Chapter 22

There's a heart-stopping pause before one of the wardens points at Anna. The slow crooked finger beckons, then indicates the horse. Very theatrical. But no sooner has Anna shuffled her leaden legs forward than she's told to stop.

"Take off your pyjamas!" The wardens are grinning again and Miss Jackie makes no move to contradict them.

Anna's hands are shaking as she struggles to unbutton her pyjama jacket and then steps out of the trousers. She goes to undo her bonnet, but no… "You can leave your bonnet on, Anna!" The wardens can’t help laughing at the sight of the chubby young woman standing naked except for a bonnet on her head. "We wouldn't want you to catch cold."

Then they advance on her, marching her over to the horse once more. She's dragged across it, and, like the others, she's strapped down by wrists and ankles but she also gets a broad strap around her middle, this time making sure she can't ride up from her ankle straps and thrash about in an unseemly fashion.

At last she's firmly secured again. The wardens retreat to enjoy the show and Miss Jackie begins to take up the measure of her target. Anna's stomach churns at the faint whistling sounds of the measuring strokes; she flinches at the light touch of the cane as it taps on her. By the time the first stroke lands she's already keyed up to fever pitch. Anna thrashes about, as much as she can, her determination to withhold from the wardens the satisfaction of seeing her struggle lost in an angry wave of memory and resentment. Not that it makes any difference to Miss Jackie. The restrained gyrations of the bare bottom in front of her do little more than induce a degree of divergence in the angry welts she's raising on the flesh.

Her rancour sees Anna through the first four strokes and an incoherent yelling boosts her through the next two, but Miss Jackie is not having any more of it. She pauses while Anna's jerky struggles and noise subside. "Have you finished making an exhibition of yourself, Anna? I would have expected a little more self control from a schoolgirl, even one sufficiently lacking in it to have ended up in detention in the first place."

Anna is drenched in sweat and rigid in her restraints. Her breath is coming in a shallow rapid panting and she would gladly have leapt off the horse and punched the nearest warden on the nose, if she was able.

Miss Jackie is still waiting. "Well, Anna, have you regained some semblance of composure?"

The need to acknowledge her surroundings grounds Anna with a bump and she manages a sullen "Yes, Miss," knowing it will be the permission for her caning to resume.

"Very well." Miss Jackie takes up her stance again, once more measuring her distance, although this time the two or three measuring taps are hard enough to make Anna wince.

One… Anna jerks at the fiery diagonal stroke. Two… she's twitching at the matched burning across the other buttock. Three… she's groaning at the cross hatched bruising. Four… she's giving choking, tearless sobs as the bone deep ache and burn spreads to the other side.

A little rational part of her has watched and counted; she's had fourteen: Melanie had twenty. Catherine had ten. Surely that's her quota done.

She hears Miss Jackie move around from the rear striking zone and out of the corner of her slightly misted over eyes she sees her come just into her restricted view looking back down her left side. Anna groans and slumps in her restraints. At last it's finished.

No it isn't.

Anna gasps at the hiss of the descending cane and squeals like a stuck pig as it carves a line half way down across the back of her left thigh. The strokes aren't nearly as hard as the earlier ones, but they still have a stinging bite, and with less padding over the muscle, raise bruises every bit as livid as those on her backside. Miss Jackie finishes the four on Anna's left thigh and calmly moves around the other side to lay on four matching bruises on the other side.

Anna is wriggling and whimpering and her eyes are tight shut. They open wide when Miss Jackie Duncan another shallow diagonal across her buttocks and re-ignites the fire smouldering there. That, and the final counter diagonal which sets Anna squealing afresh are Miss Jackie's little extras to reward Anna for her earlier exhibition.

"Thank you. You may let her down." Jackie Frayn tosses the cane aside, nods to the wardens and makes to leave. "I'll inform Matron that these girls are ready for bed."

Anna lies panting on the horse, overwhelmed by the agonising pain enveloping her rear, momentarily too exhausted by her fight for control to notice that the wardens aren't exactly rushing over to release her. Her attention is attracted by one of the wardens tweaking her nipple. They are gathering around her.

"You've disappointed us, Anna."

"You didn't cry for us."

They are curling her hair between their fingers, flicking at her breasts. Anna has a sick sinking feeling that the wardens haven't finished with her yet. She feels a cool hand sliding over the burning ridges carved into her buttocks.

"So we'd better see if we can finish the job."

Anna gives a choked cry as the hand on her rear gives her a stinging slap. The other wardens quickly surround Anna and undo the straps restraining her, holding her upright as she is hauled off the horse. Matron and the maids return as the weeping Anna is dumped across the end of her bed.

"Right, time these girls were in bed."

The warden hustle around Melanie, securing her pyjamas and tossing her into bed. She whimpers as the rough flannelette material scrapes her sore skin, but she's glad to be in the security of her bed.

Catherine stands sullenly as the maids pull her up from over the end of the bed and then lie her on her back on the bed. She winces at the feel of the rough woollen blankets on her backside, but makes no sound as a thick pad is placed between her legs and held in place with a pair of tightly fitting briefs.

Next comes a pair of thick plastic pants, stiff until they warm up. Catherine loathes these. She knows only too well the sweating and itching they cause and just hopes it will not be a warm night. They are drawn up until they encase her from her waist to the top of her thighs and her private parts are secure from all reach. Her pyjamas are secured in position and finally her hands are wrapped up in thick padded mittens, clipped and secured like everything else.

Catherine climbs stiffly into bed. Despite the ache in her buttocks she feels she has got off more lightly than on her last visit to the detention dorm. The presence of Anna seems to have drawn the wardens' attention away from her, at least for the moment.

While Anna's still bent over the bed, the thick padding is pushed between her legs and the tight cotton briefs pulled up her legs to hold it. Only then is she pulled to the bed and pushed on to it on her back. Anna groans as her backside impacts on the lumpy old mattress. She cries out as the binding on the leg of her plastic pants scrapes the bruises on her thighs as the trainer pants are drawn up. Soon she, like Catherine, is encased waist to thigh in thick plastic and she is dressed in her heavy flannel pyjamas. Thick padded mittens, firmly secured, reduce her hands to blunt formless appendages.