Chapter 12

The Colonel entered one of the classrooms. Behind the desk stood a blackboard and on top of the desk were some text books. Also, a single-thonged strap and a slim cane with a hooked handle. In front of it a schoolchild's desk had been placed.

The strap was mild compared with the leathern paddle normally used; the cane was half the weight of the one used in training. Though not severe, they stung a girlish bottom adequately and also had the advantage of being used with frequency, since damage was slight.

Shortly after he had seated himself, there came a knocking on the door.

“Come in ...”

Anna Dobson entered. She was pale, tense and nervous as she advanced tentatively towards the desk, dressed in the standard 1930s style schoolgirl uniform worn by all female inmates: rough cotton blouse with rigid starched collar and tie; grey wool stockings, all securely encased in thick elasticated-leg bottle-green bloomers worn under a bottle-green serge gymslip. Very neat, but very uncomfortable.

“Anna Dobson reporting, Sir,” she said. Then she bit her lower lip. How she hated these sessions! The humiliation of them was as bad as the pain of them. The fact that she had been at the Centre five weeks seemed to make no difference. The Colonel regarded the girl with what might have been taken for fatherly kindness. How enchanting Anna looked! Though actually twenty-eight, she could easily have been taken for sixteen or seventeen, especially dressed as she was. The eternal schoolgirl!

“Good morning, Anna.”

“Good morning, Sir ...”

The Colonel saw that her hair, long and thick, had been plaited into two pigtails. Each had a pale blue ribbon at the end. The schoolgirl uniform was certainly effective in humiliating the women prisoners and making them feel inferior. It was, it seemed, yet another way of guaranteeing that they would feel embarrassed as well as being extremely hot and itchy to wear, particularly whenever they were required to exert themselves.

How delightful ... and how ridiculous she looked!

“Take your seat, girl,” said the Colonel.

“Yes, Sir ... “

Anna eased herself into the small desk. On top of it, as usual, were paper and pen. She trembled inwardly, sure in the knowledge that however hard she tried ... whether she succeeded or failed ... she would suffer only humiliation and pain in that room.

“We will begin with the poem I set you to learn last time,” said the Colonel. “Write it down on the paper in front of you.”

“Yes, Sir ... “

Anna bowed her dark head to the task, picking up the pen. It had been quite a long poem of some twenty-four lines ... and some difficult words. She had read it every night since her last lesson and was fairly confident that all would be well. She wrote the lines with care. Slowly, but not too slowly. Accurate or not, she could still be punished for bad writing or taking too long over a task. At last, after a last look through, she raised her head.

“Finished, Sir ...”

“Bring it here then, girl.”

She stood up and advanced to the desk, conscious as ever of the brooding male eyes upon her. Eyes of cruelty. How she hated them. And how they made her tremble inside!

“Yes... that seems very good,” said the Colonel, having read the poem right through. He was a little disappointed that the woman had done so well. Still, there was time in plenty. She must have worked hard to get it right. He picked up one of the textbooks beside him and handed it to her.

“Arithmetic,” he said perfunctorily. “Open at page forty-three and answer the six questions set there. You have exactly twelve minutes.” The Colonel smiled inwardly. Arithmetic was not one of Anna's better subjects, especially when she was put under the pressure of time. He watched her scuttle back to her desk. It would not be long, he said to himself, before those knickers would be down!

In that, he was to be proved right but, since he was completely in control of the situation, it was not exactly unexpected.

“Time's up,” he said at the end of the allotted period. “Bring your work up here.”

Pale, biting her lower lip again, Anna did as she was told. She had not even started on the last question and she was sure some of the others were incorrect. The humiliation was about to intensify, the pain to begin. Silently and apprehensively she stood by the desk while the Colonel gravely studied the answers to the various sums, marking them from a 'crib' he had beside him.

“I'm afraid that's not very good,” he said at last, “Not at all. One question not even started and three of the answers wrong. That means you got only two right, doesn't it?”

“Yes, Sir,” whispered Anna. The knuckles of her clenched hands were white.

“I think you must agree that it is only right that you should be punished for such bad work...”

“Yes, Sir...” came another whisper.

The Colonel paused. “I know arithmetic is one of your weak subjects, so I shall make allowances. Mind you, I can't go on doing so. If you don't soon improve, I shall have to take sterner measures. To ensure that you do improve. Understand?”

“Yes, Sir ... “

“So, this time, I am going to give that bottom of yours a sound spanking. If you had been as bad at any other subject, it would have been the paddle or the cane. And it will be as far as arithmetic is concerned in future. Come here, girl, and get across my knees.”

The Colonel swivelled his chair sideways as the young woman came round the desk. Of course, he could have imposed any punishment he liked. He opted for a spanking simply because he felt like giving one at that moment. Anna's lips quivered, but there was a certain relief in her dark eyes. She had expected worse. On the other hand there was, somehow, an additional humiliation about a hand spanking. Silently she stretched herself across the waiting thighs and clenched her teeth. Oh God, what an existence she had to endure! How could fate have been so cruel to her? She might, at that very moment, have... have been... no... no... she mustn't think of it! She must not think of what her life had been like before prison. She felt her gymslip being pulled right up and then her bloomers were pulled down, followed by her knickers. Right down to below her knees.

The Colonel gazed happily at the ample, curving spread of her buttocks. So unlike those of an actual schoolgirl. He put his left hand and arm tightly round Anna's waist and ran his hand lightly over the unmarked flesh. He felt it quiver at his touch.

“You will try harder in future, girl,” he said.

Then he began to smack the helpless, plump, naked bottom. He smacked each cheek alternately then every third slap fell across the rear, partly on both cheeks. The Colonel slapped hard, hurting his palm. Not that he cared about that. The knowledge that Anna's bottom hurt more was ample compensation.

Left ... right ... centre ...

Left ... right ... centre ...

The pattern continued, the rounded cheeks growing redder and redder. Soon Anna's bottom began to wriggle, soon she was beginning to gasp at the slaps. Ten or a dozen she could take in silence, but when the spanking went on and on, it was different.

Smaaacck! Smaacckkk! Smaaccckk!

“Oww ... ooofff ... ooowwww ... “

The Colonel's eyes were glittering, there was a little sheen of sweat forming on his brow. He was determined to make this one of the most severe spankings he had ever administered, no matter how much the palm of his hand was burning. The sight of that wriggling bottom, with the cheeks constantly clenching and unclenching, was wonderful. And the sound of Anna's gasps and cries only added to his enjoyment. Yes ... this was to be a spanking she would remember.

Smaaacck! Smaaaccckkk! Smaaaccckkk!

“Ohhh ... oowwww .. awwww ... oh ... please ... please ...”

Smaaaccck! Smaaaccckkk! Smaaaccckkk!

How many slaps had he laid on? He had almost lost count. It must be thirty at least. Oh God, how his hand was burning! Still, he mustn't ease up. Damn it, he would give the woman fifty before he stopped. Oh how beautifully pink and red her bottom was getting!

On and on he went, gritting his teeth, striving to keep up the force of his smacks. By the way Anna wriggled and gasped, it seemed he was succeeding.

That must be forty, he said to himself. Then he steeled himself for a final ten, giving them all he'd got left.

“Owww... Owww... Oh... Pleeease….. Sir... No more... Please Sir...”

Left... right... centre...

Left... right... centre...

The soft flesh juddering and jerking madly... Redder and redder...

Come on! Six more... as hard as you can!

SMACCKK! SMACCKK! SMACCKK!

SMACCKK! SMACCKK! SMACCKK!

The Colonel slumped back, chest heaving. He was quite done in. His hand slipped from Anna's waist and she slid to her knees on the floor, hands clasped to her burning bottom, weeping uncontrollably. The former was an action strictly forbidden after a punishment except in the classroom. Not that those clasping hands did much to stem the burning pain. It was an instinctive gesture more than anything else.

Oh God, it was the worst spanking she had ever had! The beast... all simply for his own amusement! And, worst of all, the morning had but just begun. Anna knelt there, sobbing uninhibitedly. They were sobs not only of pain but of self-pity.

“Pull your knickers up, girl,” the Colonel ordered when he had recovered himself somewhat. His heart was still pounding furiously. My word, that really had been a spanking! No wonder the woman was weeping like that. He watched as, wincing, Anna pulled up her knickers and bottle-green serge bloomers, while she still remained by his chair.

“Mmmmfff... ugh... mmmmfff... ugh... “

“Now go back to your desk...”

“Mmmmfff... uughh... uuughhh... mmmffff... uughh... uggh...”

Anna stumbled as she walked away, hands still pressed to her bottom. A louder gasp came from her as she seated herself. Through a haze of tears she saw the Colonel gazing at her impassively.

“You will try harder in future, won't you?” he said.

“Y-Yer... esss... mmfff... mmfff...” came the sobbing answer.

“Wipe your eyes and stop that noise. Anyone would think you had a real good hiding.”

Anna strove to control her sobs. Could this monster even faintly imagine what it was like for a woman of her age to have a spanking like that? Her bottom seemed even more on fire than if she had a twenty-stroke paddling!

The Colonel rose and stepped down from his desk, bringing with him another textbook. He opened it and placed it on Anna's desktop.

“French,” he announced. “You will translate the whole of the passage on page thirty-eight. Write it down carefully. And, I hope for your sake, there aren't too many errors. I shall be back in twenty minutes.”

He left the classroom with Anna, still sobbing, head bent over the textbook, her pen already poised. She was better at French than arithmetic, but not all that much better!