Tarekh was always very nervous when he reported to Miss Archana for his college tuition. A caning was inevitable. After all, that's why he went. But he had no reason to be any more nervous as he pressed the doorbell this time, apart from that the strange craving inside him seemed stronger than usual. Little was he to know that Miss Archana was also in an unusual mood. She was always in the mood to wield the cane and place a few colourful stripes on Tarekh's a bare bottom, but today she was in the mood to administer a very severe thrashing.
Tarekh had reported to Miss Archana on the past twelve previous occasions. She was a elegant and attractive lady in her mid-fifties she always wore a sari as most Indian women do with a sleeveless blouse. She used round reading glasses and had a stern yet warm voice. She described herself as a professional disciplinarian, and she was exactly the right person to reacquaint her clients with the strict headmistress they so dreaded, but craved. She and Tarekh had developed what she considered a very enjoyable scenario. Tarekh reported to her for college tuition in English Literature. The lessons were of an hour in duration and Miss Archana's mastery of her language made for tuition periods that were genuine in every respect. She would always stress that she expected perfection from Tarekh and always warned him at the start of the lesson that anything less would result in a caning. Tarekh always did his best, and he was also did well in senior college, so reasons to cane him were few, but of course, Miss Archana always found fault somewhere, so Tarekh's bottom always received a few sound strokes of the cane.
Today, however, something was different. As Tarekh waited nervously for the door to open his mind was in a bit of a turmoil. He had the insane desire to provoke Miss Archana a little, perhaps by producing work that was uncharacteristically sloppy. He had never yet been caned on the bare bottom, the worst he had received was six of the best but on the taut fabric of his trousers, and while that stung like the devil, today he felt he needed to feel a stroke on the bare. He secretly craved the humiliation of having to bare his bottom to Miss Archana, then bend over and take the cane. The trouble was, he felt unable to ask. Miss Archana and he had developed a thoroughly decent relationship. Everything was prim and proper. Bare bottoms seemed most inappropriate.
"Good afternoon, Tarekh," said Miss Archana, as she opened the door to see Tarekh nervously biting his lip. "I trust you've been endeavouring to improve your handwriting, as I suggested when you were last here?"
"Yes Miss Archana," he replied.
He failed to notice the slight disappointment in her face before she turned to lead him to her study.
Tarekh took his seat at his student's desk in the now familiar dark oak panelled room, while Miss Archana took her seat at her own desk, facing him, and began to review his past written work. His eyes drifted from the notepaper in front of him to the umbrella stand in the corner, containing a variety of canes. One of which, he knew, he would be feeling the seat of his trousers before the hour was over. He shuddered at the thought, but it was why he was here. It's what he craved.
"Looking at your last written essay, Tarekh," she said, looking up from the paper on her desk to regard him with her cool, blue eyes, "I can see that we need to work hard on your handwriting. It is simply not neat enough."
"Yes, Miss Archana," he replied.
"Very well. I intend to spend this period concentrating on just that. I want you to write in your very neatest handwriting 'Untidy handwriting can usually be improved with the persuasion of the cane.' You may begin. In your neatest handwriting, please. Bring it to me when you have finished, and don't forget that I will have no hesitation in using the cane if your work is less than satisfactory."
"Yes, Miss Archana."
Tarekh picked his pen then began to write. Miss Archana always made him nervous, so it was difficult to write with a steady hand, but today, with the thoughts of provoking her filling his head, he was even more nervous. The finished result was not particularly neat, but it was probably the best he could do. He rose to his feet, then took the few steps to her desk, then placed the sheet of paper in front of her.
"Not good enough, Tarekh," she said, after studying his work for several seconds. "In fact it's even worse than the rather sloppy work you produced last time you were here. I think I will have to bring the cane into use earlier than usual."
Tarekh felt a wave of fear run through him. She normally caned him at the end of his lesson, just before he left. She would usually lecture him, explaining that his progress had been unsatisfactory and that she had no option left to her but to cane him. This time he had been here for less than five minutes, and the cane was already about to be put to use.
"Go and stand at the front of your desk," she said, firmly, as she rose to her feet.
With his legs feeling a little unsteady under him, Tarekh took the few steps towards his desk, then turned to see Miss Archana selecting a cane from the umbrella stand. His pulse began to race as she selected a cane of medium length and diameter. It looked like the one she had used on him last time and it stung like the devil. The colour drained from his face as he saw her replace the cane, then select a longer, heavier cane. She'd never used anything as severe looking as this before!
"Yes," she said, flexing the cane into an arc, "I think I'll use this cane today."
For the first time, Tarekh saw a sadistic glint in her eye. A slight smile formed on her face when she registered his fear.
"Bend over the desk, grip the seat," she said quietly. "Stay in position until I give you permission to rise."
Dreading what was to come, Tarekh slowly bent over the old wooden desk, feeling his trousers tighten against his bottom.
"You will receive one stroke on this occasion, Tarekh, but I warn you, it will be a little harder than you have experienced in the past. You may find it surprisingly painful, but I have decided that this is what you need."
He felt her gentle hand smoothing the taut fabric covering his upturned bottom. She had never done this before.
"I'm just making sure your clothes are not offering too much protection, Tarekh. I want to be sure you really feel this."
Now he was really scared. This was not what he was expecting.
He tensed as she took her position to his left. His whole body twitches involuntarily as he felt the cane placed at the centre of his bottom.
"Remember, Tarekh," she warned, "Stay in that position exactly until I give you permission to rise. Failure to comply will result in the punishment being repeated."
Tarekh's face screwed up almost as if in pain as he anticipated the cane stroke. The cane was gently tapping at the seat of his taut trousers. Miss Archana looked down at his offered bottom with a look of determination and concentration.
SWISH - CRACK!
The cane stroke was like nothing he had ever felt before. As the heavy rattan bit deep into his bottom cheeks, and a puff of dust was expelled from the fabric of his trousers, he felt a searing line of agony eat into his flesh. He gasped and gripped the seat as hard as he could to stop himself rising up. The pain seemed to eat in deeper and intensify as the full effect of the cane made itself felt, before gradually fading to an intense burning.
"You may rise," she said quietly, after about ten seconds.
As he looked briefly into her eyes, through his own shocked and watery eyes, he again saw that sadistic glint. He was terrified, but VERY excited. He knew he needed this. He knew it was going to get worse and he needed it to. Miss Archana knew it to. Unspoken signals had, in that brief eye contact, passed between them, something special was under way and both parties craved it.
"Let's see if we can do better with exercise two, Tarekh," she said, as she took her seat, placing the cane on her desk. It was not lost on Tarekh that she had not returned it to the umbrella stand.
"In your very neatest handwriting, Tarekh, I want you to write 'For some people, only very hard canings will produce the required result.' I expect a vast improvement on your previous very untidy effort. Be in no doubt, I can and will apply this cane more severely that you imagine."
