From Blushes 17. Also published as “Can’t Take It” in Uniform Girls 53.
‘The cane,’ queried Melissa, eyes wide.
‘Of course,’ said this girl Diane. ‘C A N E on your B U M. That’s the first thing to learn about this place. At any excuse, or of course no excuse at all, it’s the cane on your bum. That’s the favourite form of enjoyment for Mr Hearne and those others. I mean caning a girl’s bottom’s got to beat watching Coronation Street, hasn’t it?’
Melissa’s big brown eyes registered disbelief. ‘It’s true,’ agreed the other girl, Lucinda. ‘And don’t think you can write home to your parents and they’ll go into a state of shock. Mr Hearne tells them. But usually of course your parents don’t tell you — so that when he first tells you to take your knickers down it does come as a nasty shock.’
Melissa blinked. All this was not easy to believe. They were in Melissa’ room which she had five minutes earlier been shown to by Mr Billington, the porter. He was called the porter because James Hearne, proprietor and principal of Pinecroft Finishing School for Girls, thought it had a classy ring to it. Class was important if you wanted upper-middle-class parents to entrust you with their daughters and at the same time pay you a handsome sum for the privilege.
The other two had come noisily in and introduced themselves; Lucinda, brunette like Melissa; Diane, a blonde. They were both 17, like Melissa, both also, again like the newcomer, pretty, shapely girls. In fact all the pupils at Pinecroft School, all in the 17 to 18 age group, came in the ‘pretty and shapely’ class. Mr Hearne had sufficient applicants that he could afford to pick and choose; and he chose to keep his numbers down to ten or thereabouts. Space considerations and also — well, did one man and his two assistants need more than ten girls’ bottoms at any one time? Fees? Oh yes, James Hearne liked the fees but he also had money of his own, so he wasn’t desperate. No, ten was a nice number. Melissa Browne, arriving on this June Thursday afternoon made up that figure, one ‘Finished’ young lady having recently left. ‘Graduated’ as Mr Hearne grandly termed it, taking with her an impressive-looking diploma of James Hearne’s own designing.
Melissa, sitting on her bed, gave the other two a hard stare. The chances were very good that they were having her on about this caning, assuming that as she had just left regular school Melissa was a bit green. ‘Oh well,’ she said, ‘I’ll just have to take it like everyone else, I suppose.’ She produced what she thought was a nonchalant expression. In fact the thought of being caned by Mr Hearne who was 40-ish and rather impressive-looking with a beard was nothing short of mind-boggling. Had this girl Lucinda actually referred to taking knickers down?
Perhaps it was best to change the subject. ‘Uh, what’s it like here? I mean apart from the caning. I mean can we get out at all, into the town? Are there any… ah…’
‘Boys?’ prompted Lucinda and Melissa, trying not to blush, said yes.
Diane, sitting opposite on the chair, leant forward. ‘We’re not allowed out much, unless you’ve got a good excuse, and not at all in the evening. Mr Hearne’s afraid of course that we want to get out and get laid.’ Diane’s pink tongue came out to wet full pink lips. ‘But it is possible,’ she added breathlessly. ‘And if you want to get laid we know a super boy, don’t we, Lu?’
This time Melissa couldn’t help colouring. The very use of that expression ‘get laid’ made her feel hot. She had not done that at all, not ever, not yet. And the very thought of it made her go all hot and cold, perhaps even more than the thought of being caned on her bare bottom by this Mr Hearne.
‘We can get you a date,’ said Diane, bright-eyed. ‘Greg is very good. He’s only a sort of car mechanic but a girl can’t always be choosy about such matters. I mean it’s a matter of need, isn’t it?’
Melissa heard herself somehow agree that it was.
‘An afternoon is OK,’ explained Lucinda. ‘Greg can usually get off from his job for an hour and you can go round to his house because his parents are out at work. I always think getting laid in the middle of the afternoon is frightfully, marvellously decadent, don’t you? And especially of course by a humble member of the working classes.’
Melissa was rather lost for words. How had this conversation started?
Diane said, ‘We’ll fix you up, don’t worry.’ She giggled. ‘Greg is really well built, if you know what I mean!’ Melissa swallowed and blinked.
‘You are game, aren’t you, Melissa?’ queried Diane.
The new girl forced herself to say ‘Oh yes’. It might of course be that they were kidding, in the same way that she was sure they were kidding about the caning. Lucinda asked if she had a regular boyfriend.
‘Oh yes,’ answered Melissa, who in fact did not have either a regular boyfriend or a non-regular one.
‘Don’t worry about that,’ counselled Lucinda. ‘What he doesn’t know won’t concern him. And we are talking about a person’s biological needs, aren’t we?’
Melissa said yes of course they were.
At that point there could be no more discussion of biological need or getting laid, or indeed getting the cane, because without a knock or anything like that the door abruptly opened. It was Mr Hearne, the hander-out, if Diane and Lucinda were to be believed, of canings to girls’ bare bottoms. ‘What’s all this?’ he inquired. ‘A fishwives’ meeting? Yatter, yatter, yatter! Haven’t you two got something to do?’
‘You two’ obviously meant Lucinda and Diane who with Melissa had quickly got to their feet. ‘On your way,’ he said. ‘I wish to have a private chat with our new arrival.’
‘Yes sir.’ They scurried out, Diane first giving Melissa a wide-eyed look that presumably meant something or other. Mr Hearne helped them on their way by aiming a slap at each bottom in turn. Melissa, seeing these slaps, felt her heart racing. He couldn’t really, could he? Cane… your bare bottom…
Mr Hearne told Melissa to sit down and he himself sat in the chair vacated by Diane. He smiled amiably. Was she settling in all right? He hoped those other two hadn’t been filling her head with subversive thoughts. Melissa produced a nervous little smile of her own and shook her head. Apart from the startling thought of the cane, Mr Hearne was a bit scary anyway because at Melissa’s previous school it had been all woman teachers.
He went on to outline the curriculum. Some academic subjects to provide a girl with a smattering of culture, supplemented with such subjects as social poise, etiquette, also something on fashion etc., from a lady who visited. As well there was a full programme of physical activities: gym, ballet, sports. Did Melissa do any sports?
Flushing slightly Melissa said she did athletics. She had got 4-star awards for long jump and 100 metre sprint. Mr Hearne said that was excellent, he could see she had a nice athletic figure. He asked Melissa to stand.
‘Oh yes,’ Mr Hearne said. Melissa was in blouse and skirt. The tightish pink blouse showed off her firm, full tits to good advantage and that was where Mr Hearne was looking. He asked her to come closer and turn round. ‘Ah yes,’ he said this time and Melissa gave a little jump. Mr Hearne’s hand had gripped a thigh through her loose cotton skirt.
As she stood, pulse racing again, the hand squeezed…and then slid up. Mr Hearne, sitting behind her, was saying, ‘Oh yes, nice firm thighs.’ And then he was saying, ‘It’s the muscles of the buttocks of course that are the real force for running.’ As he said this Mr Hearne’s hand had moved up onto Melissa’s bottom.
She could feel herself sweating. The hand embarked on a thorough study of her rear, presumably in terms of its running potential; in fact it seemed merely groping and feeling up.
After quite a bit of this Mr Hearne got to his feet and turned Melissa round towards him. His face, what you could see of it where there wasn’t the beard, looked slightly flushed — certainly not as flushed as Melissa’s though. He smiled — and asked did Melissa have a boyfriend.
It was more or less the same question that Lucinda had asked. This time Melissa answered a truthful ‘No sir.’ Mr Hearne smiled again. ‘That’s all right then: so you won’t be missing him, eh?’
Mr Hearne put both hands on Melissa’s slim waist. ‘I want you to look on this place as home, Melissa. If you have any problems I want you to come to me with them. I want you to look on me as a father figure — or shall we say a favourite uncle. Got that?’
Melissa said, ‘yes sir.’ Mr Hearne pulled her forward and in what was presumably a favourite uncle manner his arms went round, drawing her tight to him. Melissa’s firm tits were squeezed into his shirt front and down below it seemed that something else sticking out was squeezed against Melissa. She felt a bit faint, with a sort of buzzing in her head. Mr Hearne was exploring her bra strap with one hand and the other was at her bottom again.
Mr Hearne’s bearded face was very close, his mouth almost touching Melissa’s ear. He was talking again, softly. But in spite of the buzzing in her head Melissa could hear quite clearly. He was talking about discipline. Had her mother mentioned discipline to her? Melissa, still feeling faint, produced a whispered ‘No sir.’ Discipline had a high priority at Pinecroft School, he said. Nowadays with all the temptations in modern life a girl needed discipline to cope. He had a good chat with her mother about this and she was in full agreement.
‘The cane, Melissa.’ The word popped out, soft and almost innocent-sounding. ‘I don’t believe you have had the cane before.’
Could Mr Hearne be saying this? Could she perhaps be dreaming? Could she also be dreaming that she was standing like this with Mr Hearne’s arms round her playing with her bottom and with her boobs pressed into Mr Hearne’s chest and Mr Hearne’s big thing pressing into her? All of it was way beyond Melissa’s experience.
She heard herself produce another frightened little ‘No sir’. So if she wasn’t dreaming, it was true what those two, Diane and Lucinda, had said. As a little aside she thought: maybe therefore it was also true about getting laid by this boy Greg.
Mr Hearne gave a final two-handed grope and then let go of Melissa’s bottom. He stood back. Yes, there was no doubt he was a little flush-faced.
‘I must go for a moment and sign some letters before the post. But I’ll come right back and we can continue our little chat. In the meantime, Melissa, why don’t you get into your athletics kit? I’d like to see that.’
He moved to the door, then stopped with an afterthought. ‘Oh, I don’t know if you wear a bra when running, but anyway leave it off. I’d like to see your whole shape, if you see what I mean.’
Mr Hearne went out. Melissa stared at the closed door and weakly shook her head. She had only arrived here at Pinecroft school something like half-an-hour ago. And now…
When Mr Hearne very shortly returned he was different, not now in his shirt sleeves. He had on his jacket and also his academic gown. More importantly, though, in his hand was a long thin cane.
‘Ah very nice,’ he said when he had carefully closed the door behind him. Because Melissa had quickly changed, into her blue sports knickers and white running vest. She had also removed her bra. Melissa was not at all happy about this part of it because she had well-developed boobs and through the thin white vest you could see every detail of them including of course Melissa’s nipples. Mr Hearne, coming close, said, ‘Very nice’ again. And simply put his hand, the one not holding the cane, on one of Melissa’s tits. Squeezing it and then in particular squeezing the nipple with his fingers.
This was undoubtedly a shock and Melissa squealed, but what was just as much a shock was that cane in his hand. Half her mind remained on the cane while the rest of course had to be thinking about the boob-hand. It was a real shock to the system, that hand, but at the same time not entirely an unpleasant one, because at 17 a girl’s boobs have got to the stage when being squeezed and groped by a male hand is not entirely unwelcome — though clearly you do not expect it from the Head of this school you’ve been sent to. But at the same time there was that cane.
After a bit of groping, first Melissa’s right boob and then the left, Mr Hearne let go. ‘You have a really lovely shape, Melissa. Now what I intend to do is introduce you to the cane, as you haven’t had it before. So you know what to expect, so to speak. Would you please kneel up on the chair?’
Batting her eyes and with her nipples now sticking firmly out, Melissa stood rooted to the spot you could say. ‘Sir… I h…haven’t done anything sir.’
Mr Hearne smiled. ‘I didn’t say you had, Melissa, I explained why I am caning you; didn’t you understand?’ As he said this his hand came behind Melissa, to get her moving. His hand at the tightly-knickered bottom to push her towards the chair, at the same time helping itself to a good grope.
With a squeal Melissa stumbled forward and up on the chair. To kneel up, as Mr Hearne instructed, her hands holding on to the chair back. He bent her head down. And then with a good firm yank pulled her sports knickers right up into the cleft of her bottom. So that Melissa’s bum was virtually bare.
Melissa was still quivering all over from that, her knickers yanked into a narrow band between her legs, her bottom bare, when: Crack!… the cane landed shatteringly across both bared cheeks. She let out a wild yelp; it was quite the worst pain Melissa had ever felt: a sting like a thousand bees all at once.
‘Keep still!’ barked Mr Hearne. ‘Don’t move!’ Crack!…
The second was if anything worse than the first. How could you keep still? She couldn’t, there was no way Melissa could keep her bottom still. Somehow, though, she managed to stay in position holding onto the chair back. There were four devastating strokes in that position and then Mr Hearne was telling Melissa to kneel up straight, let go of the chair and put her hands on her head.
Crack!… The cane again whistled in to Melissa’s poor, shell-shocked bottom. ‘Keep nice and still, Miss,’ he said again. Oh Jesus Christ!
How many more were there like that? Melissa didn’t really know, it was all now somewhat hazy. She was dimly aware though that sometime later Mr Hearne was sliding her knickers down, down round her thighs; and pulling her top up, up above her boobs. His hands on the fiery flesh of her bottom, and also on her bare boobs which somehow felt red hot as well.
‘This is Greg,’ said Diane, grinning. ‘Greg, this is Melissa who’s just arrived. Look, we haven’t got long but Melissa’s very keen to… you know…’
In fact Melissa wasn’t very keen; if the truth were known she didn’t want to do it at all, but there was no way you could say that, they would think you were some kind of prude or something.
It was Friday afternoon, the day after that awful, mind-boggling, bottom-scorching introduction to Pinecroft Finishing School. Melissa and Diane had got an afternoon pass out, Diane going to Mr Hearne and, batting big blue eyes at him, saying she wanted to take Melissa to the Public Library. ‘A two-hour pass,’ Mr Hearne said firmly. ‘Don’t be late or you both know what to expect.’
Yes Melissa did know now, in no uncertain terms. Outside the Head’s room Diane said confidentially, ‘Two hours is plenty of time. It’s only 20 minutes on our bikes into town. And I’ve phoned Greg and he’ll be home. Greg is pretty quick — but of course he might want a second go.’
Melissa had blanched. She really wasn’t at all keen to do it, especially with someone she didn’t know. And when they met him Greg was not the type she fancied, being sort of macho, big with black rather greasy hair and, well, a bit rough. But what could you expect for a garage mechanic. Diane had said he was 19.
‘I’ll leave you then,’ smiled Diane. ‘You’ve got an hour. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, Melissa. Ha, ha.’
Melissa was still in a state of shock from yesterday: that awful caning from Mr Hearne. And also afterwards. He had sat down on her bed and, smiling, said, let’s see the damage then.’
What he meant was get over his lap. He pulled her knickers on down, right off. And then… could you believe it…?
All that, though, was now driven from Melissa’s mind as she followed Greg into his bedroom. An hour Diane had said. She briefly saw posters of motorbikes, footballers, on the walls before he grabbed her and pushed his tongue deep into her mouth. Some long seconds later he extracted the tongue and removed his mouth. ‘All you girls at that Pinecroft are really hot for it,’ he observed. ‘I fink that place makes girls into nymphos.’
And then Melissa who was certainly not a nympho — how could she be when she had never done it before — was being pushed down on the bed with the excited Greg clawing at her knickers.
‘Pinecroft?’ queried Susan Browne’s friend Helen, delicately sipping her tea.
‘Yes,’ said Helen. They were in the Brownes’ drawing room on this Friday afternoon, the same one in which Susan’s daughter Melissa was having her first, illicit, date with young Greg Spinks. ‘Yes, it was highly recommended. And it’s so reassuring to know she’s in safe, reliable hands. No gallivanting about or anything.’
Helen Worthington agreed that this was reassuring.
Some 50 miles away Melissa said ‘Oooch!’ and then ‘Aaaoooww!’ Her companion said, ‘Hey, is this your first time?’
Gasping. Melissa admitted that it was. ‘But… aaooww… don’t tell the… others, will you?’
Helen Worthington said she’d have to remember the name. She would need somewhere for her own Amanda next year.