Erin Investigates

02Jun16

caned chair“They didn’t have the cane when you were at school?” Erin asked the young woman pleasantly.

“Well duh?” Karen Mayfield replied indolently, she was actually chewing gum.

It was anybody’s guess what her natural hair colour was, at the moment it was a scraped back chemical red with white bleached streaks. Most of Erin’s participants had so far been upper or middle class and the addition of a 25-year-old supermarket worker was refreshing.

“Well quite, it has been abolished since the 1980s in state schools,” Erin rolled her eyes conspiratorially.

“I dunno… my mum ‘ad it and me gran… sorry,” she paused to remove the gum, “I’m a bit nervous…”

“So… what is your particular interest?” Erin smiled again, warming to the woman.

“I read about a case back in… I don’t know… it was one of those posh schools. After what my mum and gran had said I was surprised that a girl would get it from a man… I think she was 18 and…” Karen grinned sheepishly and lowered her voice, “On the bare bum.”

“Yes I have read your account and our researchers have had some success in fleshing out the back story…” Erin glanced at the paperwork and in a clipped tone rattled off an impromptu summary: “The school your mention integrated girls into the school from the late 1970s… strict discipline for boys preparing for the military… high pressure sports coaching… it wasn’t unusual for CP to be used on young women up to 18… former students and teachers would neither confirm or deny your bare bottom claims… although cases of thrashing boys… including at least prominent case involving a public flogging are found in biographies for students there before and just after the War…”

“So they are saying I made it up?” Karen snarled as if it was Erin’s fault.

“No actually… we have off the record confirmation and we have found not only the source you cited but the author and have decided to accept the scenario” Erin replied.

“So… what’s the problem?” Karen asked with a shrug.

“Well there isn’t one, but I would like to just make sure you know what you are letting yourself in for and ask you why you want to pursue it?” Erin made a pout, a pen poised over her notebook.

“Like I said, my mum and gran went through it and I know what they told me… I just wanted to know what it was like myself and sort of… well see if it was different for those posh girls. I mean if they can do it…” Karen was the verge of giggles now.

*

“Mayfield,” David Garrick said wearily as he strolled up to his study door, “Here again I see.”

Karen who had been leaning on the doorframe straightened up and quickly checked the hem of her skirt and whether her hair had come lose again. Her real life hair had been dyed to something approaching natural brown, although the white streaks remained as over vigorous highlights.

“Yes Sir,” she replied nervously, “Mrs Bolton said…”

“Yes, yes… come in,” Garrick said in a bored voice as he opened the door. “Late, insolence and what was it…?”

“I told her to fuck off Sir,” Karen admitted sheepishly, “Sorry Sir.”

Garrick eyed her sternly to see if her dangerously graphic explanation was an attempt at further insolence. But she looked sincere enough. The details had already been explained to him by an irate Mrs Bolton.

“What did I give you last time?” he asked as he approached the cane cupboard.

“Eight Sir,” Karen admitted.

“Eight gets you ten, plus two for the vulgarity,” Garrick sighed.

“Yes Sir,” Karen groaned.

“Fair?” Garrick asked without looking at her. His hand reached for one of his thinnest sticks.

“Yes Sir,” Karen licked her lips nervously.

The nerves were all too real.

“You know the drill, get on with it,” Garrick snapped as he slashed the air for a test run.

Karen jumped and quickly fumbled for her blazer buttons. She knew the drill, it had been explained, but in the scenario this was her fourth or fifth caning, for the real Karen Mayfield it was a first.

The drill required the removal of her blazer and the taking down of her own knickers. Then she had to bend over the back of the ancient stuffed armchair so that her head was in the seat and her bottom was well elevated; Garrick would them flip up the hem of her skirt and fold it out of the way.

She ran through the drill in her now spinning head as she worked a Saharan mouth free of a sudden coat of sand. The blazer was easy and once she started it became automatic. Only a glance at the partially covered camera interrupted the spell.

The back of the chair was hard on her hips and she felt disorientated by being upside down. The unveiling made her gasp.

Now Karen felt very strange. Her bottom was bared to a stranger and she was pinned only by her own will with the assistance of gravity. I am crazy, she thought.

Garrick eyed the smooth pale cheeks where they were taught and tried to stay professional. He too knew the drill, but with considerably more experience.

The cane cut with a zip and Karen gasped as she blinked in consternation. She was tempted to think it wasn’t too bad and then it really was. Then it really, really was.

“Oh God,” she whimpered.

The next stroke came before she knew it, immediately followed by a third and then a fourth. Karen bucked and squirmed as if she had been electrified, small angry yelps bursting from her lips.

Garrick took her quickly to six and then paused to study the neat dark lines across her bare bottom. He felt his cock stiffen and hoped the baggy 1950s suit covered him from the camera. He even felt guilty, this was science.

The welts on Karen’s bottom grew puffy and turned an angry red. He noticed too that she was gently crying.

The next six began under the first set of scores and travelled up filling in the gaps between. Karen’s response was an unbroken throaty wail.

The whole caning took barely a minute and a half, a traditional short sharp shock, efficiently delivered.

“You may rise,” Garrick said.

“Yes Sir,” Karen sniffed.

She remembered the ritual handshake and said, “Thank you Sir.”

“See that you apologise to Mrs Bolton,” Garrick said in a joshing tone.

“Yes Sir,” Karen smiled through tears and wiped her eyes.

*

“Thoughts?” Erin was grinning as Karen left the study.

“Oh-my-God,” Karen grinned back still smiling, both hands were gripping her bottom and she was visibly squirming.

“You were in there less than five minutes, how did it feel?”

“Like days,” Karen gasped, “Oh God, I am totally buzzing here.”

“Sorry?”

“Oh totally, I’ll never be later again, sorry Mrs Bolton,” Karen giggled.

“And seriously?”

“Oh it was… you know, amazing… I won’t sit down for a few days though,” Karen sniffed away some residual tears and whipped her eyes.

“Glad your school days weren’t like that?”

Karen frowned, “You know, I think I would have bucked my ideas up more if they had been.”

“We will talk more later… go and get some ice on your bottom,” Erin laughed.



14 Responses to “Erin Investigates”

  1. 1 Svetlana

    This girl is my kind of crazy. Particularly, her “I mean if they can do it …” line of reasoning is not unfamiliar to my own mind.

    I do not really regret that there was no corporal punishment at my school. However, the idea that its painful rituals (if done right!) can help to create an atmosphere in which pupils develop a more serious attitude (“bucked up my ideas”) and aim a bit higher for themselves does not seem completely implausible. Then again, maybe that’s just me having read too many spanking stories.

    • We had “the strap” which was a tawes, I remember having to go to the Deputy Head’s office where it was kept with a soft backed book which kept a record of the “crime” and the number if strokes, mine was for selling cigarettes at school 😃 Thankfully we didn’t have to remove our trousers. I recall that the cane was worse, the art teacher, Mr Hunt, (bastard) used to let the strokes travel to the backs of the thighs 😥 But I don’t remember crying, I probably did though

    • 3 DJ

      The psychology is all here – in truth, as I tried to capture, the reality is for short efficient punishments.

  2. I feel like I have been shocked too when I get caned 😀

  3. 9 ohiotailblazer

    Curiosity can impel us to quite interesting places. I am curious as to the back story.

  4. 11 susie james

    I have never been caned but I wish there was somewhere like “Erin Investigates” were I could go to have a experience like Karen Mayfield had.


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