Private School Matters Ch 03

Alright then. I have my bag and clubs. The weather is more than fine. It doesn't get any better than this for a headmaster. Grabbing my billfold, I start for the door of my office. That's when the phone rings.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!" Who could be calling on a Sunday?! Only certain individuals; and most of them were important to the school. "Good morning," I say as nicely as I can. "This is Headmaster Watson."

"Hello, Kyle. It's James. I'm calling to let you know I have another one."

My heart falls into my belly. It's never good to have the Chief of Police call on a Sunday. "Another? This is the second one this term!" I want to slam the phone down, but what good would that do? I take a moment and ask the obvious question. "Who is it this time?"

"A Miss Newberry. I'm sending the paperwork to you now."

"Newberry?" I try to conjure up the face. Never in trouble. At least nothing brought up before me. "Jimmy. What's going on here?"

"It's all explained. An adjudication per the municipal code. Your deputy will know how to handle it."

Unfortunately, Professor Handley would. I have a very bad feeling about this. "Send the paperwork. And Jimmy; you really know how to ruin a perfectly good Sunday."

Slamming down the phone anyway, I ring Handley from memory. "Good morning, Richard."

"Good morning, sir. Is there a problem?"

"You can say that. We have another adjudication. Miss Newberry."

"Reeeally."

I didn't like how he said that. "Yes. It sounds like you expected this."

"The girl always skirted the line. Too forward with professors. Slight code violations overlooked. Disruptions with young men I suspected she was behind somehow. Well, she'll pay in full now!"

"Just don't go overboard, Professor. I know how you can treat her, but we don't need controversy. Times are changing."

"I will do everything within the law, Headmaster. Don't fret."

There's an edge of excitement in his voice. Too much, even for him. "I, uhh... I want Professor MacInnes to sit in this time."

"Sir?"

"He is her sixth-form master. MacInnes should be able to give you a full accounting of what he's seen out of the lady."

There's a pregnant pause. "Yesss. I can actually use that. Embarrass her in front of her favourite teacher. I'll call and warn him about tomorrow."

"Ummm, on second..."

"Excellent suggestion, Headmaster. We will be ready." Click.

I stare at the receiver for a moment. Maybe I should have... No. No. I would never want to be a witness to that. I pick up my bags and head outside into the bright morning. MacInnes is a good man. He wouldn't let things get out of hand. Oh, please, Lord. Those reforms in Parliament can't come soon enough.

* * *

"So you're sure I go to school today?"

My mother nods with growing exasperation. "Yes. There was no summons."

"But why? How did you do it?"

"An old friend helped us out. Now eat quickly. If you're late, they'll punish you for sure!"

"All right. All right." I still can't believe she somehow came through. Just the evening prior, I thought there was no hope. My mom didn't care. Why should she? Then she comes home pretty late, and everything's fine. What's really weird is mom's mood all day Sunday. Distracted was putting it mildly. Is saving her reputation that important to her? More than likely; yes. I hear splashing at the sink, and I look up. Is she pouring out her gin? This is really weird. "Is something wrong, mom?"

"Everything's fine. Never felt better." Wiping her hands, she starts ushering me out the door. "Let's get you to school."

I barely have a chance to grab my bag and hop in the car before she all but tears out of the garage. I mean, she's just smiling at the road all the way to school. This is way too radical! We swing into the queue outside, and my mom turns to me.

"Now remember, be on your best behaviour and do what the professors say."

"I will, but..."

"It will be fine. Now go before the bell rings."

With that very brief goodbye, I stand before my school once again. Still not believing the change in my fortune, I settle my book bag on my shoulder. It feels strange to walk up these steps knowing what could have happened. By all rights, I should be downtown facing a magistrate. Still, no one confronts me at the door. I'm inside. I go to my locker, and everything's there. Feeling better by the moment, I join everyone heading to their first class. A senior named Robert smiles warmly at me. It's as if nothing...

"Miss Newberry."

My literature professor calls out to me as I enter. "Yes, ma'am?"

"I have a note. You must report to Professor Handley's office immediately."

My feeling of well-being evaporates completely. "Why, ma'am?"

"It doesn't say."

I look at the note and find nothing further. Mom said it was all sorted... "Yes, ma'am." I do an about-face back into the corridor, becoming a tinge worried. Is this about Friday? What does the school care...

"Hey! Evie!"

"Tom? You're here! They let you out?"

"Yeah! It's a miracle! My parents were pleading with a DCI but getting nowhere. Then someone higher up just comes in, and I was let go. We even got an apology!"

"That's wicked, Tom! I suppose my mom has more pull in this town than I thought."

"Your mom? What did she do?"

"I honestly don't know. But we're both still here, and that's something."

"Yeah. I'm sorry about what happened."

I try to shrug it off. "Shouldn't have let you talk me into getting into the backseat."

"It was great for a while there, though."

I could still see his interest. Even after all that, he still wants to 'get serious'. "I'm sorry, Tom. You're nice and all..."

"Miss Newberry!"

I literally jump two inches at the force of the voice behind me. The few remaining students all turn with questioning faces to see Professor Handley storming towards me. Tom bids a hasty retreat.

"Why are you not at my office, Miss?"

"I'm sorry, sir. I was on my way."

The bald man is just about palpitating. "When I summon you, that doesn't mean we have a conversation in the halls, Miss Newberry!" The fifty-year-old man grabs me by the arm.

"Hey! Sir?! You can't do this!"

"In fact, I can. Come with me!"

I'm being drug across the school by the Deputy Headmaster, and I begin to panic at what's happening. When we arrive at the office, he releases me and points inside. I just stand there looking at him dumbfounded. "What's going on, sir?"

"Go and stand at attention, and I'll tell you," the near-sighted man growls.

I slowly walk in and bring myself upright in the center of the office. I hear the door close behind me, and I try not to look as the older man circles around. There are several pieces of paper laying on his desk.

"Caught out were we?"

Oh, fuck. "Sir?"

"I have paperwork that was just sent to me saying that you were out after curfew Friday night."

My face falls, and Handley smirks at me. So it wasn't okay after all. Mom had done something; but now why am I in trouble at school? "I was, sir, but what business is it of yours?" Oooo. I could have said that better. He's really scowling now.

"What business?! You are subject to a Court Ordered Adjudication. From what I've read, this has been given in place of a hearing. Do you know what that means?"

"No, sir."

"You will be treated just as if you are in reformatory school for the next eight hours."

"What?! Why, sir?!"

He's almost grinning now. "The law allows a more lenient sentence for school-aged students as a warning. If you read and sign these, then we can proceed. If not, then you will be put before the magistrate immediately for your hearing."

I stand there frozen for a moment. "My mom... She won't..."

"You are eighteen, and you can make this choice. Your mother will be notified and instructed to pick you up an hour after school."

"An hour late? Why, sir?"

"After your final class, you will report here. During that time, you will experience a full accounting of your code violations at our institution this past year."

"Sir," I say, trying to sound calm. "If you could just ask Professor MacInnes. He would vouch that I've never had a violation before."

"Oh? You're sure, Miss Newberry? Then why did MacInnes tell me that he's looking forward to sitting in on your punishment?"

My head draws back in complete shock. "He did?!"

"Oh, yes! He expressed his desire to compare our pedagogical methods with me."

"What...?! I mean..." I'm having a hard time even picturing the kind Scotsman saying such words. "What... What will happen?"

"We haven't discussed particulars yet. Needless to say, it will be very embarrassing for you, I'm sure. More so with him being your favourite professor and all. I will, of course, finish with the cane on your bared bottom. THAT you can be assured of."

I'm just flabbergasted. Yes, they use the cane. Specifically, Professor Handley here. I guess I shouldn't be surprised by that. The old man just keeps going on about how I deserve this. Did I really? I never went out of my way to break any rules. I did bend them some, and yet he keeps ploughing on.

"...so now, if you'll sign here, we can get started."

He's holding the papers out to me. "Can I read them first?"

"Of course. It's straightforward."

Taking them up, I see that they are two pages of closely typed legalese that I have some difficulty interpreting. It pretty much is what Professor Handley said, though. A mark on my academic record, but any law-breaking expunged. Either that or go to a hearing. Possibly real reformatory. There's no mention of any lewd behaviour, at least.

"Any further questions, Miss Newberry?" Handley asks impatiently.

"No, sir." I reluctantly sign it.

The bald man takes the pages back. "At this time, you are to be treated just as the malefactor you are. You will wear this red band around your upper arm, indicating to professors and prefects of your status. For violations of any kind, you will be sent directly to this office for appropriate punishment. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." Oh, god. Everyone will be grassing me up now.

"Which reminds me. We must settle up for your first infraction."

"What?!" I watch as Handley pulls out a short leather strap. Something that looks like it has tongues on the end of it. Was that a tawse?

He clucks his tongue. "Second infraction. Lack of respect."

This is unbelievable! I still manage to swallow my pride for my own sake. "I'm sorry, sir. My first infraction?"

"For making me come and retrieve you: three for that. Three for lack of respect." He stands. "Now leave your hand out and support it with your right."

Now I know what he's about to do. Several of my classmates called it hot hands. What was I to say? "Yes, sir." Any other response would surely get me more. Unsure how much this would hurt, I slowly raise my hand. I clasp my wrist and try not to flinch as Handley rests the piece of leather on my palm. I only get a moment, and the Deputy Head strikes. My fingers are suddenly all pins and needles.

"Don't flinch, Miss Newberry! I decide where these land." He waits for me to raise my hand again. "We will repeat the first."

"Sir! Please..."

"Don't make me wait, or I'll add another. Now hand up!"

I always thought I was tough. Not like I would pick fights or anything. Just not easily hurt. A scraped knee at four brought barely a tear. At eight, I cracked my radius and hardly knew it. But this? My palm and lower fingers are getting slapped quite hard. The pain is spreading. It's becoming unbearable! I grit my teeth. Five! Six!

"And for your flinch."

He brings the tongues down hard. It takes every last bit of willpower not to pull away. I try to make no sign of how much it hurts, but my ragged breathing is ample evidence for the older man in front of me.

"Now go to your first class. You will be tardy, so explain yourself to Professor Wyatt."

I'm trying not to clench my hand. "But you'll excuse me, sir. Won't you?"

"In reformatory, there are no excuses. Now go. If you explain exactly what happened, maybe she will take pity on you."

"Sir." I turn and get out of there as fast as I can. My hand has settled into a steady throbbing that my flexing can't get rid of. A constant reminder of what may yet come. What's happening here? It's as if everyone is out to get me!

Marching back to literature as quickly as possible, I arrive embarrassed as hell with my armband on in front of the class. Miss Wyatt sternly looks me over and notices my hand. Sniffing, she finally excuses my lateness. She could have sent me right back. A lesser person would have.

And so my morning goes. Every class, I'm fully on guard. If a professor looked my way, I would answer Sir or Ma'am every time. A few of my friends would give me a kind look. Most of the rest laugh behind my back. I feel ashamed, sure, but I also know that this isn't forever. The sooner...

"Miss Newberry. Your results." Professor Gregory drops the paper on my desk.

I look down at it in front of me. To my surprise, it's marked unsatisfactory, and just by one point! I knew I had done better than that on this essay. "Sir?"

"Not your best work, I'm afraid." He folds his arms. "You'll have to report this failure to Handley, unfortunately."

"Sir? I don't understand. I thought this essay was perfectly fine."

"Questioning my ability to grade obviously substandard work, Miss Newberry? Better get going before I send a letter of reprimand with you."

"Yes, sir." I know I didn't fail that assignment, but yet again, there's no choice. If he recommends punishment, then there's no telling what Handley would do. In fact, what is he going to do? My anger and frustration are pushed aside by worry as I return to the deputy's door.

"Come!" He smiles most insincerely as I walk in. "Miss Newberry! What a pleasant surprise!"

I'm not sure if it's sarcasm coming from the older man. He genuinely looks too excited for that. "Professor Gregory has sent me here, sir."

"What on earth for, Miss Newberry? Awww. What's that in your hand? A failed test?"

I stand there and begin to tremble a little inside. Not just from fear, though. Oh, no. My professor had just set me up. What did I do to make him want this to happen to me? Not listen in class to every word he said? I watch in growing trepidation as Mr. Handley folds his hands on the desk, obviously relishing this moment.

"It looks like the sins of your past are catching up with you. I guess I have to come up with something appropriate before your lunch period. Nothing too serious, though. We don't want to spoil our session with Professor MacInnes, would we?"

The page in my hand begins to shake. I try to just stand there, looking straight ahead, since anything else would just double whatever I'm going to get.

"I asked a question, Miss Newberry."

"No, sir."

"I have an idea." He stands up and goes to his cabinet. "If you're particularly agreeable, then I'll go easy on you." He slowly pulls out the school paddle. "You only have to say you deserve this, and I'll give you just three fair swats."

As opposed to what? Probably ten. I'd heard that's the maximum with the paddle. What could they do at Reform? "How should I do that, sir?" I say, trying to keep my voice steady.

"I can't put words in your mouth you don't mean, Miss Newberry." He fingers the heavy piece of wood. "I'm waiting."

I'm chewing the inside of my cheek raw. This is unjust in every way. I try to at least keep the anger out of my voice. "Sorry, sir; for failing my test."

"How should you be punished?"

"The paddle, sir."

"Where should I apply the paddle?"

I stand there, feeling my cheeks warm. "On my backside," I finally mumble.

"Please."

Oh bollocks. "Please."

"That didn't sound very sincere. Maybe you want them on the bare?"

"No, sir! Sorry, sir." This is so demeaning. "Sir. I would prefer your offer to give me only three strokes."

"On your deserving bottom?"

What the hell?! Is this all just a game to him? Did he get a kick out of the seniors embarrassing themselves? "On the backside. I really deserve; to be punished." What I just said really hurt.

"Now THAT is considerably better. If you would, please remove your cardigan and go over my desk."

What a stupid rule. The black two-button vest didn't really get in the way. Maybe if I had to grab my ankles... I glance up, and he's watching me closely. Especially below my neckline.

"How am I not surprised?"

I look down. Oh, great. The beige blouse is faintly showing my lacy white bra through it. I tend to wear nice underthings and Professor Handley obviously noticed.

"At Reform, you would be stripped immediately by a matron for a uniform code violation like that."

I tense. He wouldn't dare...

"But this time, I think I'll just check your knickers. If they pass my muster, then you can keep them on for the rest of your classes. Over my desk, please."

Is the professor actually thinking about making me go without pants the rest of the day? I can't believe this...

"If you wish, I can still have Miss Watts in here, and then you can go with no undergarments of any kind for the duration. Would that be preferable?"

"No, sir," I reply in a bit of a panic. "That won't be necessary." I cautiously walk over and bend with my elbows on the cleared surface. After a few moments, the paddle is placed next to me, and I feel his hand on my back.

"Very sensible." His voice carries a bit of amusement now. "Let's get this up and see what I'll be working on."

My hem is slowly pulled away, and I grind my teeth. I'm not a prude. One didn't want to pursue modelling if that were so. But this man... I just know he's enjoying this! I feel the pleated skirt drape far up my back. So much so that my entire waist and lower back are exposed as well. He murmurs something that I can't quite catch. Something about officers. "Sir?"

"Hmm? Oh, just surveying the terrain, Miss Newberry. It's important to know the student's physiology before one is to deliver a punishment. You're not particularly tall, but well filled out."

"What?!" This is way across the line! "I mean... Sir?"

"All the skinny girls these days. I have to really hold back. Not that I'm saying you're fat of course."

I turn and give the ugly man a glare. He just stares back with a knowing smirk on his face.

"Let's check these knickers, shall we?"

I feel him give my elastic a little tug near my hip. I just know his face is looking very closely at my backside now.

"You fancy lacy things I see. Let me check... Nothing see-through. Just enough of the bum covered." He tugs one side that had bunched up a bit, and his fingers graze my sensitive skin.

I almost come up. "Sir!"

"I'm sure you want as much of your posterior covered during your paddling, Miss. I could always pull it back..."

"No, sir! It's fine where it is!" I agree hastily to keep him from touching me again. He keeps finding ways to make contact. Not groping, but... Wherever he brushes me starts to feel weird. I bite my lip as my bottom suddenly begins to gooseflesh. What the hell?! I... I can't be... He finally rises and I give an audible sigh despite myself.

"Well, Miss Newberry, I think I've seen enough of you for now." He picks up the paddle. "I want you to count and thank me after each stroke. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." Let's get this over with so I can get the fuck away from this man.

Whap!

I feel the impact, and my whole body jerks forward, but not very much. As the old man promised, these were not his worst. "One, sir! Thank you, sir."

Whap!

"Two, sir! Thank you, sir." The sting is building, and if I had to take ten, I know I would have eventually cried in front of my tormentor. No matter how tough I thought I...