Angela’s story: an advent caning


Angela’s story continues:

Eating in the pub turned out to be a real embarrassment. For some reason the pub was almost completely empty and I felt very conspicuous standing at a table for my lunch, especially as David was sitting down having a good smirk at my expense.

“Ok what is my fate oh wise one?” I finally plucked up the courage to ask.

David took a slow sip of his beer and fixed me with a firm stare.

“After due consideration I have decided that you will sit monthly exams based on your college set texts from the beginning of your first term.” He said evenly. “That way you will be revising all your work and getting exam practice until it is second nature to you.”

“But David that is so much extra work. That will almost double my study time.” I wailed.

He held up his hand to stop my bleating.

“I haven’t finished.” He said firmly. “I will mark each of these exams hard. Unless you get a double first for each paper, you will be punished. The punishments will get harsher as your grade attainment falls.”

“But David I’ll never get a first on any paper let alone a double.” I whined.

He just shrugged and took another sip of beer. I was frantic.

“You’re teasing me aren’t you? Just trying to teach me a lesson after I asked you to make sure I had punishment I couldn’t bear?” I said pleadingly.

“Of course I am trying to teach you a lesson.” He agreed.

I sighed in relief.

“But I am not teasing you. You will accept this.” He said with such finality.

I was dumbfounded. I had asked for it and now I was going to get it. We finished lunch and walked slowly home. I was feeling miserable, as there was something else on my mind.

“David there is something else.” I said finally.

“Tell me.” He replied.

“The holidays. There are next week, my parents will expect me home. If I don’t go I will have to tell them about us.” I reported with sadness.

“Then tell them.” David stopped and turned to me.

“But I thought?”

“They have got to know sometime.”

“I was going to wait until I was 21.” I said lamely.

“How quaint.” He laughed out loud.

I joined him with a fit of giggles, I had sounded so pompous and we both knew I was just procrastinating with such a lame excuse.

I phoned Dad that evening.

“David Ashley well who would have thought it.” Dad said trying not to laugh. Then he called out to mum. “Hey mum guess what? Our Angela’s new boyfriend is David Ashley, I’ll bet that was a bolt from the blue.”

“Dad, I am serious.” I wailed.

“I know you are. For the last year it has been Mr Ashley this and David that. Whenever I have met him, it has been written all over his face. Does he still warm your behind when you get out of line?” Dad chuckled.

I had never been so embarrassed. I looked up at David’s quizzical face my own aglow with shame.

“He knows?” David mouthed.

I just nodded, unable to contain my grin.

“Are you at least both coming for Christmas Day?” Dad continued. “Oh hang on. Oh apparently you are, Mum says.”

The rest of the conversation was more typical of our usual chats and by the time mum came on it had descended it questions about my cardigan and wearing a hat now that winter was coming on.

That evening David dropped the bombshell that my first ‘exam’ was to be before Christmas. I pleaded and wheedled and even tried bribery. I would explain the details of the bribe but it is a bit of a mouthful. David collected it anyway the beast.

The first week of the Christmas holiday was a heavy study period for me. But strangely, it was quite satisfying as the second time around I enjoyed it more and gained fresh insights.

I still got butterflies when David sat me down four days before Christmas Eve and put a clock on the table. However, in the event it went well.

The worst part was sitting on the sofa watching David working through a pile of educational articles and teacher’s notes for his next term before he got to the bottom of his in tray to mark my exam.

Then it actually got worse. As he read through my work he kept mumbling to himself and writing things on the paper in red. It was worse than going to the dentists.

“Alright young lady.” He said at last. “Your work has really come on and this shows real promise. If you can keep this standard up then you will get your upper second with flying colours.”

I beamed happily.

“However, there are several atrocious spelling mistakes that you really should not be making at an undergraduate level. Also your overall grade is only just an upper second so I am afraid young lady you are for the high jump.” He said seriously.

“Yes Sir.” I pouted.

“OK drop your knickers and raise your skirt. I want you bent over the back of the sofa.” He said as he went to get the cane.

When he returned I was bottom up with my bare cheeks pointing at the ceiling.

“Let me see, never less than two dozen.” David intoned. “What do you think you deserve?”

I swallowed and tried not to wriggle at the prospect of my impending doom.

“I don’t know Sir.” I sniffed. I was always close to tears just before a punishment.

“What no protests?” He asked.

“No Sir, I knew what to expect.” I said with bravado.

“Bearing in mind what I said about this arrangement what do you think I will give you for your attempt?” I knew it was a serious question and not teasing.

“Never less than two dozen, Sir.” I mused aloud. “Plus at least six for it not even being a first. Three more for it being a scraped 2:1 and something for the spelling errors.”

“One for each I think, that is 40 in all, is that just?” David asked.

“Yes Sir.” I said bravely.

“Good girl. Now you know the rules for next time. Since you did not beg off it is just 24 this time.”

I sighed with relief I really loved this man.

“But this time you can count them.” He said.

“Yes Sir.” I said. Thinking meanie.

The caning was sharp and steady as usual. I let out a great shout with each stroke and David really made me feel them.

“One thank you Sir.” I wailed.

“Two thank you Sir.”

Then strokes came at about 15 second intervals for maximum effect and the whole caning took six minutes by the clock. When it was over, I had to go to the corner as always with bare bottom displayed and to have a good cry. If I was a good girl for the next few days then I would just be sitting in time for Christmas dinner.

To be continued.

One Response to “Angela’s story: an advent caning”

  1. 1 Karl Friedrich Gauss

    Something tells me Angela won’t be sitting, at least not comfortably, for Christmas dinner, and that David and her father will have a lovely discussion about how she’s disciplined, with Angela listening in, redfaced. But I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what the future holds.

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