never hit the same spot twice. He worked his way down towards her thighs, leaving parallel plains of piercing pain in his wake.

The sixth found its mark, cruelly punishing the tops of her tender thighs.
It drew her loudest shriek yet. She was helpless, wailing and sobbing. Disgraced.
But at least it was over.

She heard the Headmaster again.
“How many was that?” he asked the crowd. “I can’t hear you!” He was behaving as though it was a pantomime.

“Zip! Crack!”

“Aaaaah”

He had hit her again!

“Seven!” came the spectators’ cry.

“Seven? Oh, why didn’t you tell me?” the Headmaster joked to much laughter.

The Girl wasn’t laughing!
But her punishment was finally over, wasn’t it?

“That girls, is the kind of punishment that a college student can expect if she chooses to act like a whore.
Behaviour that not only shames her but shames all of you. It shames the entire College and I will not allow it!
However, when you complete your studies and move into your adult life I won’t be around to bring you back into line, will I?
But that doesn’t mean you will be able to do as you please.”

“In life, women who display such a blatant lack of self respect lose the respect of everybody else!”
His voice was getting louder as he warmed to his theme.
The Girl sensed that there was further punishment to come. Heaven only knew what!
“I’m going to show you just how little respect men have for women who decide to behave like tarts and whores.
Bainbridge, if you please?”

All eyes turned to the back of the hall and followed the Head Boy as he strode purposefully between the ranks of adoring girls.
He was tall, broad, with thick black Brylcreamed hair and the square jaw of a Hollywood leading man.
He was also blessed with a natural charm and confidence. His father was a decorated army Major and there was no doubt that the Head Biy was also destined for a life of command.

Many of the assembled throng dampened their gussets at the mere thought of submitting to his orders.

He climbed onto the stage and stood behind the wretched Girl.
To her classmates amazement he undid his trousers and lowered then to his thighs.
They stared in rapt, silent awe at the sight of his tight, naked, well sculpted backside.

“In the anus Sir?” he asked.

“If you would be so kind, Bainbridge. Just as we discussed.”

The Girl was puzzled by the rustling of clothing behind her and had no idea what an “anus” was, but she soon worked it out when she felt something hard and hot and blunt intruding between her buttocks.

“Oh no.” She jumped up.
“You can’t!
Don’t!
Please!”

“Step aside please, Bainbridge.” the Professor instructed calmly.

Bainbridge did as he requested and some lucky young girls in front few rows were treated to their first ever glimpse of cock.

The Headmaster soon had everyone’s attention though.
A smack and a squeal echoed around the hall as flesh struck flesh and the Girl was forced back to her rightful position across the desk.

“Don’t you dare move you filthy slut!
If there’s anymore of your nonsense I will invite the entire 1st XV rugby team to form a queue and take their turn once Bainbridge has finished with you.”

“Yes, you may whimper and cry if you do not possess the self control to remain silent, but no body wants to hear a single word you have to say.
Do you understand me Girl!?”

She nodded her head, afraid to speak out loud.

“I should think so too!
If only you had had the good sense to give your mouth closed in the lavatory you wouldn’t be in this trouble.” He laughed.

The more worldly girls, who understood the double entendre laughed with him and were soon joined by the more innocent, who did not wish to appear naive.
He hushed them all with a stare.
“If you would continue please Bainbridge.”

He did. Taking a few off-target stabs before he zeroed in on the tight hole he was seeking.
The Girl grunted and sobbed as he drove his rod against her sphincter, shunting her body across the desk. He wasn’t going to be denied and forced his manhood through the muscular seal penetrating the deep, forbidden, chasm.

The Girl thought she would split in half as the exit was crudely and abruptly converted into an entrance.
She lay there, distraught at the shock, pain and humiliation of the Head Boy’s invasion. Powerless to prevent any further assault.

The Headmaster offered a commentary. “I suspect that some of you are wondering why the wretch is making such a fuss. So maybe I should explain that Bainbridge is currently pushing his very well developed penis right up inside her arse!
This is the sort of treatment that greedy little tarts can expect a man to give them.”

There was giggling and muttering from the floor, but Faulkner was prepared to let it pass.

“I’m fully inserted, Sir.” advised the Head Boy. “Do you wish me to continue?”

“Yes please, you may fully discharge your duties, if you would be so kind.”

“Certainly Sir.”

He did as he was asked and proceeded to do his duty and fully discharge himself shooting rope after spunky rope into the worthless vessel beneath him.

————

The Girl’s punishment was finally complete.

The other students were instructed to leave the hall in single file, each passing by the front of the stage and taking a good look at their shamed classmate.
They were to learn from her example.

Of course they all took note of the state of her battered backside. However many were more interested in trying to catch the eye of the handsome Head Boy!
A lot of them were also intrigued by the mysterious stream of white fluid seeping from the Girl’s arse crack.

Once the girls had completed their observations and departed, she was allowed to stand. Her skirt fell back into place to restore her modesty but Faulkner did not return her knickers. No surprise there!

She took off the hated hood.
She no longer looked like the elegant young lady that she was born to be.
Her hair was in disarray and her face disfigured by tears and snot.

“Matron will take you to her room to clean up and ready you to return to your studies. I will expect you to be back at your desk within the hour. Is that understood?”

“Yes Sir.” The Girl and the Matron replied as one.

“Very good. Do you have anything to say before I dismiss you Girl?”

She was in no fit state to hold a conversation and she took a moment to process the Headmaster’s question, before remembering that, not only was a student expected to accept brutal punishment, without question – she was also expected to be grateful for it!

“Er yes Sir. Erm I humbly apologise for my awful behaviour, in the boys’ lavatories. I fully deserved your punishment and have learned the error of my ways.
I will try – no, I am sure, that I behave in a more ladylike manner in future.”
That should satisfy his ego.

“I should think so too.” was the smug response, “And do you had anything to say to your Head Boy?”

“Yes Sir. I wish to thank Bainbridge for his assistance in my discipline. He truly taught me a lesson I will never forget.”

“Very good.” The Headmaster dismissed her.
“Brandy Bainbridge?”

“Don’t mind if I do Sir.”

————-

The men retired to the comfort of the Headmaster’s lounge, luxuriating in front of a roaring log fire and sipping their brandies. Relaxing after their onerous duties, self-satisfied in a job well done.

“Thank you for help this morning, Bainbridge. You conducted yourself admirably.”

“Please don’t mention it Sir. It’s always gratifying to help set a wayward young lady back on to the path of righteousness.”

“Well said. We could do with more public spirited young gentlemen like you Bainbridge. You’re a credit to your family and the college.”

“You’re too kind Sir but, erm, on the subject of “young gentlemen”. I understand the Girl had taken twelve shillings before she was caught.”

“Oh yes. We’ll make good use of that, don’t you worry. Ha ha. It will fund a much needed coat of whitewash for the rugger posts.”

“Good idea Sir, but, if I may?
Twelve shillings suggests that twelve young gentlemen had paid for her services.
I imagine you’ll wish to see them Sir. Should I collect their names?”

“Ah, well Bainbridge.” Faulkner contemplated for a moment.
“I wasn’t expecting to talk to them, but maybe I should – just for the sake of form.
No need to collect their names though. They’re all young gentlemen of honour. Just have them assemble in the Senior Common Room after dinner, this evening.”

“Very good Sir. And should I advise them to expect discipline Sir?”

“Oh no! Of course not, young man!”
The professor laughed.
“It’s hardly their fault, is it?
This sort of thing has gone on since the dawn of time. My word, the ancient Greeks wrote about the evil sirens trying to tempt the heroic Jason and his splendid Argonauts to their doom, with their feminine charms!
Although he was far to clever for them.

No, no, our young gentlemen aren’t the first to be ensnared by a calculating young doxy.
I have an informative film on the subject that should help them to avoid such women in future. I mean all men have their needs, don’t they.”

“Of course Sir.
Erm, Sir, my father has always suggests that one should use one’s serving maids to satisfy such needs. Would you support that recommendation, Sir?”

“Yes, yes indeed! Splendid advice from the gallant Major.” gushed the Headmaster.
“Do be sure to pass on my warmest regards when you see him next.”

“I will Sir.”

“Oh and Bainbridge,” the older man leant in conspiratorially. “Next time you have to satisfy your manly needs I can personally recommend that young kitchen maid, who joined us last term.”

“You mean Sally, Sir?”

“Oh, I never asked the girl’s name,” he guffawed. “I suppose she looks like a Sally. Blonde lass. Inexperienced, but clean with a nice tight cunt and very eager to please – if you know what I mean.
I’m sure be yours for the price of a bar of chocolate. What what……”

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