Six Of The Best

Alex stood outside Sister Veronica's office, his clammy hands clasped together behind his back. This wasn't a new experience for him, being summoned to explain his behaviour. In fact it was the second time this week, this being his final term at school. He'd been attending St. Margaret's Boarding School for Boys most of his teenage years, but since his 18th birthday, the shackles of authority were becoming more than he could bear. This restlessness had manifested itself in a number of ways but mostly he was just plain disobedient to his teachers. He'd also been known to play pranks on fellow pupils and had even left the school premises at night to cross the playing fields in search of a bar that would serve him alcohol without ID. This time he'd been caught red handed, daubing profane graffiti on the walls of the school chapel. To him, it was all the same, just something to distract him from the endless monotony of being at St. Margaret's, but his teachers had taken exception this time, He'd been summoned to the office of Sister Veronica, deputy headmistress and the bane of his life. He stood at the her office door, knowing full well that she was already inside there. He glanced over his shoulder and looked back down the empty hallway he'd just walked along; he could turn and run, but the thought quickly left his mind. No point delaying the inevitable, he reckoned and so he knocked twice then held his breath.

"Enter," came the familiar voice of Sister Veronica. Alex exhaled and turned the round, brass knob, opening the door to see his austere teacher sat at her desk. She put down the black notebook she had been reading and with a gesture of her hand beckoned him inside. He stepped into the room and closed the door. She rose from her seat and walked over to the largest window in the room and stood with her back to him. She appeared to be watching something occurring outside, but from where he was standing, Alex couldn't say what it was.

"You asked for me, Sister Veronica," said Alex, who had never felt comfortable calling a woman older than his mother 'sister.' It felt unusual saying the word, even though he understood that the title was correct.

"What will we do with you, boy?" asked Sister Veronica, rhetorically. Before he could make a response, she turned to face him and her cold grey eyes told him that his opinion was not needed. She sighed and looked to the ceiling, "You do understand that my hands are tied on this matter? The endless red tape that binds our educational institutions these day, it really does make me want to weep. I shall have to inform Mother Superior and she, in turn, will have to inform your father. Alex swallowed audibly. He had been sent to boarding school by his father who wasn't inclined to have a troublesome teenager taking up his time and was more than happy to pay someone else to raise him. On more than one occasion his father had warned him that if he couldn't learn obedience from the Catholics, there was always his Uncle's farm in Nebraska. The thought of living in that wilderness made him shudder.

"My father?" managed Alex, the fear in his voice was apparent.

"Yes, your father," replied Sister Veronica. "You have much potential, boy, but you seem so very determined to squander your education. I shouldn't expect any less, your father was much the same, but at least in his day there were," she paused, "less bureaucratic ways of teaching discipline." She crossed the room in three strides then stooped so that her nose was only an inch away from Alex's. "When you were left with us, I made a promise to your father that we would mould you into the same calibre of man that he was. Perhaps you might find," another pause, "traditional treatment to be more instructive? What says you, boy?" He hesitated, uncertain as to whether this was another rhetorical question or if he was required to answer this time, She remained, unflinching at his eye level and so he began to speak.

"I don't understand, Sister..." Alex began, but she cut him off in mid-sentence.

"Don't play the fool with me boy, we both know that behind your sarcasm and your incessant insolence you're a good deal smarter than you'd like to admit. Since I know what worked for your father, I'll give you a choice; you have transgressed against the code of conduct enshrined in this institution for over a hundred years. This will not do." She straightened, but peered down at Alex over the round, copper coloured frames of her spectacles. "I am professionally obliged to ensure that your father is notified of your behaviour. However, I am honour bound to him that I must strive for your betterment. The decision you must make for yourself boy, is whether or not you are willing to take your punishment like he did?" Alex opened his mouth, but couldn't formulate the words to make articulate his thoughts. She seemed to be suggesting that if he agreed to whatever she had in mind, his father need not know a thing. This wasn't a decision he needed to dwell upon for long.

"I want to be made better, Sister Veronica," said Alex and the woman pulled back her lips in a thin smile.

"Very good then." She seemed pleased that he'd come to the right decision. Actually, that wasn't quite right, satisfied was probably closer to the truth. She pivoted quickly on the spot then walked over to a tall bookshelf in the far corner of the room. Reaching around the back, she took something from behind it that Alex couldn't see at first. When she turned back to him he understood in an instant what it was and why she kept it hidden from view. It was a thin, rattan cane and Alex felt his mouth involuntarily fall open as she held it horizontally in front of her at arm's length. She flexed the cane, making her knuckles whiten as she gripped it. "Go face the window boy," instructed Sister Veronica. Alex, in an almost trance like state, did as she asked and looked out across the school playing fields. Two teams of first years were being taught rugby.

"I'm ready," said Alex.

"Bend over and show me your backside," Sister Veronica told him. Slowly, Alex doubled over and looked down at his feet. The seconds passed until he realised what was expected of him. He unbuckled his belt then unfastened his trousers and slid them down past his knees, letting them fall around his ankles. Taking a short breath, he hooked his thumbs into the elasticated waistband of his briefs and pulled them down too, bringing them to rest just below his shins. He could feel the cool air of the room on his buttocks now. Alex thought that his flaccid penis was probably out of her sight, but he was sure Sister Veronica would be able to see his balls, hanging between his thighs, exposed and unprotected. He heard her footsteps as she approached him and the skin of his scrotum tightened, a wave of nervous anticipation washing over him. "You'll want to bite on this." Alex turned his head at the sound of her voice and something cold and hard was pushed into his mouth. The sour tang of old wood met his tongue and he recognised it was a ruler, twelve imperial inches long. He bit down and fixed his eyes at the floor, his hands resting on his knees to maintain his balance. "This is for your own good, boy," she told him.

The first stroke was so sudden, that Alex felt it on his skin before his ears told him that he had already heard it whistle through the air. His jaw clamped down harder on the ruler and his teeth dug into the soft wood. Again, the cane struck and an involuntary noise rose up at the back of his throat as the pain burned its way through his body. Sister Veronica brought the cane down once more and Alex felt the strength in his legs weakening. The fourth stroke hit him lower and glanced across his balls sending a new kind of ache up into the base of his gut. Another stroke and the sound of the cane was followed by the wet splatter of urine hitting the tiled floor as Alex lost control of his bladder. A warm sensation splashed against the inside of his legs and a small pool formed between his shoes that spread out around his soaking trousers. The final stroke hit him squarely across the buttocks and with a sharp cough, he spat out the ruler which clattered nosily as it landed.

Wordless quiet filled the room, broken only by the sound of Alex's breathing. Slowly raising himself upright. Alex cupped his damp genitals in his right hand before he shuffled around to look at his teacher. He watched her as she returned the cane back to its original place behind the book shelf. She sat down at her desk again and resumed reading from her black notebook. Half a minute passed and still Alex waited.

"You may go now, boy," said Sister Veronica without lifting her eyes from the page. Alex bent down pulled up his soiled clothes, wincing as he gingerly lifted them over his sore buttocks. The cold, clammy material was uncomfortable on his skin but continued to dress himself nonetheless. Once done, he walked over to the door, leaving a trail of wet footprints behind him but he didn't look back at them. He turned the round, brass knob and stepped through, closing it behind him.

The End