Mistress McKay's student
Part 1.
A young lady is found out. Lucy enjoys being disciplined.
'Oh, daddy. I can't believe you think it was good for me.' I complained, again, as we sat around the dinner table. It was the summer holidays and I had just left school for ever. A school for girls only where the management and staff were also only women. I didn't mind that part of my schooling; quite liked it in fact; it was the strict regime of punishment they had employed that I was discussing.
'And you knew perfectly well what they were doing to us!' I continued. 'You knew that we were spanked when we were younger, but as we rose through the years the punishments became worse, with straps and tawses and in the final year, the cane! Didn't you feel any pity for us poor girls, and more especially me, your daughter?' I looked at him accusingly.
He looked a bit sheepish, but took a breath and glanced at me as he reached for his wine. Mother sat primly opposite me, keeping quiet but with a wry twist to her mouth as I battled it out with my dad.
'No, my girl. I didn't feel bad about that. Not at first, certainly. I believed it was in fact very good for you to learn to behave well, and the consequences of not doing so. To submit to the discipline of someone in charge is a good lesson in life and corporal punishment is a part of the learning process. I believed it would toughen you up and prepare you for the real world. I'm sorry if the final year was a misery for you and I confess that I didn't fully understand the measures they meted out for the older girls. I apologise for that. However, you didn't come to us at the time, so I am assuming you decided to take it all in your stride and allow the staff to punish you when you deserved it.'
He was right. The final year could have been a misery because the headmistress raised the tempo of what we girls referred to as her 'game' for most of that year. Having learned to accept beatings from hand, ruler and tawse on our backsides as younger girls, when we turned eighteen, she invited us individually into her office to wish us a 'happy birthday'. This was when the new rules were explained, although of course we already knew as it was no secret in the school. She did, however, ensure that we gave her permission to do this by having us sign an agreement to the effect that as adults now, we would submit to her discipline, in whatever form it took, for as long as we wished to continue receiving it. She even advised us to make sure we cancelled the contract when we left school, otherwise she may call on us to report for punishment at any future time too!
In her office, she made us stand in front of her desk as she explained what was to be our fate until we left school. We had progressed from the previous instruments she had used and would now receive the cane as the finale for all future infringements of the rules. Previously, we would bend over her desk and raise our skirts, to be spanked or beaten with hand or tawse, or sometimes riding crop or whip, over our gym knickers, six strikes for each infringement accumulated through the week. But now this would progress. Not just would we take a caning of six strokes, but each week we had broken a rule and were summoned to appear before her, we would lose one item of clothing, removing it in front of her before we were allowed to request our punishment. And to make it worse, we were to start with just four items of clothing that we could wear; skirt, blouse, bra and knickers, and we would lose them in that order as the weeks went by if we were foolish enough to continue getting caught breaking the rules. Therefore, on our fifth occasion and every subsequent one, we would have to strip completely naked for our caning and plead with the headmistress to be allowed to do so.
'I had two terms of that, daddy. I lasted out eight weeks before I finally had to remove all of my clothes for her and stand with my hands behind my neck for her inspection. She always had an accomplice, often the matron or the vice principal but it might have been any of the teachers, to witness the punishments too. I guess that was so we couldn't accuse her of doing anything else or maybe it was because they were lesbians and simply enjoyed looking at us naked as we took our punishment. And then I had to beg her to cane me, on my naked backside. She had a special piece of furniture in the corner of the room, like an A-frame where we had to bend over the padded top. It was about three feet from side to side and we had to place our feet as wide as they would go on the footrest and grip a bar on the other side. It was humiliating, daddy. There were leather straps to hold our ankles and she sometimes used others to pull our knees as wide apart as they could go. Once she had secured our wrists in position as well, it was impossible to escape our punishment.'
Mum had a strange look on her face and seemed a bit flushed; daddy was fidgeting in his chair in apparent discomfort. I was a bit flushed myself, telling them this. It brought back some graphic memories.
'Is this true, James? You knew what Miss McKay was doing with our daughter and you didn't object?' mother demanded.
Daddy looked at us both and sighed. He took a sip of wine and tried to look remorseful.
'I've said I'm sorry, Maggie,' he started, 'and I meant it. If I had known just what a strange bunch they were at that place, I would have removed Lucy. But all I knew was that Miss McKay had promised to keep strict discipline and would bring Lucy up to be a good girl with a healthy respect for authority. I guess maybe she wasn't lying but her methods were clearly rather unorthodox. I'm sure there's no real harm done though. Lucy is a lovely young lady now, isn't she?'
He wasn't remorseful at all. Still trying to justify having me debase myself like that. However, worse was to come.
'Maggie. I think we should invite Miss McKay for dinner, sometime soon, so we can hear her side of the argument. Let's have her over on Thursday.'
Mother simply nodded in agreement, looked over at me and added, 'Yes. I think that's a very good idea. Lucy can show us what a well-mannered young lady she is now by being sweet and polite to Miss McKay and we can quiz them both together on her interesting methods of maintaining discipline and the results garnered through her methods.'
I was aghast. Oh, god no; not her, not now that I've left her school. You see, my complaining was the result of her very absence and my grumbles were fake. After our punishments, all the girls were interested to see the effects of Miss McKay's cane on their friend's arses and we became quite used to having to show our striped and bruised buttocks to each other every Saturday evening. The truth is, it became quite the challenge between us to see who could take the hardest beating. We even started deliberately getting caught doing things we knew would earn punishment and had a weekly competition. Smoking was an obvious crime as any subsequent caning after the first time was doubled to twelve strokes in the management's attempt to stub out that horrid habit. Instead, we often made sure we would be caught so we could win the weekly prize.
There were six of us at that time, and the prize we all agreed on was that all the others had to go down on the winner and lick her pussy for five minutes. Twenty-five minutes of pussy licking - worth winning! If we could make the winner have an orgasm, the one who achieved that got the same treatment from the remaining four. Who needs Saturday night at the disco when you can have that instead? Girl's boarding school, eh! Poor daddy. He didn't know he had turned me into a masochistic cane-loving, pussy-worshiping lesbian pain slut, and I wasn't about to tell him, or mum. But Miss McKay might, because there are spies everywhere and we got caught one night, six naked girls in the dorm in an orgy of cunnilingus. And then, I'm still trying to work out why, I deliberately forgot to cancel my contract with her a few weeks ago on the last day of term. I was still contracted to report to her at her whim to receive whatever punishment she wanted to give me, and I couldn't refuse, even if I wanted to, which of course, I didn't.
What could I do to dissuade my parents from this dinner invitation? Nothing, as it turned out and in a state of thrilled funk, I found myself a few evenings later greeting my old headmistress at the door while mum and dad were preparing dinner in the kitchen. I say old, but she wasn't really that at all. No more than 40 and in great athletic shape after years on the playing fields of the school. She was actually quite lovely to look at with her dark blonde bobbed hair and clear complexion, and some of the girls at school had quite openly had a crush on her.
